Shadow's End

by Thea Harrison

  Eventually the questions over the details of the investigation slowed, and that was when the conversation turned challenging.

  Graydon asked Carling, “You were a member of the Elder tribunal. What do you think of the case as we’ve presented it?”

  She lifted a shoulder in a liquidly graceful movement. “It’s much more solid than many cases the tribunal approves. But the outcome of acting on this one will also be much more costly than many other cases. I believe you’ll get approval for taking some kind of action, but what this current tribunal will commit to doing itself is something I’m no longer qualified to answer.”

  “Can you take a guess?” he asked.

  “At the very least, I would guess you’ll get Peacekeeper troops to back up any independent action you may be prepared to take. It’s not sufficient, but it may be all they offer, although how they could justify that in light of what transpired with Senator Jackson’s son and the current unrest in the human Congress, I don’t know. At most . . .” She shook her head and shrugged again. “Personally, I will be very interested to hear what Soren is going to offer.”

  Rune looked at Graydon. “I’ve been meaning to ask, what led you to investigate this?”

  Graydon had been expecting that very question. He said simply, “I received an anonymous tip.”

  “You’ve put in a significant investment in time and money over an anonymous tip,” Constantine observed. “Since you’ve been so careful to keep this separate from the Wyr demesne, I assume you’ve paid for the whole investigation out of your own pocket.”

  Bel’s gaze widened and flew to meet his. He could tell by her disturbed expression she hadn’t thought of that before.

  Small though her reaction had been, the room was full of smart, observant people, and her consternation did not go unnoted.

  Constantine’s attention fixed on Bel. He said, “I find the compilation of this group fascinating. For example, I know I’m only here because I pestered you until you didn’t have any other choice. How did everyone else end up here, and why?”

  At that, Rune spoke up. “Graydon came to us originally to have our agency handle the investigation. We put Luis and Claudia on the case, and we wanted to be part of the concluding consultation, which is why we’re here. Since we had some idea of what was going on, we brought in Khalil and Grace for their input.”

  With that, everyone focused on Julian, Melly and Bel.

  Melly said simply, “I’m here because Julian is. I had no idea any of this was going on.”

  “I’m not going to lie, Graydon knew I’d have a dog in this fight,” said Julian. “Earlier in the year, I helped block Malphas from harming someone in my demesne. Since then, he has nurtured a grudge. He helped to trap me when Justine kidnapped Melly.”

  Rune looked at Graydon. “Sounds like you can add another count of collusion to that list.”

  Julian nodded and continued. “I have every reason to believe he would act with malice again, if an opportunity presented itself.” He cupped Melly’s shoulders. “I won’t have him coming after me, or anyone else I care about. I want him dead, and I’m willing to help do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

  Carling turned to Beluviel. “And you, Bel? What brings you here?”

  Bel replied readily enough. “I am interested in the outcome of this conversation.”

  Julian shifted, an uncharacteristic sign of restlessness from a Vampyre. From his position by the window, Constantine’s eyes narrowed, and Graydon knew Bel wasn’t going to get away with that nonanswer.

  “Why is that, and how did you learn of it?” Carling pressed. “Has Malphas harmed you in some way?”

  Bel met Graydon’s gaze. She gave him a small, sober smile and said nothing.

  She was experienced at diplomacy. She could have replied in any number of ways to continue deflecting Carling’s questions, but as Bel had said earlier, silence can be its own answer.

  As everyone waited for her to respond, the natural pause in the conversation grew prolonged. On the couch, Grace shifted, looking unsettled. Both Rune and Constantine leaned forward, their predatory instincts engaged.

  “Graydon, you’ve spearheaded this whole thing,” Rune said, turning to him. “Why did you invite Bel?”

  Graydon returned Bel’s smile and said nothing.

  Remain steady. Hold the course.

  After all this time, don’t falter now.

