The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey (21 page)

“Are you sure he will even still teach me?”
she asked quickly before he could shut the door.

“Without a doubt, just give him a bit,” he
replied before shutting the door and walking briskly toward the
closest portal stone. He hoped she didn’t get the wrong idea and
begin to think she was another misfit to add to his collection. He
hoped the twins would reassure her that not all of his household
was broken. They were not exactly pillars of society, but they were
most definitely not broken. He hoped Madren wouldn’t send her
screaming to her rooms to pack before he got back. Too many
hopes
he realized and wished again he didn’t have to go meet
his father. He would much rather remain behind and make sure the
day went well. He gave another sigh and resolved to return as soon
as possible.

“You are late, Christian,” his father said as
the door to the study closed behind him. His voice held neither
anger nor concern. He simply stated fact.

Shade gave him an apologetic smile. “Trouble
with my household, Father. Please forgive me.” Mythandar Morcaillo,
High Lord of Morcath was as immaculate as ever. To Shade’s eyes, he
wore the house colors like armor.
He could pass for my brother,
a sterner brother to be sure but still
, Shade mused. The years
did not show on his father at all. He looked perhaps twenty five at
most. In truth Shade had no idea how old he truly was. His hair was
deep auburn, a touch darker than his own, but in all other ways,
Shade was a younger, less severe shadow of his father. The High
Lord, Myth, was watching Shade from a straight backed leather chair
across the room. His expression giving away nothing of his
emotions. He was like that always though. If you didn’t know him
very well, you could never guess what he was thinking. “Nothing too
terrible I hope?” he asked, once Shade had seated himself in a
nearby chair.

“No, nothing serious at all,” Shade replied,
easily hoping he was being truthful and Jala wasn’t running as fast
as she could from his rooms, with Madren chasing her down. He
quickly pushed the mental image away and focused completely on his
father. Myth could tell when his mind was straying, and it never
pleased him.

Myth gave a slight nod, apparently satisfied
and uninterested in further details. “The taxes were light and you
did not explain why in your ledger,” he said.

As straight to the point as ever, Shade
noted. In some ways, his father was quite predictable. “I wanted to
speak with you about that in person, actually, so I declined noting
it in the ledgers. I had planned to explain to you when I delivered
the taxes but Mother was being difficult.”

Myth nodded in understanding. “As she often
is, I understand. However, I would like that explanation now.”

“As you may have heard last winter was a bad
one for a few of the neutral quarters,” he began, well aware that
he would need to explain this quickly and word it well or his
father’s mood would darken. “They had plague and starvation. I was
concerned for our own people lest it spread so I took steps to
prevent that. I hired healers and sent them into the most heavily
afflicted areas. I sent stored provisions to them to counteract the
starvation, and I hired men to remove the rats and waste that had
begun to pile up in those areas. Not long after I had begun to
help, the refugees from that area began to come here, so I took yet
more funds and built housing for them in the form of apartments.
Our own population has grown considerably from it, and I expect
this fall’s taxes to be substantially higher.” He watched his
father, wishing for just once he could read the man’s
expressions.

“While all of that is very good, Christian,
the neutral quarters are not our concern. Our people are. It would
have been cheaper to hire more guards for our own gates to keep
them out than to take the steps you chose. I know you meant well,
but our taxes are there to provide for our quarter. I cannot
believe a few more citizens paying taxes will cover what you have
spent improving a quarter that is not our responsibility.” There
was mild reproach in his father’s tone. “Still, you have acted
nobly to help those people, and I’m sure you will consider other
paths in the future.”

“I actually believe I will have the full cost
covered, father. I have made another arrangement as well that I
believe will prove quite profitable.” Shade stood as he spoke and
crossed the room. He took a decanter and two glasses off the shelf
and hoped his gamble paid off. “This is actually part of that
arrangement, Father,” he said as he sat back down and placed the
decanter and glasses on the table beside him.

