The Danger with Allies

by Meagan Hurst

  Nodding to those seated as she passed the second through seventh chairs, she took her position in the ninth and eyed the room before her. There were at least four thousand Rangers present. It was going to be more than a mere quest for information; if she wasn’t careful it would be a shadow hunt. Inhaling to steady herself, Z hesitated before she spoke.

  “I have received the summons to attend the investigation into Kitra le Tribarn’s death since I was in the room during the time of her passing, and due to the fact that the manner of her passing was even more violent than it was originally presumed to be. I have agreed to the summons and, as I sit here, you have my permission to begin.”

  She turned and inclined her head to the next Council member in theoretical power. Harvario en Wystnri nodded once in acceptance of her words before he stood in front of his chair. He began the very long and lengthy opening declaration of Ranger rules, rights, and the basic laws governing this type of meeting. Z let her mind tune out—knowing all of this—and tried not to focus on the empty chair beside her; a chair that would be filled by a stranger when the time came to assign Kitra’s position to another.

  Damn you, Crilyne, she raged in silence. Why did you do it? What would have driven you to betray me like this? To betray Kitra? Knowing he would be listening for any sign of her thoughts, she kept her defenses even higher than her usual paranoid level. When the time came that she could ask—when the time came that she would demand an answer—she wanted to be standing before him, instead of miles away. She presumed he was still with the Mithane, and he would find it much, much harder to betray her. Blinking as she heard her name, she sighed and drew herself back out into the world.

  “I was in the room when the spell set to destroy Kitra—and anyone else who happened to be nearby—went off,” she confirmed with a frown at the speaker before he could declare her distracted and repeat the question.

  The older man scowled. “And why did you not alert anyone to the predicament? Surely Kitra le Tribarn deserved finer last moments than to be a trigger to a spell, and then be reduced to nothing more than ash. I presume her death was exceptionally painful.”

  “I did not alert anyone to the predicament because I failed to check for a such a spell. I was concerned for Kitra,” Z admitted. “It never occurred to me that Midestol would take his torture and ridicule of her one step further. I was trying to listen to her—I wasn’t expecting her to be trapped. By the time I realized there was a problem, it was too late to seek help. I shielded myself—”

  “And not Kitra?” Another Council member snapped.

  “She was being destroyed from the inside,” Z said without pause. “Would you have preferred that I had shielded her, and her agony lengthened because the spell could not manifest? All that would have accomplished was that the spell would have slowly eaten away at her from the inside out.” Her voice took on an edge and she glared at the speaker. “I could do nothing. I—”

  Yet another of the other Council members got involved. Raising a hand, the woman addressed not Z, but the man who had interrupted her. “Crosmas, enough,” she declared as her eyes moved to Z’s. “Kitra was Zimliya’s Guardian. I highly doubt she did not consider everything she could. Had she been able to help Kitra, she would have. There was no game of lives here.”

  Oh, but there was. And it was also a game of power. Kitra’s death had been Midestol’s way of changing the boundaries. It was also the first step of Crilyne’s open betrayal. Not to mention, had she noticed the spell, Kitra would possibly have lived—though Z would have had to be willing to heal the woman. But she hadn’t. The pull to keep her magic contained and hidden had proven to be stronger than the ties of loyalty she felt to Kitra. Yes, the woman had asked her not to heal her, but Z knew Kitra; Kitra had asked that of her because she knew how Z felt about magic.

  An argument broke out, and Z fell silent and just let it continue. Taking control wouldn’t help the situation. Kitra had been loved and well respected, and it had been a few years since a Council member had been killed. Everyone was shocked, hurt, and frightened. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on keeping calm and together. Though there were no spies among the Rangers, she didn’t want to worry them further by seeming to be weaker than they were used to.

  “If you all are finished making this a shadow hunt, may I speak up and point out you are forgetting the most basic of information? Zimliya was Kitra’s charge, and yet not even one of you has so much as asked Zimliya how she is doing. On top of that, no one has asked Zimliya if she is alright. If there was a spell in the room and Zimliya was within the room when it went off, it is not inconceivable to assume she may very well have been wounded. And since it is Zimliya, she might not even know.”

  This speaker she knew well. Standing, she offered him a formal Alantaion bow—which the man returned in full. “Qualaris,” she greeted with heavy relief as a smile escaped. “How have you been?”

  “Getting progressively older, but that’s to be expected. Don’t bother with the small talk, Zimliya. How are you?” Wrinkles had increased in his face since she had seen him seven years ago, and he moved more stiffly than she remembered, but his green eyes were the dark color she knew, and they still glittered with intelligence and the familiar humor.

  He was one of the old-school Warrior Mages. At just over ninety-two, he was also one of the few Rangers to live well into retirement. He had been instrumental in her early schooling, and because of that, there was a level of trust between them; then again, he had never doubted her. Perhaps it was her grief, but for the first time, Z was able to fully appreciate the people who had stood beside her as she had grown up and tackled her demons: her Ranger allies, her heirs, and the immortal rulers who had stepped up to back her in the beginning.

