“I hope he isn’t giving you too much trouble. He’s known for being a horrendous patient at the best of times, so you must have the patience of the All-Mother Herself to put up with him for as long as you have.”
Enari’s blush intensified at the compliment and she perched gingerly on the edge of the offered chair. An uncomfortable silence descended on the room and Eryk frowned. Why wasn’t she saying anything?
It took him a moment to remember the girl was mute and he mentally cursed himself for allowing the silence to stretch. Before he could speak, however, she produced a handful of folded parchment scraps. Reaching across the table, she placed them in a precarious pile before him.
“Are these from Jex?”
She nodded.
“I’d meant to ask him about them.” Eryk sighed in relief. “I’m glad they weren’t lost in all the pandemonium. Do you remember how many other mages he spoke with while you traveled?”
Enari’s brows furrowed and she gnawed on one knuckle absently as she thought, then held up both hands, fingers spread.
“Only ten?” It was the High Mage’s turn to frown. “There should have been at least fourteen.”
“It’s possible I encountered the others on my way here,” Antilles provided.
He produced a few parchments of his own and the two men perused them quickly before the High Mage sat back, apparently satisfied.
Antilles turned back to Enari. “May I have your permission to visit Jex?”
Enari lifted one shoulder in a shrug. There was no reason for him not to have visitors, so long as he was feeling better when he woke. Perhaps this Adept Denier would see something like she had, and thus lend a new perspective to the mystery of the dark marks.
“Excellent. I’ll come by after dinner, then.”
At last taking her leave of the two men, she shut the door securely behind her on the way out. The antechamber was empty and she was able to slip into the hall unnoticed.
“Quiet little mouse, isn’t she?” Antilles commented.
“Aye,” Eryk agreed, “Vasi says she’s never made so much as a squeak since she was born. No one knows why.”
“Curious.”
“Very.”
“She could be Tanith’s twin, were it not for the age difference,” the adept said carefully, watching the High Mage for his reaction.
“So it isn’t just my imagination. Good.” Eryk’s expression was neutral, but Antilles wasn’t fooled.
“And Kvinna De’Curande has told you nothing of her past, or her family?” he pressed.
“There really hasn’t been time. With everything that’s happened, Vasi and I haven’t spoken more than a handful of sentences to one another in the month and a half she’s been here, which is a pity. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed her company.”
“In regards to said goings-on…Perimos should be here by month’s end at the very latest I think.”
“Why so long?” Eryk asked.
Antilles sighed. “He mentioned something about a ‘minor disturbance in the observatory’ that delayed his departure.”
“I swear by the Five, if my observatory isn’t exactly how I left it, I’m going to skin him alive. There’d better not be so much as a scorch mark on the stone.”
Antilles snorted out a laugh. “You should ride home slowly then, and take the long way ‘round. I hear Davaria’s capitol has lovely winter festivals that go from midwinter to the beginning of spring. That should give him ample time to put everything to rights. I wish he’d been more careful, though, because I certainly could have used his help this morning.”
Eryk felt his minor irritation darken into despair.
Brinon had sent for him at dawn, not even an hour after Antilles had arrived, and the news had not been good.
Yet another body had been found, this one in the tor’s own study.
Thankfully, Brinon had come across the scene before anyone else, and he’d kept the servants out with the excuse that he had sensitive business to attend to and that he must under no circumstances be disturbed. He’d sent a priest, who were a discreet lot by nature, to fetch his brothers-in-law and no curious crowd ever assembled.
The smell of decay had been absent here, as the corpse had not lain in the room but overnight. The golden light of dawn illuminated the tableau, casting a cheerful glow over the sad sight.
Collin Fin, personal secretary, confidante, and close friend of the tor’s for nearly five decades, sat at his desk, slumped over a pile of parchments. A quill was still clutched in one hand and his sallow cheek rested on a half-finished letter. His death had not been a violent one, like those of the council members, but it was certainly unnatural. One glance at his body proved that.
His tongue had been removed, same as the boy’s, and a braid of dark hair had been wrapped around one finger. It was impossible to determine its owner, however, as the coloring and length were common enough.
“Goddess preserve us,” Antilles breathed, “Is this like the others?”
“Only like the first,” Jordin provided, “The set after that were, ah, messier.”
“Poor Collin. He was my second cousin on my mother’s side, you know. His family will be devastated.” Brinon bent over the body and reached to close the dead eyes. He hesitated at the last minute and looked to the mages. “May I touch him?”
Eryk deferred to Antilles, who nodded. “I know your aura, sire, and a simple touch won’t contaminate the scene in any case. Go ahead.”
“Good-bye, my friend,” he murmured, “You shall be much missed.”
“What was he writing?” Jordin asked. He eased the page from under Collin cheek and his eyes scanned the elegant script. They snapped up to Brinon, shocked.
“I thought,” the duque began, “that you weren’t going to send Sarene to Davaria until next spring.”
Brinon’s face colored, but he didn’t look away. “I wasn’t, until all this confusion with the killings, the unrest in the Grand Council, and the stirrings from Ibiran started. Under the circumstances, however, it seemed prudent to write to Hadrian regarding the possibility of an early winter wedding.”
