Agents of the Crown- The Complete Series

by Lindsay Buroker

  I said I didn’t want to know, Zenia thought toward the dragon tear, attempting to shove the other woman’s memories out of her mind.

  A sense of apology came from the dragon tear. It seemed genuine, and she thought the gem might have misinterpreted her desire. Or maybe it had read something in her subconscious that conflicted with her conscious thoughts.

  Zenia frowned at herself.

  “Yes,” Naysha said to herself, giving no sign that she knew Zenia’s dragon tear had rooted around in her mind. “Better that I don’t see him, but I did wish to give him this. It’s far too late to make amends, I know, and it’s more about assuaging my guilt than anything else, I suppose, but—” She had been looking down at the gift, but now she lifted her gaze toward Zenia and Rhi. Her cheeks colored faintly. “Never mind. Nothing you need to worry about, but would you give this to him for me, Captain?”

  Rhi’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t say anything.

  Zenia hadn’t planned to go back into the castle, but she supposed she could go change her shoes in case she ran into anymore snobby zyndari on the way to the property office.

  “I can leave it on his desk.” Zenia accepted the gift.

  “Good. Thank you.” Naysha nodded, then hurried toward the gate, her pace oddly quick.

  Zenia didn’t want to spend too much time contemplating the woman or her motivations, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Naysha would leave her husband if Jev were to show an interest in renewing their romance. Naysha didn’t seem as happy in her life as maybe she thought she should be.

  What would Zenia do if that happened?

  Nothing, she told herself firmly. She and Jev were not a couple, nor could they ever be. Not unless he was willing to marry a commoner, and he hadn’t indicated he was. Of course, she hadn’t professed her love for him and asked him if he’d consider it…

  But she didn’t love him. It had only been a couple of weeks, and she barely knew him. Besides, even if she thought she did love him, she wouldn’t ask him to give up his lands and everything he’d been born to for her.

  “Can we open it?” Rhi peered over her shoulder.

  “Of course not.”

  “Can we shake it?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t tell me you aren’t dying to know what she’s giving him,” Rhi said. “And why she’s giving him things. Do you think she wants him back? Isn’t she married? Do you think she wants to have an affair?”

  “Whatever she wants is none of our business,” Zenia said firmly and headed back toward the castle, glad there was no sign of the three zyndari women.

  “Are you sure?” Rhi matched her pace.

  “Yes.”

  “Because for a while, it seemed like you’d like him to be your business.”

  “He’s zyndar and I’m not. There can’t ever be business between us.” Zenia looked at Rhi. “What are you doing out here?” She hadn’t seen Rhi in the office that morning.

  “That odious Garlok had me running errands all morning. Is he allowed to do that? Aren’t you and Jev my superiors, and that’s it? Anyway, he came into the office, so I scurried out. I heard you’d just left and thought you might be going somewhere exciting and where you would desperately need my help.”

  “After I set this on Jev’s desk and change my shoes, I’m going to see the kingdom property office clerk.”

  Rhi wrinkled her nose. “Any chance that’ll be more exciting than it sounds?”

  “I don’t think so. But you’re welcome to come along and help.” Zenia wouldn’t mind company to keep her mind from wandering down paths it shouldn’t take. Or dwell on Naysha’s all-too-vivid memories. Something about seeing Jev, even a young and different Jev, kissing another woman bothered her far more than she wanted to admit.

  As Jev rode toward the city gate, he spotted a familiar figure coming out of it, one that was also on horseback.

  “Good evening, Zyndar Dharrow,” Hydal said formally, glancing toward the stoic watchmen standing guard beside the gate.

  “Zyndar Hydal,” Jev said. He hadn’t seen Hydal since the morning at his castle and had started to wonder if his former officer would indeed come up to the Crown Agents office to be assigned work. “You weren’t, by chance, on your way up to Alderoth Castle, were you?”

  “I was, but perhaps I won’t go now. The weather looks like it’ll be inclement this afternoon.” Hydal pointed his chin toward a few dark clouds meandering down from the mountains.

