The Veiled Diplomat

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  "This is really bad," said Zayn with his hand on his forehead.

  He went back up to the secret entrance, hoping there was a simple release button to get him back out the door. The play for Prince Orráine was to start in an hour and he needed to get back to prepare since he was the narrator.

  But when he opened the panel, he was confronted with a similar display of fifteen hieroglyphic buttons. And while he knew the six buttons to press, he didn't know in which order, leaving him trapped.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016

  The play must go on

  Zayn slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. The play was going to start in thirty minutes. If he couldn't get back, the guards would know something was wrong. He didn't know how Prince Aethalstar and Prince Orráine got along, but the younger was sure to tell the older.

  He leaned his head against the door, trying to remember a spell that would help him figure out the combination. If the technology had been something human made, he knew a few tricks, but the city elves had different ways of creating electronics that made them much harder to defeat.

  Sure, if he had time and preparation, he could get through the door, but getting locked in a giant chamber with thousands of death machines wasn't in the plan when he'd come to the embassy.

  "Think, think, think," he said, tapping on the door with his knuckles. "How can I get through you?"

  Time was slipping away from him. He rubbed the back of his neck, examining the control panel for the fiftieth time.

  "What do I know about this door? One, it has a nearly unbeatable maetrie-style control panel. Two, it's a secret door. Three, I'm on the wrong side of the stupid thing."

  He was about to go look for another exit, but something about his list bothered him.

  "If it's a secret door, even from the other maetrie, would it have an alarm if I put in the wrong combination? No, that wouldn't work because there's at least forty-five thousand combinations for a six-digit code. But if there's no alarm, then I can try and brute force my way through."

  Stepping back to get enough room for power, Zayn side-kicked the panel, sending up a spray of sparks and residual magical energy. When no alarms sounded, he kicked again, continuing to bash the panel until it was demolished.

  Without the buttons and electronics, the panel was an empty hole, through which he could reach the door mechanism. Reaching through the hole, and using his imbuement, Zayn pushed the door wide enough to fit through.

  Zayn slipped into the Veil and started running back the way he'd come. When he got to the closed door, he knocked once, and when the guard opened it, finding an empty hallway, Zayn ducked under his arm and back to the party.

  He dodged around the partygoers, noticing that in that short time, the crowd had thickened, including a number of the Diamond Court. Zayn almost ran into the mayor when he saw Lady Sebella chatting with Camille Cardwell while her latest consort, a pale man with no eyebrows, stood at her elbow. The pair were laughing between sips of champagne.

  If he had more time, he would have detoured to talk to Priyanka as "Lady Sebella" but it was encouraging that the patron had made it into the embassy. After the play, he would seek her out to let her know what Prince Aethalstar was planning.

  When Zayn appeared behind the stage in the midst of his teammates, who were dressed in their costumes, grousing about his absence, they looked ready to fall over in relief.

  "I was beginning to worry that something had happened to you," said Keelan. "You need to get into your costume now. Prince Orráine is out there, and the play is already late."

  Zayn started throwing on his costume, with help from Vin, and he spoke as rapidly as he could.

  "This isn't an embassy, this is a fortress. There's an army of killing machines in a massive basement beneath the Grand Ballroom. Prince Aethalstar is about to start a war, and we've supplied a room full of hostages."

  With his shirt over his head, Zayn threw Vin a handful of brooches. "I grabbed a couple of these. Check them out while I'm on stage, and see if you can find any extra enchantments hidden on them." His gaze fell upon Petri, who stared back tight-lipped. "And you, we have to get you out of the embassy as soon as the play is over. We'll use breaking down the equipment as a reason to stay, but you need to get out. It's too dangerous for you here with what's about to go on."

  To his surprise, Petri didn't argue. "I'll go straight to Aunt Amber's place. She'll know what to do next."

  "Good idea," said Zayn.

  "What are we going to do about the army and Prince Aethalstar?" asked Skylar.