“Aelani agreed?”
“I haven’t spoken with her yet.”
“Ah.”
After a lengthy discussion, it was decided the best course of action would be to present the secretary’s death as a heart attack. If it were revealed to be otherwise, the tor feared an uproar. Four suspicious deaths were bad enough, but add a fifth he argued, and fear would run rampant and that was the last thing they needed.
* * *
“He says you’ve been really sick, Jex.”
“Not that sick.” Typical Jex-Xander-downplay-and-dismiss.
“I hate it when you lie to me. I’ve already Looked at you, you know.”
Enari halted with her hand on Jex’s bedroom door. She’d pushed it open only a crack when she’d heard voices, and now debated whether she should enter or retreat. Curiosity got the better of her in the end and she leaned forward to put an eye to the narrow space.
Jex stood near the window with Antilles Denier and they looked as if they’d been arguing. Jex’s eyes were bloodshot and he wiped his nose on his sleeve once before Antilles offered him a handkerchief.
Jex sighed again and his shoulders sagged a little. “Alright, but I’ll be fine in time. Thank Enari for that.”
“The little novice from Cyril?”
“That’s her.”
“She’s gorgeous,” Antilles observed casually, “Have you…?”
“Aye to the first, nay to the second.”
“But you want to.”
It was a statement rather than a question and Enari felt her face heat.
“Maybe.”
Antilles shook his head. “I know you better than that, Jex.”
“I suppose you must after all this time. We both know I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”
“I’m sorry, you know. So, so sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t!”
Antilles embraced him fiercely and Jex allowed it for a moment before pushing him away with a sigh and a little smile.
“What?” Antilles asked, frowning.
“We’ve an audience.”
Turning almost casually, Jex’s eyes focused on her and she knew she’d been caught.
He beckoned. “Don’t be shy.”
Antilles started in surprise when she tentatively pushed open the door, but greeted her warmly when she reached them. She stared at the floor, cheeks burning, until Jex tucked a hand beneath her chin and raised it. There was no anger or even irritation in his expression, and in fact, he seemed more amused than anything.
“Kylan’s habit of eavesdropping is rubbing off on you,” he teased, tracing his thumb across her lower lip. “Did you learn anything interesting?”
“Leave the poor girl be,” Antilles chided him. He addressed Enari with a sympathetic wince. “I’m sure you’ve learned by now when it’s best to ignore him.”
“She’s far too polite for that, Antilles, unlike some people I know. Well, Nani, I suppose it’s time for you to have your nightly way with me, isn’t it?” He dodged the elbow Antilles jabbed at him, a smug grin turning up the corners of his mouth.
Glad to have something to do that didn’t require her to look at either of them, Enari began fussing with her kit, all the while listening to the conversation behind her.
“How much news do you get, cooped up in there all day?” Antilles asked.
“Not nearly so much as I’m used to, I’m afraid. Why?”
“I’m not just here to report on the ambush, though the findings are interesting enough to warrant the trip.” His eyes darted to Enari and he hesitated.
“I trust her.”
“People in the palace are dying.”
Jex shrugged. “People do that.”
“Not like this. They’re ritual killings, I’m almost certain, though rumor blames some of them on Ibiran rebels and some on Atromorese infiltrators. People are scared. Eryk has sent for Perimos.”
“Diu. How many have there been?” Jex demanded.
Antilles’ shoulders slumped, “Four, so far. A kitchen boy and three Grand Council members.”
“Which ones?”
“Um…Adipem Porcus, Hrivaldi Le’Quar, and Hera something.”
“Hera Wastrel,” Jex finished sourly, “That hag was one of the councilors promoting the idea of marrying Torina Kylan off to Min Ha. The child is seven.”
Antilles made a face. “That’s repulsive.”
“Makes you wonder why anyone could possibly want her dead.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Jex, will you read to me before lessons?”
Kylan flopped down beside him in the shade and dropped a thin volume onto his chest. Sighing, he sat up, catching the book before it could fall into the faded grass.
His fever had broken again in the early hours and he’d ventured out of doors after breakfast, needing to feel a little sunshine on his skin after so long abed. He’d been shocked to find summer already beginning its grudging yield to autumn, and the day was gloriously warm instead of stifling. Nature was busily plying her paintbrush and everywhere he looked was a touch of red or a splash of orange. If anything, the changes made the carefully maintained spaces even more peaceful.
Enari, strangely reticent to look him in the eyes, had declined his invitation to join him and he secretly suspected she too needed a little peace and quiet. Most likely she’d hidden herself away in the library somewhere or was visiting with Torina Anya. The two women obviously enjoyed one another’s company and he was glad she had another friend here. Anya was also a willing participant in Enari’s psychomancy lessons, making a sort of game out of it as she told him they’d done with reading when Enari was small.
Thus leaving them to their own devices, he’d come out of doors alone and after hours of dozing in the grass, he felt immensely better. While the things Enari had shown him still disturbed his dreams, the mystery of the ugly black smudges on his aura seemed less threatening in the heat of the day. He still hadn’t had the chance to discuss the situation with Eryk and it was clear that Vasi had said nothing of their conversation, but he hoped to speak with them both that evening.
