Sourcethief (Book 3) (8 page)

What was that about bird aether?
an echoing voice asked in
Jinzan's mind.

Jinzan shooed the acolyte away with a hand gesture,
waiting until he was alone until he responded.

That was a trivial matter. What
news, Narsicann?
Jinzan asked, having expected to hear from his colleague as soon as there was
news from Azzat.

Oh, I am afraid I decided to
simplify the lines of communication. I am the one you truly wished to speak to,
the voice informed him.

You are the demon who rules
Azzat?
Jinzan
inquired.

It is amusing how I can go
generations as a myth, but the emergence of another demon rekindles the belief.
Yes, I am Xizix, ruler of Azzat.

Narsicann must have explained
then why we wished to speak with you.

He mentioned two items of
interest to me. Rashan Solaran is one, and a mysterious sorcerer among the
Kadrins is the other. Speak. You have my attention.

We seek to rally forces against
Kadrin, specifically in putting an end to Rashan Solaran's bloodthirsty
predations,
Jinzan began.
The other matter is less pressing but may become even more of
a danger. The Kadrins have another sorcerer, a young man named Brannis Solaran,
with a Source beyond reckoning.

I will end your speculations on
the first matter abruptly. While I may lend certain information about Rashan, I
will not stand against him unless he sets foot upon Azzat.

You fear him as well, then?
Jinzan asked. Distance made him
bold, as did his recent victory over Loramar's defenses. Sitting amid the
necromancer's works, he felt like a proper heir to the master's power.

We have an agreement that
predates your birth. He may be a lying snake dealing with your kind, but he
dares not break his word among the immortals—at least not more so than he
already has. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say he would not be so
blatant. For my end, dangerous as he is, I will still not act to break that
pact.

What of the second matter, then?
Brannis Solaran.

If you can arrange to send him
here, I would deal with him. I will not leave Azzat undefended.

I find that acceptable. Thank
you. If you could pass the helm back to Narsicann, I would speak with him.

Oh dear ... I believe there has
been an idiomatic failure. My Megrenn is outdated, I fear. I said I 'simplified
the lines of communication.' You were supposed to have inferred that I killed
him already. Goodnight, Jinzan Fehr.

When the contact ended, Jinzan realized that he had
not picked up his own helm from where it rested on the desk.

Tanner walked the crowded streets of Kadris, head
down, letting his eyes absorb the puzzle of feet and carts and loose
cobblestones, avoiding obstacles and collisions by instinct. Armed and
uniformed, he was still jostled occasionally, but he made no complaint and
offered no apology for his carelessness.

Tanner needed to sort out how he would present his
plan. He had forced himself to head for army headquarters lest he spend all day
brooding over the matter. "I just need him for a few days ..." he
said to himself, barely moving his lips or putting breath behind his words. He
shook his head and tried again.

"Brannis, I think I have a plan. We can try
trading the boy for the staff ..."

"You know, maybe we shouldn't be keeping the
kid from his father. Think of it as good will ..."

"Brannis, you ever think that maybe pissing in
Denrik Zayne's ale isn't doing me any good in Tellurak and might get me tossed
in the Katamic one of these days soon? Let me just bring him Anzik."

Tanner gave the last one some serious thought.
No,
he dumped me in that wooden teacup with Zayne. He knew I was as good as dead
and didn't care.
Tanner stopped. He noticed that the cobblestones had given
way to the wide flagstones of Kalak Square and looked up to see the Kadrin Army
headquarters. Kyrus was inside, or Brannis, or whoever he was. A half-formed
plan floated through Tanner's mind telling him to run, to flee Kadris and Kyrus
in one world and Captain Zayne and the
Fair Trader
in the other.

Tanner's feet were moving again before he had time
to daydream up more trouble than he could figure a way out of. He had already
made things bad enough by agreeing to Denrik Zayne's plan. Keeping his eyes
straight ahead, he crossed Kalak Square and made his way inside.

Soldiers inside saluted, each raising a fist as
Lieutenant Tanner passed. Tanner gave a perfunctory salute in return without
meeting anyone's gaze. Even the one superior officer he passed made no comment
at his lack of deference. Everyone knew he was on his way to see Sir Brannis,
and that meant no one dared delay him.

When Brannis had first taken the position as Grand
Marshal, Tanner had heard the news secondhand from his post in Naran Port. Some
of the soldiers there had joked that Sir Brannis was the warlock's singing boy.
Others claimed he was Rashan's bedmate. None had credited him with being the
mastermind the warlock saw in him. None would have dared say anything to
Brannis's face about it either. He had Rashan's protection.