  Constantine remarked, “It appears that either they can’t answer, or they won’t.” Telepathically, he asked Graydon, Is she here because of something that happened when we were in London?

  Graydon glanced at Constantine, but he didn’t answer.

  Daaaamn, Constantine whispered. Whatever it is, you and she have been carrying that around for a hell of a long time.

  Julian said, “Graydon, what you’ve told us is very detailed, but it’s quite clear you’re not giving us all the information. You want to kill Malphas, and you’ve presented an excellent case for doing so, but why do you want to kill him?”

  No answer.

  Rune had tensed. He asked, “Gray, are you able to fulfill your duties as First sentinel?”

  That was one of the right questions to ask. Without hesitation, Graydon said, “Absolutely, I can do the job.”

  “Truth,” Carling said. She put an arm around Rune’s shoulders, and he relaxed against her. “At least as far as I can tell.”

  “So you are not personally being controlled by Malphas,” Rune persisted.

  “No,” he replied. “I am not.”

  “That’s not quite true, though, is it?” said Constantine. “Your behavior right now is constricted by something.”

  For the first time, Grace spoke up, her quiet voice hesitant. “I see connections, you know.”

  The focus of the whole room snapped to her, and her demeanor turned self-conscious. Rune suggested, “Why don’t you explain what you mean by that?”

  “My Power as Oracle has become attuned to the Djinn, for a number of reasons,” she offered. “I’ve discovered a way to help injured Djinn heal, and I can see the connections they make, with each other and with other races. Most of the time, I don’t pay attention, but sometimes they become too obvious to ignore.”

  Graydon asked, “Can you remove connections?”

  At Grace’s side, Khalil’s eyebrows rose, and the expression in his diamondlike eyes grew piercing and fierce. “Connections are made when Djinn strike bargains. You did not just ask my Gracie to break Djinn law, did you?”

  “I didn’t ask her to break any laws,” said Graydon, keeping his reply mild and nonthreatening. “I just asked if she could. There’s a difference.”

  “I don’t know,” Grace told him. “I might be able to, but I couldn’t swear to it. I don’t think I could do it without alerting the Djinn who made the connection to begin with, so I guess it would be a pretty useless thing to try.”

  “It could be hugely important, if you could break the bond Malphas has put on the souls of his victims,” Graydon said. His mind raced to the possible implications. Planning an attack on Malphas would be much simpler if they could free Ferion first.

  The Oracle shook her head quickly, dampening his newfound hope. “That kind of bond sounds much more dangerous. I’d be afraid to try anything. For one thing, nobody knows how the victims would respond. If the bond is parasitical in nature, removing it the wrong way could kill them, and I’d be worried that anything I might try would alert Malphas.”

  Carling asked, “Could you identify someone who has one of those bonds?”

  Grace lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I guess, maybe?”

  “Why don’t you have a look at each one of us?” suggested Carling. “Tell us if you think anyone here has a lien on their soul.”

  Instantly, Khalil’s phy
sical form melted. He flowed over Grace, covering her body completely.

  Grace’s voice came from the shadowy cloak, sounding slightly distorted. “Now look what you made him do. Khalil, get off me.”

  “Gracie, there are dangerous people here,” Khalil said. “What if someone does carry a soul bond? You might trigger a violent response. While you may carry the Power of the Oracle, you are also quite human and fragile. And too precious to lose.”

  “Why did you ask her to check everyone?” Julian asked Carling, his eyes narrowed.

  “Just humor me,” Carling said. “Graydon and Bel aren’t answering certain questions, so some influence is at work on them. I’d like to know for sure the room is clear of that particular taint. Khalil, let Grace work.”

  “I am not preventing her from working,” Khalil said. “I am preventing anyone from harming her.”

  Grace’s sigh sounded clearly from within the cloak, and she looked around the room. After a few moments, she shook her head again. “I don’t sense any unusually strong connections, and that’s the only way I would know to look for it. Khalil, will you please get off me now?”

