“Essence?”
“Yes, personality if you will. It doesn’t harm the animal or affect it in any way, as far as I know, but all of that particular creature’s quirks and eccentricities go into the gem.”
“Are you saying Zenia’s new dragon tear has the personality of a dragon?”
“In theory. I’d have to examine it to know. If it’s very old, it’s possible the magic has faded and the personality has gone dormant.”
Jev couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea of a dragon tear with a personality in it, but he thought of Zenia’s gem glowing blue, of its magic barricading that gate. Of the zap of energy he’d felt when he brushed up against the shield it had made around her in the castle.
“I don’t think anything has faded on it,” Jev said.
“Ah. Keep an eye on her then. If she suddenly got the urge to burn down the castle and munch on its inhabitants, she might now have the power to do so.”
“Munch on?” Jev gripped the edges of the table. “Is that likely?”
“I understand something like that happened in Drovak once to someone who thought it would be a good idea to have her cat’s likeness carved into her dragon tear. She committed several cannibalistic murders before being caught and hanged. A master carver was brought in to sand off the gem and re-carve it with something inanimate.”
“Shit, Cutter. You’re scaring me.”
“Sorry. Where’d Zenia get it?”
“Targyon gave it to her.”
“Hm, maybe she can give it back. Want me to come into town with you to look at it?”
“Founders, yes.” Jev stood up, almost knocking over the bench. He started toward the stable but remembered his original mission. “Do you know where Lornysh is?”
“Staying at the elven embassy, he said.”
“I was just there. They said he wasn’t there.”
“Ever? Or just at the moment? Because he said he got a room on the fourth floor. He also said it might be a challenge to get past embassy security—”
“No kidding.”
“—and that I should throw pebbles at his window when I needed his help.”
“At his fourth-floor window? Are you able to see it over that tall wall around the garden?” Jev considered Cutter’s four and a half feet in height dubiously.
“I can if I go up onto the roof of the tavern across the way.” Cutter winked. “Sometimes, it takes him a while to come out, so I have a drink while I’m waiting.”
“I wish I’d known that tip a few hours ago.” Jev wondered if the elf woman had lied—maybe Lornysh had been inside the tower the whole time they’d been dealing with “security.” He should have had Zenia ask that question with her gem.
Her gem. Horror rose in his throat like acid as he worried anew about Cutter’s warning.
“Let’s go find him. And Zenia.”
Jev dismounted in the street in front of a smoldering farmhouse just inside the city wall, the scent of smoke strong in the air. Cutter sat astride one of Dharrow Castle’s stout ponies, gripping his chin as he considered the dwelling in front of them. What remained of it. It hadn’t burned to the ground, but a fire had ravaged it. Recently.
“You sure this is the address she gave you?” Cutter asked.
“Yes.”
Feeling numb, Jev dropped the reins instead of worrying about tying up the horse. He walked through the open gate leading into the house and yard, dread walking with him. What if Zenia had been caught in this? Had this been some accident? Or deliberate arson? Maybe someone had meant for Zenia to be caught in it. Or…
Cutter’s warning stampeded around in Jev’s head. By the founders’ scaled hides, the dragon tear couldn’t have caused this, could it?
As disturbing as it was, he preferred the thought that someone else had been trying to get her and had done this. Or even better if it had been an accident.
Jev circled the house, then walked through it. Water dripped from holes in ceilings, and charred rugs squished under his feet. He couldn’t imagine how the house had grown so saturated.
“No bodies,” he whispered, checking all the rooms. “Hope that means everyone got out.”
He peered into the stable in the back, and a couple of horses neighed at him. Their structure hadn’t been burned, so the tenants must have decided to leave them there for the night. And then gone off to stay with family and friends? What family and friends did Zenia have that she would have stayed with? He didn’t think she would be allowed to return to the Water Order Temple.
Jev tried not to feel defeated as he returned to the street where Cutter waited.
