“Excellent. Thank you.” Targyon picked up the dragon tear—it was truly magnificent—and laid it in Zenia’s palm.
A warm zing of energy emanated from it, seeming to shoot all the way through her body, and she gasped, almost dropping it. The gem flared with blue light.
“Zenia?” Jev stepped forward, touching her arm. “Are you all right?”
Zenia didn’t know. She stared down at the gem, wondering if this signaled acceptance or rejection. With her first dragon tear, it had been cool and unresponsive when she first touched it. She’d had to, under the guidance of an experienced mage, learn to coax power out of it.
It didn’t look like coaxing would be required here.
“I think so,” she whispered as the energy slowly abated. It did not disappear all the way. A slight feeling of warmth lingered, along with something less describable. Vitality? She suddenly seemed to have more energy, and the desire to go run a few laps around the castle filled her.
“Will it work?” Targyon was watching her face.
Gingerly, Zenia closed her fingers around the dragon tear. It did not object. If anything, she felt a sense of contentment from it. But that was silly. Rocks didn’t have feelings. Her old dragon tear hadn’t emanated anything like that.
“I think so.” Realizing she was repeating herself, Zenia nodded firmly. “Yes. Thank you, Sire. I’ll do my best to use it to keep the kingdom safe.”
“I know you will.” Targyon returned her nod and placed the other dragon tears back in the box. He paused, holding the last one as he turned toward Jev, raising his eyebrows.
“My mother tested Vastiun and me when we were boys to see if either of us had an affinity for magic. We didn’t. I’m honored, though, that you picked a dagger. You must think I’m a better fighter than I think I am. Or maybe you think I could become a better fighter with magic?”
“It’s just what I have. Most of them are for warriors. I don’t think any of these would lend themselves to linguists.”
“What kind of carving would lend itself to a linguist?” Jev asked.
“I saw a dragon tear with lips cut into it once,” Zenia said. “Technically, I believe the owner was a professional singer, but lips should work for someone learning or using languages too.”
“I’m not wearing lips around my neck,” Jev said. “I don’t care if it would allow me to finally pronounce all those elven wines and names for species of trees.”
“A moot point since I have no lips.” Targyon closed the lid of the box. “Though we could get you one with a more applicable carving if you were interested. From what I’ve read, almost anyone can develop the ability to use dragon tears if they’re willing to work at it. Some are naturals, yes, but…”
“You don’t have one, Sire,” Jev pointed out.
“No, I never wanted one. It always seemed a bit like cheating, or it would have if I’d used it for my professional goals.” His tone turned dry again. “Of finishing the advanced science courses and becoming a professor.” He sighed. “Do you think I could still pursue that?”
“The classes? Yes. Giving up kinging to become a lowly university professor? I doubt that’s allowed.”
“Damn.” Shaking his head, Targyon returned the box to the vault and locked the door again. “I had hopes of being a highly professor, by the way. Not a lowly one.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Sire.”
“I told you I was studying science, not language.”
Zenia was only vaguely aware of their banter as she attempted to examine her new dragon tear with her thoughts, establishing a mental connection with it the way she had with her old one. It continued to glow softly, the blue light leaking out of her fist. She hoped it would grow quiescent eventually. She’d slept with her old one on its chain around her neck, but she imagined the glow being obnoxious if she was trying to doze off.
Something akin to a haughty sniff entered her mind. Once again, she almost dropped the dragon tear. That hadn’t come from the gem… had it? No, her imagination had to be playing tricks on her.
“I’ll let you two go back to your work,” Targyon said. “I have another meeting. I must inform Zyndar Garlok that he’s being replaced as head of the Crown Agents.”
“He finally came back to work, eh?” Jev asked.
“Apparently, there was a death in the family, so he’s been out of town.”
“Was he here when the princes died?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe we’ll chat with him too,” Jev said.
“You’re welcome to.”
Jev headed for the door. Zenia withdrew her attention from her fist and curtsied to Targyon. This time, he was facing her and nodded gravely in return.
Jev waited for her at the door, and they walked out of the office together.
“I guess all this means we can’t have our date during the next three days,” Jev murmured as they passed through the secretary’s office.
“Why is that?” Zenia asked, though dating was the last thing on her mind.
“It wouldn’t be much of a picnic if you were fasting and mumbling to your new rock the whole time.”
“Mumbling isn’t required.”
Judging by the way Jev quirked an eyebrow toward her, he may have already heard a few unusual noises come from her lips. Gasps, surely. Not mumbles.
“But fasting is required?” he asked.
“Yes, but water is allowed.”
“Won’t it be romantic when I pour water into our wineglasses?”
“Are you suggesting I wouldn’t enjoy a date with you if I weren’t drunk?”
“You don’t need to be drunk. A slight inebriation should sufficiently bend you toward appreciating my charms.”
He held open the outer door so she could enter the hallway first.
Zenia stepped out, turned, and almost crashed into a scowling man in the green and silver uniform of one of the zyndar houses. Zyndar Garlok, she realized, guessing the former captain of the Crown Agents had arrived on time for his meeting.
“You,” he snarled at her, lifting a hand.
To strike?