  Silently the Djinn flowed away from her body and solidified into a man again. He resumed his former position, arms crossed and unrepentant.

  Grace told Graydon, “The reason I mentioned it is because we were talking about whether or not Malphas was controlling you. Constantine said your behavior was constricted in some way, and I can see that you have a connection with a Djinn. Although that in itself isn’t unusual. Several of us have connections with Djinn. A couple of us have quite a few. I’ve accrued quite a few, myself—I’m now considered quite wealthy by Djinn standards, as a lot of them owe me favors.”

  Rune angled his face toward Graydon again. “Don’t tell me you made a bargain with a pariah Djinn. Did you? Is that restricting you from answering certain questions?”

  When Graydon didn’t reply, Rune swore under his breath.

  From his slouching position by the window, Constantine remarked, “You know, I’ve been racking my brains, trying to figure this puzzle out. What could it possibly be? You’ve presented us with several cases where Malphas clearly preys on gambling addicts, yet you can’t or won’t say how you got the information, or why you’re pursuing it.”

  Nearby, Bel shifted in her seat. It was another tiny tell that didn’t go unnoticed. Graydon swept the room with his gaze. Julian’s attention hadn’t shifted from Bel for quite some time. Both Claudia and Carling watched her too.

  Restlessly, Constantine pushed away from the wall, wagging one finger. “Wait a minute. Two hundred years ago, when we went to London—there was a gaming hell that Weston razed to the ground. I remember since it had been so notorious. The news was all over the city the next morning. It especially caught my attention because we had just been visiting with Weston at the Vauxhall masque. At the time, he had seemed perfectly relaxed. He hadn’t given any indication of what he was about to do. Of course, he always did have a hell of a game face.”

  Come on, Constantine, Graydon thought. Piece it together.

  Aloud, he said, “The case I’ve presented to you stands on its own merits. Anything else is speculating outside the boundary of this investigation.”

  “Did Malphas own that gaming hell?” Rune asked Graydon.

  Could he answer that? Ownership of Malfeasance had to be a matter of historical fact, but acknowledging Rune’s question with a direct answer might be too leading. It could trigger the bargain, and he and Bel had already skated such a fine line tonight.

  So far, he had essentially said just two things. The first was that he wanted to kill Malphas.

  The second thing he had said was: here are the facts of an investigation. It was entirely based on other people. None of it touched on Ferion, or stemmed from what had happened in Wembley.

  He glanced over at Bel. This time, she gave no hint of what she was thinking or feeling. She kept her gaze on her hands, folded in her lap. She held so still that to an outside observer, she might look like an exquisite Elven statue.

  Graydon had seen her many times throughout the years in movement. Normally, her beautiful face, and every gesture and word, were alive with expression. Now, her very stillness was as loud as a shout, for anyone who knew how to hear it.

  Carling studied Bel with a heavy-lidded glance. If there was anyone else present who might have the capacity to hear Bel’s silent language, it would be Carling.

  Constantine looked from him to Bel, and back to him again. Malphas. You. Beluviel. London. Weston. Gambling addicts. Gaming hell. It’s all connected somehow, isn’t it? How is it connected? I’ve never heard of Beluviel having a gambling problem. If she gambles, that has sure been one hell of a well-kept secret. Calondir’s dead, so he doesn’t matter anymore. Ferion, though—once upon a time I remember he had a wild streak, before he settled down.

  Graydon fought to keep his face stony, unrevealing.

  Suddenly Constantine breathed, “God damn. Goddammit. It’s Ferion, isn’t it? Malphas has a soul lien on the Elven High Lord.”

  And that, of course, broke the whole thing wide open.

  • • •

  Hearing one of the other sentinels utter the truth out loud sent a thrill of terror through Bel’s muscles. Inwardly panicking, she forced herself to remain immobile, while she ran through everything in her head.

