The Veiled Diplomat

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  "What do you need from me?"

  "How good are you at combat?" asked Zayn.

  His wincing reaction told him the story.

  "Okay, then. What about distractions? No? What’s your specialty?" asked Zayn.

  "You’ve spent a year learning it," said Instructor Konig.

  "I see. Well, when the time comes, we’re going to attack Prince Aethalstar, to take his scepter so his brother can strike. In that moment, find a way to help. Anything you can do," said Zayn.

  "I will. I promise," said Instructor Konig.

  "Great," said Zayn, glancing around. "I need to keep moving."

  "Good luck," said Instructor Konig.

  After he walked away, Zayn said, "We’re going to need it."

  But when he looked around the room—at all the maetrie, the numbers of hostages, the complete control of the situation that Prince Aethalstar had—he knew that it was unlikely they were going to succeed. The odds were too much against them. He realized in that moment it was more important to get word to the outside world. He couldn’t physically get out of the embassy, but he knew someone that could visit him, even though the maetrie had put a forbidding on the building. Zayn slipped into a quiet corner and let the Veil overtake him like a prickly blanket until he saw the party through a shimmering haze, and then his mind exploded with pain.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016

  The Prince's Soliloquy

  The strength went out of his knees. Zayn slipped to the floor in a quivering heap with his hands around his ears. Blocking them did nothing for what he was hearing, since it was coming through the Veil, but he didn’t know anything else to do.

  It wasn’t a scream he was hearing. He wasn’t hearing anything at all, but it was the only way his mind could translate the waves of agony rolling from Petri. Stark fear radiated from her like a blistering fire, and Zayn had wandered too close.

  Zayn didn’t know what Prince Aethalstar was doing to her, but she was in pain and feeling alone and abandoned. He knew this because he could taste it as if her feelings had been imprinted on his soul.

  He couldn’t even muster the faez to climb out of the Veil, and even if he could, it would look strange if he suddenly appeared curled in a ball in a corner. But he didn’t know if he could endure it anymore. It was as if her soul was screaming.

  When it finally stopped, relief rushed in like cool waters, leaving Zayn gasping as if he’d finished a marathon and had a bucket of ice water thrown on him. He gently probed his own face, massaging the still clenched muscles. It was a miracle he hadn’t screamed.

  After a few minutes he was able to stand again. When he realized the relief he was feeling was Petri’s, he knew he couldn’t stay long in the Veil, especially with her so close. If something worse happened to her, it would break his mind.

  Zayn cupped his hands around his mouth, focusing his voice not into his world, but into the Veil.

  "Katie!"

  An older gentleman in a tuxedo who was walking by tilted his head for a moment as if he thought he’d heard something, but he kept going.

  Zayn repeated Katie’s name every minute, checking the crowd for signs of hearing him. When ten minutes had passed, he sensed a pressure against his back and turned to find Katie standing halfway out of the wall, her Mohawk falling into her face.

  "I like what you’ve done with your hair," said Zayn.

  Katie’s nostrils flared. "You’ve screwed up, Zayn. You put us all in danger. I don’t think you know how bad it is."

  "I thought you didn’t know who she was?" he asked.

  She lifted one shoulder. "I lied. Get over it."

  "I’m sorry, Katie."

  Her lips squeezed flat. "I thought I’d found a reprieve here, and all that’s going to change."

  His stomach twisted. Though he hadn’t caused her death, or made her stay in the Veil, he wanted the best for Katie.

  "Is there anything you can do? Or the others?" asked Zayn.

  "We have no power against her, or without her," said Katie, staring in the direction he assumed Petri was being held. "She’s already changing. That city elf is warping her. He’s going to mold her into a weapon."

  "I’m trying to stop him. I really am, but I need your help in case I can’t stop the prince here," he said.

  "It’ll be too late by then," said Katie, an anguished desperation staining her voice.

