Before Zayn could climb to his feet, the prince wrapped his fists around his golden dagger and brought it down with such force that it exploded the shield, went through Instructor Konig’s body, and ended up imbedded in the floor.
"No!" Zayn cried out.
He sucked in a breath. Held it. Instructor Konig lay sprawled awkwardly on his back, the corduroy jacket open wide. His eyes stared back at Zayn in a look of mute surprise. The golden hilt stuck from his chest, pierced right through his heart.
Zayn’s face went numb. A booming heartbeat thundered in his ears. He held his breath tightly, forcing it down. He couldn’t believe Instructor Konig was dead. He liked him. He’d reminded him of his father in his earnestness for teaching. Konig had wanted to be a hero, but had he wanted to die?
No.
Zayn's face burned with rage, but he couldn’t open his throat to let out that breath, as if as long as he held it Instructor Konig might come back. As if he might not be dead.
Then the prince looked up at Zayn, which turned his rage into a bonfire.
Zayn sucked in a huge breath and screamed, "Bastard!"
With the invisible fist no longer holding him, he flung himself at the prince, who looked momentarily stunned by the attack. But the prince reacted quickly, bringing up his fell magics, and a golden sphere formed between his hands, the same one he’d used to batter Instructor Konig into the dais.
But Zayn was not aiming at the prince. He went right past, headed straight towards Petri, ripping the chain from her neck as he went by.
This surprised Prince Aethalstar, but not Petri. As soon as she was released from her enslavement, she launched herself at Prince Aethalstar, and the impact from the two sent a shockwave that knocked everyone in the Grand Ballroom to the floor.
Zayn had little time to recover before Precept was on him like a cat on an injured mouse. Only his faez-imbued reflexes kept the maetrie from slicing his head off with a five-foot sword. Rather than engage Precept, Zayn leapt away, hoping to stall long enough that Petri might take down the prince.
His teammates had also wisely used the distraction to free themselves. But there was no way they could get past the forbidding, unless Prince Aethalstar had been dealt with.
On the dais, the prince and Petri were at the center of a war between a wall of inky darkness and a golden haze. Flashes of lightning spit from the edges of their battle, leaving the smell of burnt ozone in the air. The marble floor had cracked around their feet and bone dust fell from the vaulted ceiling.
A kernel of hope formed in Zayn’s chest. If Petri could find her strength, then maybe they would win.
He blasted Precept’s hands with a force bolt, trying to knock the sword from his hands, but he shrugged it off, forcing Zayn to dance under a head-hunting swipe. Zayn shifted his faez into his sensing imbuement to study Precept’s lithe limbs for where the blade would fly next, then when he knew where it would go, he shifted faez into his muscles, contorting out of the way.
When he glanced back to Petri, his hopes fell. The prince had broken the stalemate and was pressing Petri onto the marble, just like he had with Instructor Konig, threatening to crush her beneath her own shield of darkness.
Zayn tried to dodge past Precept, but the maetrie sensed his intention to help Petri, and blocked him with a swipe of his sword.
"I’ll kill you soon enough," snarled Precept.
Zayn felt their brief turnabout slipping away. While his teammates were keeping ahead of the numerous maetrie trying to capture them, they couldn’t avoid it forever.
Then the lighting in the room shifted greenish. Zayn worried that the smoke-eater gas had finally gotten to him, but he saw Precept noticing the change as well. Every hair on Zayn’s body rose to attention. He felt like he’d been dipped into a vat of static electricity.
When he saw a ghostly Katie step out of the bone wall, Zayn almost forgot to duck. Precept’s blade nicked his shoulder. Warm blood ran down his arm. Zayn peered at the cut through the split fabric, realizing that whatever protections he’d had from the ambrosia were gone.
A second blow never came because the lithe Precept froze as he stared in horror at the walls. From all around the room, other figures, some humanoid and some not, came rushing into the Grand Ballroom in an eerie ghostly green wave.
