Agents of the Crown- The Complete Series

by Lindsay Buroker

  “What about the doctors on Zyndari Ghara’s list?” Zenia asked.

  Jev hesitated. They should still interview those people. Even though his hunch about the elves had led him to someone suspicious, it didn’t mean that elf had anything to do with their case. There were plenty of reasons a visiting elf might not want to talk to the king’s agents.

  “Why don’t you give the list to me?” Zenia looked toward the sky, which had grown almost fully dark. “My room is nearby. It’ll be easy for me to get an early start in the morning and interview them.”

  “You won’t be busy fasting and getting to know your new rock?” Jev nudged his horse closer to hers so he could hand her the list. If he did find Lornysh, he could envision their chat leading to them spending the next day hunting down the cloaked elf. If that happened, he would have to make sure to be back in time for Targyon’s reception.

  “I will,” she said, “but I’ll work in a few interviews. Besides—” her tone took on an odd note, “—the rock and I are already getting to know each other.”

  Rhi hopped off the back of Jev’s horse as he debated whether to find the note in Zenia’s voice distressing.

  “I’ll stay in the city, too, thanks,” Rhi said. “The last time I visited your castle, your father tried to beat me up.”

  “Didn’t you knock him on his ass in a fountain?”

  “I said he tried to beat me up, not that he was successful.”

  “Ah.” Jev touched Zenia’s arm.

  She wore a distant expression, as if she were getting to know the dragon tear at that very moment. It couldn’t communicate with her, could it? Jev had never heard of dragon tears being sentient or having the power to deliver visions the way that ivory artifact had.

  “Will you be all right?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes.” She nodded, her eyes focusing again, and she smiled at him. “Of course. Be careful out there. The Kor highways aren’t as safe as they used to be.”

  “I’ll definitely stay away from the mangrove swamps.” Jev thought about kissing her on the cheek, but with Rhi looking on, he did not. He didn’t want to inspire more comments about babies or suggestions for threesomes.

  He waved and headed off into the night, pondering why an elf might run from him.

  14

  Zenia took her borrowed horse into the stable to remove its gear, feed it, and give the animal a good rubdown. Previously, she hadn’t thought much of her rented room above a stable, but now it was convenient since she hadn’t wanted to ride all the way to the castle in the dark and then walk back down the hill to the room.

  “This is where you live now?” Rhi nudged a haystack with her toe and grinned. “Which stall is yours?”

  “I live up there.” Zenia pointed to narrow stairs and a trapdoor leading to the converted hayloft. Aside from the lack of indoor plumbing and somewhat fragrant neighbors, it wasn’t a bad place to stay. The privacy suited her, and she’d chosen it over the rooms the landlady rented inside the main house. There wasn’t any indoor plumbing in there either. It had been a farmhouse until the city expanded out to usurp it into its territory, and the owners hadn’t updated it much over the years.

  “Do I get the tour? And is there someplace to eat?” Rhi waved a grease-spotted brown paper sack. She’d picked up dinner from a vendor on one of the main boulevards on the way over here.

  Zenia was surprised Rhi hadn’t headed back to the temple yet. She ought to shoo her friend away, lest Rhi get in trouble for spending time with her, but Zenia couldn’t bring herself to do it. Facing that strange creature—guard monster?—in the elven yard had rattled her, but even more, her new dragon tear had her a little uneasy.

  Oh, it hadn’t done anything disturbing—indeed, in the short time she’d carried it, it had proven itself useful and surprisingly intuitive. It was more the hint of the great power it possessed that alarmed her. All she’d had to do so far was think that she wanted to know the thoughts of another or to protect herself from a foe, and the dragon tear had swiftly done what she wished and more. How much could it do? If it turned out to be truly powerful, was she capable of responsibly wielding that power?

  “Zenia.” Rhi snapped her fingers and waved her bag. “There’s water in your trough but no horses drinking.”

  Zenia blinked and looked at the troughs before realizing it was a metaphor. “I’m fine. Sorry. Yes, come upstairs. There’s a table and chairs as well as a bed.”

