by Darian Smith
Chapter Thirty-Six
Listening at doors had been a staple of Ylani's trade during her time as a spy, and being a politician in a country that hated her people had not lessened that tendency any. She often found she could learn more from an eavesdropped conversation than she did from a frank discussion in person—particularly when the topic at hand was not strictly one she had any right to participate in. The danger, as she was all too aware, was in knowing what to do with the information when you had it.
She paced the Blue Rose hallway, the last conversation she'd overheard playing in her mind. Brannon's mentor had been so sure of his assessment. So certain the wounds on the frost wolf victims were from a weapon rather than claws. But if that were the case, there had been a deliberate attempt to mislead Brannon's team. And Ylani herself had unwittingly been a part of that misdirection when she'd identified the frost wolf chrysalis.
She traced the wall between the door to Magus Nycol's room and the door to Marrol's with her fingers as she walked. It appeared smooth and unbroken to the eye, but an illusion couldn't fool the sense of touch. Her fingers bumped over the hidden doorjamb and she paused. There were three doors on the right of the hallway but only two doors on the left. Here, behind a spell, was the missing third door to the room that held their secrets.
She pulled her hand back and curled her fingers into a fist. Hooded secrets. She ought to have been free of such things by now. The war was long over, yet here she was stuck between two countries trying to keep them from each other's throats and doing the best she could to do right by both. It was no wonder Brannon had avoided talking to her at the hospital. He obviously knew she'd taken the swords even if he couldn't prove it, and now with this new knowledge . . . she chewed her lip. Things were going to get awkward.
“Ylani?” Marrol's voice came from behind her. He'd climbed the stairs while she paced. “What are you doing here?”
She straightened her back and put on a smile before she turned. “Waiting for you, of course. Do I need a reason to catch up with my brother?”
“Of course not.” He unlocked the door to his suite. “Let's not stand in the hallway though.”
He ushered her inside. The suite looked no different to when she'd been there with Brannon and his searchers. She glanced toward the wall where the door to the adjoining suite was hidden by another illusion spell. Somewhere beyond that spell were the Nilarian steel swords. The question was, what else? “How much longer will you stay in town?” she asked.
Marrol shrugged. “A little while. If we leave right away it will look suspicious to your friend the Bloodhawk.”
Ylani couldn't help a bark of laughter. “He's suspicious already. He just can't prove anything yet.”
Marrol's eyes narrowed. “Nor will he.”
“Perhaps.” Ylani paced to the window and looked out. There was a guard in the street. She couldn't tell if he was watching the Blue Rose or simply there to protect the populace from the dangers lurking among them. “Have you decided what you'll take back to Nilar? Brannon was right to ask about that. You'd never travel that far without something to sell when you arrive.”
“What would you suggest?” Marrol shrugged. “This country has very little to offer, if you ask me.”
“I haven't been home in a long time,” Ylani admitted. “But I imagine there must be something we need. Products that fall through the cracks due to the labor shortage?”
“Or labor itself,” Marrol said. “There's always slaves.”
Ylani felt her chest contract. “There are no slaves in Kalanon.”
“Relax, sis. It was a joke.” He smirked.
Ylani watched him closely, willing the Instinct to give her something. Just a hint. It had always been difficult to sense anything from others who had the gift and now, with suspicion gnawing at her like a vulture, there was nothing to relieve her concern. “Not a funny one,” she said after a long gap. “There've been some horrible things happening here. Children going missing. It's sad.”
“Well, bad things happen to bad people.” Marrol shrugged. “The gods love balance.”
“These aren't bad people, Marrol.”
“Tell that to the men and women at the bottom of their river,” he said. “And don't tell me it was war. They drowned our soldiers and gave them no chance to surrender.”
Ylani traced the stitching on her skirt with a finger. She'd felt much the same when she'd first moved here. Before she'd gotten to know some of the Kalans personally. Before she'd heard how they felt about what Nilar had done to them. “It was war. I take no pleasure in the plight of children just because their parents were on the other side.”