In the meantime, he intended to enjoy his mobility and freedom, short-lived as they might prove to be.
Jex examined the book Kylan had given him and grinned. “Tahir’s Lover is not an appropriate story for a girl your age. Where did you get this?”
“Enari left it in your room.”
He had wondered what she’d been reading that morning and why she’d flushed so prettily when he’d asked her. Books seemed a safe topic between them…unlike the mirror. After that night, she’d refused to show him any more. Whenever he tried to push her for details, she either pretended not to hear him or decided it was a good time to poke and prod at his mostly-healed wounds.
He could take a hint.
“Pick another one,” he told the girl.
Obviously prepared for this reaction, Kylan produced another book and held it under his nose triumphantly. “How about this one?”
“Better.”
“You, you don’t think they’re baby-stories, do you, Jex? Sarene says they are.”
He smiled down at her. “Of course not. It’s very important to know the legends and stories of one’s own people and between you and me, your sister could use a few more ‘baby stories’ in her collection.”
“Good.” Kylan scooted closer, heedless of the grass stains she was getting, and leaned her head against his chest. “Now read, please. Can I turn the pages?”
“If you’d like.”
“Papa and Uncle Eryk always let me turn the pages.”
Swallowing more laughter, he opened the book and began to read.
Sometime between chapters five and seven, Enari joined them. She had a basket over one arm and hesitated when she caught sight of them, clearly expecting Jex to be alone. Kylan was the first to spot her.
“Enari!” she cried, “I looked for you everywhere this morning, but I couldn’t find you.” She motioned towards the grass on Jex’s other side. “Will you read with us? It’s getting really exciting, and he reads good.”
“I read well,” Jex corrected her. She stuck her tongue out at him, but he ignored her and instead held a hand out to Enari. She took it, letting him pull her down beside him. Kylan put her head back against his chest, wiggling a bit to get comfortable, but Enari held back, her leg just barely touching his.
“Only a few more chapters, Kylan, and then we have lessons. I promised your mother, remember?”
“Oh, all right,” she pouted, “but you can’t stop in the middle of a chapter like you did last time. And no falling asleep!”
“As you command.”
Picking up the book again, he resumed reading. He certainly was an excellent storyteller, Enari observed. His voice wove magic into the tale and drew her in despite her reservations. When she hesitantly leaned against him, her pose mimicking Kylan’s, Jex drew up his knees to balance the book and put an arm around her. Midnight and fire spilled across his tunic, gray eyes and gold fastened on the slowly turning pages.
Enari’s eyes fell shut and she let the story sweep her away. So entranced was she by his voice that it took her several moments to realize the tale had changed quite dramatically.
“’And clasping her tiny, elegant hand in his, Tahir stole her away in secret to his inner chamber, not daring to release her until they were within and the door was safely bolted against all trespassers. Then he drew aside the velvet hangings on the great bed, revealing an expanse of crimson silk that never seemed to end. Layalie watched enrapt, motionless, and waiting with bated breath for his command…’”
“Oh, Goddess, please no.”
“’…His face was dark and still as he gazed upon her, like that of a man who has embraced his fate. ‘Lie there,’ he said softly.
Without a word, nor with a single hesitation, she lay down on the bed at her lover’s behest. Eyes closed, she felt his softly trembling hands touch her body in desire. He stroked her face with infinite tenderness and promise, and at last there was the lingering press of a kiss upon her blushing lips…’”
“It is. Oh no no no. I’m going to die.” Yet she couldn’t move. Dared not move. She sat, breath held, head against his shoulder. His voice was no longer animated as it had been before. It had dropped an octave, sliding across her like velvet and silk and all the sensual things of the tale he was bringing to life.
“’…Layalie lay in a sort of expectant rapture. Then she shivered at the feel of his hand moving with impatient passion among her skirts. He drew away the silken finery, little-by-little, layer-by-layer, until she was naked upon the bed in which tors and toras had coupled with their paramours for ages out of memory. With a quiver of exquisite joy and deepest yearning, Tahir touched the warm softness of her nude and perfect body. And he had to come into her at once, to seek Andehai as man has always done within the body of a woman. It was a moment of purest harmony for Tahir and Layalie, his lover.’”
His lips were right against her ear, his voice barely more than a whisper. She stared, unseeing, at the page before he quietly closed the book.
“I thought you should hear it as it ought to be read,” he explained, “Don’t be angry at Kylan when she wakes for telling me you were reading it. She didn’t mean any harm.”
Enari’s breath was coming in short, rapid little gasps and she couldn’t seem to get enough air. Humiliation warred with an unidentifiable tingling heat inside her, but she didn’t know which was winning. His hand ghosted up and down her arm, soothing and arousing at once.
“Are you very angry with me, Nani?”
His fingers touched her jaw, lifted her face to study her expression. Very slowly, not entirely sure if she meant it, she shook her head. The smile he gave her was dazzling and something in his eyes made her catch and hold her breath. His head tilted and he leaned towards her.
Errant Spark (Elemental Trials Book 1) Page 19