Sourcethief (Book 3) (35 page)

"She is a peasant. That's not her fault. She
had no magic to pretty them up like you have," Brannis said. "How
would yours look if you did nothing to them?"

"Nothing like that, I promise you," Soria
replied, crossing her arms and leaning back.

"And the other thing? I can't help but notice
that Juliana is a bit ... fuller in that regard," Brannis said. A smile
slipped out the edges of his mouth as the familiar glimmer returned to his eyes.

"I'm a coinblade, not a dairy farmer. I was
just trying to give a description those weasels would understand."

"Your cheeks flush the prettiest pink when you
get angry," Brannis said.

* * * * * * *
*

The
next morning Soria, Brannis, and Rakashi took fresh horses and rode for the
city of Skasgrenn. It was five days until summer.

"So what? This is a list of eleven names,"
Kyrus said. He slid the sheet of paper back across the desk. "And your
penmanship is slovenly."

"You know what these are, of course," said
Fenris. He gave Kyrus a shrewd look that hinted he did not, in fact, believe
Kryus understood at all and wanted to hear him say it.

"No, I went daft and you shall need to find a
replacement for me as well," Kyrus said and crossed his arms. He glared
back at Fenris from under his lowered brow. "It is the new Inner Circle. I
thought the three names at the top made that plain enough."

"Yes, eleven names, not yet twelve."

"Names I knew yesterday. You have nearly
finished the task Warlock Rashan set for you," Kyrus said. "Is this
yet another attempt to put my name down there and bring me into your stable of
sorcerers?"

They were meeting in Fenris's old office in the
Tower of Contemplation. Despite the promotion to second senior member of the
Inner Circle, behind only Rashan, he had not moved closer to the Warlock's
central location in the Sanctum.

"I figured as much," Fenris admitted.
"Might be that there is another sort of use we might find for such an
opening." Fenris smiled, his wrinkled lips stretching taut as they forced
his jowls aside.

"If you intend on playing this game of baiting
me and daring me to guess, I swear I will appoint someone to attend these
impromptu meetings in my place. I have neither the time nor the patience for
it," Kyrus said.

"Oh? I thought you loved games. Warlock Rashan
even let you play chess using the army for pieces. Of course, you make a bit of
a—"

"Out with it!" Kyrus snapped. "Or
this meeting is over."

"Bring your girl Juliana back. Rashan said you had
some means to send messages to her. Avail yourself of them, and I can install
her as the twelfth." Fenris folded his hands over his paunch and slouched
back in his chair, watching Kyrus’s reaction.

"Is this is jape of some sort?" Kyrus
asked. "If so, I fail to see the humor. Not only would Juliana hate the
thought of being tied in the Tower of Contemplation, she hates Celia Mistfield
with a furor, and I think she and my sister have a grudge going back to the
Academy. You would never get anything done."

"You underestimate her. Besides, a little fire
in the Sanctum debates might be a welcome thing."

"The fire might not be figurative," Kyrus
warned. "Half the reason I got her out of the city was because I feared
those assassinations would get laid at her feet, and she would prove them right
by confronting her accuser."

"We can be reasonable here, Brannis. The war is
winding down. Tensions are easing. Take the time to salve raw feelings and
soothe weary minds. You yourself look like you could use having her back,"
said Fenris. Kyrus frowned.
Fenris is trying awfully hard to get me to
summon her home
. "She is a widow you know, of course, and I think the
Circle might appreciate seeing that little matter settled. I have it on good
authority that Rashan would approve the match."

Kyrus eyes widened but stared into space.
"No," he said. He turned to fix Fenris with a look that made the old
sorcerer squirm in his chair. "Rashan wants her as collateral. He has said
as much that he fears my reckless power and now he wants Juliana here to keep
me in check. He had thought Celia would do but he knows that Juliana would work
much better for that purpose. He ordered you to get me to bring her back,
didn't he?"

"Warlock Rashan rarely 'orders' anything, at
least where I am concerned," Fenris replied with a condescending smile.