“Yeah, well.” Marrol looked away. “I do.”
Ylani's breath seemed to tremble in her lungs. “They're saying it's a frost wolf. They even found a chrysalis. You know, like the one in the museum back home.”
“Really?” His voice stayed mild. “I'm surprised one would come to such a populated area.”
“So was I.” Ylani hesitated. So many questions burned at the back of her throat. She wished her tongue could remain still, but she had to know. “Whatever happened to the chrysalis at the museum?”
Marrol shrugged. “Went missing, I believe. I guess someone stole it.”
Ylani swallowed. “That's a pity.”
“Perhaps you should ask your new friends for their one to replace it.”
“I suppose I could,” she said. “It does look remarkably similar. Identical, even.”
Marrol folded his arms and said nothing. The gloved hand with its prosthetic fingers rested prominently on his bicep. Fingers that held three hidden blades. Like claws.
Ylani forced her face into a cheerful expression. “I should go,” she said. “The less they see of us together, the better, really. Send word before you leave Alapra though. I'll want to say goodbye.”
Marrol nodded. “Of course.”
“And if you need any help shifting the . . . merchandise.” She nodded toward the hidden door.
“We'll be fine,” Marrol said. “We've got the skullduggery handled. Go be our ambassador.”
Ylani struggled not to run as she crossed the room and reached for the door handle. She held her breath, half expecting the touch of the three hidden blades on her shoulder, pulling her back. She only let herself breathe again when the latch clicked behind her and she was back in the hallway.
She'd been a fool to trust family so completely. She saw that now. The new war that waged inside her was whether family loyalty or moral integrity should win the day. She'd always allowed herself to bend the rules for her country. Now she had to face the fact there were some rules she would never wish to bend. Even for Nilar. Even for her brother. But when those rules were being bent by others, what was she willing to sacrifice to stop it?
She hurried toward the stairs and heard the click of another latch as she passed Nycol's suite. She pressed her ear to the door and listened.
She heard a door close inside, the one to the hidden adjoining suite that linked Nycol's rooms with her brother's. Then Marrol's voice.
“Have you gotten what you needed out of that mage yet? I think we're going to need to leave soon.”
“Not really,” Nycol replied. “The older the mind, the harder it is to mesmerize. He's hard enough to keep asleep, let alone have him dopey enough to get answers out of. Why?”
“My sister could be a problem.”
“Is that your Instinct talking or paranoia?”
“Neither. I know my sister. She suspects. And she's lived here too long.”
There was a long pause and then the mage sighed. “Fine. We knew this could happen. I've given you the help you asked for, but if they come for you now, you're on your own.”
Ylani ran for the stairs. She too felt very much on her own.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Brannon felt sorry for the palace guards who had accompanied Ula to the war room. In the aftermath of the fight, it looked more like a battlefield itself than a place fo
r planning a conflict. The serving woman's body still lay on the map table like the victim of some terrible surgery gone wrong. Fressin's corpse, now free of the kaluki, had withered and dried, natural decay reclaiming what it had lost.
Brannon stood gingerly and rubbed his throat. He'd half expected his larynx to be crushed after the pressure Fressin had exerted on him, but the structures felt intact and the pain and dizziness were already fading.
Ula eyed him and winked. “You be strong. Earth spirits still like you.”
Brannon shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the pain in his ribs. “Not very strong,” he said. He kept his breathing shallow. He'd need to have someone bind them while they healed.
The Djin woman crossed the room in a few steps. She laid her hands on his chest and cocked her head to the side as if listening. “Pfft,” she said. “Be healed soon. Hour, maybe two. Against Risen you still very strong. Kaluki bad. You be . . .” She hesitated and wrinkled her nose, searching for the word. “Champion.” She patted his chest. “Kaluk champion. King's Champion.”
Brannon's gaze drifted to the broken statue. Somehow his throat had withstood a grip that had crushed stone. He swallowed. The pain was almost gone.
She grinned. “Is good you be okay.”
