The Palace of Impossible Dreams

by Jennifer Fallon

  The two amphibians replied in their own strange language that few non-Crasii understood, and then slipped into the water and swam away, back toward their own settlement further along the channel.

  Azquil turned back to his sister and tried to help her to her feet, but whether from exhaustion or injury, she seemed unable to stand. Without saying a word, Declan pushed past Arkady and Tiji and scooped the little Crasii into his arms.

  Azquil bowed to Declan respectfully. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Declan didn’t answer, not even to correct Azquil for calling him “my lord.” Instead, he turned for the Outpost and carried the wounded chameleon inside, leaving Azquil, Tiji and Arkady to follow in the certain knowledge that whatever problems Declan was having with the notion of immortality, whatever private agenda Cayal was working toward, everything was now secondary to rescuing Medwen and Ambria from the wrath of the great trading house of Medura.

  Chapter 45

  With Tenika’s head wound taken care of and the young chameleon put to bed, they gathered in the Outpost’s kitchen for the second time this morning, only now it was a council of war that convened around Ambria’s scrubbed wooden table. Despite his reluctance to have anything to do with the Tide Lords, Declan found himself drawn into the machinations of the immortals. There seemed little point in fighting the inevitable. He was here and he was—however reluctantly—one of them. It would be foolish to turn his back on this opportunity, just because he didn’t like what it made him.

  This realisation was still very new to Declan, prompted by something Arkady had said to him on the dock earlier. You spent your whole life working for the Cabal, looking for a way to end the Tide Lords. And here you are, with the answer being offered to you on a silver platter, and you don’t want anything to do with it . . . you’re about to discover the very thing your wretched Cabal has been seeking for the last five thousand years, and you’re going to turn your back on the knowledge because you’re angry at me.

  It horrified Declan to realise how right she was. He hadn’t given the Cabal a thought when he told Cayal he wanted nothing to do with his plans to take his own life.

  Idiot.

  Everything the Cabal had been set up to learn, the very reason for their existence, was to find a way to put an end to the Tide Lords. And here he was, one of them, with a Tide Lord who’d found a way to destroy himself. There was no room for pride or personal feelings. Perhaps that was why fate had made him immortal in the first place. Perhaps even destiny had decided the Tide Lords had gone on long enough and had decided they must go . . .

  Assuming destiny was anything other than random chance . . .

  Declan’s head ached just thinking about it.

  But to learn the secret of destroying the Tide Lords, he was going to have to cooperate with Arryl and—worse—with Cayal. And not pay any attention to the fact that Arkady clearly preferred the company of the Immortal Prince to his, even though Declan knew the only one he could blame for that sorry state of affairs was himself.

  Cayal’s reaction to learning the news about Ambria and Medwen’s arrest surprised Declan. He’d always thought the immortal completely selfish and self-serving. He’d assumed the Immortal Prince would consider the plight of his immortal sisters an unfortunate complication, and not want to get involved.

  Cayal stunned him by announcing, “We have to get them back.”

  “That’s going to blow our cover,” Arryl said with a frown. “Particularly if you march into a Senestran prison and start magically melting the bars.”

  “Can you do that, my lord?” Azquil asked in awe.

  Cayal shrugged. “Tide might not be up far enough for anything quite so dramatic.”

  “We’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to keep our presence here a secret, Cayal,” Arryl said. “I won’t have you endangering that.”

  He looked sceptical. “You don’t think Medwen and Ambria healing up as soon as they’re beaten—and they will be beaten—isn’t going to give the game away? Or worse, if they try to execute them?”

  “Maybe the Marines will just question Ambria and Medwen and then release them?” Tiji suggested. She sat close to Azquil. Declan wasn’t sure if it was because she’d finally found another member of her own species or there was something more going on between his slave and the handsome young male she’d managed to find herself. “I mean, they just brought the news about the doctor’s death, not confessed to causing it. The Senestran authorities won’t just execute the messengers out of spite, will they?”