Myth regarded him for a moment and raised an
eyebrow. “Wine? Explain!” The disapproval was gone from his voice
replaced with a trace of interest.

“Sovann Sovaesh makes this, actually. When I
heard of it, I offered him a building free of charge in our quarter
to produce it. He accepted, and from what I understand the first of
this will be distributed at the Spring Games.” He opened the
decanter and tried to ignore how his father’s face had darkened at
the word free. “It’s called Essence wine,” he said and poured the
liquid carefully. It glowed a faint blue in the glasses with a
delicate pale mist rising from it. As he had hoped, his father’s
attention had turned to the wine and his expression had gone back
to neutral. “Try it,” he urged and offered his father a glass. He
picked up his own and took a sip, his eyes closing part way as the
first taste of it hit his lips. Sovann had truly out-done himself
with this. The wine was simply the finest tasting beverage to be
had, and there were of course the benefits to it, as well. He
watched his father closely as he drank the wine and waited a long
moment until the first effects had time to set in.

“The tingle after the drink is that it
replenishes your magic,” he explained and was rewarded with a look
of genuine surprise on Myth’s normally stoic face. “He has found a
way to distill magic, Father, and it will be produced in our
quarter. Not only does it taste wonderful, it is beneficial.” He
allowed himself a smug smile. “And the best part of it is this: In
order to make it, he must have a healthy supply of mage stones. He
cannot possibly fill the stones himself, without leaving himself
open to attack, so he pays our citizens to fill the stones. It
takes more of them to fill them, of course, but they make very good
money doing it and it is all recorded in our books and taxed,” he
finished and sat back to wait.

His father was silent for a long time,
regarding the glass in his hand, and Shade had to fight the urge to
fidget. “I’m impressed, Christian. The bottles of wine will be
taxed as well?” he asked.

Shade nodded. “Yes, Father. He will be
selling them for five thousand gold per bottle,” he answered
quickly.

Myth’s eyebrow rose slightly. “Very
impressive indeed. Now explain to me how it is that you convinced a
Sovaesh to work in our quarter. That family serves the Avanti
House, if I’m not mistaken. As a matter of fact, if I remember
correctly, the senior of the Sovaesh family is House Avanti’s
private assassin.”

“Sovann is a bit of a black sheep as far as
his family goes. His father favors his elder brother, Finn, and
Finn is an ass, so Sovann avoids the entire situation and keeps to
himself. He is not on good terms with the Avanti, either, so that
will not create difficulties between our houses because he had left
their shelter long before I approached him,” Shade explained. He
was rather proud of himself for the arrangement, and seeing his
father pleased, was well worth the effort he had gone through to
accomplish it. Once Shade had sweetened the deal with lighter taxes
and a free building, Sovann wasn’t hard to convince.

Myth took another sip of the wine and gave
another slight nod of approval. “Very good, Christian, I am pleased
on all accounts. You have done very well indeed. Now, I’m sure you
are eager to get to the games. I understand Alex will be fighting
this year as well.” His father’s words were a clear dismissal and
Shade rose accordingly.

“Yes he will, Father, and thank you for your
praise,” he said quietly, doubting Myth truly understood just how
much his praise was worth, nor for how long he had sought it. He
was almost to the door when his father spoke again.

“Oh, one more matter, Christian. We are to
dine with the Avanti house in four days. Odd that they should be in
our conversation already but life works in ironic ways. I will
expect you here no later than the fifth hour of the evening, and
dressed for a formal dinner,” Myth said.

“As you say, Father. I will be here,” Shade
agreed. He quietly opened the door and left the room a bit curious
to know why they were dining with the Avanti but was loathe to ask.
His father did business with the house from time to time, and this
really wasn’t all that unusual. Better simply to wait and see, than
to press his father now.

Myth watched his son go and took another sip
of the wine. It really was a choice beverage. The boy had done well
on that, at least. As to the matter on the neutral quarter, it was
idealist nonsense but could serve as well if he used it correctly.
No doubt the council would approve of such acts. He heard the door
behind him open and didn’t bother turning to look.