A surge of alarm rushed through Zenia, and without thinking, she drew upon the dragon tear’s magic, intending to throw its power into a command of stop. Instead, energy crackled in the air around her, and she sensed it completely encompassing her body. Like a shield?
“And you,” Garlok growled, his gaze shifting to Jev as he stepped out beside Zenia.
Jev’s shoulder must have bumped the invisible shield of energy, because he wobbled and stepped away from her. A flash of surprise crossed his face, but he quickly focused on Garlok.
“Us,” he said agreeably toward the scowling zyndar, issuing one of his affable smiles that tended to make him look less intelligent than he was.
The stout zyndar glared at him, at both of them. “I leave for a few days and return to hear you two lickspittles have usurped my position? Don’t think I’ll stand for this. I’m going to see the king right now.”
“You do that,” Jev said. “I understand he’s waiting for you.”
Zenia stepped aside, willing whatever shield she’d created around herself to disappear. Even though Garlok’s fist was still clenched, he hadn’t drawn it back for a punch, and now that she’d had a moment to consider it, she doubted he would right outside the king’s office.
“I will.” Garlok shoved past them, making a point of knocking his shoulder against Jev.
It was a hard bump, but Jev saw him coming and braced himself. The older zyndar was taller and stouter, but Jev didn’t budge, and Garlok was the one to stumble slightly and adjust his gait. He launched a scowl over his shoulder and slammed the door after he strode inside.
“He’s as cordial as I remembered,” Jev said.
“Do you think we should add him to our list of inside suspects?” Zenia wished she had thought to ask him a few questions right there in the hallway, but she had better spend some quality time with the new dragon tear
before trying to read anyone’s mind. She needed to figure out what it could and couldn’t do.
Jev slowly poked a finger toward her. It reached her shoulder, and he withdrew it. “Huh. I could have sworn I bumped against… something.”
“You did. An energy shield. I was thinking of protecting myself, and I felt magical energy wrap around me.”
“Huh,” he repeated. “Did you expect it to do that?”
“No. I don’t know what to expect yet. But I did think it would take a few days before I grew attuned enough to the gem to draw on its power.”
“Three days, to be precise?”
“Yes. From what I’ve heard, you can make a connection more quickly than that, after a few hours of meditation, but that’s rare.” Zenia opened her hand. The dragon tear glowed contentedly on her palm.
“I guess the king gives good gifts.” Jev smiled. “I’m a little jealous. I should have thought to give you a dragon tear.”
“It’s not a gift. It’s a tool to be used in his service.”
“Which is probably why you accepted it from him and wouldn’t have from me.” His smile grew lopsided.
She opened her mouth to object but remembered how firmly she’d rejected the idea of accepting his hospitality when he’d offered her a room at Dharrow Castle.
“Shall we go visit the doctors on Zyndari Ghara’s list?” she asked, deciding to change the topic back to work.
“Eventually, yes, but I want to make a stop along the way. I want to visit the elven embassy in the city.”
“Any particular reason?”
Jev nodded slowly and thoughtfully. “Call it a hunch.”
13
Jev allowed Zenia to talk him into riding horses into the city instead of taking a steam carriage. Zenia, more intimately familiar with Korvann since she’d spent her whole life within its walls, said the elven embassy was in a very old part of town, one full of narrow, winding roads that were smaller than the alleys in the more modern areas. An un-carriage-friendly area.
As they rode out the gates of the castle, they spotted a figure in blue jogging up the road, a six-foot-long bo in hand. The stocky woman had a graceful, easy gait even though she had shoulders fit for logging.
“Isn’t that your friend?” Jev asked.
“Rhi.” Zenia frowned and nudged her horse into a trot. “I hope she’s not in trouble.”
Jev didn’t see anyone else on the road behind her, but that didn’t negate trouble.
Rhi slowed down as they approached and wiped sweat from her forehead. The late spring air had turned warm again in the aftermath of the previous day’s storm, humid with clouds playing chase with the sun in the late afternoon sky.
“What’s wrong, Rhi?” Zenia slid down from her saddle to face her friend.
“What makes you think anything is wrong? I enjoy a good jog in the afternoon heat.”
“If you’d jogged another hundred yards, the guards would have stopped you with pistols.”
“Dodging bullets puts pep in one’s step.”
“Or lead in one’s step,” Jev said, waiting in his saddle, not sure if the women would want privacy to talk.
Rhi grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed from her run. “Zyndar Dharrow. It’s good to see you. Have you and Zenia mated and made babies yet?”
Zenia made a choking noise.
Jev merely arched his eyebrows. “Were we supposed to?”
“I just assumed it was forthcoming from the way Zenia ogled your bare chest at the beach the other day.”
Zenia dropped her face into her hand.
“I don’t remember that,” Jev said. “I remember you beating me with your large stick.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Zyndar. It was a slight tap on the bottom of your foot.” Rhi dropped her smile and gripped Zenia’s arm. “I’m glad I ran into you here because I doubt the guards would have let me in. I need to tell you something.” She looked up and down the road. A carriage was making its way up from the city farther down the slope, but it wasn’t yet close enough to worry about eavesdroppers.