  “Could be.” Jev nodded toward the gate, figuring Hydal wanted to be out of earshot of the watchmen before speaking openly. Did he have some scintillating gossip that hadn’t hit the streets yet?

  Once they left the watchmen behind to ride down the street, steam-wagon drivers and messengers on bicycles paying them no mind, Hydal spoke more freely.

  “I was coming up to see you, Jev. You’ve saved me time by coming to me.”

  “I aim to make people’s lives easier.”

  “It occurred to me that I would be a more effective secret agent—” Hydal’s lips quirked up as if the idea tickled him, “—if people didn’t have a reason to associate me with your job or your office.”

  “I had the same thought. Actually, Targyon did, and I agreed with it.”

  “Ah, good.”

  “Perhaps nobody would think it strange if a few old army buddies got together a couple of times a month for a game of chips or cards,” Jev suggested.

  “Indeed, indeed. We can get Tuoark or another neutral party to host them. I’m sure he’d be willing if we brought alcohol.”

  “The way to men’s hearts, as always.”

  “We ought to be able to round up a few other regulars we can trust to be discreet.”

  “I know Cutter would enjoy playing. Once we find him.” Feeling wistful, Jev looked at Hydal, wondering if his new secret agent might have heard anything about the missing dwarves. He doubted it, and it wasn’t the news Jev had suggested Hydal seek out, but he kept hoping helpful clues would fall in his lap.

  “If he comes, I’ll be sure to bring extra krons. And a friend with keen eyes. I’m positive that dwarf cheats.”

  “Oh, he does,” Jev said. “Nobody suspects him of anything nefarious since dwarves are supposed to be honest.”

  “I think it’s more the hook. You think he can’t do any sleight of hand with the chips using his hook, so you don’t pay much attention when the bag gets passed to him. You forget that he’s a gem carver and has deft hands. Hand.”

  “Quite true.” Jev turned his horse at an intersection.

  “Where are you headed?” Hydal asked.

  “The elven embassy.”

  “Ah, not far. I’ll get to the point then.” Hydal scratched his jaw as he casually looked around, ensuring nobody was nearby or paying too much attention to them.

  Jev nudged his horse closer to Hydal’s. “Fresh gossip?” he asked just loudly enough to be heard over their hoofbeats and the street noise.

  “Some new, some old. Zyndar with too much time on their hands continue to speculate that you’re pulling Targyon’s strings, though Targyon hasn’t stirred up any trouble in this last week, so I don’t think anyone is terribly worried at the moment. There is talk that his brother, Rolgon, at his wife’s suggestion, may be documenting some of Targyon’s choices in the hope of convincing the archmages to declare him unfit for the throne.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on them.” Jev knew Rolgon and his wife lived in the castle, Rolgon holding some minor position overseeing alcohol taxes and production in the kingdom. “I suppose our zyndar brethren wouldn’t have any news about foreign matters.” He was far more interested in enemies of the kingdom and kidnapped dwarves than the usual gossip around the throne and other zyndar right now.

  “Foreign matters?” Hydal lifted his eyebrows. “I’m not aware of anything, and I don’t believe I’ve heard mention of our neighbors in Drovak or Vilk. Should I be listening for such?”

  “No.” Jev decided not to mention
the talk of the orcs, trolls, and ogres. He trusted Hydal but wasn’t sure if he should make his new agent a confidant yet, especially since he’d brought Hydal on to keep an eye on domestic zyndar affairs.

  “There are also some zyndari women scheming to get your hand in marriage. That information comes via the mouths of their brothers and uncles, you understand. I was at a chips game, as it so happens, sampling fine cigars from Harbold’s estate.”

  “Scheming?”

  “Several people used the word. It seemed apt, so I appropriated it.”

  “How so? Like they’re going to approach my father?” Curse the founders’ scaled hides, Jev didn’t want to have to worry about this now. He hoped he didn’t need to worry about it. His father had given him through the summer to find someone appropriate.

  “Mm, not yet. Perhaps some other zyndari might, but the ones I heard about, sisters Hemia and Fremia Bludnor, believe there’s an obstacle.”