“She’s not there, and I don’t know where she would have gone. I’ll see her at work in the morning and get the story.” Jev said the words with confidence, hoping they were true and praying to the founders that she wasn’t hurt and in a hospital somewhere. “Let’s find—”
“There you are.” A cloaked and hooded figure stepped out of the shadows of a nearby alley.
Jev reached for his pistol before he recognized the voice. “Lornysh?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been looking for you all day.”
Lornysh looked at the burned farmhouse. “You thought I would be here?”
“No, I thought Zenia would be here. How’d you find us?”
“I have my ways. Though I didn’t sense you until recently. Did you just arrive in the city? I know you were at the embassy earlier.”
Jev couldn’t tell from his tone if there was condemnation in the statement. As an elf himself, Lornysh might not appreciate that Jev had grappled with one of the guards and fired at the ambassador’s pet creature.
“Yes, I was trying to get in to see you. The guards said you weren’t there.”
“I left for a few hours to attend a museum opening.”
“That he has time for,” Cutter said, “but when he’s traipsing in sewers with me, he makes any excuse he can to leave.”
“Sewers?” Jev asked. “I’d make excuses to leave too.”
“I did help you all morning and all afternoon,” Lornysh told Cutter.
“I know, I know. I’m just grumpy.”
“Rare.”
“Don’t make me hop off my pony and club you.”
“Lornysh.” Jev held up a hand toward Cutter, hoping to forestall more threats. Or banter. Whatever those two considered that. “While we were there looking for you—and the ambassador—someone sprinted away. Very suspiciously. We tried to stop him, but the guards deliberately interfered. I heard one yell at him to get away while they kept us busy.”
“Oh?” Lornysh must have decided the odds of someone spotting him in the middle of the night on the empty street were slim because he pulled back his hood. “It’s odd that someone would have fled the tower. The embassy is considered a safe place where elves are permitted sanctuary in the city. The ambassador himself told me that when he invited me to stay.”
“Do you know who it might have been?”
“I do not. I believe there are seven or eight elves in temporary residence in addition to the ambassador and his small staff. I’ve passed a few elves on the stairs, but I haven’t been there long, and only one introduced herself.”
Another time, Jev might have asked if the herself had been interested in Lornysh, but all he said was, “We’re looking for a himself.”
Lornysh spread a hand. “For the most part, everyone except the ambassador has been ignoring me, as I’m… persona non grata is the term humans use, I believe.”
“Yes, perhaps one day, you’ll explain that to us.” Jev glanced to the side, but he didn’t think Cutter knew the story, either.
Cutter shook his head and shrugged.
“I hunted my own kind in your war,” Lornysh said. “The elves do not appreciate turncoats.” He lowered his voice, almost to a mumble. “Though I don’t know if that term technically applies.”
Jev leaned forward, hoping to hear more. As far as he’d discerned over the years, L
ornysh had been an outcast before he started working with the kingdom army. He never would have betrayed his own people if there hadn’t been a reason. Jev was certain of that. If not for some precipitating event, he and Lornysh never would have met. Or they would have met as enemies in the bloody forests of Taziira. Jev shuddered at the idea of having to fight his friend.
“You say you wanted to see the ambassador?” Lornysh asked, speaking no more on the subject of his past. “And that it wasn’t permitted?”
“I tried to knock on the door, but the female guard wouldn’t let me pass. I told her I was there on the king’s behalf. Which is true.”
“It’s possible the ambassador wasn’t in.”
“Was he enjoying the museum opening too?”
“I didn’t see him there, but he has admitted he enjoys studying the culture and arts of the people where he’s stationed. This is his fourth posting in a human city.”
“Great to know.” Jev huffed out an exasperated breath. It was late, he was tired, and he was worried. “I’m going to head to the castle to see if Zenia went there after—” He waved at the smoking farmhouse. “Lornysh, can you try to find that elf for me? Yilnesh was his name. Ask him why he ran? I doubt it has to do with our case, but I can’t help but wonder why he found my appearance so alarming.”
“It is somewhat frightful since you scythed off your beard like a farmer hacking at weeds,” Cutter said.