“Yes?” Zenia asked.
“I heard someone’s been saying that Archmage Sazshen put bounties out on the leaders of several criminal organizations. But she didn’t. I just heard her talking to Marlyna. Vehemently. She’s concerned the rumors will be enough to bring down the wrath of the guilds, and she’s sending Marlyna—and me—out tomorrow at dawn to the temple in Sun Falls. She wants them to send a few monks and inquisitors, as many as they can spare, to protect the temple in Korvann and help Sazshen figure out who started the rumors.”
“That’s interesting,” Zenia said. “One of my staff just reported those rumors to me. She didn’t mention who started them. Apparently, we have several spies in the city who share information with our agents.”
“Who reported it?” Jev asked.
“Lunis.”
Jev nodded, remembering how enthusiastically the young agent had reported on the criminal guilds the morning before. Her certainty that they were involved with the princes’ deaths made him doubt his hunch, but he’d learned over the years to trust his hunches. Besides, it wouldn’t take long to check on the elven embassy.
“I’ll let our agents know the rumor may be false.” Zenia sounded like she was being careful not to promise too much. “Thank you for letting us know. I don’t know if this ties into our case, but it could.”
“It could be something new too,” Rhi said. “Someone trying to get the Orders and the criminal guilds into a war with each other.”
“To detract attention from something else?” Zenia asked.
Rhi shrugged. “You’ll have to figure it out. You’re the brains. I just whack stuff with my bo.”
“Such as innocent zyndar feet?” Jev asked.
“I doubt your feet are that innocent.” Rhi considered their horses. “Where are you going now? Are you allowed to tell random passersby?”
Zenia looked up at Jev. Letting him decide?
Jev didn’t think it mattered if Rhi knew where they were going. By the time she could report the news to anyone, if she was so inclined, they would be done with the errand.
“The elven embassy,” he said, then on a whim added, “Want to come along?”
That would ensure she wouldn’t report back to the Water Order Temple until after they were done.
“With Zenia?” Rhi asked. “I’ve been forbidden to interact with her.”
Zenia didn’t point out the interaction they were currently engaged in.
“Come with me, then,” Jev said. “If you feel compelled, you can tell your superiors that we were the only ones interacting. No need for them to know Zenia was riding beside me.”
“Will this be lurid interacting? My superiors wouldn’t approve of that.”
“Because I was involved in the artifact incident or because you’re a celibate monk?” Jev kept his eyebrows from twitching. Barely.
“Both of those things, yes.”
Zenia swung back into her saddle. “It’ll be dark in a couple of hours. We better get going.”
Jev nudged his horse forward, setting a slow pace in case Rhi wanted to come with them.
She hesitated, then jogged to keep up. “I guess if you’re heading the same way I am, back into the city, then nobody can be irked if they see me with you.”
“Naturally not,” Jev said, then offered a hand in case she wanted to ride behind him.
She waved the offer away. “The city has eyes. We’d better not be too obvious about our interacting.”
Zenia’s lips pursed in concern, but she didn’t object to the company. By the time they reached the city gate, she and Rhi were trading their typical banter, making Jev glad he’d asked. He didn’t want to get Rhi kicked out of the temple, but he knew Zenia missed her friend.
Jev had never been to the part of the city that housed the elven embassy, but he spotted the tower from several blocks away. The ancient stones smothered in some broad-leafed vining plant appeared
to have been there as long as the city, maybe longer. It had been constructed during a time when Korvann had been less insular, and elves and dwarves had frequently passed through for trade or simply come to live and work.
He wondered how many elves lived within the stone walls now. Perhaps only those sent on diplomatic assignments. The tower rose about eight stories tall, but it was not wide, and he couldn’t imagine more than a room or two on each floor.
As he and Zenia turned onto a narrow road that circled the tower, Jev realized walls surrounded the structure, sectioning off a full city block. The place had definitely been built in a time when land hadn’t been so coveted. More vining plants covered almost every inch of the courtyard walls, several varieties with leaves that ranged from green to crimson red and purple.
Jev guided his horse toward a hitching post in front of a brick tavern that faced the tower. Dishes clinked inside, and people laughed over meals, not overly concerned about their elven neighbors.
“No guards at the gate?” Zenia asked, tying her horse next to Jev’s.
She waved toward an open wrought-iron gate, the bars having a fluid, natural design reminiscent of branches with leaves on them. It appeared to be the only entrance to the courtyard.
“I’m sure they’re there,” Jev said.
Rhi came out of the long, late-afternoon shadows to join them. The sweat that had gleamed on her forehead earlier had evaporated. The pace must have been less taxing than the one she’d set up to the castle.
“Will they let us in?” Zenia asked.
“Let’s find out.”
Jev led the way with Zenia and Rhi walking behind him. A plaque mounted on the wall next to the gate, the vines trimmed free of it, said something in Elvish. At first, Jev thought it might be an invitation to visitors or a warning to enemies, but it turned out to be the street address.
When Jev stepped through the open gate into what he decided to call a park instead of a courtyard, the hair on his arms rose.
Agents of the Crown- The Complete Series Page 41