  “Sisters?” He had only a vague idea who those women were and didn’t think they were old enough to worry about marriage yet. Or were they? They hadn’t been when he’d left, but that had been longer ago than he cared to admit. “Wait, obstacle? What obstacle?”

  “An attractive co-worker of yours. There’s a rumor going around that you and she are mating like overly libidinous orcs.”

  “What?” Jev didn’t fall off his horse, but only because it was a placid mare with a broad, steady back. “Who’s been saying that?”

  Hydal eyed him curiously. “It’s true?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Ah. Your reaction surprised me.”

  “I’m just affronted on Ze—Captain Cham’s behalf.”

  “Not your own? You’re the one under scrutiny. Nobody would think anything of a common woman luring a zyndar man into her clutches.”

  “She’s not common. And she’s not luring anyone.” Jev almost missed the turn to take them the last half mile to the tower. Cursing, he guided his horse down a less busy street. “I mean, she’s technically of common blood—though her father is an asshole of a zyndar who didn’t acknowledge her or help her mother when she needed it—but she’s not a common individual. She’s unique. And she would never lure or use a zyndar. She doesn’t even like zyndar. She doesn’t dislike me, I mean, but she doesn’t care about my social status. I’ve convinced her I’m a charming and honorable man.”

  Jev realized he was babbling and clamped his mouth shut. It wasn’t as if Hydal was arguing with him. No, he was gazing extremely blandly at Jev.

  “Never mind.” Jev wanted to drop it, but if Hydal had brought this up, it had to have some significance. “What do you mean I’m under scrutiny?”

  First, he was being accused of planting himself in a position to manipulate Targyon, and now, someone believed… what? That he wouldn’t marry a zyndari woman because he was having a torrid love affair with Zenia? Even if he wouldn’t have minded the latter being true, he resented having so many people watching him and making assumptions. It hadn’t been like this when he’d been younger, had it? Or had he simply forgotten in the years he’d been away what the zyndar social circles were like?

  “Just that those two women are spreading rumors, and their brother believed they might take the rumors to your father. Or have their mother do it, casually mentioning to him that you’re sleeping with a com—a woman of common blood.”

  “You’re giving me a headache, Hydal.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “Jev.”

  “Sorry, Jev. Will it help if I let you win at our first chips game?”

  “Only if Cutter is there at my side cheating at the same time. I don’t suppose you’ve heard any news related to his kidnapping?”

  “I haven’t, I’m afraid. Honestly, none of the zyndar or zyndari care a whit about the missing dwarves. I think someone mentioned it was tedious that Grindmor is gone because she wants a new clasp made for her favorite piece of jewelry and everyone knows the dwarf master is the best craftsman—woman—in the city.”

  “Tedious, right. Do you ever get tired of—”

  A thunderous boom sounded in the distance, the cobblestones trembling under them. Jev’s placid mare squealed and sidestepped, her eyes bulging. Hydal’s horse reared up, almost throwing him. Up and down the street, other people’s mounts reacted similarly. Only the steam vehicles were unaffected, though the drivers all stared down the road behind Jev.

  He got his mare under control enough to turn her so he could peer in that direction. A great cloud of gray smoke rose into the air above the buildings.

  “I need to check on that,” Jev called over the complaints of Hydal’s horse. “Will you be all right?”

  Hydal finally coerced the horse into staying on all four hooves. “Yes. Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, secret agents don’t accompany their employers to public explosions.”

  “Understood, sir. Be careful. And don’t forget to introduce me to that lady friend of yours, eh?”

  “I’ll invite her to our chips game too,” Jev called over his shoulder as he urged his horse to race down the street. What had been hit? Some public building? A water tower? Was it sabotage from the very non-human enemies that they feared were targeting the kingdom? Some kind of preemptive attack? Or—Jev cursed as the memory of Iridium’s kegs of black powder came to mind—had one of the guilds struck a public target for some reason?

  As he made his way through the city toward the smoke, he passed people riding the other way.

  “What happened?” a watchman on foot yelled to the passersby. He was heading toward the smoke too.

  “The Water Order Temple was attacked,” a rider yelled back.

