Shrouded Sky (The Veils of Lore Book 1) (16 page)

“Oh they know of us,” Jhon said. “They just do not believe in us . . . yet.”

“Can you please not speak in riddles,” Chandra said. “My head’s beginning to throb.”

“My apologies. Allow me to show you.” Jhon rose and walked to a nearby bookshelf. He grabbed a battered book from the shelf and flipped through the pages. “Ah, here,” he said. He stepped closer to Chandra and held it open for her to see.

Chandra took the book from him and gazed down at the open page. On it was a faded illustration of a myth she was familiar with: the battle between the Titans and the gods of Olympus. “You’re from
Olympus
?” she asked, incredulous.

“No, no.” Jhon laughed kindly. “I only meant to show that reality gets woven into myths that are not believed. For us, that is a good thing.”

“So mythologies keep you hidden,” Chandra suggested.

“Like a cosmic secret,” Mayra said.

“More like unwanted children if you ask me,” Tiersa muttered.

“Well, we didn’t ask you,” Mayra said. She forced a smile and turned back to Chandra. “When the Lost were taken from our shores, they took with them proof of our existence. That is why the elementals strive to return them to us. Sister World cannot know the truth of us or seek to find us, for if they do, things could go badly.”

“I don’t really understand,” Chandra said, “but I gather that if someone comes here who’s not one of the Lost, it’s a problem.”

Heads nodded.

“And you think I’m one of the Lost because I have ancestral memory?”

“Indeed,” Jhon said. “That’s why we must question you tonight, before the Sovereign does.”

“I know I ask this a lot, but why?”

Jhon hesitated.

“Tell her, Father,” Orryn said.

“You know I cannot,” Jhon replied. “Her simply being in this room puts us at risk.”

“But she’s different,” Orryn insisted.

“How so?”

Orryn paused, then turned to Chandra. “May I show them something?”

“It depends,” Chandra said.

“The mark on your back. May I show it to them?”

Tiersa snickered. “So you
have
sold your soul.”

Orryn’s head rotated toward her like it was about to pop off his shoulders. “For a little girl who barely steps foot outside her parents’ house, you certainly have a lot to say about things you know nothing about!”

Tiersa raised her hands. “I was only jesting,” she said, looking a little terrified.

“Well save it for someone who appreciates your humor!” Orryn shot back. He composed himself and redirected his attention to Chandra. “The mark on your back has relevance to us, Chandria. May my father see it?”

“You mean my tattoo?” She looked at the anxious faces awaiting her answer. She was about to ask “why” when she decided she had probably asked that enough. “All right,” she said, and began to undo the laces in the front of her tunic, loosening them enough to pull it over her shoulder.

Orryn took hold of the tunic and carefully pulled it far enough down to reveal the lion-shaped mark resting on Chandra’s shoulder blade.

Jhon stepped closer, examining it, then immediately straightened. “Chandra, what do you know of the Kee?”

Chandra realized everyone was watching her intently. Clearly they expected an answer, but she didn’t understand the question. As for the lion, it was just something she had picked out of a book at the tattoo parlor. “Key to what?” she asked hesitantly.

“She does not know of it,” Orryn said.

“Well, I might if I knew what it was,” she replied, but she knew that wasn’t likely. Everything she knew about this place had come from a book, not ancestral memory. If anyone had that gift, it was the author who wrote it. Should she tell them the truth; explain it was all a mistake? No, she decided. That would make her more disposable than she already was. She shrugged her tunic back over her shoulder. “So what is it?”

“It’s a relic of sorts,” Orryn said.

“Yes,” Jhon said, “a relic.”

“So this relic, it’s like a key to a door or a chest?”

“Something like that,” Mayra said.

“Well, my father found plenty of relics. He was a treasure hunter,” Chandra said. “But nothing that looked like a key, at least not that I ever saw.”

“Perhaps you saw it but don’t realize it,” Jhon suggested.

“Enough with the sidestepping,” Chandra said wearily. “What does it look like if not a key?”

“Here, I will show you,” Jhon said, heading to his desk. He bent down, as if looking under it rather than on it, and after pressing a panel beneath the desk top, pulled out a scroll that had been concealed there. He glanced toward the hidden portal that had allowed them into the room.

“It’s locked?” Orryn asked him.