“Thanks. It's good to see you too. Why are you . . . ?” He trailed off. “Of course. The Djin.”
Her grin faded. “Yes. Prior Shool believes the gift the spirits give you be bad.” She gestured to Fressin's body. “He do this bad thing.”
“He's not the only one.”
Marbella's body lay on the floor. There was a wound in her temple where she’d stuck the corner of the table. Her eyes were open and fixed in a glassy stare. Taran was kneeling beside her. He held her hand cupped between both of his. He hadn't spoken since the two of them had fallen.
Brannon crossed over, bent down and closed the dead woman's eyes. He stood next to the young priest for a long silent moment, unsure of the words to choose.
“I didn't mean to kill her,” Taran said at last.
Brannon touched his shoulder. “You saved my life. I know you cared for her, but she was dangerous. Her mind was lost a long time ago.”
“Like mine.” Taran hung his head.
“Not yet.” Brannon squeezed the shoulder. “We'll get you the stardust. I'm sealing off this city. We'll find the Father of Starlight and I will personally take his supply and give it to you.” He gestured to the palace guard. The man's face was pale but he stood to attention. “You there. Pass that message on to your commander. No one is to go in or out of Alapra without my say-so. Especially a man with gray hair and an opal necklace. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!”
Taran sniffed and wiped his face with his sleeve. “You won't find him,” he said. “Not if he doesn't want to be found.”
Brannon held out his hand in an offer to help him up. “We'll see about that.”
Taran took the hand and got to his feet. “Yeah,” he said. “We will.”
“Where is the wizard?” Ula asked, stepping gingerly around the corpse.
“Draeson? Late as usual.” Brannon rolled his eyes.
Ula frowned. “And Ambassador Ylani? Shool might attack her also.”
As if summoned by the mention of her name, the ambassador herself stepped into the room. “I can take care of myself,” she said. Her eyes widened as she took in the carnage. “Which might be more than can be said for you boys. What happened here?”
“It's a long story.”
Ylani chewed her lower lip. “I have one of those for you myself.” She lifted the hem of her skirt and stepped around the bodies. Somehow Brannon caught the vanilla and spice of her perfume even over the metallic scent of blood in the room. She kissed Ula on the cheek. “It's good to see you again.”
Ula smiled. “For me also.”
“You didn't come here for pleasantries, Ylani,” Brannon said.
She sighed. “No. I was looking for you, Sir Brannon.” She smiled at him but her eyes were sad. She held her hands out towards him with her wrists crossed as if ready to be tied. “I'm afraid I may have to turn myself in.”
An hour later, armed with what Ylani had told them, Brannon and his group approached the Blue Rose. The sun was setting and shadows were long. The street lamps had not yet been lit, but the house windows on either side of the street were aglow. The Blue Rose, however, was dark and quiet: no lights, no customers, no music.
Taran popped a dried leaf into his mouth and chewed it. He tapped Brannon on the shoulder. “It's empty?”
“Yeah,” Brannon said. “Something's wrong.”
Mala, the Blue Rose manager, was at the gate. She waved them away as they approached. “We're closed, Sir Brannon. Unless . . . are you here to help?”
“Help with what?” Brannon looked up and down the street. “We had a guard stationed here. I don't see him.”
Mala flapped her hand in the direction of the building. “He's inside. One of our guests saw a frost wolf in the building. He went in after we evacuated everyone.”
“Who saw the frost wolf?” Brannon's voice was sharp. “Did you?”
“No. It was the Nilarian chap who's been here a couple of months.”
“You mean Marrol?” Ylani gripped Mala's arm. “I thought he'd only arrived recently.”
Mala pulled her arm free. “Yes, Marrol. He's been here a while. Pays every week like clockwork.”
“He lied to me from the start,” Ylani said.
Brannon swore and pushed past Mala, lengthening his steps as he strode toward the front steps. “He's been playing all of us. There is no frost wolf. It's a fake to throw us off. With the building empty there's no one to see him carry his cargo out. He's making a run for it.”