  Zenia’s old temple? Who would dare attack the domain of one of the religious Orders? Iridium? To what end?

  Then Jev remembered some rumors from several days before that he’d almost forgotten, suggestions that the Water Order archmage—Zenia’s former boss—had made threats about cleaning up the criminal guild infestations and putting bounties on the heads of the leaders. Could this be related?

  He rounded a whitewashed building, and the temple came into view, its white marble walls and columns still standing, at least in the front where a dragon fountain watched over it from its square. But the smoke came from the back, and as Jev rode closer, he spotted a crowd gathering at the rear corner of the structure. The collapsed rear corner. Several rooms must have been lost, and judging by the snaps and cracks still coming from the temple, the roof might soon fall in other places.

  Jev rode as close as he could and dismounted. The gray and white uniforms of watchmen and women were among the crowd, the law enforcers trying to keep people back. Monks and mages dressed in blue assisted, but most of them were frantically pushing aside rubble.

  Jev left his horse and pushed his way through the crowd. He didn’t know what help he could offer that the watchmen weren’t already giving, but his stomach churned at the memory of those kegs. Kegs he could have thrown into the river and ruined. Not that Iridium couldn’t have acquired more, but he had worried she meant to use them for some ill and hadn’t done anything about it. If people had been killed…

  “I’m Zyndar Dharrow,” Jev barked when watchmen tried to stop him. He pushed past them and lunged to the edge of the rubble.

  The busy monks and mages didn’t look at him. One mage stood with his fingers wrapped around a dragon tear and his other hand thrust out. A huge piece of marble floated out above the heads of his colleagues. They gave it a few nervous glances but continued with what they were doing. Digging someone out of the rubble.

  “Who’s under there?” Jev asked. “Do you need help?”

  “You’ve helped the Water Order enough,” a woman’s cool voice came from his side.

  He recognized the inquisitor who’d interrogated him, and fear struck him like a splash of icy water to the face. What was her name? Zenia had said it. Marlyna.

  Memories sprang into his mind of her standing out
side his cell and raking mental daggers through his brain. Of how ineffective he’d been at guarding his thoughts. Of how much it had hurt when he tried. She’d elicited pain he couldn’t fight off, pain so intense he hadn’t been able to keep from screaming.

  Jev straightened his spine and composed his face, not wanting her to know she’d had a lasting impact on him.

  Marlyna curled a lip, maybe poking into his mind right then, but soon turned her attention to the rubble. Two burly monks had succeeded in digging a robed woman out, and they were pulling her back to safety.

  Dust coated the woman’s robe and face, but Jev recognized her. His other tormentor and the person who had treated Zenia so poorly. Archmage Sazshen.

  “Was anyone else in there?” one of the mages asked as his comrade floated more rubble out of the building.

  The clanging of one of the Fire Order steam vehicles sounded in the distance. Nothing appeared to be burning, so they were making the trip for nothing.

  “I don’t sense anyone else under the rubble,” Inquisitor Marlyna said. “Those are the archmage’s quarters. Someone knew just where to strike.”

  “Who?” someone shouted. “Who knew where to strike?”

  “I didn’t see anyone,” a mage said.

  “Neither did I,” another said.

  Jev thought of Iridium and looked around for signs that those kegs had been used. It was possible someone else might have been responsible for the explosion. Maybe she’d had nothing to do with this.

  Archmage Sazshen groaned, her eyes squinted shut, her face twisted with pain.

  “Someone get a healer,” one of the mages ordered.

  Jev spotted a few slivers of wood in the rubble. Might they have come from those kegs? It would be impossible to prove unless someone had seen a known Fifth Dragon operative placing the explosives, but Jev’s gut told him the guild had been responsible. Ballsy of Iridium to order this attack during daylight. Why hadn’t she done it at night when the explosion would have been more likely to find the archmage asleep in bed, and it would have been easier to plant the kegs without being noticed? Maybe Iridium had worried Jev would tell the watch about her plans. Or maybe she had a spy in the temple, someone who could tell her when the archmage went to her quarters.