  “Cydne comes from a very important family,” Arkady said. “I don’t think the Meduras will let this go without some investigation. Particularly if Jojo got there first with the truth.”

  Arryl nodded in agreement. “Medwen and Ambria were going to tell them he died of the fever. Their word will carry more weight than a feline’s if only because they look human, and Senestrans think the Crasii little more than animals blessed with the ability to speak. But with two different versions of his death, and the certain news that he did die, this man’s family will not let the matter rest.”

  “How did he die?” Cayal asked.

  “We tied him to the Justice Tree and let the gobie ants eat him alive,” Azquil said.

  Cayal smiled. “Charming.”

  Arryl didn’t seem nearly so amused. She frowned and turned to Azquil. “We need to go back to Watershed. Get rid of the body and any trace of him being there.”

  “That won’t work,” Arkady said. “The Physicians’ Guild know we were there. Tides, they sent us there.”

  Azquil nodded in agreement as he studied Arkady thoughtfully. Declan found himself staring at the young male, fascinated by how much he looked like Tiji. He wished he had the time to meet more of these creatures, to see how they lived. Who’d have thought there was a whole conclave of them here in the Senestra Wetlands? Declan could understand why Tiji had abandoned any pretence of belonging to him.

  “You raise a valid point. And something else we should have thought of.”

  “What’s that?” Arryl asked.

  “The first person they will come looking for to tell them the truth about his fate is the doctor’s wii-ah.”

  “Who is that?” Cayal asked.

  “Me.”

  Cayal turned to Arkady with a raised brow. “You were the good doctor’s wii-ah? That’s a fairly impressive step down from duchess.”

  Declan wasn’t sure what a wii-ah was. The slave at the clinic in Port Traeker had used the same word, but Declan still wasn’t sure what it meant. And he certainly didn’t like the way Cayal was looking at Arkady. Or the way he spoke to her.

  For that matter, he wasn’t particularly fond of anything about the Immortal Prince.

  “What’s a wii-ah?” he asked, fairly sure he wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “A slave,” Cayal answered before anybody else could. “A body slave to be exact. Not quite a mistress, but a step or two up from a whore. A chattel with no rights, favoured by her master for all the wrong reasons. I had one once, I think. Name of Finea or Fonia, I think. Do you remember her, Arryl?”

  “No,” Arryl said. “But then, I don’t make a habit of keeping up with your sexual exploits as a rule, Cayal.”

  “Neither do I,” he said with the hint of a grin. “Which is probably why I can’t remember her name. Still, it’s quite the career change for a Glaeban duchess with a doctorate in history.”

  Declan was astonished when Arkady, rather than slap Cayal for the insult, just shrugged and looked down at her hands. “You’ve done worse to stay alive.”

  “Done worse, yes,” Cayal agreed. “But I didn’t need to do it to stay alive. Who else knew you were his wii-ah?”

  “Everyone,” Arkady said. “His wife made sure of it. She didn’t like me.”

  “Hardly surprising,” Arryl said, her expression thoughtful. “But it means they’ll come looking for you. Or expect you to return to Port Traeker. After all, you’re probably the one reliable
witness, as far as the family is concerned, to your master’s fate.” She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head.

  Arkady didn’t seem so sure. “I don’t know that they will, my lady. If Jojo told them I was tied to that tree along with Cydne, wouldn’t they assume that by now I am also dead?”

  “If she even brought up your fate, when she reported to the family. Being wii-ah, you may not have rated a mention.” Cayal sighed heavily, as if he considered everything the Trinity had done thus far just a little bit stupid. “Pity Ambria or Medwen didn’t think this through a little better before they went running off to report the doctor’s death.”

  “What do you think will happen now?” Declan asked, hoping to keep the discussion on topic. Although he had a broad grasp of the structure of Senestran society, he wasn’t up on the politics of the various trading Houses. And he had no idea how the Senestrans would react in a situation like this.

  Or that Arkady, when she’d told him you don’t want to even think about how I survived, was trying to explain that for the past few months she’d been some Senestran nobleman’s favoured mistress. And to think, she’d claimed it was all Cayal’s fault. Running into him had set off the chain of events that led her to this pass . . .