  “The luxury lifestyle, eh? Your last room didn’t have a table. Come to think of it, neither does mine. But monks are supposed to lead simple lives. We’re also not encouraged to write memoirs.”

  Zenia tried to decide if Rhi sounded disgruntled. She couldn’t remember her friend ever complaining about her chosen career.

  Zenia grabbed one of the lit lanterns and led the way up the narrow stairs. Rhi’s bo clunked the railing a few times as she followed. Zenia pushed open the trapdoor and used the lantern to light lamps around her rented space. Stacks of hay occupied one end behind a partial partition, but the other was homey enough with, as Rhi had pointed out, more furnishings than Zenia’s small room in the temple had claimed.

  Rhi sat at the table and delved into her bag while Zenia jogged down to the yard to fill her pitcher from the well between the stable and farmhouse. She returned to find Rhi chomping on lamb and rice wrapped in grape leaves, doing her best to keep the loose pieces from spilling out onto the table.

  “You were the one responsible for keeping the elven gate shut, huh?” Rhi pointed to Zenia’s chest. “Can I see your new gem?”

  Zenia poured cups of water for both of them, then pulled the thong over her head as she sat down. She was relieved when the dragon tear didn’t share a sensation of distaste or disapproval when she removed it. She half-expected some kind of reaction. After the elf had gotten away, she’d received a distinct feeling of disappointment from it. Whether it had been directed toward her or toward itself, she did not know.

  The sensations—feelings—that emanated from the gem might be more the reason for her unease than the power itself. She had the niggling suspicion the dragon tear was somehow sentient, and since she had never encountered that before or even heard of it, she worried she’d gotten a rare and special gem.

  The dragon tear pulsed twice on the table, as if responding to her thought. To her thought that it was special?

  Zenia touched her chin, more concerned than ever.

  “It’s beautiful.” Rhi bent down to peer at the carving. “A dragon? I’ve never heard of a dragon being carved on a dragon tear, though that does seem like a natural choice. What kinds of skills does it augment?”

  “So far, it’s allowed me to shield myself, convince an elf to answer my questions, and keep a gate locked against a brute of a monster.”

  Rhi’s forehead crinkled. She didn’t voice her thoughts about the randomness of that list, but she didn’t have to. Zenia had a feeling this dragon tear broke the mold in more ways than one. She didn’t get a sense that it allowed any particular profession or hobby to be enhanced but that it might be able to enhance anything one chose to do. Was that possible? It was contrary to everything she’d learned about dragon tears.

  Zenia would show it to Master Grindmor the next time she crossed paths with the dwarf. A master gem carver ought to know all about every possible dragon tear in the world.

  “Can I touch it?” Rhi lifted a finger toward the gem but paused.

  “It’s all right with me,” Zenia said.

  “Uh, is it all right with it?”

  Zenia hesitated. She’d never heard of a dragon tear rejecting anyone’s touch, and Targyon had handled this one before giving it to her. She didn’t think it would react negatively, but could she be sure? So far, it had proven itself… different.

  The tear pulsed one more time, its soft blue glow outlining the dragon carving. Neither of them was touching it, and Zenia found it disconcerting that it seemed to be reading her thoughts.

  “I�
�m not sure if that was a yes or not,” Rhi said.

  “Nor am I. I’d make sure you don’t have any of that green sauce on your fingers before touching it. It may not want to be smudged with food.”

  Rhi frowned, licked her finger, then experimentally tapped the dragon tear.

  “Not sure saliva is an improvement,” Zenia murmured.

  “My saliva is lovely.” When the gem didn’t react, Rhi let her finger come to rest on it.

  Nothing noticeable happened, and Zenia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “It’s a little warm, isn’t it?” Rhi rubbed the gem between her thumb and finger before laying it back down. “Like it’s full of energy.”

  “I believe it is.”

  “Huh.” Rhi picked up her food and returned to eating. “You sure you don’t want some?”