Individually, the ghosts of the Veil could not affect the real world easily, but in numbers they could be formidable. The denizens of the Veil rushed at Prince Aethalstar, forcing him to scramble away from Petri as he swatted at the incorporeal beings as if he were being attacked by insects.
At first, the prince was angered by what had happened, but he recovered quickly, knocking away the ghosts with fell magics. Then he pulled his scepter out, the real one, and Zayn knew what he was going to do next. He was going to summon the bone golem army, and it wouldn’t matter how many creatures from the Veil they had on their side.
Prince Aethalstar raised his scepter. For a second time, every hair on Zayn's body rose to attention. The back of his teeth hurt as a keen vibration emanated from the scepter. The spell to unleash the bone golem army rose to a crescendo, almost to completion.
Then Prince Aethalstar froze. The golden scepter inexplicably clattered to the floor. He jawed at the empty air, lips moving but no words coming out.
Zayn couldn’t figure out what had happened, until Prince Orráine stepped from behind his brother. His hands were empty, but he was staring at Prince Aethalstar’s back as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done.
With the older prince immobilized by poison, Petri approached him at a languid pace, gathering darkness around her. Her face was etched with anger. Tendrils of liquid shadow embraced the prince, wrapping him tightly until only the top of his head could be seen.
Then Petri tore open a fissure to the Veil and dragged him into it, and the creatures that had come to her rescue flooded back to their plane of existence. The portal closed with an audible pop, leaving those who remained in stunned stasis.
Chapter Forty-Two
Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016
The Prince is dead, long live the Prince
In a weak voice that barely carried across the dais, Prince Orráine said, "Stop fighting."
No one had been moving, but Zayn didn’t trust Precept, who had his sword at the ready, even though his expression had paled by what had happened to the older prince.
Prince Orráine cleared his throat and spoke in a louder voice, a stage voice. "Stop fighting. My brother is dead. His command belongs to me now."
"But we don’t know he’s dead," said Precept, though his gaze said he knew otherwise.
"He’ll wish he was, if he isn’t already," said Zayn.
The room looked like a bomb had gone off with so many bodies scattered across the floor, and for a moment, Zayn thought they might actually be dead, until a few stirred. Without Prince Aethalstar’s spell holding them, they were coming out of their trance.
Prince Orráine looked to Zayn. "What do I do now?"
This question brought a scowl of derision from Precept’s lips, but Zayn ignored him and answered.
"Will they remember what happened to them?" he asked.
"Only as the faintest memory," said Prince Orráine. "Smoke-eater gas is a powerful shaper of thought and memory."
"Then command your Court to act like nothing’s happened," said Zayn as he followed the prince’s eyes towards Instructor Konig’s body.
"I’m sorry," said Prince Orráine.
A lump formed in Zayn’s throat. "Me too."
Prince Orráine gave commands to Precept and Captia, who still looked stunned by what had happened, but they nodded and started directing the other maetrie to put things to order. No one had completely woken yet, but they looked ready.
"What do you want me to do with his body?" asked Prince Orráine.
A familiar voice from across the room said, "I’ll take care of it."
Priyanka, wearing what appeared to be clothes from the Diamond Co
urt, came striding into the room, flanked by Instructors Pennywhistle and Allgood.
"How did you get in?" asked Zayn as his teammates came running up.
"The forbidding is down and I’ll explain the rest later," said Priyanka, eyes watery as she looked at Instructor Konig’s body. "Oh, Matt, I’m so sorry. If I would have known, I wouldn’t have asked you."
"He saved my life," said Zayn. "Saved us all, really. Because he gave me a chance to free Petri so she could take out Prince Aethalstar."
Priyanka’s forehead wrinkled, but she put on her serious face. "It appears we have a lot to talk about. But for now, let’s help them make this look like nothing happened."
Instructor Allgood went straight to the dais, pulled a blanket from the inside of his duster, and gently wrapped it around Konig’s body. He lifted him easily, cradling him in his arms as if he were sleeping beneath the blanket.
Priyanka turned towards Prince Orráine, who was watching quietly. She gave him an exquisite bow that brought her head almost to the marble dais.