  Funny, she doesn’t seem to be holding it against him, though.

  “I suspect they’ll send someone to investigate in the first instance,” Arryl said.

  “And if they don’t like what they find,” Azquil added, “they’ll probably decide to wipe out every living creature in the wetlands, just to be certain they got everyone involved in the death of one of their scions.”

  Declan shook his head in disbelief. “Would they really do that much damage over the death of one man?”

  “Your little friend here was sent by these same people to indiscriminately deal out poison to the Crasii,” Arryl reminded him, “just as a preventative measure to stop swamp fever spreading to the cities. Believe me, Azquil is not exaggerating.”

  “And if they harm Medwen or Ambria, by either torturing them or trying to execute them, things are going to get a whole lot more complicated,” Cayal said. He looked at Arryl and smiled. “Jelidia’s looking pretty attractive right now, isn’t it?”

  Arryl glared at the Immortal Prince. “Does that mean you’re abandoning us in our hour of need?”

  “Not at all,” Cayal said. “I wouldn’t miss this party for the world. I’ll help you get the others back, Arryl. Tides, I’ll save your wretched little lizard friends from the wrath of the Senestran Trading Guilds on my own if I have to. But I expect you to return the favour.”

  “How?”

  “When we’re done, you and the others come back to Jelidia with me.”

  “So we can help you kill yourself?” Arryl asked, clearly not pleased with the idea.

  “We all have our dreams, Arryl. Don’t deny me mine.”

  The Sorceress thought about it for a moment and then nodded reluctantly. “Once this is done, there’ll be no point in trying to stay here anyway. I can’t speak for Ambria or Medwen, but if you can save the others and somehow protect the Crasii of the wetlands from annihilation—preferably without causing another cataclysm—then I’ll come to Jelidia with you.”

  Cayal nodded, seemingly satisfied with that. And then he turned his disconcerting gaze on Declan. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Are you in?”

  “In what, exactly?” Declan asked.

  “Our noble plan to save the Crasii of the Senestran Wetlands from their own stupidity.”

  “Cydne Medura was a murderer, my lord,” Azquil objected. “We delivered justice.”

  “Which is possibly the stupidest thing you’ve done in your short, pitiful life, my slimy young friend.” He turned to look at Declan. “Well?”

  “In return for my help, you’ll take me to Jelidia to meet Lukys?” he asked, determined to make certain he knew exactly what he was getting into. Tides, Shalimar, if you could see me now. “And I get to help you kill yourself?”

  Cayal smiled, not fooled for a moment by Declan’s calm demeanour. That was the problem with the Tide, Declan was rapidly learning: you could sound in control but the Tide would betray you to anybody who could read the signs. “You get to meet your daddy. I get to die. Everybody wins.”

  Declan refused to look at Arkady or Tiji, although he could feel their eyes on him. Arkady would know why he was doing this. Tides, she was the one who suggested it. He doubted Tiji would be as understanding. But there was nothing for it; the only way to learn this secret for the Cabal, the only way to ensure his own immortality could be defeated some day, was to find the man who had found a way to end the life of an immortal.

  That the same man may or may not be his father was something Declan decided he’d deal with later.

  He nodded. “Count me in then. Although I’m not sure how much use I’m going to be. I really don’t know much about Tide magic. And I’m assuming that’s how you’re planning to help these people?”

  Cayal shrugged. “You’ll learn quick enough.”

  “What are you going to do?” Arkady asked. She didn’t even glance at Declan.

  “Send you back to Watershed Falls for a start,” Cayal said. “Dress you like a slave and have you waiting there for when the good doctor’s family comes a-calling, to find out what really happened. That should buy us a few days at least.”

  Arkady shook her head. “I don’t know why you think I’m getting involved in this. These women you want to save from the Senestrans ordered me tied to the Justice Tree and condemned me to a slow and painful death, a couple of days ago, for the simple crime of being Cydne’s slave.”