  “No, I might as well begin my fast now. Needing to solve this case is going to make a bit of a farce of the ceremony, but I’ll meditate tonight and do my best to obey the tradition in spirit.”

  The last time she’d bonded with a dragon tear, she’d had other mages to guide her through it. This time, she had nobody. She hoped it wasn’t possible to mess up. Most of what she remembered from the last time was lying on a mat and trying to empty her mind of thoughts until she could sense the faint vibrations of the dragon tear on her chest.

  “I hate fasts,” Rhi said. “Senior Monk Garseth is always wanting to lead us on them to spiritually cleanse ourselves. I can be spiritually clean while I’m enjoying three meals plus desserts a day.”

  “You monks fast often. You should be well-practiced.”

  “I’m well-practiced at many things. But thunking villains over the head is the only thing I truly enjoy.” Rhi grimaced around her full mouth. “Maybe thunking the occasional snotty colleague.”

  “I hope you’re not referring to me.”

  “You have your snotty moments but not usually with me. You know who I’m referring to.” Rhi pulled the wrapper back up over her roll and set the remains on the table.

  “If it’s not working out with Marlyna, maybe you could request being transferred to someone else.”

  “I already did. Garseth said to at least work with her for a year since there aren’t any other monks available to go out with her now. Which was a lie, or at least a partial truth. There are a couple of instructors who aren’t assigned to an inquisitor and could be. Probably should be. Teaching doesn’t take that much time, and it’s not like inquisitors go out on assignments every day.”

  “A year isn’t so long.”

  “It’s forever with bad company. I’m thinking of quitting.”

  Zenia gaped. “Quitting being a monk? Working for the temple? You’ve been there for, what, fifteen years?”

  “Almost, yes.”

  “You’d just give that up? Your entire career? Over one sour-faced colleague?”

  “More than her face is sour, and she’s more of an employer than a colleague. At least she thinks so with the way she completely zyndars over me.”

  Zenia rubbed the back of her neck, having no idea what to say.

  “You changed your career after twenty years.” Rhi gazed at her, her usual sarcasm turning into something akin to reverence.

  The unfamiliar expression startled Zenia. “Not by choice. You know that. Sazshen kicked me out.”

  “Yes, but you’ve got an even better job now.”

  Zenia leaned back in her chair, the hard wood pressing against her spine. “You think so? It’s an honor to work for the king, of course, but I’m not—it doesn’t come with…” She groped for a way to say she missed her fame and the fact that everyone had known at a glance what and who she was, thanks to the telltale blue robe. Now… Few people were aware that the king had special agents. But to complain about losing her notoriety seemed petty. “I haven’t even solved a case yet,” she said instead. “I don’t know if the job will be permanent. If the king was expecting Jev and me to find his cousins’ killer or killers swiftly, I’m afraid we’re disappointing him.” No, she was afraid she was disappointing him. Jev and Targyon were old army buddies. As the junior officer, Targyon must have respected him and depended on him out there. She suspected it would take a lot for Jev to disappoint him.

  “I highly doubt that’s true. You don’t give a dragon tear to someone who’s disappointing you.”

  “He lent it to me. To use in his service. Just as the archmage once lent me the dragon tear I used in the temple’s service. If I screw up enough, he’ll take it back.”

  “Screw up? Zenia, this doesn’t sound like you. You’ve always been so confident and even cocky for as long as I worked with you. You always believed in yourself.”

  Zenia spread a hand toward the dragon tear, not knowing how to express or justify the doubts she’d experienced since starting this job. First, it had been because she hadn’t had a dragon tear. Now, she had one, but it was a strange one, and she wasn’t confident in her ability as a mage to use it. She also felt daunted working in the castle, in an unfamiliar office among agents whose names she barely knew. She didn’t know the full requirements of her job since she’d never been briefed by her predecessor, a man who’d wanted to hit her the only time they had met. To add insult, she couldn’t find the blasted handbook that might have enlightened her.

  “It’s just different,” she said. “I was confident as an inquisitor because I’d been doing the same thing for ten years on my own and five years before that as an apprentice.”