“It is,” he replied.

Jhon walked toward Chandra, unrolling the scroll as he did. He held it out to show her. “This is an ancient drawing. It has been passed down for generations for safekeeping. Were the Sovereign to know the Kee’s true purpose . . .”

Chandra’s mouth parted slightly as she stared down at the image. Nothing could have prepared her for what she was looking at: the drawing of a hilt in the shape of a lion, the very one that had been stolen from her father, the one that she only now realized was described in the book she had read, the very hilt owned by the violet-eyed prince.

“It’s the Lion,” she said. She rose slowly from her seat. “How is this possible?”

“You have seen it then,” Jhon said.

Chandra swallowed, her throat too dry to respond.

“Do you know where it is, Chandria?” Orryn asked, his gaze intent.

“No. I—I mean, my father had it, but—”

“Your father? He has the Kee?” Jhon asked, hope in his voice.

Orryn frowned. “
Had
it,” he said. “He went down with the boat.”

“Thanks to your elementals,” Chandra said bitterly. “But he didn’t have it then anyway. It was stolen from him the day before.”

“Stolen?” Jhon exclaimed.

“Yes, by . . .” Chandra realized it would probably be best to keep Laird’s name to herself. The less she revealed, the more leverage she might have later. “It was stolen by another treasure hunter,” she said.

Jhon’s face went very gray, and he seemed to sway on his feet. He turned toward the desk, then sank into the chair behind it. “All is lost,” he said, staring across the room.

“Surely there is still a chance, Father,” Orryn said. “If Chandria knows who has it—”

“The Kee is in Sister World,” Jhon said, shaking his head. “The damage cannot be undone.”

“What damage?” Chandra asked, moving toward them.

“The damage of Sister World knowing of us, of searching for us and learning of the Kee.”

“But they don’t know,” Chandra insisted. “To them your world is fiction, a myth, a figment of someone’s imagination. As for the key, it’s nothing more than an antique to them, a means to make money or something to be displayed or studied.”

“And if one of the Lost recognizes it?” Jhon asked. “What then? Will the connection be made? Will they realize we are real, that it is real? And what of those who would study it, as you say? Are they advanced enough to discover its value, its purpose?”

“I don’t know,” Chandra said, “but I don’t think recognition is the issue. Hilts in the shapes of lions are nothing new. They’ve been in books, T.V. shows, movies. The Chronicles of Narnia, for example.”

They looked at her blankly.

Chandra shook her head. “Not important. Right now I think we should be more concerned about the key’s other value.”

“What do you mean, other value?” Orryn asked.

“It’s made of gold, isn’t it?” she said

“Yes. Why?”

Chandra bit her lip. Dare she reveal the worst case scenario playing in her mind? It could throw the room into sudden turmoil. Then again, it might just help her escape.

“They could melt it down,” she answered. “Take the gold from it and turn it into something else. That’s not unheard of. Some treasure hunters don’t give a whit about historical value. All they care about is how much money it can fetch.”

Jhon leapt to his feet. “Melt down the Kee? By all that’s holy! Who would do
such a thing?”

“Someone who doesn’t know what it is—or who doesn’t care,” Chandra said. “The man who has it perhaps?”

“Chandra,” Mayra said. “Do you know this man you speak of, the one who stole the Kee from your father?”

“I know enough to find him,” Chandra said, although his last name wasn’t much to go on. Still, if it would give them reason to let her leave this place.

Suddenly there was a rap on the hidden panel.

“Sir,” a cautious voice said from the other side of it. “A uniform approaches.”

“I see Pey wasted no time,” Orryn said, grinding the name through his teeth.

“We must keep our wits about us,” Jhon said, rounding the desk and ushering them all toward the wall. “Tiersa, to your room. No need for you to be involved in this. And Mayra, have some wine brought up from the cellar. We must put our best foot forward.”

“Yes, always our best foot,” Mayra said.

Jhon pressed the carving that was molded to the panel, and the door slid open. Orryn stepped out first, his hand on the knife at his belt, and cautiously surveyed the brightly lit living area before them. Only the servant who had warned them stood nearby, awaiting his master’s instruction. The rest of the group exited the chamber, the panel closing behind them, and took their places in the living area, or in Tiersa’s case, away from it.