"I know Caladris kept his machinations well
hidden but how is it that you escaped retribution when the rest of the Inner
Circle was slain?" Kyrus asked. He cared not whether he offended him—he
found himself hoping he would. He could envision angering Fenris to the point
that he drew in anger, then responding in kind and blasting him through the
wall. "Do you have some deeper plot, more patience, or are you just a
coward?"

"Have a care, Brannis," Fenris cautioned.
"I am patient but not in the way you imply. I do not act rashly, and I
certainly do not act against Warlock Rashan or Emperor Sommick. It is part of
my secret to longevity. Frankly Brannis, he
is
worried about you. You
would do well to settle yourself into a nice quiet life. War's almost over. Let
Rashan pick over the bones of the outside world. You ought to worry about
helping us keep things orderly here. You have potential. You can do great
things one day. Do
not
set yourself in Rashan's path. That is the best
advice I can give you."

"And you think I should call Juliana
home?" Kryus asked.

Fenris nodded.

"Fine," Kyrus agreed.
As soon as I have
Rashan's head.

He turned to leave. "I have other matters that
require me."

* * * * * * *
*

Leaf-bare trees made the edges of the clearing
harder to make out, especially as the wind swayed them. Juliana eased the
Starlight
Marauder
down, hearing snaps and scratching as the ship's hull made its own
path through the branches. They were great old trees that an enterprising druid
could easily have built a cottage beneath. Juliana landed the ship with a
rustle of dry leaves and a thud. With a practiced hand, she shed the safety
harness, stretching this way and that to relieve the stiffness of hours spent
flying. She crept along the uneven deck to the railing and looked out into the
autumn forest.
Winter in the North, summer in the South.
She wondered if
Tiiba could win a two-season reprieve on the technicality that, though summer
in Kadrin, it was nearly winter in Acardia. It was unlikely, but the warlock's
moods had led him to stranger fancies.

She checked her daggers to make sure they were loose
in their sheathes and reinforced the shielding spells she had grown accustomed
to always keeping active.
I am getting more like Soria all the time
.

 Her vigil had lasted too long for her comfort. She
had not realized the knots her stomach had tied itself into, until she saw
Tiiba emerge from the trees and they came untangled.

"Took your time, didn't you?" she called
down to him.

"I am a man who has troubles
disappearing," Tiiba shouted back. "It is more work than you might
expect. Get us airborne as soon as I am aboard. I have no wish to be seen
leaving."
With me
, she added silently for him.

Neither side in the conflict would have welcomed
knowledge of the two of them sharing accommodations on a Kadrin airship. It was
something only a twinborn would understand. Neither of them viewed the
situation as traitorous, but they knew that they would likely be alone in that
opinion if caught.

"Get in then," she replied. "I dunno,
maybe running might help." Tiiba gave a lopsided smile and broke into a
jog as Juliana made her way back to the helm and buckled herself in.

Well Merciful Tansha be praised.
Something went right for once
.

Realizing they were not yet off the ground, she
panicked momentarily, but the escape went without incident. She aimed them
toward the clouds and the obscurity they offered.

* * * * * * *
*

Kyrus ran into Varnus as he made his way between the
Tower of Contemplation and the main body of the palace. He had seen the
twinborn guard captain's hulking Source approaching from a side corridor and
for a moment he had thought to evade him. To his chagrin, his conscience
overruled him and he resigned himself to taking on whatever burden Varnus was
about to lay across his shoulders.

"Brannis," Varnus called after him as he
rounded the corner and quickened his pace to catch up. "Brannis, a word if
I might." Palace staff had been struggling with what to call him since his
tenure as grand marshal had ended and his new position had no official moniker.
Many had gone back to calling him "Sir Brannis" but Varnus had taken
to dropping honorifics entirely. Kyrus supposed it was simpler, even if it
sounded overly familiar.

Kyrus stopped and turned to look back over his
shoulder. "What is it? I am on my way to see Emperor Sommick."

"This'll just be a moment. Besides, I'm on my
way there myself."

Kyrus pointed to the door of a guard station and
Varnus shooed the occupants out. He followed the guard captain inside and threw
a shielding spell across the door as he closed it.

"How goes your traveling magic show?"
Kyrus asked. He leaned against one of the plain wooden desks that the guards
used for writing their log books and filing written reports—those that were
literate, at least.