  "I...I don't know," said Zayn. "Concentrate on the performance while I try to think of something. We need to make sure they don't think anything is wrong."

  "Anything else?" asked Vin.

  Zayn blew out a breath. "Break a leg?"

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016

  Exit stage

  Between kicking the secret door panel open and running through the party while hidden in the Veil, Zayn hadn't had time to worry about the play. Nor had he a chance to rehearse his lines, so it was something of a shock to his system when he stepped onto the stage to find the theater empty save one chair in which sat a small, gray-eyed maetrie wearing a brocade jacket.

  "Greetings..."

  The words died in the miniature auditorium. Zayn found it hard not to stare at Prince Orráine, and fearing the gesture rude, shifted his gaze towards the empty balcony.

  "Greetings," he said again, using his performing voice. "It is I, Percieus the Sage, who has come to tell you a tale that may serve as a parable to some, or a warning to others. While in this lark, you will hear great deeds and thrilling escapades. You will also know the pain of conflict and the ache of loss.

  "For today I tell you the story of Kanedari the Young on his liebereisen, for he is a lad of uncommon strength and wit, on his quest to find what fate has in store for him."

  Zayn backed away from the center stage, and in a booming voice, declared, "Behold, Kanedari the Young comes forth."

  Keelan burst through the curtain to begin his argument with his mother.

  Zayn watched his cousin perform for the first few lines, expertly twitching as if he were being controlled by ropes. The dozens of performances had honed their acting, and they'd learned which lines brought applause or laughter. Getting that instant feedback, especially as their crowds grew each night, charged their performances. But now they were acting before an audience of one.

  While trying not to appear to stare, Zayn examined Prince Orráine from his place on the stage. If the older brother, Prince Aethalstar, was a paragon of physicality, then the younger was the opposite. The reason for the extra-small seats became apparent. Prince Orráine appeared the size of a human ten-year-old, even though Zayn knew he was much older. He held his arm against his side as if it pained him, and his mouth tilted to the side as if he'd eaten something horribly sour. And while other maetrie had smoky gray skin, it still contained the vibrancy of their energy and power. Prince Orráine's seemed sickly with a chalky pallor, and stringy thin hair hung loosely around his small face.

  The longer Zayn watched the prince, the more he was convinced that the performance was going terribly. Without an audience, everyone seemed to get swallowed by the empty room. Zayn was worried that the prince would get up and walk out, but that changed the moment Petri stepped onto the stage.

  In her misshapen body, she limped into view, and Prince Orráine sat up straight. As Kanedari interacted with the caterpillar-like faeila, the prince was enraptured. This change extended even when Petri wasn't on stage, as if the prince was waiting anxiously for her to reappear.

  Zayn exchanged his nerves for relief that they were going to get through the play without incident, giving them a chance to spirit Petri from the building. He had decided that at worst, Prince Orráine might want to speak to her before they left, delaying her slightly.

  All
this changed in the third act when the door to the auditorium burst open, and Prince Aethalstar ducked through with Captia and Precept behind him and then trailing behind them, the maetrie in the umber robes. The older royal said nothing, but Prince Orráine slumped into his chair as if he were melting.

  The imposing prince had an effect on the actors too. Both Keelan and Skylar flubbed their lines, which brought cutting laughter from Prince Aethalstar, and a return of the sour expression on Prince Orráine. The focal point of the room had changed from the stage to an area directly between the two brothers.

  With the jeweled scepter under his arm, Prince Aethalstar began to make comments, directing them towards his brother. The third act of the play seemed irrelevant, but they delivered their lines. When at last they finished with Keelan and Petri's characters marching away on the liebereisen, and then everyone returned to the stage to bow, Prince Aethalstar gave slow, sarcastic applause, while the younger prince glowered in his seat.

  "A thrilling performance," said Prince Aethalstar. "It was better than the time the jade witch stabbed me in the heart with a sharpened bone."

  Without turning his head, Prince Orráine said, "Kindly please leave, brother."

