“Yes, but I believe there may be a link.”
“Oh?”
“You’re aware of reports of orcs, ogres, and trolls making preparations for something?”
“Yes.”
She blew out a relieved breath, glad he already knew about the reports. How long had they been coming in? Had Jev known and not said anything to her?
“The trolls of Borc’tol appear to be spearheading it,” Targyon added.
Zenia nodded. The reports hadn’t said that specifically, but there had been mentions of troll emissaries spotted in the main orc and ogre cities.
“I was thinking that Kor may be a potential target if they align with each other and seek to extend the boundaries of their kingdoms.”
She waited to see if Targyon would express skepticism similar to Rhi’s.
But Targyon nodded. “We have a lot to attract would-be conquerors, trollish and otherwise. Invasion attempts have happened often in past centuries, and potential enemies may see us as weak right now.”
“Yes.” Zenia sagged with relief, so glad he was on the same level with her. “Do you think that’s likely? Is that why you invited dwarves to come to the city?”
“It is. I want to establish alliances that have frayed in the last couple of generations. We’ve offended the dwarves the least with our isolationist ways of the last twenty years, so I reached out to them first. I’ve also sent messages to the Taziir, but I’m not surprised they haven’t responded. The war is too recent, the deaths too fresh. They may have dropped my messages straight into the fire without reading them.” Targyon tilted his head. “I discussed some of this with Jev, but he didn’t mention— You think there’s a link to Master Grindmor’s kidnapping?”
“It’s just a hunch right now, I admit, but it seems like someone who had something to gain from an upheaval in the kingdom may have wanted to ensure relations remained strained between the dwarves and us.”
Targyon glanced to the door as a servant walked in with a coffee tray.
“Stuffed gort leaves, boiled eggs, and warmed flat bread are on the way, Sire,” the servant said. He poured two mugs of coffee and backed out of the room while bowing.
“It’s an interesting idea,” Targyon said, “though my understanding of the situation thus far is that the guilds—the Fifth Dragon, in particular—originally stole Grindmor’s tools and may be behind the kidnapping.”
“That’s still possible, Sire. The guilds may believe they have something to gain from an upheaval in Kor.”
“True. Do you have a list of people you believe have the most to gain?”
Should she have? She’d just come up with her idea. And she’d been organizing Jev’s desk. Damn, maybe she should have come up with more than her rambling thoughts before approaching Targyon.
“Not yet,” she reluctantly admitted, “but I could work on a list today.”
“You could also sleep today.” He smiled faintly.
She did look tired and rumpled, didn’t she? “Isn’t time imperative? The dwarves are on their way, right?”
“They are. I just don’t want my new Crown Agent captains to burn themselves out their first month on the job.”
“I’ll be fine, Sire. I’ll work on the list and then get some rest. I just wanted to see—well, you seem at least as well informed as Jev and I.”
“Do I? Does that mean I’m impressive or that you two need to work harder?”
“Er.” She had been about to ask him if he knew anything more, but now, she was reluctant to admit to their ignorance. Did he already see her work as substandard? Because she’d only now realized what was going on overseas?
“Sorry.” Targyon winced and held up a hand. “I was trying to be, ah… delightfully humorous. Charming, even. It comes so easily for Jev. I, on the other hand, always get flustered around women.”
“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to Zenia that Targyon, even if he’d only recently been appointed to this supreme office, might have such feelings of inadequacy. He was only twenty-two, she reminded herself, and as far as being charming with the opposite sex… she could empathize. She hadn’t the foggiest idea how to do it. If she actually wanted to find someone to marry and father her children, she might have to put some effort into learning. Jev had been… well, he’d instigated everything, all the charm, while she’d been busy trying to arrest him.
“I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t good at your job,” Targyon added. “Or that I’m impressive. Hm, I usually save this for Jev. He was my commanding officer, you know. He was used to molding insecure and waffly young officers.”
“Waffly, Sire?”