"We're making good time heading west along the
foothills," Varnus replied. "I've been doing well to keep Wendell's
shows to a minimum, though he's got some twist in his brain about them and
won't quit entirely."

"So why the urgency?" Kyrus asked.

"Something happened last night," Varnus
answered, lowering his voice. "We stopped in some sleepy little mining
town and the place looked like it had been attacked. Bodies were lined up in
the road—a bunch of outlanders. Didn't get a good look, but sure as sunrise
they weren't Takalish. Constables took us out of the wagon we rode in on,
dragged us off and questioned us."

"Are you alright?" Kyrus asked. "Did
they take the boy?"

"It's Takalia, not Hurlan. We're fine, Jadon
and all. We had nothing to do with that and it didn't take 'em too long to
figure that out. Still, from the bit of a look I had at the bodies, I think
they were probably coinblades."

"Well, thank you for keeping me apprised
but—"

"Was it your doing?" Varnus interrupted.

"Mine?" Kyrus asked. "I have been
down in Khesh and Brannis is not so mobile as to get between—"

"No, I meant did—"

"Stop interrupting me!" Kyrus snapped.
"You want to know whether I set protectors along your path to ward off
Denrik Zayne's hired blades? The answer is 'no.' I advised you to part ways
with Wendell for your own safety. It sounds like a good time to repeat that
advice. That boy is a jousting prize at this point, and you are liable to get
run down by someone looking to win him."

"You don't suppose it might be Tanner coming to
the rescue, do you?" Varnus asked. "The descriptions they gave of the
two killers was a little vague, but they were outlanders, not Takalish, and the
bodies looked cut up pretty good."

"Well, unless Denrik Zayne and Tanner took to
land to look for the boy themselves, I think not. Tanner is my liaison to
Megrenn—for all that is worth these days—and has not left Zayne's ship."

Varnus's shoulders slumped. "Well, I'll be
careful I guess. I was hoping you might have some idea about what was going
on," Varnus said. He reached for the door handle but paused a moment,
sniffing the air, and reached instead for the mug on the guards' desk. Lifting
it to his nose, Varnus frowned at the contents. He took a great snort that near
turned Kyrus's stomach, then spat into the mug and returned it to its place.

"Teach 'em to drink on duty," Varnus
muttered.

Kyrus quietly released the spell holding the door
shut and leaned away to let Varnus pass. When the guard captain was out of
sight, Kyrus gave the mug a poke and spilled it across the table. Deserved or
not, his stomach felt better knowing no one was going to drink it.

* * * * * * *
*

Emperor Sommick was holding an informal court in his
spacious chambers. Since he had realized he could get away with it, he did
nearly everything informally. A pillowed lounging couch served as his throne
and he half sat, half lay sprawled across it as Kyrus entered.

"Sir Brannis, come in, come in. What kept
you?" Emperor Sommick smiled as he spoke, but Kyrus heard the reproach
clearly enough: "Where were you? I sent for you an hour ago."

"I was detained seeing to a few of the
trifling, but utterly essential tasks that I look after so that you do not have
to divert your attention from all this," Kyrus replied, waving his hand
around to indicate everything in the room: the pillows on which his courtiers
reclined, the musicians, the wine pourers, the harlots who had been added to
the serving staff at his command.

The emperor's smile flickered briefly before resuming
its indolence. "Well, you are here now. I have an announcement I plan to
make. Sir Brannis, you advised me to spend my days finding an empress, did you
not?"

"Yes, Your Highness, I did," Kyrus
replied.

"I believe you also forbade me choosing my
empress from among the Circle. Is that not also true?"

"I pointed out that there would be opposition
from the Inner Circle and advised strongly against it, Your Highness. I did
not—cannot—forbid you anything," answered Kyrus. He sensed a trap being
set but had no choice but to play along.

"There was also talk that I ought to find a
more decorous way to test the noble ladies with whom I would share my
empire," Sommick said. He painted pretty words around treating half the
empire's unwed noble girls as whores, and pitting them against one another for
his affections. "But I have found a path around that mountain."
Sommick paused and widened his smile.