A loud pounding on the front door knocker sounded, sending an echo of dread through Chandra’s bones.

“Take a seat,” Jhon said, gesturing her to a chair by the fire. He pulled up another to face her. They both sat down. “It must look as if I’ve been questioning you,” he said, “so if you could pretend to be a little frightened, that would help.”

“Pretend to be frightened?” She glanced at the front door and the servant now heading toward it. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Jhon took her hand in his. “They came sooner than we expected, Chandra, which has left us no time to plan a deception. We’ll have to fly by the seat of our pants, and you’ll have to fly with us. Can you do that?”

Chandra nodded.

Mayra, now seated on the couch, put on a business-like face, while Orryn took his place next to his father.

The knocker sounded again. The servant stopped at the door and looked back at Jhon, who nodded, then pulled it open by a large metal ring.

“Good evening, sir,” the servant said to the uniform at the door. “I will tell the master you are here.” He stepped aside, allowing a Shield man to enter.

Jhon rose from his chair. “Ren,” he said. “Please, come in.”

A young, dark-haired soldier entered, an expression of concern on his face. He glanced around the room. “I heard Orryn had an altercation with Pey and—” His eyes fell on Chandra. “By the Maker, it’s true! You brought the Imela into your
home
?”

Jhon raised his hands. “There’s no time to explain. Do you know when Pey plans to come for her?”

“Soon, I dare say,” the young man said.

Tiersa rushed into the room and into Ren’s arms. They embraced like lovers who had been apart too long.

Chandra detected a growl in Orryn’s throat.

“Ren,” Jhon said, “is there anything you can tell us?”

Ren released Tiersa, but took her hand in his. Together they walked toward the sitting area where everyone was gathered.

“Only what I hear from the men who witnessed Orryn’s return. I’m not high enough in rank to know much else, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

He gestured for Tiersa to sit next to her mother. He then turned to Orryn with a look of dry amusement. “Word has it you broke your vows. Bets are being made as to whether or not you’ll lose your position.”

“Then I suggest you put your money on me being stripped of it.”

“From what I hear, stripping is what got you into this mess.”

“I was denied lavation,” Orryn said crossly. “What did you expect?”

Chandra thought Orryn would deny the allegations, but now realized he wanted Ren to think otherwise.

Ren studied Chandra, but she saw no sign of hostility in his eyes. She wasn’t familiar enough with his face to read it, however, so decided not to form an opinion of him just yet.

“I hope she was worth it,” Ren said.

Orryn shrugged. “Not really. The cell where I took her stank so badly, I couldn’t tell what was her and what was the cell.”

“Enough!” Mayra said. “I’ll have no such talk in my house. You two should be ashamed.”

“My apologies, Mother,” Orryn said. Then to Ren, “What do you know of the cat?”

Ren took a glass of wine from the tray being offered him by a servant. “The male, you mean? I know the guards are having a good time with him.”

“What are they doing to him?” Chandra asked, rising to her feet.

Ren ran his eyes over her. “Nothing a lady should hear,” he said, “though I’m only referring to Tiersa and her mother of course.”

“I told Pey the cat had only come to escort the Imela safely,” Orryn said, directing Ren’s attention back to him, “and to plead the case that she be returned to Adjo. He has committed no crime. He was with me, not trying to slink through the gates uninvited.”

“You know how our Sovereign Lady loves the game of cat. But that’s beside the point since the treaty is no longer in effect.” Ren took a sip from his glass.

Orryn blinked. “What?”

“Son,” Jhon interrupted. “Much has happened since you left on patrol. I hadn’t time to tell you—”

“Hadn’t time to tell me? By the Maker, what else don’t I know?”

“She called us to Council several weeks ago,” Jhon explained. “Gave orders that the treaty was to be nullified, no explanation.”

“Did the Council vote on it?” Orryn asked.

“Of course we did, but you know as well as I the Sovereign has the final say. She instructed Pey’s men to begin preparation and notified the Pedants to cease patrols of the borders.”

“Well, she didn’t notify
this
one!” Orryn snapped.

“I know, son,” Jhon said, trying to calm him. “She closed the gates, secured the walls, and began to build up the guardship. There was nothing anyone could do. No one was allowed out, no one was allowed in. Until—”