The twenty guards, looking a little pale, moved into a rough line between the Daggers and palace. The Dagger leader chuckled under his breath; the captain either didn’t hear or chose to ignore it. He turned and went into the palace, closing the door behind him.
One of the Daggers mumbled, “Anyone bring some cards? Looks like more hurry up and wait.”
Vesta, along with all of the warriors and guards, chuckled at the very old military joke.
Lebuin
Sweat beaded on Lebuin’s neck, his eyes remained closed as he traced the patterns, twisting and correcting the tendrils of energy with both his hands and mind. His magical senses focused on the tightly woven mana ribbons which, if he wasn’t fighting them, he would claim were impossible to make. The mana ribbons had to consume power from somewhere to exist and fight him, but he couldn’t figure out how they worked. Yet they were infused throughout the golden threads sealing Magus Vestul’s precious journal, which Ticca and her team had helped him recover recently. This was the entire reason they’d returned to Llino.
Silky strings of his own power played out from his fingertips, through the new channels created in him by the ancient Argos mana collector artifact. Instead of one main channel in each hand, like most mages, he had two at the tip of each finger and a large channel in each palm, making twenty-two streams to control.
The first of the golden threads loosened. Just as in the dozens of attempts before, the protection incantations woven into the threads reacted. Magical energies surged through the other strands that touched the failing one. Mana sparks snapped between them to reinforce the weakened thread.
Lebuin was prepared. Before they’d traveled between the threads, he speared each spark with tendrils from his closest finger. He yanked his hand back, pulling the reinforcement power into his channels.
His concentration had to split to drain the sparks, merging the power back into his own reserve and channeling the excess power to the Argos collector, while continuing to unwind the incantations. The reinforcement mana was highly concentrated, and Lebuin had to exert a lot of self-control not to jerk his hand away from the flares of pain caused by collecting them. His channels burned as he labored to absorb the dense magic.
Clenching his jaw against the pain, he opened his eyes and stared intently at the one thread he wanted to remove. It was glowing as he unraveled its incantations, allowing the excess energies to burn off as light.
He had to make sure they exhausted themselves as light only. The golden threads’ incantations were built with an exit channel that would cause them to burst into flames, melting the gold and likely destroying the precious journal if they were forcibly broken.
It was an amazing set of incantations, but he expected nothing less from a mage who’d lived for over ten thousand years, predating even the Guild of Argos Magi.
With a final white flare, the incantations in the golden thread he was draining broke, leaving it nothing more than a simple metal string, easily cut away.
Leaning back, he shook his hands. It didn’t do anything for the pain. Nonetheless, it felt good to do it.
“That looked promising.” A pleasantly feminine yet authoritative voice that gave him instant goose bumps said from behind.
When he turned around, he wasn’t surprised to see Ticca sitting with a tray of sweet rolls. He was in her room in the Blue Dolphin Inn, after all. She also had some arit in a serving carafe that was set over a tea light to keep it hot. She stood and poured him a fresh cup, putting it and some sweet rolls on the table next to him.
He raised his eyebrow as he grabbed one of the rolls. He had to stop and stretch for a moment. His back ached, and his arms felt like lead weights.
“I thought you said you didn’t do the domestic stuff.”
Ticca flopped back into her chair. “Well, that was before I became a general. Now, I sort of have to do it to set a good example,” she said with only a hint of irony.
Lebuin savored the pastry. It was infused with sharre, and the sweet, energizing wine warmed his mouth and throat as he ate it. Hunger grabbed at him and he swallowed three more bites rapidly, washing them down with the overly bittersweet arit, whose flavor made him chew the air, wiping his tongue on the roof of his mouth. His face contorted uncontrollably by the bitter, sharp flavor assaulting his palate.
The taste completely killing his hunger, he looked at the thick, warm arit left in his cup. It stuck to the sides like syrup. He set the cup down.
“How on Yur can you drink it like that?”
“Well, it wasn’t so sweet about six marks back. But I’ve had fresh brought up every couple of marks, and I’ve been mixing them together. Afraid it got a little concentrated. I actually like it.”
To prove her point, she drained her cup and filled it again.
He looked at the dark windows. “Six marks back? What time is it?”
Ticca smirked and pointed to her packed gear. “About nine-thirtyish,” she said in a conspiratorial tone.
Blinking and still moving his tongue around, he took Ticca in. Normally he had to control his face around Ticca, but he didn’t worry about it this time with the taste of the arit contorting his features. When they’d started together, he thought of her as just an employee. Then in the forest, she had become more of a big sister. Now he felt a soft pulling towards her, as his mind entertained the idea that they might yet become more than friends.
He couldn’t imagine any man not wanting to be with her. She was beautiful, even in the simple clothing she was wearing. Her chestnut hair had the shimmer of being freshly washed, and was held back elegantly with a silver comb. Her dark red shirt, a fuzzy corduroy made of hemp, clung loosely, showing off her figure and accenting her hair perfectly. His eyes drifted down to linger on her skin-tight grey leather leggings that showed off her muscular legs. Even though he didn’t recognize them he knew she was wearing Kliasa’s wondrous boots. The boots had shifted to appear as brown knee-high riding boots, with a series of buckles that added to her appearance.
“Did it really take me all day to break that one thread?” The window was not shuttered as he first thought, which meant she wasn’t playing a trick on him. Her smirk grew larger. “What?”
Laughing, Ticca said, “You didn’t ask what day it was.”
He stood and walked over to the window. Two moons were visible, and the street was still busy. “It’s Martidi.” Her smile widened as his thoughts raced around.
Could I really have been working longer than I knew? It’s dangerous to spend too long working with incantations. The brain can burn out.
“No. It’s Merdi. You’ve been at that almost two full days.” Her tone was light, but serious enough that he wasn’t able to tell if she was playing a prank on him. “Is it open?” she asked, looking back at the journal.
She stood and stepped over to examine the journal on the table. As she got close, he caught the intoxicating scent of imperial jasmine, mixed with knife oil and the other processed animal oils she used to treat her leather gear.
“Um...well...not exactly.”
“It doesn’t look any different. Did you do anything at all?”
His heart jumped and he felt his face flush with heat. Before he thought about it, he’d stepped over smartly, back straight, to loudly tap one of the dozen threads sealing the journal with his forefinger. “This one has been broken. We could cut it off if we wanted to.”
Ticca was predictably unimpressed by his sharp tone and commanding posture. Her mouth tightened as she glared at him. “Are you serious? It will take cycles for you to open it at this rate.”
Sighing, he slumped back against the wall at the sound of disappointment in her voice. Finally, he shrugged. “I didn’t make these, and Vestul said even Argos would be surprised by this. Vestul could have spent years creating them. It might get easier as I g
et more practice. I can’t find the key to these incantations. Every thread is completely unique.”
As he flexed his fingers, he said, “I don’t think a normal Magus could do this. If it weren’t for the changes to my magic channels that artifact made to me, I wouldn’t have the ability to fend off the defenses. They all work together to protect each other.”
“Are they alive?” Her tone was level but she shifted a bit further away from the journal as she asked.
“Not exactly. But they react with some pretty canny actions.”
Ticca went back to her chair, and he suppressed the urge to say something incredibly stupid in his defense.
Maybe I should just tell her how I feel and let her reject me, like all the other ladies. At least I could stop romanticizing about the possibility. She doesn’t seem to notice what she does to me. His heart ached as he recalled how she looked at Risy when she thought no one else would notice. No, I should stay silent. She means too much to me as a friend. I’ll live with that friendship if I must.
His stomach made a loud rumble and he felt the hunger returning. The tray of rolls was in front of Ticca but he didn’t feel like stepping over just yet.
Glancing at his stomach, she asked, “Can you do this on the road? Everything is ready to go. I wanted to leave the Blue Dolphin this morning to go have a look at the power source you said Finnba was using against us in Algan. It took you longer than I thought. We can leave in the morning if you think you’re up to it.”
After a short pause, he shrugged. “I’m not sure. Has it really been two days?”
Ticca dropped back into her chair with an air of disappointment. “Yeah. Although now that I see how much of a fight you had, it isn’t as funny as I thought.” Her lips formed a cute pout that made him want to kiss her.
He felt his face heating up and looked away before she could see that he was blushing. A knock at the door came to distract her, thankfully. Ticca jumped towards it, pulling her dagger.
She’s expecting to be attacked in the Blue Dolphin? Is something else going on she hasn’t told me about yet?
As she got close to the door, she called out, “Pass?”
“What are you talking about?” said the muffled, confused, and distinctly Nigan voice.
Ticca sheathed her dagger and opened the door. “I was thinking we should have some passwords. You know, something like, ‘Yeah, it’s me, and all is good,’ or ‘It’s me, and there’s a knife to my neck.’”
Nigan laughed and stepped in carrying a new leather pack that complemented his burgundy doublet and black loose trousers excellently. His black dagger was prominently displayed on a medium brown leather belt that was just right for his muscular frame. He dropped the pack beside the door and turned to face Ticca. “Okay, sure. But shouldn’t you let us know what these passcodes are before you start using them?”
Runa-Illa pushed past them using a platter of food like a battering ram, in a blue and grey tunic pulled tight to show off her figure by a rope-like black leather belt. The belt’s ends dangled down, drawing attention to her tight black leggings. She walked over to Lebuin, putting the tray down in front of him. Looking up directly into his face, she said sternly, “You missed dinner, breakfast, lunch, and dinner again. So eat.”
“You mean she wasn’t joking?” His stomach was already rumbling even louder at the proximity of the steaming meats and vegetables.
Pointing to his chair, Illa said, “I don’t see you eating yet. No answers until you’re eating.”
Lebuin laughed and grabbed some of the meat, taking a large bite. The savory juices streamed over his tongue and down his throat, washing away all traces of the nasty arit flavor and leaving only the salty tang of well-seasoned roast. I love the Dolphin’s cooks! With that first bite, his hunger roared back, taking over. He sat down in front of the food and dug in with gusto.
Looking motherly, Illa nodded and sat in the chair next to Ticca. “If Ticca told you that you’d been in a trance for almost two days, then no, she wasn’t joking. I felt you finishing your task and brought this up.”
Nigan sat on the wide arm of the reading chair Illa was sitting in. “You know, a guy can get jealous of the fact that one moment he’s having a nice time dancing, and then his girl turns and walks away with a purpose not related to him.”
Ticca’s jaw dropped. “You were dancing?”
After a little huff, Illa said, “More like shuffling from foot to foot. Dancing would require some form of grace.”
Nigan’s head rolled back as he laughed. “Oh, you’re so lucky I have a sense of humor.”
Eyes narrowing Illa glared at Nigan. “Or vice versa.”
Holding up her hand, Ticca said, “Okay, all jesting aside, is everything ready for tomorrow?”
As Nigan filled a mug, he answered, “Yep, horses and gear are ready. The squad is prepped, and we even have Genne’s kitchen preparing an early breakfast for us.” He started to take a drink, but then held the cup in front of him with a look of shock as he sloshed the thick liquid around in the cup. “Uh, you’re drinking this?”
Ticca smirked. “Yes. Why? Too strong for you?”
Without trying it, Nigan put the cup down. “I’ll wait for something less dangerous.”
Pointing to Nigan’s pack, Ticca said, “That looks ready. If everything is still going on the original schedule, the assembly has to be voting soon, if it hasn’t already. I want to be clear of any city before they make their decision.”
Illa asked, “Do you think they’ll make a decision this fast?”
Ticca rubbed her crinkled brows. “They should’ve started debating this week or last week. Duke won’t let them discuss it for long. Besides, it’s a pretty clear case. To be honest, I’m surprised we haven’t heard a proclamation or something yet. I thought it would’ve been decided in a day.”
Between bites, Lebuin said, “Yeah, well, they’re politicians, and they’ll want to talk about it. I bet we have another week or two.”
“Well,” Nigan said, “in any case, I’ll check on the guards and then get some rest.” He stood and turned to Illa. “Coming?”
Illa checked Lebuin and saw that he was still chewing. He nodded, indicating he was fine. Illa stood and headed out with Nigan.
After they left, Ticca leaned against the closed door. Lebuin was taking another bite when Nigan’s words clicked in. “Guards?”
Staring at the floor with her eyebrows furrowed, Ticca paused, then looked over at Lebuin. “We decided that even here, the Nhia-Samri would be willing to strike at us for that journal, so we have guards inside and out.”
Someone started pounding on the door, and Ditani’s voice yelled through the metal door, “Ticca, we must leave with all haste!”
She spun, drawing her dagger and opening the door. A fight could clearly be heard. Nigan and Illa were still in the hallway, facing the stairs, weapons out. Ditani’s hands and arms glistened with blood. Lebuin jumped up, grabbing the journal.
Ticca looked Ditani over. “Are you injured? How many?”
“It’s minor. This blood is theirs. Twelve in the main room, disguised. Three tried to pass the stair with me behind. Tuage and Carda had asked for their keys. One gutted Tuage before anyone could react. Those three we killed, but there are more. A hard fight ensued in the main room. Genne cut one in half as he made for the stairs. When last I saw, Daggers had the advantage.”
Ticca cursed and ran for her gear. “Are they Nhia-Samri?”
Turning towards the room he shared with Lebuin, Ditani shouted back, “They aren’t using odassi, yet they fight as devils!”
Lebuin rushed out of the room to follow Ditani. He heard shuffling footsteps behind him, and before going around the bend, he looked back. Epton and Carda were fighting as they came up the stairs backwards. Nigan dug in his pouch and s
hoved something at Illa. “Get the gear! We can’t leave without it.”
Lebuin didn’t wait to see what happened. His heart raced, and his stomach burned from the undigested dinner as it combined with fatigue and adrenaline rushing into his system.
Jumping into his room, just behind Ditani, he saw everything was packed. “Everything is ready?”
Ditani nodded and tossed him the magical pack he’d inherited from Magus Vestul. Catching the pack was easy, as no matter how much it carried it only weighed a few pounds. There was no time to hide the journal in it, so he shoved it in quickly tying the pack closed.
The pair of them rushed back out to the hallway, joining the team. He took a quick count. “Where are Malla, Sabri, Coedy, and Persa?”
Nigan, already wearing the leather pack he’d brought into Ticca’s room, was helping Illa strap on her pack. “They’re defending the base of the stairs. Except Coedy, who I think is in the stables. There are a handful of senior Daggers still here fighting with them.” When he finished he grabbed two leather bags from the floor and looked at Ticca with a raised eyebrow.
Pushing her way to the stairs, Ticca grabbed Risy, who was nearby, and pushed him downward. “Risy, support them and give us at least five, and then use route three or five. We’ll meet up with you in the woods.” Ticca’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I think the assembly vote just went down. Pretty sure I know the way it went, too.”
Risy grinned, tossed his pack to the side of the hall, and rushed down the stairs, weapons in hand.
Ticca raced up the steps three at a time. Hands grabbed Lebuin and pushed him upwards as his team of Daggers took defensive positions behind. Forcing his legs to move, he followed on Ticca’s heels with Ditani pushing him to move faster, Nigan and Illa close behind.
Thread Skein (Golden Threads Trilogy Book 3) Page 2