Jev touched his neatly trimmed beard and only spared Cutter a brief frown before focusing on Lornysh again.
“Can you describe him?” Lornysh asked.
“He wore a cloak and had a hood pulled up,” Jev said. “A look that’s trendy for elves in Korvann these days.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Lornysh murmured. “You’re sure it was a male elf?”
“Not one hundred percent, but the features I briefly saw appeared male. Why, did the female who spoke to you seem suspicious?”
“Different, at least. She introduced herself to me. Nobody else did.”
“Maybe she thinks you’re cute.”
Cutter made a noise akin to a cat hacking up a hairball.
“Cutter agrees that you’re cute,” Jev said.
“Someone’s going to get clubbed yet,” Cutter grumbled.
“Just let me know if you can figure out who fled from us, please,” Jev told Lornysh. “I’ll reward you with a bottle of fine elven wine from our cellar.”
“You don’t need to bribe me to get me to help. I’ve been helping Cutter, and he drags me around sewers without giving me anything at all.”
“I offered you half a sandwich,” Cutter said.
“After you dropped it in the sewer stream.”
“Not in the stream. It landed next to it, on the perfectly harmless cement.”
“Perfectly harmless cement covered with green algae and an odious-smelling fungal growth.”
“Natural things,” Cutter said. “I thought elves liked nature.”
Lornysh shook his head. “I’ll make some discreet inquiries and see if I can locate this person, Jev.”
Jev almost pointed out that the inquiries didn’t need to be discreet and that choking, punching, and threats would be acceptable. But he didn’t want to get Lornysh kicked out of the one place that had welcomed him. Sort of. He might not know his friend’s story, but that didn’t keep him from feeling it was sad that he’d been cast out of his homeland.
“Thank you. I’ll be at Alderoth Castle if you find out anything. Or I’ll be looking for Zenia if she doesn’t show up at the castle in the morning.” Jev reached for his horse but paused. “Cutter, do you want to come up there with me? I can get a couple of agents in the office to help Master Grindmor.”
“I want to help her.”
“Fine, they’ll help you help her.” Jev imagined consternation among his agents as he assigned them to take orders from a dwarf traveler. Maybe Cutter could earn their favor with sandwiches, preferably ones not dropped in algae.
Cutter’s unintelligible grumble might have been assent.
Jev mounted his horse to head off but paused again. “Lornysh, can you sense a powerful dragon tear nearby? Zenia has one now.”
Lornysh closed his eyes and tilted his head.
After a few long seconds, he said, “There are a handful of dragon tears within my range, but I have no way to know if one belongs to her since I’m not familiar with her new one. There aren’t any that I would consider powerful.” Lornysh looked toward Cutter.
“Got a feeling you’d know this one right away if you felt it,” Cutter said.
Lornysh appeared curious, but Jev didn’t want to go over it all again, not until he had Zenia in front of him and could warn her.
“None of the nearby ones are remarkable,” Lornysh said. “My range is only about a mile.”
“Thanks for looking.” Jev couldn’t help but feel disappointed, but Alderoth Castle was more than a mile away, so he held out hope that Zenia had gone up there. And that nothing had happened to her in the fire or along the way.
16
A month ago, if someone had told Zenia she would end up sleeping under a desk in an office, she would have laughed at the notion. She, the famous Water Order inquisitor, had climbed far too high in her career to ever suffer anything less than a comfortable bed and a private room.
At least it was a desk in the king’s castle. And she supposed she was behind it rather than under it. Also, she was only napping there, not sleeping. A mere resting of her eyelids. She would return to work soon. Or get ready to go interview those doctors.
After leaving the farmhouse, she’d come up here, planning to work, since she’d doubted she would sleep after the fire, and she had scribbled notes well into the night, but she had finally succumbed to weariness. It had occurred to her to wander off and find a staff person still awake, but at that late hour, she’d feared she would only find a few security guards wandering the halls. She couldn’t imagine them knowing where sleepover guests should be placed. So, she’d grabbed a couple of cloaks off the coatrack near the office door and spread them out to sleep on. One, she was fairly certain, was Jev’s, so it didn’t seem too presumptuous to borrow it.
