by Ally Shields
“On that, we’re in perfect agreement.”
Seth glanced sideways at Rhyden’s face. “Someone should marry that girl. If you’re not interested, I may have to fix her up.”
Rhyden slowly turned his head and looked at him. “Shut up, Seth.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Seth and Rhyden left Brunic’s office with their ears ringing. Rhyden’s temporary commission as a special King’s Guard had been rescinded, but he wasn’t under arrest or even a murder suspect. Instead, a formal King’s Summons had been issued for Kurzi Everins to answer to charges of criminal activities against the kingdom. It was a big step in the right direction, if anyone could find him.
Brunic’s final words to Rhyden followed them into the hallway. “From now on, stay out of my case…and my office.”
“Well, that was pretty definite,” Seth said wryly.
“Fortunately, he no longer has any authority over me.” Rhyden grinned. “I feel like a free man. I don’t think I was cut out for law enforcement ranks.”
Seth laughed. “You could be right. Our family seems to have an unruly side.”
“And proud of it.” Rhyden chuckled, then his face clouded. “But no one else is anything like Jermon. That’s one blot on our family name I wish we could erase.”
“I consider it a family duty to hunt him down. With any luck, he won’t set foot in Elvenrude again. Alive or dead.”
“The earth is a huge world. Do you really think you can track him down?” Rhyden glanced at Seth as they stepped into the Lormarc Guild portal.
Seth picked up the conversation on the New Orleans’ side. “A lot of people are looking. So far, we’ve been one step behind, but we know what he’s looking for, and now we have Tad’s list.” He glanced at Rhyden. “There’s still an unknown piece of his scheme. Jermon’s angle. He wouldn’t go to this much effort for Dreysel or Cyrilia.”
Rhyden gave a derisive snort. “It boggles the imagination.”
“I keep worrying there’s an unknown risk linked to Jermon’s search for obsidian. He wants Elvenrude, so how’s he going to get it? Storm the portals with an army? Risky, bloody, and uncertain of long-term victory. He’d want better odds. I don’t see how the obsidian gives him that. The court mystics deny there’s anything dangerous about the volcanic glass, but they’re going to say whatever Seliwyn wants to hear.” Seth cut his eyes toward Rhyden. “When you’re in Elvenrude, why don’t you discuss the possibilities with Murielle? Take Esty with you. Murielle’s close to the Ryndel family.”
“The wise woman out by Hidden Falls?” When Seth nodded, Rhyden frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea—taking Esty.”
“Why?”
“There’s her father.”
“Yes, and…?”
Rhyden pulled at his collar. “She’d slow me down, and I don’t have the extra time.”
“Make time. Murielle will be more comfortable talking with someone she knows.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rhyden said with a sigh.
Seth grinned. “Watching you squirm? And make up excuses? Yes. Ready to talk about it?”
“No.”
Seth chuckled. “Coward.”
Rhyden gave him a pained look.
They parted at the guild entrance. Seth headed for Kam’s office for the latest information from their spotters. Rhyden turned the opposite direction. Seth glanced back, shaking his head and wondering how long it would take Rhyden to call Esty.
* * *
Although smaller than similar facilities at the Lormarc Building, the new Ryndel showroom and purchase offices were tasteful and eye-appealing, enhancing the Quarter’s French styling with shining wood floors and ivory walls. Scattered among the glass-topped display tables, plush chairs and soft-leather couches in sea-foam green offered buyers an option to relax and inspect merchandise at their leisure. Kam had set up just the right atmosphere.
Skirting the showroom, Seth found her down the hall, seated at her office desk. To his surprise, Esty was at the conference table surrounded by stacks of printouts.
“Portal logs,” Kam said by way of explanation. “She was eager to start sorting the messages. How’d it go in Elvenrude?”
“Not bad. Rhyden’s no longer a special guard and was warned off any further investigation, but otherwise it’s straightened out.”
Esty raised her head at the mention of Rhyden’s name. “The captain took away his guard status?” Her face paled. “It’s my fault for getting him involved. Is he bummed?”
“He says not. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He turned his attention back to Kam. “Anything new on Jermon?”
“No sightings. But I’ve worked on the list. Prioritizing. Biggest collections, least security. Some of the collections aren’t well documented—at least not online. So I’m not positive what’s there.” She handed him a sheet of paper. “I also charted where we know they’ve already been, but I can’t see a pattern. Do you?”
He studied the data sheet. “Only the obvious. The majority are in the US and Mexico.” He pursed his lips. “That’s probably just ease of access. With the right documents, the elves or the cartel could walk or drive over the US border or use the drug tunnels.”
“The Mexicans can’t use the portal, but why wouldn’t the elves?”
“Maybe they are…within the US. But their transport power is limited without a large portal to draw from. They’ve got to be using our leakage. Not at that much. It makes distance hopping a problem, and they’d have to take a plane overseas.” Seth grinned at the thought. “Imagine Jermon’s annoyance with such travel. Slow, expensive, and painful for our sensitive eardrums.”
“Serves him right. So they aren’t likely to cross the ocean unless it’s a big score. That actually works to our advantage, since many of the older, more powerful finds of obsidian are in Africa and the Middle East…and therefore less accessible.”
“A good point.”
“Excuse me,” Esty suddenly said. “I hate to interrupt, but I have a question about these messages.”
