Real Magic

by Lissa Michaels

  Galen said goodbye and followed him.

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  Drake met Morgan’s gaze. “I don’t know. The Master Executioner wants to train me as his replacement.”

  Morgan didn’t look surprised.

  “I’ve got a grandmother here” —who was tearing herself up about the way his life turned out— “but I can’t stay.”

  “Because of Jelena. You love her, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “Enough to bond with her.”

  Morgan’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

  That damn fist tightened around his heart. Gods it hurt. Drake looked away. “My past was too much for her.”

  “You asked me once how I could even consider walking away from Ariana and our bond. Do you remember that?”

  He nodded. “Now I know.”

  “Gods, Drake, don’t give up. You have to believe that you can work things out.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “I can’t make any decisions until I’ve taken care of Threaden.”

  “Morgan, you ready?” Galen called.

  “Yeah.” He clasped Drake’s forearm. “You take care, and don’t rush into any decisions. You’ve got time.”

  Drake nodded. “Give that baby of yours a kiss for me.”

  “The baby?”

  “Yeah, she’s going to make an appearance tonight.”

  Morgan jerked, his eyes widening. “You sure?”

  “I’d put credits on it.”

  Morgan had learned years ago to trust him when he had one of those feelings. He slapped Drake on the arm, said goodbye, then hustled the group out of the glade faster than a slave driver loaded a prison barge. Tremaine looked over his shoulder one last time.

  Drake nodded then turned and strode through the gateway.

  ZANERA STROKED her fingers down Drake’s cheek, wishing she felt warm skin beneath her fingertips instead of cool glass. For days now, she’d been trying to plan a way to draw him into the open.

  For a short while, she thought she had him. An informant had intercepted a transmission that Drake had returned to Trakis but by the time it reached her, he’d already gone back into hiding. That mistake cost the informant his life.

  The only sure way to draw Drake out was to capture someone he cared about. The depth of his loyalty intrigued her, but it would be his downfall. A man in his powerful position shouldn’t have such a weakness—one she had every intention of exploiting.

  He’d come after her and, if he held the power of five as Cordan implied, she’d have to use all her stored power to defeat him. That would set her back months. Unacceptable. She needed bait, someone so important he’d hand himself over without a fight.

  She thought briefly about that annoying little green-skinned Theledonian. Drake seemed to have a soft spot for her, but she’d probably kill herself rather than be used against him.

  The crown prince of Bellariss was another choice. If not for him, Drake’s identity as the Magician would still be a secret. She’d bet that Drake would risk his life for his future king. But she’d have to get her hands on him. No easy task.

  Since his rescue from the Jotnar, the prince rarely left his home planet. She’d have to go there to get him. Her power wasn’t the same as the Nar’galira. It would take all she’d built thus far to get through Bellariss’ defense system, and then she’d have to find him. Too complicated. Too wasteful.

  Magic buzzed across her scalp, drawing a loud annoyed sigh. She didn’t want to deal with the little maggot now.

  “I’ll help you get the Magician.”

  Zanera swiveled her chair, pulling her gaze from Drake’s image, and faced her cousin. “What did you say?”

  “The Magician. I’ll help you get him.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  “Jelena will not give up her delusional ideas of wedding him unless he is gone for good.”

  Who’s delusional? Who in their right mind would actually want him over Drake? The man was an idiot. But, if he would help her finally get Drake under her control, she’d humor him. “Why would she think he’d wed her? He’s not the marrying kind.”

  “He must have contemplated it, she wears his betrothal pendant, but they argued and he set her aside. She refuses to believe that it is over between them.”

  Zanera clenched her fists, barely feeling the bite of her nails in her palms. “Did she drek him?”

  Cordan flinched and his face flooded with color. “Don’t be ridiculous. Jelena would never bed that half-breed bastard.”

  Her reaction was immediate. She raised her palm and flung a jolt of power at him, knocking him on his ass. “I think that’s about it for insults, don’t you?”

  Wheezing for breath, he held his chest and managed a nod.

  “Good.” He’d bought her a pendant. He had to feel something for her, even if he had come to his senses in time and ended it. Maybe this little Guardian was just the bait she needed. If Drake thought she was in trouble, he would rush to her aid—especially if he discovered that she’d been kidnapped because of him. He was so disgustingly loyal, he’d figure he owed it to her. And then he’ll be mine. “You’re going to bring you’re little avari to me, Cordan.”

  He jerked himself to his feet. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m quite serious. I need something that will draw Draek away from the Nar’galira city, and I think she’ll do nicely.”

  “No. I cannot let you harm her.”

  “I don’t need to hurt her, only have her in my possession. Bait to draw him here.”

  “But if I bring her to you, she’ll never forgive me, much less wed with me.”

  “She doesn’t have to know you’re involved. I can give you something to knock her out, something you can do from behind. After I have Drake under my control, you can rescue her. She’ll be grateful, and you’ll have him out of the way once and for all.”

  “Grateful?” Cordan stroked his chin, a slow smile forming on his lips. “Yes, grateful sounds quite nice, actually.”