A clunk sounded, and the door to the office opened.
Zenia almost lurched upright so she could scramble to her feet, but her cheeks heated with shame at the idea of being caught sleeping on the floor like a toddler. Or a homeless person. She stayed where she was, hoping it was just a roving security guard peeking in to make sure all was well. She’d checked a clock recently and knew it was still the hour before dawn. There wasn’t usually anyone in the office until after breakfast.
“You’re here earlier than I am, you old coot,” a man said. It sounded like Brokko, the old agent that liked to ogle Zenia’s chest. “What’s the occasion?”
“Just getting to work early,” another man replied, “to prove to that young pup up there that I’m still capable of leading this office.” That had to be Zyndar Garlok.
Zenia grimaced, hoping this didn’t mean the men planned to sit at their desks for the next three hours. The more time that passed before she announced herself, the harder it would be to explain her presence on the floor behind the desk she and Jev shared. It would already be hard to explain. Unfortunately, judging by the sound of their footsteps, the two men continued into the office.
“Young pup?” Brokko asked. “You mean our new king?”
“Our new king, yes.”
Zenia couldn’t tell if Garlok sounded found the choice of Targyon unacceptable. His tone had grown guarded.
“Have you met with him? Did he tell you, uh, some new people are leading the office now? Complete strangers. Nobody’s happy that Targyon didn’t promote from within.”
“There shouldn’t have been a reason to promote at all. If I hadn’t… Damn it, I know I failed with the princes, but who could have foreseen whatever that disease was?”
Zenia wrapped her fingers around her dragon tear, tempte
d to poke into Garlok's thoughts to see if he was feigning distress. Did he truly know nothing about the disease? Zenia hadn’t spoken to him enough to decide if he should be a suspect, but if anyone were to have the ability to slip in close to the princes and infect them, the captain of the Crown Agents would be that person. Garlok had probably reported to Prince Dazron every morning and seen the other princes often.
“The new captains think… Actually, I’m not sure what they think,” Brokko said. “Lunis and half the office believe one or more of the criminal guilds were responsible. I’m inclined to think Dazron and his brothers irked the Orders somehow and that they were responsible—they’re the ones who handpicked Targyon, after all. Always possible the elves could have had something to do with it, too, but you’d think they would have assassinated King Abdor if they were going to assassinate anyone.”
Zenia lowered her fingers from her dragon tear without attempting to read Garlok’s mind. She sensed right away something she had missed the day before. He wore a dragon tear of his own on a chain with his pocket watch. She didn’t know what talents it enhanced for him, but he might sense it if someone poked into his mind.
“The new captains.” Garlok issued a juicy growl—Zenia hoped he wasn’t planning to spit on the floor of their office. “Targyon’s lickspittles. I’m sure he put them in here because he trusts them, nothing more. Though why he’d trust some former inquisitor from the Water Order, I can’t guess. I bet Archmage Sazshen twisted the boy’s arm and forced him to take her. So she can spy on him and everything going on up here for the Order.”
Zenia stifled a snort. Garlok must not have heard any of the news coming out of the Water Order Temple lately. Unless he thought Zenia’s disgrace was all part of a ruse, meant to endear her to Targyon. As if Zenia would be so dishonest.
“I suppose that’s possible,” Brokko said. “Either that, or he wants some pretty ass to look at when he comes down to visit us. Dazron always spent a few extra minutes leaning against Lunis’s desk. Always surprised me she never took him up on his offers to follow him upstairs. Scruffy street urchin that she was as a kid, you’d think she would have been delighted to screw a prince. You think the new girl will screw Targyon? Or one of us? I hope she dresses in less clothing once summer is in full swing. She’s got great tits in there and an ass that any king would want to squeeze.”
Agents of the Crown- The Complete Series Page 45