  “I’m alright,” she assured him as she forced herself to step back. “I wasn’t wounded physically.” She stiffened and blinked at the last word she hadn’t intended to say at all.

  “Emotionally?” Qualaris asked. He held her eyes with his before he smiled. It was a bitter one, and it told her she needed to conceal her expression. “Ah, my dear, how wronged you have been by this.” He turned away from her. “Did none of you morons consider the fact that you are dragging her through the mud on your little shadow hunt and because it is Z, she is willing to let you? She’s already haunted by Kitra’s death—does she truly deserve more ghosts thrown on top of her?”

  She could feel the Rangers shifting in their seats as Qualaris confronted them. The man had been offered a seat on the Council before she had even been born, but he had somehow managed to turn it down by saying there were far better than he to occupy it. Despite that, his words still carried a lot of power, and it was clear his age had not affected his stubborn streak.

  “Ah, so you didn’t consider you actions. My, my, my, how embarrassing. All you were after was someone to blame other than the ones responsible! She came here to honor Kitra and had the unfortunate experience of being with her when she was destroyed. And now, you’re making it worse. You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves!” Scowling at the gathered Rangers—council and non-council members alike—Qualaris turned back to her.

  “So, how is immortality going?”

  “Considering I have already been faced with watching someone I cared for die far too soon?”

  “That well, huh? Good thing I was never offered your choice. Or your power.” Qualaris glanced around the room. “How about I take over the questioning?”

  Since it was a thinly veiled order, no one bothered to protest. Snorting with satisfaction, the ancient Ranger turned back to her. His questions were considerate, well thought out, and yet demanded knowledge she might not have surrendered when asked in another manner. She answered the questions as best she could, and she struggled to hide her pain. She didn’t have to, it might have been to her benefit to let them know that yes, she did miss Kitra and, yes, she did blame herself in part for how it had ended, but she had been trained to keep things to herself. Safety was in
secrets.

  “I have a lead,” she admitted when Qualaris asked. “It is not much, but I am in agreement with everyone here that Kitra wouldn’t have fallen into such a trap without guidance or betrayal. I will follow my lead, but I cannot promise you a time frame. I have previous obligations that are no less important than this, and therefore, none of them can be set aside. But I will follow it, and when I have solid information, I will bring it here.” Or she would bring them the Shade’s body.

  “There, you see? Everyone threw around accusations for nothing!” Qualaris declared as he shook his finger at the gathered men and woman before him. “Of all people not to trust, you decided to go with your de la Nepioa? Damn good thing I turned down my seat when it was offered.”

  Only when he appeared to be certain the congregation had been chided to his satisfaction did he turn back to her. “And how is your Dragon?”

  “Worried, but otherwise fine. He’s…different,” she admitted. “He’s not the Dragon you feared.”

  “If you fell for him, my dear, he couldn’t be.” Qualaris glanced over his shoulder as the doors to the room opened, and Z saw his smile stiffen. “Speak of the devil though…” he muttered.

  Nivaradros strolled in through the doors with Sabaias at his side. The two immortals surveyed the room for a moment before Nivaradros took an empty seat at the back of the room… for five and a half seconds. When Sabaias didn’t take the seat beside him the Dragon vacated his seat. Z heard the Dragon trying to reason with the Nialtian the whole way down the aisle, but she was certain no one else could hear the argument. As Sabaias hit the main platform, he paused and let his eyes roam the whole of the room before they settled on her and Qualaris.

  “Are you through with her?” Sabaias asked with frost encasing every syllable. “I would like to give Zimliya a chance to regain her bearings in peace, without being ambushed and accused by her own people. If her immortality is the root of your distrust, I am certain she would agree to not wave it in your face—Oh wait, she already doesn’t do that!”

  “Sabaias…” she growled before he could continue. “Enough.”

  “No,” he countered, as his eyes blazed with anger. It was an impressive display; bright flaming teal eyes with his skin tone made him look far more dangerous than she was used to, and several Rangers around him leaned away from the Nialtian as a result.

  “Sabaias, you are upsetting Z,” Nivaradros injected with a smile that showed teeth that were far too white and straight. “You can upset everyone else,” the Dragon added in a helpful tone. “But not her, she’s been through much these last few years.” He moved to her side before she could protest and grabbed one of her daggers. Cutting through her shirt as she grabbed one of her other daggers and tried to block him, he pulled apart the edges of cloth to reveal the scars on her chest. “Hasn’t she been through enough?” he asked everyone. “Will you become Tenia all over again? Distrustful because she’s different and powerful? Will you scar her once more, but deeper, harsher, and far crueler because you were instrumental in healing her the first time?”

  The silence could have possibly been cut with Kyi’rinn, but the Dragon’s words had wounded the Rangers. They didn’t have an answer ready for him, at least not immediately.

  “No Dragonlord,” Qualaris said at long last. “We will not become Tenia. She is ours, and we are honored to have her. This was a miscommunication and a betrayal of the trust we should have in her, yes, but we are not so foolish as to dismiss her upon it. Grief has wounded some of us enough that logic has been replaced with absurdity.”