Since Kyrus had taken Brannis's place, that had
changed. The new Brannis, the one with magic, no longer played the jolly
comrade by making up for his inexperience with good nature and humility. Kyrus
might nod to his underlings as he passed by, but rarely spoke with them. Rumors
had spread about some of the things he had done since "discovering"
his magical powers; most of the soldiers preferred being ignored. The talk had
ended about Brannis being sheltered under the protection of his demonic
benefactor. He no longer seemed to need it.

The upper floor of the headquarters was nearly
deserted. Officers came and went when need arose, but when other places were
available to them, most tried to be elsewhere. Tanner was not the most
sensitive Source when it came to feeling the aether, but he knew that strong
magic was at work. The feeling grew as he approached the office that Kyrus had
converted into his workshop. The door was closed when he reached it, as well as
locked and warded.

Tanner knocked, knowing that he would have to wait
for Kyrus to let him in. It was just as well, since whatever was going on
inside might kill him if he were to intrude. He had seen the speaking stone
Kyrus was working on. Even with his limited expertise in rune-carving, the
sheer complexity of the thing was worrisome.

After a moment, Tanner felt the shifting in the
aether as the wards lifted. The door swung inward and allowed him entry.

"That time already?" Kyrus asked. He was
bent over the incomplete speaking stone, looking up from it as Tanner entered.
Tanner had seen it grow over the course of its construction—layer upon layer of
glass added, runes carved, then back to the glazier to begin another cycle.

"Yeah," Tanner replied. The door closed
behind him as the wards sealed them in.

"Just a moment. I was nearly finish—"

"Can we skip the lesson today?" Tanner
interrupted. Kyrus blinked, his attention turning fully on Tanner as he stood
up.

"To what end? Surely you are not—"

"We need to talk."

"This would be about Denrik Zayne I
assume," Kyrus said. "Is he ready to bargain?"

"Well, he made an offer. I don't know if I'd
call it bargaining."

"He may have missed his chance, I fear. At this
point if he gives up the Staff of Gehlen, I might be able to convince Rashan to
stop slaughtering his people. Maybe," Kyrus said. "So what is he
offering?"

"Boy for the staff."

"Well about time he started being reasonable.
From what I have gathered though, Anzik Fehr is none too eager to return home.
Still I think it best that the boy be returned, and now we do not have to defy
Rashan to give him back."

"Well, now that you mention Rashan,"
Tanner said, pausing as he watched for Kyrus’s reaction. He received none.
"Captain Zayne had an idea how you might be able to get rid of
Rashan."

"Did he now?" Kyrus asked. "I suppose
that his advice is just his contribution to me fulfilling his original
terms."

"Not quite. He wants peace, his son, and a dead
warlock, but he wants the boy back bad enough that he'll wait on Rashan's head
a while." Tanner watched Kyrus, the sorcerer's eyes twitching about though
his face remained a mask. He saw Kyrus's breath quicken. It was the sort of
thing a swordsman looked for in an opponent, but it seemed the same tricks
worked for sorcerers as well—at least new ones.

"Will he give up the staff first?" Kyrus
asked.

"Before he gets the boy back?"

"Forget the boy. Yes, of course he gets his son
in the bargain. Will he give up the staff without having evidence of Rashan's
death?"

Tanner swallowed. He did not care to hear how close
Kyrus sounded to actual treason. The soldier in him hard a hard time hearing
someone plot the death of a superior.

"He wants you to meet someone. A demon,"
Tanner said.

"What demon?" Kyrus's eyes narrowed as
they fixed on Tanner's. There was no escape in them.

"Azzat. Everyone said there was some demon king
beneath the place, running things from the belly of the world. Well, it's true
enough. His name is Xizix. I guess he's expecting you."

* * * * * * *
*

There was a chair in Kyrus's office. It was neither
beloved nor particularly comfortable, but Kyrus found himself in it often. He
had dragged it away from his desk to face the large window that overlooked
Kalak Square and much of Kadris. His office was high enough that he could see
above the shops and homes and warehouses to get a clear view of the palace.
Through the leaded glass he could hear muffled music from the streets below.
Founding Day had arrived, despite the myriad distractions that had caused him
to forget its approach.

Kyrus looked down at the black flecks of fresh ink
that stained his fingers. He rubbed his fingers together, watching the ink
smear across his skin.
When was I last this careless with ink?
He had
penned two missives in haste, his plans coalescing faster than he could convey.

The first was a special set of orders for the
captain of the
Black Gull
. He would be taking on two passengers and
would receive further orders from them once the
Black Gull
was airborne
and well away from Kadris.