"Prince Orráine," said Priyanka, her expression returned to a courtly demeanor. "I’m pleased to see you’ve come out well in this."
Zayn thought he caught a little wide-eyed awe from the young prince, but he quickly put it behind a royal mask.
"I’m sorry my brother has caused such an incident," said Prince Orráine. "I’m sure my mother will not be pleased."
A flicker of thought passed across Priyanka’s face at mention of Queen Zaire. Both Zayn and Prince Orráine guessed the truth, though only the prince said it out loud.
"You were at the court," said Prince Orráine.
"I realized what your brother’s plan was too late," said Priyanka. "Luckily I have excellent students."
Priyanka put her hand on Zayn’s arm, but the moment ended quickly when they all realized that everyone was waking.
"May I?" asked Priyanka to the prince.
"Of course," said Prince Orráine with a nod.
Priyanka took charge of the cleanup, giving commands efficiently like a general. The maetrie, even Precept and Captia, took her orders as if they'd been reporting to her for decades. Instructor Pennywhistle applied illusions to the dais to hide the damage, while maetrie cleaned up the effects of the brief battle and removed the smoke-eater boxes from the room.
"What do I do now?" asked Prince Orráine.
Priyanka’s dark eyes glanced around the room. "Tell them your brother had an accident, but give no details. They came here for some excitement and intrigue, let them revel in that. And it would help bolster your image among the maetrie if the other courts thought you pulled off a coup d'état."
After a moment of thought, Prince Orráine nodded. "Thank you, Priyanka. And thank you, Zayn. I owe your guild a debt of gratitude."
They gave him their farewells.
Priyanka spoke to them. "Come, let us leave. The prince will have to rise to this opportunity." She glanced at Instructor Allgood’s burden. "And I think we’d all like some time to grieve."
Chapter Forty-Three
Diamond Court Embassy, May 2016
The best of teachers
The next week went by in a whirlwind. Priyanka gave them a few days’ reprieve from their classes after they held a funeral for Instructor Konig. But Zayn had other things he was working on, so he had to use his imbuement to avoid sleep.
When classes resumed—what little there was left of the school year—their obfusium lecture was first on the schedule. Everyone assumed one of the other instructors would teach the final few classes, so they were surprised to find Priyanka standing in the middle of the room when they arrived.
It was the first time they’d ever received direct instruction from their patron, not counting their mini-lessons while they were breaking into the Bastille, though everyone was a little too teary-eyed about Konig to get a lot out of the class. Mostly it felt like Priyanka had come to honor his memory.
After class was over, she asked Zayn to stay. His team had planned to have pancakes and bacon with strawberry syrup at a diner near their place. He promised them he’d catch up, and warned them not to get too full before he arrived.
"Why only me?" asked Zayn once everyone was gone.
"Because I’ve already talked to your teammates," said Priyanka. "You’ve been hard to track down."
"Oh."
Her eyes searched him. "I wanted to thank you. Well, there's more than me who wants to thank you—a few of the attendees woke up enough to figure out what had happened. Thankfully, Camille Cardwell took my advice not to print anything about what happened at the ball."
Zayn swallowed. Being in Priyanka's presence always intimidated him. He couldn't articulate to himself if it was because of what she had accomplished, or because she was entangled with the Lady of Varna.
"That's good, I guess."
"That's more than good," said Priyanka. "Like everything about this, it could have been much worse. But in the end, everything came out okay because of you and your team. I won't forget that. Camille won't either, so you've got that as a future favor if you need it."
"I was just doing what I thought you were trying to hint to us about," said Zayn. "You were trying to tell us to look into it, right?"
The corner of her mouth twitched. "I was. I'm glad it worked, because my attempt to influence Queen Zaire failed. We paid a heavy price, but nothing compared to what would have happened if the prince had succeeded."
"How do you do that?" asked Zayn, thinking about his own dilemma with Varna. "How do you put people you care about in danger?"