  “You’ll get used to everything. It’s not like it’s a whole new trade, really. You’re just working for a different boss and operating out of a different location.”

  A neigh came from one of the horses below.

  Rhi smirked. “And living in a different place.”

  “True.”

  Rhi’s smirk faded, and she looked earnestly at Zenia, making Zenia take a moment to consider the words. It truly was a similar job, wasn’t it? She’d hunted down criminals before, using clues to find them, and then sought out evidence or a confession to condemn them. Why was she finding this new mission so different? Because Targyon’s life might be at stake? Because she had to prove herself to someone new?

  “You may be right,” Zenia allowed.

  “Of course I am. Monks are wise.”

  “Would a wise monk consider a career change over one snotty colleague?”

  Rhi sighed deeply. “I could survive her, I think, if nothing else was different, but when Sazshen kicked you out and railed over losing something that never belonged to the temple in the first place, it got me thinking. About leaving. It’s not the first time. I’ve occasionally thought that I’d like to marry and have children one day before my mostly celibate ovaries wither up and die from boredom.”

  “I don’t think that can happen.” Zenia, certain Rhi wasn’t all that celibate now, wondered just how much sex she wanted to have.

  “Who can know? But seriously, especially now that I’m teamed up with Marlyna, I can’t help but sometimes feel… that we’re not the heroes. The valiant storybook orphans following the Zyndar Code of Honor and saving people’s lives until they’re noticed by the king and made zyndar—or zyndari—themselves.”

  “You aspire to be made zyndari?” Zenia hadn’t heard of that happening to anyone in her lifetime. Most of, if not all of, the land out there was carved up between the king and the existing zyndar families. She didn’t know if there was room for more zyndar even if someone did noble enough deeds to come to the king’s attention and earn his good favor.

  “No. I don’t know—I wouldn’t reject it, I suppose—but I do aspire to be a hero, damn it. Not some bitchy inquisitor’s henchman.”

  Another neigh came from below, followed by a whinny. Maybe the horses were listening to the conversation and adding their agreement.

  “What would you do if you quit?” Zenia asked.

  “Work for the watch, I guess. They’re always happy to hire someone with a mon
k’s training. Oddo joined up with them last year, remember? They promoted him straight to sergeant.”

  “I remember.” A hint of smoke reached Zenia’s nose and she glanced around, making sure none of the lamps were sending black clouds into the air.

  “I know the watch has its politics, too, and there are probably some people being paid off by the criminal guilds, but at least their goal is first and foremost to defend the people of the city from danger. They’re not defending a religion or some vague ideal that the Blue Dragon founder may or may not have espoused when he lived tens of millennia ago.”

  “You certainly have my support if you want to join the watch—maybe they wouldn’t throw a fit if you were friends with me.”

  “Don’t be too sure.” Rhi smirked. “I know plenty of detectives who always hated how you showed them up.”

  Unfortunately, Zenia had shown up a lot of people in her life. If she was to have a chance at making a few more friends—true friends—going forward, she might have to work on being humbler. She thought of the earnest young Lunis Drem and decided to invite the woman out to lunch once the case had been solved.

  “I’m glad I have your support though,” Rhi said more soberly. “I don’t think it was until you left that I realized… your opinion means something to me.”

  “Until I left or until you got stuck working for someone odious?”

  Rhi laughed shortly. “Yes, both.”

  She wrinkled her nose and glanced toward the closest lamp.

  Zenia decided to check downstairs and make sure a lantern hadn’t tipped over. It was probably just that the wind was blowing the hearth smoke from the house toward the loft, but it would only take a moment to make sure.

  She patted Rhi’s arm before standing. “Think about it for a while before you do anything you might regret later. There’s nothing wrong with the watch, but you may find that you miss—” she waved at Rhi’s blue gi, “—being a monk working for one of the temples—and the degree of prestige that comes with that. The average subject knows how much training monks get, and they’re quick to step out of the way and respect the uniform.”