  Zanera slouched in her chair and propped her long-heeled boots on the desktop. Her gaze strayed to Drake’s image. She smiled. Yes, you’re finally going to be mine again, and this time I have no intention of ever letting you go.

  “You promise you won’t harm her.”

  “Of course.” Until Drake was hers. Then the little whore would die. Nobody drekked her man and lived. Nobody.

  JELENA STARED at the large stone archway leading into the Executioner’s compound and her stomach clenched painfully. The gates were closed. She meant to arrive when the gates opened to the public, but sleep came so late last night that she’d overslept. Now, she’d have to summon the gate attendant to admit her.

  Had enough time passed for Drake to reconsider? She hoped so.

  A burgundy-robed Executioner appeared almost immediately. He looked her over, taking in her uniform, and asked, “How may I be of service, Guardian?”

  “I need to speak to Drake. Is he here?” Where else would he go? She had tried to see him earlier, to be sure he hadn’t left the city, but her vision spell hadn’t worked. He’d closed himself off from her, as he had from Enola.

  “A moment please.” He bowed his head and disappeared.

  Jelena paced in front of the gate, anxiously awaiting his return. “What is taking so long? All they have to do is open the gate and lead me to Drake. How difficult a task is that?”

  “Not very.”

  Startled, she whirled. The Master Executioner himself stood at the gate. “Master Kedar, I’m honored but you needn’t have come. I merely wished to speak with Drake.”

  The master nodded. “That is my understanding. However, Draken cannot attend you. He prepares for his assignment.”

  “So soon?” She straightened her spine. “I should be with him. He’ll need my help, my protection.”

  Master Kedar shook his head. “You will not be accompanying him. He has renounced Guardian protecti
on.”

  Jelena gasped. “Renounced?”

  “As an Executioner, it is his right.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I am sorry.” His expression said that he meant more than the loss of her nevash. He knew Drake had set her aside.

  Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back, refusing to break down now. A Nar’galira was made of sterner stuff than that. “Master Kedar, please, reinstate me. He’ll need my help with Zanera. He cannot face her alone.”

  “He is not alone. The others stand with him. They will make sure he comes to no harm. Even so, you may ease your mind with the knowledge that the Udaro woman is not his assignment.”

  The pent up tension in her body escaped with her sigh. Thank the gods. “Please, Master Kedar, I could be of use.”

  He shook his head. “Trust is a fragile thing. I will not destroy Draken’s trust in me by forcing him into your company before he is ready.”

  “Will he be ready?” She squeezed the bars of the gate tightly.

  “Time is one of the gods’ greatest gifts. It has the remarkable ability of sorting things out, allowing troubled minds to see more clearly and hearts to heal. Draken has suffered many shocks in the last few days with no time for adjustment in between.”

  Gods preserve, he had. She’d wondered how he could bear so much pain and suffering and still go on living. Now she knew. When he’d taken all he could stand, he withdrew, and somehow, his broken heart knitted itself back together. Forcing herself on him wouldn’t heal his pain, not when she was partly the cause of it.

  The master lifted her chin. “Give him the time he needs to heal.”

  “I love him, Master Kedar. Mind, body and soul, I love him, and I know he loves me, too. But he doesn’t trust me. I have to convince him that he can.”

  “Time is on your side.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded and disappeared.

  She turned from the gateway. Though she prayed he was right, his words didn’t bring her the comfort intended. Being held in Drake’s arms, that was the comfort she needed.

  Time is on your side.

  Maybe it was. His invoking Executioner rights and going off on assignments meant that he’d stay, for a while at least. He would be near. She had time to change his mind.

  They’d only been together twelve days, hardly more than a week, surely their future didn’t have to be decided today. Some lovers took years before finally deciding to wed. She had time.

  This certainly put a little snag in her plans. She hadn’t expected this. Perhaps she should have. She should have known that when he broke it off, he’d break it off cleanly. But what about Zanera? She was sure the woman hadn’t given up on him.

  There was only one thing to do. If she couldn’t guard him, she’d guard Zanera. She’d get a charm like the one she had made for Drake to shield her presence. The woman wouldn’t know she was there.

  That’s what you said about tali.

  That was different—

  Jelena’s skin prickled, but the warning came too late. Before she discovered the danger, something bit painfully into the side of her neck. Her world spun wildly as colors exploded behind her eyes. Then there was nothing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “IT IS done.”

  Drake pulled his gaze away from his office balcony view of the Guild communications center, where Guild and Nar’galira worked side-by-side turning his well-oiled machine into a thing of perfection, and glanced at Kedar. The man nodded, and that perpetual knife sank a little deeper. His grip tightened on the cool, marble railing.

  Sending Jelena away was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. Not even standing before the queen while Hastin attempted to barter Drake’s life for his freedom had been this hard. But he had no choice. He had to stay focused on his mission. Threaden must be dealt with once and for all. Seeing her now… He shook his head. He couldn’t afford the distraction.

  Damn, why did it feel so wrong?

  He rubbed his wrist, missing the warmth of Jelena’s gift the same way he’d missed the warmth of her body this morning in his bed. Gods, he wished… Drake sighed and shook his head. This was pointless.