Priyanka closed her eyes for a moment. "It isn't easy. We lost Matt, and Chen, and Elena this year. A heavy price. But I didn't create the danger, and I'm not the one that killed them, nor did I make the choice that put them in the way of that danger."
"Do you really believe that?" he asked, sensing an inner reluctance.
"No," she said, shaking her head. Priyanka brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen in her face. It was a tiny gesture that reminded him, despite her age and power, she was still a human being with wants and hurts. "In the daytime, I can tell myself those things and believe it. But at night, when I try to sleep, I see the faces of those we've lost over the years, and I blame myself for every single one."
"I'm sorry," said Zayn.
"That's the thing about this business," said Priyanka. "No one remembers all the bad events that you prevented. They only remember your failures or the people that you lost along the way."
Neither spoke for a few minutes, but it wasn't uncomfortable, more of a shared contemplation. To the rest of the hall, Priyanka was an enigma, but Zayn felt like he knew her, even if it wasn't the complete picture.
"Your teammates told me what happened this year. Every interesting detail," she said with an eyebrow raised.
"Petri?"
"Yes, I mean Petri. How did you come to be indebted to Amber DeCroix? Your teammates wouldn't tell me much about that," said Priyanka, crossing her arms.
Zayn told her the story about Katie and Amber, leaving no detail out.
"That was a foolish risk with Amber," said Priyanka, frowning. "I always knew she was something very interesting, and powerful, but I had no idea she was hiding a slumbering god of death in the city. But I guess it worked out."
"You've used her before," said Zayn.
Priyanka nodded. "She was a reliable source for certain divinations and magics. Always with a bent towards the dead. Have you spoken to Petri since the embassy?"
"No," said Zayn. "She hasn't been back to the house. She was finally realizing who she was during that day. I'm sure she's moved on."
"I wouldn't count on it," said Priyanka. "Not that I have any special knowledge, but I think you should pay a visit to Amber before you return to Varna for the summer."
"Speaking of Varna..."
"Don't," she said right away.
The soft edges to her expression had turned hard.
"I'm sorry, it's for the
best if we never speak about your hometown," she said.
"I should go then," said Zayn, feeling like the connection they'd shared had been severed. "You know, pancakes and bacon."
"Don't forget the strawberry syrup," she added wistfully.
Zayn left Priyanka standing in the middle of the auditorium. He looked back one last time before he went through the door. Priyanka stood exactly in the same spot that Instructor Konig stood when he delivered his lectures. She was staring at the floor, a pained smile on her lips, and as he stepped through the door, leaving Priyanka to her grief, he heard a quiet sob.
Chapter Forty-Four
Amber's Shop, May 2016
Long goodbyes
The bell on the door announced Zayn's entrance to Howling Madwoman Fortunes and Spells. He smirked at the bell as it rattled against the closed door. What a trivial little piece of metal at the entrance of a powerful woman's domain.
He was greeted by an almost empty store. The touristy trinkets and faux-aged spell books were no longer displayed. Zayn could see through the empty shelves like ribcages.
Unlike previous visits, Amber didn't surprise him from behind the counter. She was wandering in from the back, a clipboard in hand as she scribbled notes onto yellow paper. With her dark hair up in a high ponytail and her wealth of tattoos, she could almost be mistaken for an early-twenties retail worker at a Dead Dolls store.
"You're leaving," said Zayn.
Barely glancing up from her clipboard, Amber said, "How perceptive of you."
"What will you do now?" he asked.
She slipped the clipboard under her arm. Frowned. "Did you come here to check on me?"
He blinked. "Actually, yes. And I wanted to know if you'd heard from Petri. I was worried about her."
Amber put a hand to her forehead and sighed. "I'm sorry. I've been taking care of her for a long time, and now that my job is done until the next time she hibernates, I'm having to remember what it's like to have nothing to do."
"Going to sell the shop?"
She glanced around, sighing heavily. "No. I like this space. It was hard to come by. Plus, it would be hard to unravel the protections I've laid upon it so I can sell it. It's been a good little fortress against prying eyes. But it'll stay empty until I come back, someday."
The Veiled Diplomat Page 23