It was eerie in the foyer with no guests or staff. Drinks were abandoned half-full in the bar and musical instruments lay silent on the small stage. The doors to the garden were open and curtains fluttered in the breeze like ghosts. He gestured for the guards they'd brought with them to fan out and secure the lower level. It would be their job to make sure no one got out if the confrontation went badly.
Brannon had never seen the Blue Rose empty. Even in the smallest hours of the morning, there would be colorful lights, music, and friendly staff to provide drinks to those still enjoying themselves or a room for those who needed to rest. For a price, of course. The Blue Rose was a quality establishment.
“Mala must have been scared to close this place down,” Brannon said. He moved slowly, checking every shadow for signs of life. Ylani, Ula, and Taran followed. For all their difficulties of late, Brannon felt better having them there. “She's losing a lot of business.”
“Marrol can be very convincing,” Ylani said.
“Are you sure you want to be part of this?” Brannon asked her. “He is your brother after all.”
“I know.” Ylani's voice was soft and she hugged herself, shivering. “But if I'm right . . .” She looked away. “You can protect family from almost anything but you can't protect them from themselves.”
“What if you're wrong?”
She turned back to him with a bitter smile. “Then I suppose you'll find your swords after all, Brannon. Won't Aldan be pleased?”
He paused at the foot of the stairs. “You know I don't care about the swords, right? I care that you're okay.”
Her smile shifted and softened. She nodded. “Thank you.”
A loud scraping sound on the floor above caught their attention. Brannon held a finger to his lips. They crept upward as quietly as they could.
Brannon couldn't help thinking how different this wide staircase was to the last one he'd crept up in the dark. These steps were wide and well maintained, thick luxurious carpet muffled their steps and beautiful artwork hung on the wall. While the lights in the Blue Rose were unlit, there was enough coming in through windows from nearby to see by.
They found two large wooden crates on the second floor landing. When he looked up, Brannon saw Marrol at the
top of the stairs with yet another of the crates. The Nilarian locked eyes with Brannon. He hesitated, twisted the crate to point toward Brannon's group, and let it go. The crate rattled down the stairs, a battering ram of heavy wood.
“Out of the way!” Brannon threw his arm around Ylani and pulled her to the side of the stairs. They pressed themselves hard against the balustrade as the crate hit the landing and slid past. Brannon felt the brush of wind as it did so. Ula and Taran jumped back onto the lower flight of steps and the crate missed them by a good arm-length. It crashed into the wall and stopped dead.
“This place be less welcoming than last time I was here,” Ula muttered.
Marrol ran off and disappeared into the shadows at the top of the stairs.
“Ula, Taran, see what's in those crates, and when the rest of the guard comes, send them up.” Brannon drew his sword and started up the stairs two at a time. “Ylani, with me.”
Marrol was out of sight by the time Brannon and Ylani reached the upper floor. There was just the echo of a slamming door to indicate he'd been there.
Brannon looked at the doors to the rooms he knew Marrol and his friend had occupied. “Which room do you think he's in?”
Ylani pointed to the blank wall between the doors. “The middle one. There's a third adjoining room between the two. The mage keeps it hidden. He'll be in there. I'll show you.”
Brannon swore. “Be careful. I don't like going up against a mage without Draeson.”
Ylani frowned, her eyes distant. “Nycol's not here. I'm not sure where he is.”
Brannon kept his sword up. “This is one of those things you just know?”
“The Instinct. Yeah.”
“Be careful anyway.” Whatever strange abilities Ylani had, Brannon wasn't ready to lower his guard on their say-so.
Ylani reached toward the blank wall as if reaching for a door handle, then paused. “Please don't use that sword if you don't have to. As you said, he is my brother.” Then without waiting for a response, she turned the invisible handle and a section of the wall opened up.
Brannon peered inside. There was a lantern lit in the center of the room and the light showed a space that looked more like a warehouse than a bedroom. The luxury furnishings of the Blue Rose had been pushed aside and the space was filled with large wooden crates. They were long enough to hold a sword and deep enough for a person to hide inside.