  Had they played it carefully enough? She couldn’t feel Malphas’s presence, but at the moment, she couldn’t feel anything beyond her own chaotic emotions.

  When Carling squatted in front of her, she startled violently.

  She had a long acquaintance with Carling that spanned centuries. Over time, she had watched the other woman rise in political influence and magical Power, but always from a distance. They had been pleasant to each other at public gatherings, but they weren’t close.

  Now, Carling’s dark eyes were warm with concern. She put a slim brown hand over both of Bel’s and squeezed lightly.

  Carling asked in a gentle voice, “Bel, is your son under Malphas’s control?”

  Bel dropped her gaze to their hands.

  Don’t say a word. Don’t acknowledge the question. Don’t betray anything.

  Gods, let it be enough.

  Carling said, “She’s shaking like a leaf.”

  “Leave her.” Graydon’s voice sounded unexpectedly harsh, and close.

  Carling pulled back as he shouldered in front of Bel.

  “I’m all right,” Bel told him. “It’s okay. It’s . . .” At the last moment, she remembered to switch to telepathy. After so many years, it sounds incredibly dangerous to hear other people talking about this.

  That’s because it is dangerous, he replied. His dark gray eyes held so much understanding, the expression in them highlighted just how alone and isolated she had felt for so many years, despite being surrounded by loved ones.

  She gripped his hands as he knelt in front of her.

  There was something so poignant about the moment, surrounded as they were by a sharp, rapid conversation. They remained wrapped in silence, existing on the edge of other people’s reality yet entirely immersed in the gigantic landscape they had shared together.

  That, to a large extent, they had created together, a landscape filled with too many secrets, too-brief laughter, warmth, sensuality, and a quiet, enormous determination.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the concerned, wary glances that the others gave them. She didn’t care what they saw when they looked at her, but she couldn’t help wondering what they saw when they looked at Graydon.

  Did they only notice the big, kindly, somewhat rough man dressed in plain workman clothes? Did any of them recognize his large heart and true nobility?

  She whispered to him, “Please tell me the people in your life value you as much as you deserve.”

 
A look of vulnerability flashed across his face. Gently, he captured her hand again and pressed her knuckles against his lips.

  Behind his shoulder, Constantine came into her focus. He was watching them, looking worried, fascinated and surprisingly wistful.

  “Graydon and Beluviel,” Khalil said in such a strong voice, they turned to him. “No one will ask you any more questions you cannot answer. Do not acknowledge what I say next—just listen. We believe that Malphas has control over the Elven High Lord. And we believe that you must remain silent about that, because he has threatened to hurt Ferion in some way, or perhaps he has threatened to harm either or both of you.”

  “Graydon wouldn’t let the threat to him stop him from taking action, if he thought it was needed,” Rune said.

  “Acknowledged,” said the Djinn with an imperious tilt of his head. “Still, a threat in some form is present. Grace has determined you both have a single connection to a Djinn. I believe it stems from a bargain with Malphas. Otherwise, you would not need to be so circumspect in what you say—or don’t say. While some of this conjecture may be wrong, enough of it is true to guarantee one thing. Now my father will have no choice but to take the strongest measures possible.”

  Graydon blew out a breath. There it is, he said softly to her. There’s our war. The genie is out of the bottle now, and there’s nothing we can do to stuff it back in.

  You were leading to this all along, she said. That’s why you investigated so carefully, why you built such a comprehensive case, and it’s why you wanted to have a group meeting. You hoped the others would put things together and come to the right conclusions.

  More or less, he said. Ducking his head, he gave her a sidelong, wry glance. Frankly, I didn’t have things that well planned. For example, Con really did push his way into this—and he was the one who had all the right pieces. If I hadn’t been so focused on keeping this separate from the Wyr demesne, I would have seen that and included him sooner.

  How could he be so adorable and dangerous at the same time?

  Leaning forward, she put her arms around his neck. He leaned into her embrace and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight.