In Deception's Shadow Box Set: Book 1-3

by Lisa Blackwood

  Well, she supposed fewer acolytes within the city walls could only be a good thing.

  She and Silverblade had arrived in the middle of the night. The first part of the journey had been by Gate and the second part was completed with the help of fleet-footed santhyrians. Several members of Silverblade’s pack had made the journey with them. His pack members and the santhyrians would fall back to wait with the other members of the Twelve and the Elemental army. And every last member was armed with longbows and fire arrows.

  But the plan concocted by the council of elders and members of the Twelve depended on secrecy. The Elementals did not want to cause open war between themselves and the humans simply to exterminate the acolytes. But first, they would have to set up a secret meeting with General Stonemantle without the acolytes getting wind of it.

  Both Stonemantle sisters agreed that their father was wise and likely already suspected the acolytes of having some agenda. The difficulty would be reaching him. There was also the risk that he’d already been compromised. That’s why Beatrice and Silverblade found themselves at the outskirts of River’s Divide.

  Of all the members of the Twelve, she and Silverblade were the best suited for this mission. Beatrice was known to the residents of River’s Divide and would not draw suspicion. Neither would Silverblade in his guise as a trapper. The great risk was if the surviving acolytes from the earlier attack recognized either Silverblade or herself. But she’d been avoiding acolytes all her life and was confident she could outwit them for one more day to complete their mission.

  Once they were within the city’s defenses, their plan hinged on finding Captain Nurrowford and determining if he was already corrupted by the acolytes or was still himself. If he was deemed trustworthy, they would be forced to rely upon him to get the letters written by the Stonemantle sisters to the general since there was no way a simple trapper or herb witch would have reason to speak with the commander of River’s Divide in person. They would also have to trust that when the general got the letters, he would act upon what he read.

  The plan had seemed feasible three days ago when it was thought out. Now, from their present position overlooking the gentle green hills surrounding River’s Divide, their plan seemed like a monumental task, rife with danger.

  The only point of reassurance that Beatrice drew from the mission was that many of the acolytes seemed to have already left the city, likely hunting for Elementals to feed their master’s dark hunger.

  However, Beatrice wasn’t so stupid as to assume all the acolytes had left the city. There would be some left behind to watch over the humans and likely study General Stonemantle.

  First they would have to sneak into River’s Divide and find Captain Nurrowford. And she dearly hoped she would not have to call upon her death magic and test her control in such a populated area. Silverblade had been correct. The pack bonds gave her far greater strength and endurance than she had before, but she couldn’t claim to even have a rudimentary understanding or control over them yet.

  Killing acolytes was one thing. They were already dead, but there were a great many innocent souls living in River’s Divide and she didn’t want to be responsible for snuffing out those lives.

  Silverblade shifted beside her, adjusting his large pack with its cargo of pelts into a more comfortable position. Beatrice carried a slightly smaller version, but it still felt like it weighed twice her own weight. If the gate guards asked, Silverblade would say his mare had gone lame and Old Mother had sent her granddaughter to help so he wouldn’t miss market day.

  “I still can’t believe we’re going back there,” she said. “What if the guards get suspicious?”

  Silverblade laughed. “The guards are male. If I let slip that Old Mother loaned you to me for the day to learn a trapper’s trade as well as other things,” His last word was dripping with innuendo. “The guards will be so busy conjuring up what you look like naked, they won’t be thinking with their brains or looking for any deception.”

  “Another time, I would find that disturbing.”

  “So would I.” Silverblade leaned down for a quick kiss. “And I would normally be quick to persuade a male to find another female to fantasize about.”

  She touched her lips and felt a shy smile spread across her face. “We should go. The city gate will open for the day soon.”

  Silverblade squeezed her hand before releasing it. His blunt nails reminded her he was fully human today. She’d grown so used to him in his hybrid form that the strange mix of human and lupwyn characteristics had become the ‘normal’ Silverblade to her. Over the last few days, she’d also seen him shift into his full lupwyn form. And now here he was as she had first known him, the human trapper.

  Out of all his forms, she had the most difficulty dealing with Silverblade as a human. One part of her mind wanted to warn against danger, for all humans meant danger to her. There was no rationale behind it, but then again, fear often wasn’t rational.

  She snorted at her own foolishness. Silverblade was her beloved no matter what form he wore.

  With that thought to warm her, they made their way down the road. They were soon joined by other farmers and villagers making their way to the city on market day.

  ***

  They made it to the gate without incident and when Silverblade joked about his new ‘helper,’ the gate guards had merely smiled knowingly and waved them on through.

  Together they continued on to the marketplace where Silverblade spoke with the town official to rent his usual booth. It was located right next to a known toymaker that Nurrowford often frequented looking for some new trinket or ribbon for one of his five children.

  After making their way to their booth, she helped Silverblade unpack his pelts, laying them out on the table to show their quality and his fine tanning skills. She was also surprised to see him unroll small, lifelike carvings of animals and people and lay them out next to his furs.

  A number of people were already visiting his booth. Apparently he was well known for his skill.

  While Beatrice found the whole endeavor nerve-wracking and difficult to focus on their patrons, she did manage to keep scanning for acolytes and Captain Nurrowford.

  The real danger would begin the moment she passed the letter to Nurrowford. Beatrice was confident she would be able to recognize if he’d been corrupted by acolytes, but she had no way of knowing if the general was compromised until she met him.

  Once the letter had been delivered, Silverblade and Beatrice would continue to sell their wares at the market, pretending to be nothing more than what they appeared. There they would await word from Captain Nurrowford and hopefully he would find a way to get them to General Stonemantle in secret.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Beatrice was just tying up a purchase for a local dressmaker when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Captain Nurrowford stood at the booth next to them, his long, lanky form casting a shadow across their table. She knew his appearance from previous market days. Even if she hadn’t, he’d be easy to pick out in a crowd.

  A particularly nasty scar twisted its way down from his eyebrow to his chin and it managed to pull all the skin on one side of his face toward a central, knotted mass of scar tissue. Her magic had always wanted to heal that wax-like pitted and rumpled skin.

  But from what she knew of the man, his outward appearance did not reflect what was inside. He was known to be a fair and honest man.

  When Nurrowford was almost finished with his purchase at the next booth over, she allowed her magic to flare and study him, searching for signs of acolyte corruption. She continued to study him even as she handed her package to the dressmaker. The woman handed her a small copper coin. Beatrice slipped it into her coin purse while at the same time easing out Ashayna Stonemantle’s letter.

  Captain Nurrowford purchased a small wooden toy sword, commenting that his youngest had managed to break the one he’d only bought the week before. Nurrowford walked on, ignoring the fur p
elts, but pausing when Silverblade put out another carved figurine.

  Nurrowford put down his other purchases to study the small carved horse. Beatrice had a suspicion it wasn’t actually a carving of a horse, but one of the horse-like santhyrians.

  He mumbled something under his breath. “My daughter already has a herd of these. But she’s always asking for just one more.”

  Captain Nurrowford chuckled good-naturedly and pulled out another small coin and handed it to Silverblade. While Silverblade was wrapping the tiny wooden figure in a bit of cloth, Nurrowford picked up his other purchases. Beatrice saw her chance.

  “Sir,” she said as she pretended to pick the letter up off the table where his purchases had sat a moment before. “You forgot this.”

  She tilted the letter in his direction at an angle so he couldn’t miss seeing his name and hopefully recognize the handwriting. Surprise registered on his face for less than a heartbeat, and then he schooled his features back into calm indifference, taking the letter from her hand with a polite thank you.

  And just like that he took his leave, slowly making his way through the rest of the market. Outwardly, he did not seem to hurry, but anyone studying him closely would see that he was no longer paying attention to the various items on the tables.

  After a quarter-candlemark, he pushed his way through the throngs of people coming to the market and headed deeper into River’s Divide—in the general direction of the Stonemantle residence. They could only hope that General Stonemantle would get the letter and act upon it.

  Since there was nothing else they could do on that front, they continued to sell their wares.

  Later, news reached her ears about some excitement at the docks. A ship had just sailed in. Gossip spread and before long, they heard that there were acolytes aboard the ship in the company of the temple soldiers that served them back in the empire.

  She and Silverblade exchanged a glance at the dire news. But there was nothing they could do at the moment.

  If they left now, they would draw unwanted attention, and there was no guarantee they would get another opportunity like this. There was nothing to do except sit, wait, and worry.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  It was close to the midday meal and much of the market’s traffic had already thinned. Beatrice eyed the few remaining pelts. Once they were gone, they would have to pack up and leave or draw unwanted attention. Beatrice was handing the second to last of Silverblade’s carvings to a wool merchant when a soldier came up behind him.

  Once the wool merchant hurried off with his purchase, the soldier stepped forward and eyed the lone carving still on the table.

  “You’re the one that sold the horse carving to Captain Nurrowford this morning?”

  “Yes.” Silverblade nodded politely in acknowledgement.

  “My general happened to see it and commented on the skill. His wife’s name day is approaching, and he wants one done for her. If you will come with me, it will be worth your time.”

  The soldier delivered the line with the bored indifference of someone who expected instant compliance. Silverblade was quick to agree. Together, he and Beatrice packed up their few remaining items in an efficient fashion, and then followed after the soldier.

  It didn’t slip past Beatrice’s notice that the soldier took them down little-used side routes, footpaths, and alleys. Before she knew it, they had come upon the back entrance of the great Stonemantle residence.

  Once they were inside, he continued to lead them down seldom-traversed hallways. Beatrice told herself it was a good sign that the general wanted to keep their arrival a secret. If the general served the acolytes, she doubted they would have cared if anyone noticed her and Silverblade’s arrival or not.

  A glimmer of hope kindled in her heart. They may just make a success of this mission after all. If they could get General Stonemantle and the garrison on their side, it would limit the casualties when it was time to eliminate the acolytes from River’s Divide.

  For her part, Beatrice kept her eyes downcast, trying to appear cowed and uncomfortable in her present environment. But in fact, she was seeing with more than her eyes—her other senses sharpened, her magic studying the area around her. So far, she sensed no acolytes in the immediate vicinity.