  The older snorted derisively. "Why? I thought the point of the play was to have some fun. You wanted a little fantasy of how your journey might go. I hope you enjoyed it, because that's the best it's going to get. The only good thing that's likely to come out of it is that I won't have to deal with such a worthless brother anymore."

  Still holding his arm against his side, Prince Orráine faced his brother and said, "Your arrogance will be the death of you someday."

  "If the queen wouldn't be angry with me, I would kill you myself." The prince's gaze flickered to the stage. "But maybe I can have some fun."

  Zayn's stomach tightened as Prince Aethalstar approached. A few gestures passed between the others.

  Flee?

  Fight?

  Zayn gestured back: Stay.

  They had no choice but to wait to see what was going to happen. Even if the six of them jumped him, Zayn knew they had no chance, given that Captia and Precept stood at the door.

  "Which one is your favorite, dear brother?" asked Prince Aethalstar, moving behind them with his hand over each, waiting for a reaction. When his hand hovered over Petri, resplendent in her multicolored butterfly wings, the slightest twitch formed at the corner of the young prince's eye.

  "I see that," said Prince Aethalstar. "More than a favorite. I think I detected anger. Do you dare to face me again, dear brother?"

  More gestures passed between them, but Zayn motioned for the others to hold. There was no way they could defeat even one maetrie, let alone five, including the prince and his two lieutenants.

  When Prince Aethalstar put a hand on Petri's shoulder, she shrugged it away.

  "Don't touch me," she said, her voice dripping with venom.

  A wave of distress passed through them. Zayn had to fight for his knees not to buckle, and though he couldn't see the prince's reaction, he heard his inhalation.

  "What do we have here? Brother, were you aware of what stood before your very eyes?" asked Prince Aethalstar.

  Petri flinched away when he tried to touch her again, spinning around and throwing out her hand as if she might fling him away, but the gesture did nothing. The prince stared back at her as if he were truly seeing her for the first time.

  "What fortune to find this underfoot, at a moment of great importance," said Prince Aethalstar. "I don't quite know what you are but I see the power in you. Power that I can use."

  He grabbed Petri by the throat. She fought back like a wildcat, swinging her arms and legs in reckless abandon. When Zayn moved towards her, the prince brought down his scepter and the five of them were slammed to their knees. Zayn struggled against the invisible force that held him in place, but it was like struggling against the earth itself. The others strained equally, but with similar results.

  "Do not presume to oppose me, especially in my house," said Prince Aethalstar.

  "Brother," came a weak voice from the audience. Then again, but stronger, "Brother."

  "Hush," said the older prince as he lifted Petri by the neck and examined her as if he were pricing a prized article of clothing.

  "Put her down," said Prince Orráine, his hands as fists at his side. "Stop hurting them."

  The corner of Prince Aethalstar's lips curled with amusement.

  "I'm feeling generous today, dear brother, so I will not hurt them. But her, I'm taking with me. This is too big of a prize for you."

  Prince Orráine marched towards his brother, though his limp made his anger almost absurd. When he climbed onto the stage, the older prince kicked him in the face, sending him sprawling onto the front seats. Before he could get up again, Captia and Precept took the young prince by the arms and led him stumbling from the room.

  "I told you not to oppose me," said Prince Aethalstar to his brother's back. "And you. Stop fighting me. You might think you're powerful, and maybe someday you will be, but for now, you're mine."

  Petri kicked out, barely skimming his leg.

  When she didn't stop no matter how hard he squeezed, the prince said, "If you don't stop fighting me, I'll kill one of your friends."

  Petri went still right away, her eyes wide with concern.

  "That's better." The prince nodded towards them. "I'm going to let go of your neck. If you do one thing wrong, I'll bash this one's head in."

  Keelan knelt closest to the prince and glared at him as much as his immobility would allow. Petri nodded once, and the prince released her neck.