“It’s a word. An adjective based on waffle. To speak equivocally about. I know words, just not women.” He smiled tentatively. “Do you think I can find a woman that likes that?”
“I’ll be flabbergasted if you can’t find a woman, Sire,” Zenia said carefully, perplexed as to how the conversation had drifted to this subject.
“Because I’m king now or because of my passion for words?”
“Uhm.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Targyon sipped from his coffee mug, then cleared his throat. “All right. A list, Captain. Bring me a list of people and organizations who have something significant to gain by the kingdom being distracted with a war on its shores. Or by the possible reform that could result if we were able to repel an invasion attempt.” He frowned and shook his head. “As for whether I know more than you know, I’m afraid not. All of my intelligence comes out of your office. I keep waiting for the spirit of the Fire Founder—I was born under the Fire Dragon’s stars, you see—to send me visions during the night, but all I’ve experienced in bed so far is learning to sleep in fancy pajamas with a fabric canopy dangling over my head.”
“Yes, Sire.” Already thinking of the list she had to make, and where she would go to do research to make it, she only half heard the words about a vision.
She pushed herself away from the table and headed for the door, determined to have a list for Targyon by the end of the day. She paused with her hand on the knob, realizing he hadn’t dismissed her. Targyon didn’t seem to have noticed. He was studying his coffee mug with his legs folded cross-legged in his chair. He looked forlorn and maybe a little lost, and she felt a twinge of sympathy. He was far too young for this job. Finding a word-loving woman should be all he needed to worry about at this age.
She almost said something, but she didn’t know what words of assurance wouldn’t sound like a lecture or mothering. He might be young, but he was the king. Even if that was new, he’d been zyndar all his life, and he wouldn’t want to be advised by some common woman.
Soundlessly, she curtsied and slipped out to do her duty.
Jev stood up as Lornysh rolled, grabbed his glowing sword, and jumped to his feet, turning to face the newcomers. Jev knew he was injured and exhausted after battling the golem, but Lornysh didn’t let any sign of it show.
“Hello, Iridium,” Jev said, also striving not to let his soggy weariness show.
The Fifth Dragon leader strolled into the storage cavern, flanked by six armed men. She wore deep blue silks that could have been a dress or a nightgown. Given the late—or was it now considered early?—hour, the latter seemed more likely.
“Did I wake you? My apologies.” He groped for a way to take control of the situation. He had intended to sneak into her inner sanctum in a position of power, or at least with the advantage of surprise. But now, she had the advantage, her men all leveling pistols or rifles in Jev’s direction.
Actually, most of them were pointed in Lornysh’s direction. He crouched, glaring at the men as he held his flaming orange sword aloft.
“Jevlain Dharrow,” Iridium drawled, touching her lush, dark hair and smiling, though it appeared strained. Her gaze flicked past his shoulder and toward the water. Looking for her magical sentinel?
Jev wondered who she’d managed to get to conjure the golem. Lornysh hadn’t mentioned what kind of mage mi
ght be capable of it. An elf?
“Your visit was unexpected,” Iridium said. “And am I right in assuming you deprived me of a keg of black powder? And a golem?”
“Actually, my elven friend says the golem is likely only being quiet now.”
“Quiescent,” Lornysh corrected without taking his eyes from the guards.
“Quietly,” Jev said, offering a smile of his own for Iridium. He’d come to ask her for a favor—no, to barter information—so he had better use as much charisma as he could muster. “As for the keg, we assumed you’d want to test your black powder before deploying it to… where is it going? Did you mention it?”
One of her elegant eyebrows rose. “I did not.”
“Huh. Well, it’s convenient that you came out here to see us, as you’re the reason I’m here. I wish to speak with you.”
“You’ve reconsidered my offer?”
“Which offer was that? To sleep with you and give you several of my family’s dragon tears? That offer wasn’t overly palatable to me at the time.”
“But you’ve reconsidered?” Iridium kept smiling at him, but she also sent a few speculative looks at Lornysh.