  After traveling down a few more remote corridors and up several flights of back stairs, where they only saw the occasional servant, she and Silverblade—in the company of the nameless soldier—arrived at a large, wooden door. A dozen soldiers guarded the hall and set her pulse to pounding.

  Inside she sensed more soldiers, but no acolytes. At least that was one bit of good news.

  The second piece of good news came in the fact that she sensed no corruption upon any of the soldiers here.

  When the soldier who had led them here opened the door and ushered them inside, Silverblade took the lead—protecting her, she realized with a bit of annoyance. Had they been about to walk into a room full of acolytes, which her magic told her they were not, she would have been the one best-suited for dealing with them.

  But that was an argument that would have to wait for later.

  Once they stepped inside the room, the door closed behind them with a soft click. A man sat at a large, oak desk. He looked up at their arrival and then back at the letter Captain Nurrowford had given him. After a moment, he stood slowly. The other soldiers in the room, seven by her count, stood a little straighter. If that was possible. They were already standing at attention with their weapons at the ready.

  “Who are you? And where are my daughters?” General Stonemantle’s words were not a question, they were a demand.

  Silverblade glanced over at Beatrice, and she caught his barely discernible nod. It was the signal to fish out the second set of letters from the pocket in her skirt.

  At Beatrice’s sudden movement, the guards standing around the room leveled crossbows at her. She froze with her hand in her pocket, her fingers touching the letter, but she dared not move. Her death magic was fast, but she didn’t know if it could strike fast enough to save her life this time.

  “I have a good idea what you are and I know what the Elementals are capable of. My occupation has granted me details that will haunt my nightmares for years to come, so I know how powerful your kind is. But I do not care. If you do not tell me where my daughters are, I will see how dangerous you are with crossbow bolts lodged in your skull.

  “Well, considering that I am a human, how about I just give you the letter that Ashayna gave me?” Beatrice jerked her chin down, indicating the hand in her pocket. “The letter is in my skirt. May I remove it without getting a bunch of crossbow bolts to the skull?”

  “Proceed.” General Stonemantle narrowed his eyes, his frown deepening, but he seemed logical and reasoning.

  Beatrice removed the letter and then held her hands before her—palms up, to show that she was without other weapons—the letter balanced in her open hand. She reached forward slowly and placed the letter for General Stonemantle on the table. That done, she eased back to stand beside Silverblade. She held her arms away from her sides the whole time.

  The guards relaxed marginally when General Stonemantle cracked the seal on the letter and began to read. Ashayna had written a lengthy letter, conveying everything they knew of the acolytes and the dark master they served. Beatrice only hoped his eldest daughter’s words were enough to convince the general that the acolytes were a threat that needed to be dealt with quickly.

  After long moments of disquiet and uncertainty, the general finally set down the letter. He studied Beatrice and then Silverblade, his eyes sliding back to her. “So you say you are human. I remember my youngest mentioning a peasant girl who lived in the forest. Beatrice, is it?”

  She nodded, surprised he knew her name.

  “But somehow, I doubt very much that you are human.” The general turned his attention back to Silverblade. “I’ll ask again, who and what are you?”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  W
ith a somewhat unhappy sigh, Silverblade realized he couldn’t maintain his disguise and gain General Stonemantle’s trust at the same time.

  “I’m a lupwyn scout by the name of Silverblade. I was tasked with infiltrating the human lands to study and watch. And more importantly, to see if you are a threat to the lupwyn nation. I had just concluded that humans were indeed not the threat we’d first thought, and then I had the misfortune to meet my first acolyte. My opinion changed. The acolytes are a great threat, but not just to lupwyns—they threaten all life. Perhaps humans most of all, since what the acolytes serve seems to prefer human slaves.”

  The general grunted unhappily, bringing one finger down to tap heavily upon the letter where it sat in the center of his desk. “This, written in my eldest daughter’s own hand, tells me many disturbing things. And while it also beseeches me to aid you, I will not lift one finger to help you until you tell me what has become of my daughters. The letter says very little about them.”

  Silverblade nodded. He hadn’t actually read the letter, but what the general said was probably true. From what he gleaned in the short time he’d known Ashayna, she seemed a capable leader, but wasn’t one to share details or anything too personal in nature. Her personal shields were a fortress. It might take a lifetime to be able to read her with any accuracy, Silverblade reflected.

  But General Stonemantle had known Ashayna for a lifetime, and clearly he’d picked up something in the letter that perhaps she hadn’t intended.

  “Ashayna’s letter mentions her own safety and that of my youngest, but it’s suspiciously vague in regards to Lamarra. That my oldest and youngest would leave without a word to me doesn’t come as a complete surprise. I raised them to be independent, loyal, and willing to do what must be done.” The general thumped his fist against the wooden desk top. “But Lamarra, my middle child, she is her mother’s daughter. She would not leave on some lark or at the behest of some magic wielder simply for the sake of a quest. Do not get me wrong. She is brave, but she has the soul of a leader and knows well the importance of communication.”