  “Have you forgotten she was in the room with Kitra when this happened?!” Aliassya demanded.

  “Have you forgotten that Kitra requested to be left alone with Z?” Nivaradros retorted to Aliassya while mimicking her voice—he did it well, not that that helped.

  “Watch your tone, Dragon,” Aliassya hissed. “You could perish. There are enough of us here to ensure that.”

  “I would be willing to contest that,” Z murmured. All eyes moved to her and she shrugged. “Nivaradros is a force to be reckoned with when he is in a mood.”

  “I wouldn’t bet my army against him,” Sabaias added as his teeth showed. “But, then again, I wouldn’t be foolish enough to threaten Zimliya.”

  “We are not threatening Zimliya!” Yashiria rushed to say. The Council member shot Aliassya a very dark look before she sighed. “Zimliya, our apologies, we didn’t mean for this to turn out this way. We are simply concerned with what happened, and we needed to make sure no breaches had occurred. You are still a Ranger, and no breaches have been found—you are therefore free to go. Please do keep us informed as to whether or not your lead pans out. We would like to bring someone to justice if we can.”

  Z hid a cringe. She already knew who it was. The problem was how to handle him. She hoped things didn’t get any worse. Of course, the minute she thought that she was proved wrong—things could always get much, much worse. There was a light touch on her senses before the doors to the meeting hall opened yet again and another familiar voice rang out with some surprise.

  “Oh, my word you’re here?!”

  All eyes turned to her since there was very little doubt in anyone’s mind which ‘you’re’ was being mentioned. Cursing under her breath and hoping to any power that could be listening that seven years would have had some effect on the speaker, Z stood and straightened. “Don’t act so surprised,” she said in a lofty tone. “I do live here.”

  “Yep…you’ve slept here twice to my recollection,” was the dry answer as a man just a year or two younger than her strolled down the stairs that led to the platform. “But I don’t think that counts.” Brown eyes danced as they met hers, and the smile that appeared hadn’t changed— to which Z took immediate concern.

  “Ryedrin,” she sighed in disgust. “Could you make any more of an entrance?” she demanded as the young man laughed and bowed to her. Stifling a second sigh, Z ground her teeth together. It was clear he hadn’t changed for the better, in fact, she was willing to bet he had become worse.

  “Master,” he replied in a fake respectful tone.

  “I am not your Master!” she snapped right as Nivaradros and Sabaias glanced at her in surprise.

  “Master?” the two chorused.

  “Well you are,” Ryedrin argued as his arms crossed.

  “Forget you heard that word!” she hissed to the immortals. Turning back to the twenty-four year old Ranger Warrior, she fixed him with her blackest stare. “Whatever are you doing?”

  “Paying my respects to the fallen—”

  “She hated you!”

  “—and hoping to catch you. It’s been a while since I got to visit with you, oh teacher of mine.”

  Nivaradros and the Nialtian stared at her again. “You have a student?!” Sabaias exclaimed.

  “Had. Past tense. Will-not-be-repeated.” Glaring at all of them, Z debated which one to strangle first. “It was a disaster.”

  “It was the accomplishment of a lifetime,” Qualaris interjected. “But we all wondered if Z was going to kill him. They didn’t exactly get along, and Ryedrin was…difficult.”

  “Difficult?” Nivaradros growled before fixing the Ryedrin with a death stare. “Difficult how?”

  “Relax, Nivaradros,” Z sighed. “He only tried to kill me once.”

  The Dragon whirled to face her. “Only?!” he hissed.

  “He came from Tenia,” Z added as though that explained everything—it should have, but upon glancing at both Nivaradros and Sabaias, she could tell it didn’t. “In Tenia, women aren’t allowed to even handle weapons so Ryedrin took offense that Aliassya, then Kitra, then I became his teacher. I fixed this oversight, but in the meantime, he set me up to get captured by Midestol. It almost cost both of us our lives, so I let it go. He’s been fine since then. He is a halfway decent Warrior—”

  “He finished his training in three years,” Qualaris added. “Which is one of the shortest training periods on
record. And yes, before you ask, Zimliya made that list as well.”

  “She was a solid teacher,” Ryedrin admitted. “Though we still don’t see eye to eye on many things, I learned a lot from her. I’m better at working with mortals though, which worked out in our favor. If we need someone to deal with immortals, we send Z, and if it’s mortals—such as deals with the former kingdom of Tenia—I am sent.” He offered Z a smile that was meant to be disarming. “Other than her five-in-the-morning wake up calls, she is a wonderful teacher.”

  “Flattery isn’t going to gain you anything, Ryedrin,” Z reminded him. “Especially when you just reminded me how much of a pain in the ass you were to get out of bed in the morning. Three buckets of ice-cold water occasionally got him to move—five washed the entire floor in his dwelling. About the only thing positive that came out of training him was that his room never smelled; it was washed daily.”

  Ryedrin smiled before he extended his hand to Sabaias. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Ryedrin,” he added, although his name had been used several times.

  “Sabaias, but I would advise you not to offer your hand to the Dragon; he may eat it at this point.” The Nialtian did shake the offered hand. “You were Z’s student?”