The second was to the home of Faolen Sarmon. The
timing would be sensitive, but Founding Day was as good a chance as any to
ensure that Faolen would be away. Kyrus shook his head. Much as he would have
wanted time to plan the endeavor in detail, the opportunity to deflect
attention from his own involvement was too great to pass up.

The door opened and closed behind him. Kyrus had
been preoccupied and had not reactivated his wards. He closed his eyes and took
a silent breath to steel himself.

"Kyrus, there you are," Celia called from
across the room. Kyrus gritted his teeth. His back was turned to her, so he had
a moment to compose himself.

"I am thinking. And stop calling me that, even
when we are alone."

"We
are
alone though. What’s wrong?"
Celia came around his chair and positioned herself between him and the window.
"Everyone is off preparing for the feasts, yet here you sit
brooding."

"I am not brooding. I said I was
thinking." Kyrus forced himself to smile up at her. "Is it Caladris
looking for me, or just you?"

"Neither. Rashan arrived back just a short
while ago. He had been expecting to find you at the palace. He sent me to look
for you but I didn't have to; I knew you would be right here. You are too
predictable," Celia said, smiling down at him. She grabbed hold of the
arms of Kyrus's chair as she leaned in to kiss him.

Predictable?
Kyrus had a fleeting moment of
panic as the thought occurred that perhaps he was.
She is playing at being
Abbiley's twin. I am playing at believing her. What if Caladris told her I
know? Was that a subtle hint?
He kissed her back, trying to divorce the act
from the knowledge of who he was kissing.

"Brannis," Celia said, making a point of
using his Kadrin name, "what's wrong? You seem distracted."

"Am I so predictable?" Kyrus asked. It was
the first evasion that came to mind.

"Well maybe not in all your tactical
plotting," Celia said, giving a nod at the aetherial map of Koriah that
Kyrus kept. "But when it comes to everything else, I would say so. It's
alright though, darling, I find it adorable." She placed a hand on his
cheek as she smiled down at him.
'Darling' indeed. Caladris is still
coaching her to talk like Abbiley does to Tomas.

Kyrus pushed her hand away and stood, forcing her to
stumble back a step.

"If we are expected at the palace, then
..." Kyrus said, trailing off as he got a view of the streets below.

"Yes, quite a crowd," Celia said, taking
him by the arm and looking out at the view. "It took twice as long as
usual to make my way from the palace."

"I have no patience for that today."

"I'm sure for
you
they will clear a
path—"

"They will not have to."

Celia let out a gasp and clutched tightly to Kyrus
as they both rose from the ground. The chair that Kyrus had been using drifted
out of their way as they floated into the middle of the room.

"Kyrus ...
Brannis!
What are you
doing?"

It took effort with Celia shrieking in his ear, but
Kyrus drew carefully and cleared his mind of everything but thoughts of the
transference spell. A sphere of aether surrounded them, just barely clearing
their toes and heads, and disturbed neither the structure nor the furniture of
Kyrus's office.

A blink later they were in Kyrus's bedchambers in
the palace.

"Where are—" Celia began, but stopped as
she realized the answer to her half-formed question. She pushed herself away
from Kyrus, shoving him hard with both hands. "How dare you do that! You,
you ..."

"I saved us pushing our way through half the
population of Kadris to get here. We would have been late for the feasting."

"You still had no right to do that without at
least telling me first." Celia crossed her arms, her face set into a very
professional-looking huff.

"Really? I thought I had been given all sorts
of leeway. You wrote the decree to that effect yourself," Kyrus said. A
smirk crossed his face.

"You did that on purpose." Realization
dawned and Celia's expression hardened. She was pretty when angry but looked
less like Abbiley, who Kyrus could not recall having ever seen frown. It made
riling her all the more worthwhile.

Kyrus said nothing in reply, but let a knowing grin
act as his answer. He held it in place as Celia waited in vain for a proper
answer. At length she grew impatient and her glance wandered around the room.

"The door is warded," Celia said.

"I left it that way this morning."

"You know ... Rashan wouldn't expect us to be
back so soon," Celia said, licking her lips. Kyrus shook his head.

"There is no way he missed noticing my
transference spell. He definitely knows we are here and is probably wondering
what the delay is." Kyrus gave Celia a stern look.

"I'd hate to make him doubt himself,"
Celia said. She turned fully to face Kyrus, locking her gaze on his own.
Well,
she knows she has to keep hold of my leash. I would wager half the empire's treasury
that she is fuming behind that smile.