  "It’s never too late," said Zayn. "I just need you to carry a message to Instructor Allgood at the Academy. Tell him what’s happening here. Tell him that Prince Aethalstar has a bone golem army at his command, and a room full of hostages. That they need to mobilize the city against him. If I can’t stop him, then they’re going to have to do it in the city."

  Katie’s hand went to the bruise on her neck. "You know he’ll just enslave them, using her."

  "Please, Katie. Go tell him," said Zayn.

  She approached him and placed her cold hand against his chest. It was hard for the incorporeal to affect the living, though his being in the Veil made it much easier, but she pressed her hand against him hard enough to move him a step backwards.

  "Don’t fail."

  She faded from view, but the imprint of her hand felt like he’d spilled ice water on his chest.

  "I hope we don’t need her warning," said Zayn, moving behind a pillar to return to the real world.

  He was going to look for the others to tell them about Instructor Konig when an odd bass-sounding chime announced the beginning of the ceremony. Like a drawstring, the crowd pulled around the dais, leaving Zayn far to the outside. Prince Aethalstar climbed into view, his lieutenants standing obediently behind him, along with his diminutive brother. Prince Aethalstar had his scepter tucked under one arm like a riding crop and he had the air of a general about to address his troops.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," said Prince Aethalstar in a booming voice that echoed in the vaulted room. "Thank you for coming this evening, but I’m afraid I have some bad news for you all."

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Diamond Court, May 2016

  One monologue too many

  As soon as Prince Aethalstar pulled the scepter from under his arm and started waving it about, tracers of golden faez hung in the air. He mumbled a spell that even from a distance made Zayn’s teeth ache. He dove into the crowd, elbowing his way past the other well-dressed attendees as they watched, their faces wrinkling with confusion.

  No one moved a muscle as the prince worked his spell. It hadn’t yet taken effect, but the formal setting kept anyone from reacting.

  Zayn craned his neck in every direction, trying to spy his teammates as he approached the dais, but he couldn’t see them. Of course, Portia was shorter than most, so he wouldn’t see her. He just had to hope she was nearing the prince because Zayn knew he couldn’t take him alone.

  He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out the vial of ambrosia. The liquid went down his throat like warm honey, filling him with confidence. His skin tingled as the effects of the ambrosia spread from his spine to his fingertips.

  Captia and Precept, smoky gray expressions steadfast, stood guard on either side of the prince, while Prince Orráine stood towards the back of the dais, watching with a tight-lipped stare.

  When the spell finished, a shimmering wave passed through the crowd. Curiosity drained from their faces, replaced with the blank stare of a drugged-out addict. With their awareness stolen, Zayn slipped into the Veil, but their immobility made his motion more obvious. Despite being hidden, Zayn slowed to a tortoise pace, being careful not to jostle anyone.

  "Not one person tried to stop me," said Prince Aethalstar as he turned to his brother. "Proving my point that these humans were meant to be ruled."

  Looking to his left, Zayn spied a couple of maetrie in formal attire that were glancing around, confused. While they hadn’t been mesmerized by the prince, they hadn’t been let in on the plan either.

  "Now, my brethren
of the Diamond Court, you might be wondering what’s happening. I’ve decided that the city of Invictus, without its head patron, is ripe for conquest. Especially because that preening mage, before he got himself killed by his own students, liked to think that this place was more important than the Eternal City."

  As the prince was talking, Zayn caught a glimpse of Portia, who was also in the Veil, stepping through the crowd. There were only a few people in the way, but the final row stood shoulder to shoulder. He didn’t see an opening nearby, so he gently tugged on the gentleman in front of him, trying to create an opening. He had the man turned a few degrees before he saw Precept’s attention snap his way.

  Precept stared intently at the place where Zayn was standing, and by the expression on his face, it looked like he was slowly piecing together what had been happening.

  Right as Zayn prepared to run, Captia cried out, "Prince Aethalstar!"

  In the back of the room, near the bar service area, a billowing fog rolled forward. The cloud moved with a hungry purpose, pseudopods of white mist extending.