  Wishing wouldn’t change her feelings about him. Wishing wouldn’t change his past. Wishing did nothing but tighten the fist squeezing his heart. Pointless.

  Gods, it felt so wrong.

  Focus! Focus on what you have to do before you get yourself killed, you dumb bastard. Before you get someone else killed!

  “Do you think she’ll do it anyway?”

  Drake looked at Riordan, who sat at his desk playing with his terminal like a kid with a new toy. The rest of his quartet was down below, mingling with Guild. “And lose her guardianship?” He shook his head. “It means too much to her.”

  “More than you? More than your bond?”

  He jerked his gaze to Mayori. She stared at him from her place in front of one of the four stained-glass windows dividing the west wall. The dull light from the open window made her short green hair glow. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Drake—”

  “Leave off, Mayori.”

  She sighed and turned back to the window.

  Riordan raised an eyebrow.

  “You don’t know me well enough to question me.”

  “All right.” Riordan raised his hands, warding him off, and returned to the game he played on the terminal.

  Drake sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. How much longer? He probably could have dealt with Threaden and been back already, but he wasn’t willing to walk into another trap. So, when Riordan and his gang approached him first thing this morning, ready, willing and able to help, he’d put the question to them. How could he get to Threaden without alerting the Udaro—specifically Zanera?

  He couldn’t without the use of a charm like the cuff Jelena had given him. He could keep his magic from showing in his eyes, but he couldn’t keep others from sensing it. The Executioners, Sentinels, and Guardians were no different.

  But the Guild could do it. The Guild could go in, have a look around, and get out without the Udaro ever feeling their presence, with a little help of course—magical help.

  It only made sense to combine resources, so he had. But he hadn’t expected so many Nar’galira to show up to help. Executioners, Sentinels, and even a few Guardians. They’d seen the sense in joining forces, using whatever means available to get the job done. Once they’d gotten over their initial wariness, they worked well together.

  Drake didn’t know if Kedar foresaw this when he chose Drake to replace him, but he seemed pleased. He gazed down on the busy communications center, nodding his head as Guild and Nar’galira interacted. “You have done well in this. The gods must be pleased.”

  “The council won’t care much for it.”

  “The council doesn’t care much for anything.” Kedar’s blue eyes twinkled with laughter. “But they have little to say in what the Three Factions do.”

  The Three Factions. He’d learned quite a bit about them in the last few days. The Executioners, Guardians, and Sentinels were laws unto themselves, answering only to the gods. Normally, he’d say that was begging for trouble, but it worked for them.

  They had rules and regulations, and if one faction stepped over the line, they faced the Faction Tribunal, an entity whose power and judgment was second only to the gods.

  When Kedar had named him an Executioner, he put Drake beyond the council’s reach. They would have to go to the tribunal for further action. Apparently, he wasn’t worth that much trouble. “The tribunal is all right with this?”

  Kedar nodded. “Our peoples have been left to their own devices far too long. This will be good for them, so long as caution is maintained.”

  “That won’t be a problem.” The Guild didn’t want their secrets spread around any more than the Nar’galira did. Separately, the Three Factions and the Guild were powerful and efficient, each in its own right, but together… the federation should b
e damned grateful he wasn’t an ambitious man. Damned grateful.

  “The intel’s back,” Galen said striding into the room. A little blonde Sentinel followed close on his heels. “He’s on Regula, just like you thought, in the Southern Hemisphere near Godak.”

  “Godak?”

  Drake glanced at Riordan and nodded. “Heavy swamplands. Not too popular with humans, so it’s a good place to hide out.”

  “It’s a wasteland now.” Galen put a disk into the display unit and a visual popped up, the same one Drake had seen in Jelena’s vision circle all those days ago. A black stone fortress, glowing evil green, surrounded by blackened skeletal trees. Zanera’s fortress. Her dark magic leeched the life out of the place.

  “There are a few Udaro wandering around, but they pretty much stay away from him.” Galen touched the control pad, changing the visual to a three-dimensional schematic of the fortress’ layout. “When the intel came in, Threaden was headed here for mid-meal,” he pointed out the dining room, “he’ll return to his office, here.” He pointed to the other side of the fortress. “No transporters, he’ll have to walk.”

  “What about Zanera?”

  “Gone. She left last night and hasn’t checked in since.”

  “Any clue on where she is?”

  Galen nodded toward the little blonde Sentinel standing at his elbow. “What I saw in Tamra’s vision circle thing looks like Kilkaren.” The sister planet of Chula, the Jotnar prison world.

  Drake swore. “Mayori, time to tighten the screws on Jerrek. I want to know what she’s up to. Now. Riordan, go with her.”

  Riordan nodded. “I know a trick or two that will have him singing like a sparrow.” He bowed and followed Mayori out the door.

  Drake checked his boot dagger, slipped a blaster in his belt, and grabbed his cape from its hook.

  “I’m going with you,” Galen said.

  “No.” He swirled his cape around his shoulders, barely sparing a glance at his brother’s determined expression. His brother, gods.

  “Drake—”

  “Galen, I said no.” He turned to face him. “I know you want to see him pay for what he did to Morgan, but this—”