  "Good. This will work out nicely. Ullar," said Prince Aethalstar to the maetrie in the umber robes who had brought them to the theater, "you're going to stay here and watch these pathetic fools. If one of them even makes a single wrong move, kill them all."

  Then the prince turned to Petri, lifting his jeweled scepter.

  "Do you know what this is?" he asked, lifting up the weapon.

  She shook her head.

  "It's a little tool I made to help me with people like you." He snapped off the bottom of the scepter, revealing a hidden compartment, from which he removed a diamond-studded chain. "Put this around your neck."

  She held the necklace, but made no move to put it on. Prince Aethalstar lifted his scepter over Keelan's head. Petri's lips squeezed to a point, but she placed the necklace around her neck. As soon as the clasp snapped together, her eyes lost focus.

  "Very good," he said. "Now come with me. You're going to be very useful in the festivities to come."

  Zayn watched in horror as Prince Aethalstar, with an obedient Petri in tow, marched from the room, leaving Ullar and two maetrie guards. As he realized the extent of his mistake, his body faded to an empty numbness. He'd brought Petri to the embassy, thinking they'd be able to hide her during the play, but he was wrong, and now the whole world was going to pay.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016

  The understudy revealed

  About five feet in front of Zayn, there was a little spot on the floor. A nick in the hardwood, possibly from them when they were putting up the runed ceiling, or maybe during the construction. While the umber-robed maetrie, Ullar, paced across the front of the stage, Zayn stared at the little spot and tried to think of nothing at all.

  It was comforting to let his mind go, to unfocus, to forget they'd ever come to the Diamond Court Embassy. It was comforting, but it wasn't right.

  He looked up when he felt Vin nudge him in the side. The big man stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. He knew that look in his eyes. Vin thought he'd given up.

  Zayn hadn't even though he sorely wanted to. Did he feel like every choice he'd made had turned to disaster? Yes. Did he want to strike out against the Diamond Court? Absolutely. The only problem was that he didn't know what it would accomplish.

  There was no way to get out of the embassy at this point, a
massive gemstone golem army lay waiting in the basement, and Prince Aethalstar had enslaved Petri—a fledgling goddess of death and destruction—to his will. The result of which would turn the prince's war into a global bloodbath.

  Even if they could take down Ullar, there was no way to get to the prince. Or stop his army. Or...

  Vin motioned again. What do we do?

  Thinking.

  Ullar cuffed him upside the head. "No moving."

  Behind the maetrie's back, the others gestured for them to attack. Zayn considered the request, but knew that Ullar could quickly call others.

  When the door opened, Zayn expected Captia or Precept, or maybe even Prince Aethalstar, but was surprised by the diminutive Prince Orráine.

  Zayn heard the derisive snort from Ullar as the young prince approached.

  Prince Orráine hooked his stringy hair out of his face as he looked up at Ullar, who towered over him, even when he wasn't on the stage.

  "I would like to speak to the actors," said Prince Orráine deferentially.

  "Your brother told me not to let anyone near them," said Ullar.

  "That is true, but that command doesn't apply to me," said Prince Orráine.

  Ullar wrinkled his face as if he'd smelled something awful. "Why do you want to speak to them?"

  The prince made a small gesture—a squeezing of his shoulder to his body. "I wish to speak to them about the craft of the play. After all, they were here upon my request."

  Ullar blinked as if he couldn't understand why a maetrie would want to converse with a human.

  "It is your choice, Prince Orráine," he said, then started to walk towards the stairs on the far side.

  "Help me up," said Prince Orráine, holding his hand out.

  Ullar gestured towards the stairs, but the prince shook his hand insistently, so the umber-robed maetrie reached out to pull the small prince onto the stage.

  As Prince Orráine clasped hands, allowing himself to be tugged upward until he was on the stage next to Ullar, he quickly produced a tiny blade in his other fist, stabbing it into the meat of Ullar's forearm as if he were squashing a bug. He didn't stick the knife deep into his flesh, but the effect was immediate.