  "A smoke-eater is loose," said Precept.

  The two lieutenants surged forward to intercept the dangerous beast, but the prince seemed unmoved by its approach.

  Zayn knew the cloud to be an illusion from his cousin, since he was supposed to provide a distraction, so Zayn used it to slip past the first row. He caught a nod from Portia, and they accelerated together.

  When Zayn neared Prince Aethalstar, he lowered his shoulder and poured every ounce of faez he could into speed. Zayn hit the prince a moment after Portia, and though the prince hadn’t seen it coming, fell magics protected him from the worst of it and the rebound gave as much as it got.

  As Zayn went flying he felt the effects of the ambrosia kicking in, protecting him from the worst of it. But his hold on the Veil released, so he tumbled into view. Portia appeared going the other way, while the prince fell backwards, the scepter spinning into the air like a baton.

  Normally, such a blast might have knocked Zayn out, but the ambrosia had preserved his health, allowing him to kip up to his feet and sprint towards the falling scepter before Captia or Precept could react. Zayn couldn’t quite tell what either prince was doing—he was too busy trying to reach the scepter. He reached it right before it hit the marble dais, the weighty weapon straining even his faez-hardened muscles.

  He sprinted away with the intent of moving the magical focus as far away from Prince Aethalstar as possible, giving Prince Orráine a chance at killing his brother. He made it as far as the other side of the dais when he heard dry laughter.

  Chapter Forty

  Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016

  A test of friendship

  Laughing was not a good sign. Zayn slowed to a stop. Laughter meant he’d been fooled. He glanced to the right, expecting the stunned crowd to suddenly point at him, joining the prince in their laughter, as if the whole thing had been an elaborate joke.

  "Come now, Priyanka," said Prince Aethalstar. "Surely you can do better than this. My brother has made better illusions than that scepter."

  As Zayn turned to face the prince, the "scepter" in his hand turned to a crisp white bone, and what he saw on the dais wasn’t any better. Portia was being held by Captia, a wicked knife to her throat, while Ullar stood behind Prince Orráine, a wire around his neck and his hands bound. Ullar looked slightly ill from before, but in a good mood.

  "I know you’ve been sniffing around my door all year, hoping to figure out what I was planning. Reveal thyself," said Prince Aethalstar.

  Zayn looked down at himself, wondering how the prince could think that it was her, but Priyanka was a master of disguise. He decided it was better not to play into his assumptions as it would probably only get him killed.

  "I’m not Priyanka. She’s not here," said Zayn.

  The prince made a motion and a wave of magical energy passed through Zayn. The prince’s lips tightened with disappointment at the result of his spell.

  "Sadly, I believe you. I can’t imagine her being caught like this. I expected better. But no matter. Whoever you are, you’re going to die tonight."

  "Prince Aethalstar," said Captia, nodding towards the back of the room. "The smoke-eater."

  Zayn was surprised to see the illusion still present. He thought Keelan would have dismissed it as soon Zayn had been captured, but the prince snapped his fingers and the smoky cloud rapidly reversed its expansion until it disappeared into a strange box with vents on the top.

  "That’s a real smoke-eater," said Zayn.

  "How perceptive of you," said the prince dryly.

  The reason for it being in the room became clear to Zayn, and why they’d built the embassy using bone magic rather than human construction.

  "You used its psychotropic properties to pacify everyone. They’ve been standing around in it, slowly breathing it in and making themselves susceptible." Zayn paused, shaking his head. "That's what the witchwood boxes are for. You're keeping them inside, letting their natural gas vent into the room. And the building. A smoke-eater can’t exist outside of the Eternal City, so you brought the Eternal City here. No one would have defenses for it since it’s a creature, not a spell. And since maetrie have a natural resistance to the creatures, it didn’t affect you."

  Prince Aethalstar lifted his chin. "Impressive for a whelpling. It appears I should have vented one into the theater, but I didn’t expect that’s where my problems would appear."