  “And I’ve since promised Declan no harm will come to you,” Arryl reminded her.

  “By sending me back to Watershed Falls where they think I murdered a few score of their loved ones, to await the arrival of the Medura family who’ll probably blame me for the death of their only son. Yes, I can see how that’s going to work.”

  Cayal smiled, which Declan didn’t think would help matters much. “She has a point, Arryl.”

  Arryl wasn’t smiling. “Then consider it repayment for not taking you back to the Justice Tree to see the remainder of your sentence carried out.”

  Arkady glared at Arryl and Cayal for a moment and then glanced at Declan. She said nothing, but he knew her well enough to guess what she was thinking. She’d just lectured him, after all, about refusing an opportunity to find a way to be rid of the immortals, and here she was, doing exactly the same thing. He read the internal war going on inside her head and noted the moment she gave in. She turned back to Arryl, looking resigned.

  “How do I explain about the brand?”

  “What brand?” Cayal asked.

  “All Senestran slaves are branded on the right breast,” she said. “Mine’s gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “Just gone. Declan made it go away when he healed me after they tried to execute me.”

  Cayal turned his gaze on Declan and stared at him in silence for a time. But he said nothing in the end, turning to Azquil instead. “You really are impulsive little creatures, aren’t you? No wonder you can’t survive without immortal protection.”

  Azquil was unapologetic, even to a Tide Lord. “She was dealing out poison as readily as the doctor was, my lord. She deserved the same fate.”

  The Immortal Prince shook his head and turned to Arkady, apparently amused by something. “You really have moved on from being a duchess, haven’t you?”

  Arkady ignored the remark. “What do we do about the brand?”

  Arryl shrugged. “We could draw one on you, I suppose, that’ll pass casual inspection.”

  “Unless you’d like to be branded again for the sake of authenticity?” Cayal added.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Cayal said, rising to his feet. “Arkady goes back to Watershed Falls to wait for the Trading Guild, or the Physici
ans’ Guild, or whatever wretched guild decides to deal with this. You two can go with her,” he added to Azquil and Tiji. “You’ll be able to bring word as soon as they arrive. And maybe stop all your cousins in the village from stringing her up a second time.”

  “What about me?” Declan asked, almost afraid to wonder what the Immortal Prince had in mind for him.

  “You and I are going to spend the short time we have before all hell breaks loose, teaching you some control. Any attack on the wetlands will logically come via the water. I’m going to have to teach you how to use the Tide to sink a boat.”

  “Without harming the amphibians who are towing it,” Arryl said.

  Cayal sighed. “If you insist.”

  “I do, Cayal.”

  “You’re far too nice to be immortal, Arryl.” Not waiting for her to answer that accusation, Cayal turned to Declan. “Unlike our spymaster here, who, if his reputation on Recidivists’ Row was anything to go by, is enough of a bastard to fit right in.”

  “Cayal . . . please . . .” Arkady said, but Declan wasn’t sure if she was interceding on his behalf or asking the Immortal Prince to contain himself for some other reason.

  Tides, why I am doing this? Declan thought. It’s insane.

  He glanced at Arkady, but she was looking at Cayal. It was almost as if she was deliberately avoiding meeting his eye. What are you playing at, Arkady? She was acting like the Immortal Prince was her long-lost lover, while advising him to follow Cayal to learn the secret of killing an immortal.

  Declan wished he knew if that was because Arkady genuinely wanted to see an end to the Tide Lords, or if she was just interested in seeing the end of one in particular.

  And if it was the latter motivating her, which immortal was she hoping would die once they’d learned the secret of killing immortals? Jaxyn, perhaps? He was still hunting her, after all. Diala? She’d made a fool of Arkady and Stellan by posing as her husband’s niece. Was it Kinta, the woman who had sent her to Brynden? Or Brynden himself, who’d sold her like a piece of meat to a Torlenian slaver? Was it Cayal? The immortal who’d seduced her and then abandoned her, allowing her to be sold as a slave in the first place?