Jev couldn’t tell if she thought him someone she should hire for her guild or someone she should invite to bed. Or both.
“I haven’t,” Jev said. “But I have some information you may be interested in. And I believe you have information I may be interested in. I came to propose a trade.” He wondered if there was any way he could glean where Grindmor was and what Iridium planned to do with those kegs. Blow her way into some zyndar’s castle to steal his dragon tears?
“You propose a trade? My dear zyndar, you’re in a rather disadvantaged position to propose anything.” She waved at his clothing, which was dripping a small lake onto the rocky bank at his feet. “I could simply have you tortured to learn everything you know.”
“A disadvantage? My lady, do you not recognize a deadly elven warden when you see one?” Jev extended a hand toward Lornysh, pleased that he was indeed oozing deadliness. Somehow, the water his clothes dripped wasn’t that noticeable, perhaps because of the glowing sword. “He singlehandedly quiescent-ed your unsanctioned-in-the-city water golem.”
“If I give you the elven word for that term,” Lornysh muttered out of the side of his mouth, “will you quit mangling it?”
“Unlikely,” Jev murmured back. He raised his voice for Iridium and added, “Do you truly think six puny humans will be a match for him?”
The puny humans, all over six feet tall and well-muscled, grumbled among themselves.
Iridium’s smile didn’t fade, but she did consider Lornysh again, her gaze lingering this time.
Jev didn’t truly know if Lornysh could, with his modest help, get the jump on those men and defeat them before they could shoot him, but he was betting on Iridium not knowing that either. Even before the war had started, the Taziir had earned a reputation of being extremely difficult to kill, and Jev was positive stories of their mages and wardens had floated back across the Anchor Sea. Few of Kor’s inhabitants would question their deadliness.
“What do you propose, Jev dear?” Iridium asked.
“You tell me where Master Grindmor is, and I’ll tell you about a hole in your security I found.”
“A hole you just made?” she asked dryly, glancing toward the water.
“Another one.” He almost added that her rivals might even now be spying on them, but that would be giving too much away too soon. Besides, on the chance she already knew about the gap in the wall, he didn’t want to share his information until she shared hers.
Her eyelids drooped, and she regarded him through her lashes. “Your word as zyndar that you honestly believe you have valuable information I’ll care about and don’t already know?”
Damn, she knew how to pull his strings. Not wanting to be foresworn, Jev chose his words carefully.
“I honestly believe I have information you’ll want to know. I think it’s unlikely you already know it, but I can’t read minds.”
“No? Perhaps you should have brought your pretty girlfriend with the rock instead of Points over there.”
“She doesn’t like speaking with you as much as I do.” Jev refused to be baited by the girlfriend comment, and he also refused to let the fact that it wasn’t true bother him.
“Odd.”
“Yes. Are you interested, or shall my friend and I leave and offer my information to some of your rivals?” Not the ones, Jev added to himself, that already knew about the spy hole.
Iridium contemplated Lornysh, contemplated her guards, then thoughtfully tapped the dragon tear hanging from her neck. The lighting was too dim for Jev to see the carving, but if it was the same one she’d worn before, it held a dagger and would enhance her combat abilities. Though she wasn’t pointing any weapons at them, she wore a weapons belt around her nightgown, a mace and pistol hanging from it.
Jev mentally added a seventh fighter to the Lornysh equation and decided he would, if she started a fight, go for her, since she probably had the most trick chips in her bag, and leave his friend to deal with the others.
Iridium must not have found the odds as superior as she originally believed, or maybe she was simply curious what Jev knew, for she finally said, “I agree to a trade of information with you: all I know about the dwarf gem cutter for all you know about… whatever it is you think I’ll care about.” She smirked. “But you will share your information first.”
“No.”
“No?” She genuinely seemed surprised by the rejection.
“You have my word as zyndar that I’ll tell you what I know after you tell me what you know. I haven’t yet seen anything to show me how good your word is, so we do it my way.”