  He waved his hand as simply as if he were calling for a waiter, and a giant invisible hand grabbed Zayn’s legs and pulled him towards the prince. At first, the surprise of it left him immobile. Then Zayn concentrated on his imbuement and battled the invisible hand, but the prince’s magic was too strong for Zayn.

  The prince stood a head taller than Zayn. The force of his personality threatened to overwhelm the protective trinket on Zayn’s wrist.

  "Kneel."

  A wave of compulsion crashed against Zayn. He wavered on his feet before shaking it off.

  The prince creased his eyes.

  "You’re resisting."

  Even though it felt like staring at the sun, Zayn held his ground. "Always."

  A motion from the prince brought Petri stumbling into the room, the golden chain around her neck. Her eyes held shadows. She looked like she was holding in a nuclear blast.

  "What’s his name?" asked the prince.

  "Zayn Carter," said Petri through gritted teeth.

  "I suppose I should thank you, Zayn Carter," said Prince Aethalstar. "When I resolved to take the city of sorcery, I knew it would be difficult once I left the safety of the embassy, no matter how large a golem army I could construct. I knew my natural compulsion wouldn’t be enough, and the smoke-eaters wouldn’t work outside of the embassy, but now you’ve given me a powerful tool. They will bow before me, make me a god. Petri, make Zayn Carter kneel for me."

  Her mouth twisted with pain. The word came out broken and charred as if it’d been through the furnace of her anguish.

  "Kneel."

  As soon as the words left her lips, his knees bent, retracting his legs towards the floor. He didn’t even feel a force like when the prince had grabbed him with an invisible hand. It just happened as if his legs were being operated by remote.

  "Much better," said the prince, pulling a golden knife from his belt. He held it to Petri. "Kill him."

  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She took one step forward before stopping.

  "No," she said, staring back at the prince.

  The corners of the prince’s lips curled towards the floor. "I have more work to do it seems."

  He snapped his fingers and Petri screamed. The wail coming from her lips was like standing in the way of a category five hurricane. He felt like he was being shredded with broken glass. It might have only been a few seconds, but it felt like it lasted for minutes or hours.

  When it was over, Zayn collapsed onto his hands and knees. He wiped the spit off
his chin and the tears from his eyes. He heard the sounds of vomiting from Portia. The psychic assault from Petri had been brutal.

  Zayn looked up at the rows of catatonic people. Their mouths were twisted with the memory of pain, even though their eyes were blank. Using Petri and his own natural powers, Prince Aethalstar could add them to his army. As Zayn looked across the crowd, he caught a glimpse of Instructor Konig standing in the front row. His eyes were unglazed.

  "Stand up, Zayn Carter," said the prince. "It’s time for you to die."

  Chapter Forty-One

  Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016

  Execution before a blind audience

  Zayn closed his eyes, feigning exhaustion. The prince was going to kill him and there was nothing he could do. Not even escaping into the Veil would help him now as the prince could command Petri to bring him back.

  Slowly, he climbed to his feet, catching glances from his teammates. Portia was nearest. She had tears in her eyes. The other three struggled, but the prince had them with his giant invisible fist.

  The prince lifted the dagger as if he were making a sacrifice. Zayn couldn’t help but watch its rise, hoping that his death would be quick. Out of the corner of his eye, he sensed movement, probably Captia coming closer to catch his body. He couldn’t believe this was the end. He’d thought he’d get a chance to finish school. If he were going to die, it’d be in Varna at the Lady’s hand, not at the hand of some warmongering maetrie from the Diamond Court.

  This is it, he thought. I hope I meant something.

  When the dagger was at its apex, Prince Aethalstar thrust it downward towards Zayn’s chest. He closed his eyes, expecting the cold blade to pierce his chest, releasing his last breath. But someone slammed into him, knocking him across the dais.

  Shocked, Zayn looked up to see Instructor Konig locked in a power struggle with the prince. The instructor had summoned a force shield and was using it to block the prince’s blows, but he was no match for the maetrie and was being slammed into the floor.