“He really is a sweet and thoughtful boy,”
Kali’s voice purred from behind him. She moved silently across the
room and dropped lightly into the chair Christian had just vacated.
She was a pale, beautiful creature, and was covered from head to
toe in a black silk robe. A few strands of her snow white hair and
just a hint of her full red lips showed from within the cowl. “Is
he adopted or did your wife cheat on you?” she asked, all traces of
purr gone from her voice.

Myth gave her a disdainful glance. “He is not
adopted, and as to the latter,” he shrugged. “Who knows?” He set
the wine glass down with exaggerated care. “I did not summon you
here to speak of my son, however. You are here to speak of
business, not my family.” He kept his tone firm. This was not a
woman to trifle with, and he did not want her misunderstanding
their positions here, and think she had the upper hand.

“You didn’t summon me anywhere, Myth. You
asked and I answered. I do not get summoned,” she replied in a tone
as firm as his own. “Business. Mmm. It’s been a long while since
you’ve been up to any serious business; about ten years I think.
I’m sorry that plague thing in Veir didn’t work out for you, by the
way. You did such a wonderful job leading Merrodin through the
whole mess without even getting your hands the least bit dirty. Who
could have ever expected House Veirasha to react that way? Oh, it
is House Dark now, isn’t it? But still, while you didn’t get all of
Veirasha you certainly got all of Merro. Bravo, sir.” She smiled at
him overly sweet as she spoke.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, Kali.
I was not involved in that disaster. If you will but speak to the
council you will understand I made several trips to both Veirasha
and Merro to try to stop that tragedy from occurring,” he said. He
wasn’t sure where she got her information, but it was clear someone
needed to die.

“Oh, of course you did, because everyone
knows you are a paragon of virtue, Mythandar Morcaillo, and that’s
why you asked me here to speak of what we may do to improve this
wonderful prison we share.” Kali’s voice dripped with contempt.
“Cut the shit, Myth. I know you for what you are, and you know me.
You may be used to lying to them, but it does no good to lie to
me.”

He cleared his throat and gave a disgusted
sigh. “I need a common threat to bind them together. I need
something truly terrible that you can create, and I need it soon.
The Fionaveir are up to something and I’m not sure what it is. They
have been speaking with the mercenaries and keeping a very low
profile. I need the High Houses united before then, and you can
make that possible,” he said quietly. Kali was perhaps the best
geneticist in existence, inside the barrier or otherwise. Her
creations bordered on genius, mad genius to be sure, but he didn’t
need sanity for this plan. All he needed was for her to agree.

She tapped a finger against her delicate chin
before answering, as if in deep thought. “So, let me get this
straight. You want to bind the High Houses together so they can
face the Fionaveir united. Under one leader, I’m guessing, and you
want to be that leader. So you need me to create something to spook
them into being good little lackeys. Is that what you are saying?”
She tilted her head in question.

He refrained from grinding his teeth. “More
or less,” he answered, wishing she would stop all of the extra
conversation and simply agree. He was not used to being talked to
in this manner and found it more irritating than he cared to
admit.

She gave a delicate shake of her head. “I
don’t buy it. Let’s be a bit more truthful, Changeling.”

He visibly winced at the use of the word and
had to fight to keep from glaring at her. “Does it matter? I had
thought you enjoyed this sort of thing,” he growled.

She gave a slight nod. “Oh I do, I do, but
it’s just that I like to have things nice and clear when I make a
business arrangement. So as far as I see it, and I will try to be
clear, you are a Changeling, and as far as everyone else knows
Changelings are extinct. They all went through very drastic lengths
to try to make that so. If they knew what you were, they would be
howling for your blood. So you are killing them off one by one, and
want me to create something nasty to help. Is that a little closer
to the mark?” The purr was back in her voice and he desperately
wanted to throttle her.

“That would be very close to the mark,” he
admitted.
May you die with them,
he added silently. “Is
there a problem with this?” he asked after a lengthy silence.