Her smirk turned into a sneer. “I see. Because you were born in a castle, you think your word is better than mine.”
“I have proven I honor my word over and over all of my life and, if memory serves, even to you by not attacking you in your bedroom. You’ve never given your word to me to demonstrate its worth.”
“By the founders,” Lornysh growled, “quit piddling around like infants and make a deal.” He glared both at Iridium and at Jev.
The outburst surprised him until he remembered his friend was likely injured. His dark green and wet clothing could be hiding a lot of blood.
Even more surprising, Iridium appeared abashed. The emotion disappeared quickly—Jev couldn’t imagine her ever blushing—but she nodded and faced him.
“I don’t know where the dwarf is. Either of the dwarves you’re missing.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and Jev suspected she was making a point to let him know how much she knew of his problems.
“But you were originally the one to take Grindmor’s diamond tools and coerce her into doing favors for you under the pretext of helping her search for them.”
“You make it sound so ignoble.”
He took that as confirmation. “Did you move the tools before she recovered them or did someone else take them?”
Iridium spread her arms. “I didn’t move them, and I have no idea who took them. I will say that I was irritated when I found out they were gone. I had some of my people flogged, since there were few who knew they were in that pump house in the first place. I discovered I had someone selling information to outsiders. That person no longer works for me.” She issued a vulpine smile.
Jev had a feeling that person no longer worked for anyone. “Do you know who he sold information about the tools’ whereabouts to?”
“A number of people, apparently. Other guilds, mostly. I don’t know who took the tools, nor do I know where in the city they are, if they’re in the city at all. My resources say they’re not.”
“Resources? People who can sense magic?” Jev remembered Lornysh suggesting that Cutter might not be in the city any longer since he couldn’t sense or find him.
“I don’t believe I’m honor bound to answer that question, Jevlain, dear. It has nothing to do w
ith Grindmor’s whereabouts.”
“But you don’t know Grindmor’s whereabouts, do you?”
“I do not.”
“Perhaps, to be equitable, you should offer me some other information. Such as whose vault door you’re planning to blow up today.” Jev tipped his head toward the longboat and the remaining kegs.
“I’ve been perfectly equitable, considering you’ve shared nothing with me thus far.” She gave him a pointed look.
He couldn’t deny it was true, and he wouldn’t feel honorable if he continued to hold out.
“There’s a hole in the wall over there.” Jev pointed toward the crack he and Zenia had peered through. He was relieved when Iridium’s eyes widened and she spun to look. That meant she hadn’t known and he truly had valuable information for her. “People can stand behind a waterfall over there and observe the goings on in this storage area. They can and they do. A man named Morash from the Night Travelers guild is a frequent spy. He enters through a tunnel accessible via a clock shop in the quarry square.”
Jev made a mental note to order that apprentice and his family to Dharrow Castle so he would be protected from any fallout that might come about if Iridium lashed out at the Night Travelers over this.
“Go check.” Iridium waved four of her men toward the stone wall, then turned back to Jev. “How did you find out about this, Crown Agent?”
He didn’t know why she’d switched her title for him. To imply Crown Agents ought to be above snooping through tunnels and finding peepholes?
Jev shrugged. “I discovered it in my search for Master Grindmor and my friend.”
“There’s a crack over here, Boss,” one of the men called, his nose to the stone.
Jev nodded, believing he was in the right spot.
“Maybe I can hear a waterfall? I’m not sure. It’s real muffled. It’s too dark to see through the crack. I can’t tell if it goes anywhere.”
“Mark the place,” Iridium said. “We’ll cover it later. After our guests have left.” She waved at Jev and Lornysh, then extended a hand toward the water. Inviting them to go out the way they had come? “Unless you two want to stay and entertain me. I believe dawn is approaching, but I’m not opposed to staying in bed late. With entertainment.”
Duty Bound (Agents of the Crown Book 3) Page 11