“I have to be going anyway,” Seth said. “She’s all yours.”
“Actually, it was you I needed. Who from your guild would be sending business messages to associates outside the US?”
“Primarily Guild Master Henre, but Olseon on the Elvenrude side might send a few. Rhyden and I, of course, or one of our secretaries sending them on our behalf. Why? Have you found something wrong?”
“Not yet. I’m trying to determine what’s routine. Then I can isolate what doesn’t fit.” She looked up with a half grin. “There are a lot of messages.”
“Told you there were,” Kam said.
Esty made a funny face at her. Seth chuckled, kissed Kam good-bye, and left them to continue the sisterly sparring.
* * *
A few minutes later, Kam was interrupted by the phone. This time it was Rhyden.
“Seth mentioned Jermon might know a way to use obsidian to harm us or Elvenrude. He suggested asking Murielle how it could be done.”
“That’s a great idea. I should have thought of her. I don’t trust the king’s mystics. They’re too political. But Rhyden…” She grinned at the phone. “I thought Brunic told you to back off.”
“Yeah, he wasn’t very happy with me. So I’m staying out of his way. Murielle’s cottage should be far enough.”
The spirit woman who’d been the closest friend of Kam’s gifted godmother lived by herself on the edge of the foothills, surrounded by her gardens and a myriad of birds, butterflies, and garden fairies during the summer. At this time of year she might welcome some company.
“I’d love to see her, and I’d go with you, but I can’t leave New Orleans. If Jermon is spotted—”
“Seth suggested I take Esty.”
“Oh, well, OK. Ask her yourself.” Kam got up and handed the phone to her sister. “It’s Rhyden.”
An indefinable expression flashed across Esty’s face, but she put the phone to her
ear with a casual “hello.” She mostly listened. When she hung up less than a minute later, she straightened the piles on the table and stood. “I guess I’m needed in Elvenrude.”
“Give Murielle a hug for me. I haven’t seen her since she used the root magic to make the anti-invisibility dust last summer.”
“That’s just it.” Esty’s brow puckered. “I thought she was all about plants. How much can she tell us about volcanic rock?”
“She uses earth magic. It’s more than plants. Obsidian may fall within her specialty. Anyway, she’s the closest thing we have to the ancient magicians.”
“Is there something in particular I should ask her or tell her?”
Kam thought about it. She was still bound by King Seliwyn’s oath, although Rhyden and Esty knew by now that obsidian was somehow at the heart of things. Still, she’d sworn not to reveal the rest. “Tell her Jermon is actively collecting obsidian, and ask if that could in any way endanger Elvenrude. Either it’ll make sense to her or it won’t.”
“I’ll grab my cloak from the apartment.” Esty headed for the door. “I should be home before supper. Maybe we can order pizza.”
“Only if I get to pick this time. Ham and pineapple.”
Esty flashed a grin over her shoulder before she closed the door. “Sure. You’re buying.”
* * *
Rhyden shifted his feet and adjusted his collar as he waited for Esty at the Ryndel Guild. This was the first time they’d been alone since the night of the fire…when she’d kissed him and he’d held her for a moment as if there was no tomorrow. Reality intervened before it went farther, but he wasn’t sure what she was thinking these days.
He heard the side door open and turned to see her hurrying toward him.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. I had to get my winter cloak. It still seems strange the weather can be so different on opposite ends of the portal. Shall we go?”
“In a minute. Let’s talk first.” He gave her a serious look. “Why are you still in New Orleans? Is it this fight with your father?”
She blinked at him, then looked away. “I’m doing it for me. It’s time. Besides, I really want to help, to feel I’m doing something in this crisis. When it’s over, I’ll go home.”
He lifted a brow. “Do your parents know that?”
“You think I should tell them now.”
“Do you?”
“I was considering it.” She wound a finger around a dark curl. “I suppose you’re right. I’m not really angry anymore.”
So it was the first thing they did. Esty spoke privately with her father at the guild. He walked back with her when she met Rhyden near the front door and acted as if the disagreement of the other night had never happened. Not trusting the good mood to last, Rhyden reminded Esty they were short on time. Her mother was even more welcoming, and they had trouble breaking away to complete their errand.
“I feel better now. Thanks for pushing me. This time.” Esty threw him a smile as they approached the Ryndel Stables. Her father had suggested Rhyden borrow one of their horses to save time.
“I’ve always been surprised how good doing the right thing feels,” he said.
They talked on the ride, mostly about the Elvenrude situation and the hunt for Jermon. The awkwardness between them had dissolved in the first few minutes. Rhyden found he enjoyed brainstorming with her.
“If you need help with the data, I can find some time. Identifying the go-between would be a big step forward. I hate to say this, but look closely at our Guild and family. If Jermon trusted anyone, it would be another Lormarc or extended family. I’d suspect Olseon, our guild master on the Elvenrude side, except he buckles under stress. Maybe it’s one of the shift supervisors.”
“Your knowledge of these people would be helpful in sorting through suspects.”
“Then it’s settled.”
She shot him another smile, revealing that adorable dimple, and Rhyden looked away. Now what had he let himself in for? Even volunteered. Somehow all his good intentions vanished the moment Esty smiled at him. He nudged his horse forward to discourage further talk, but she said something he didn’t catch, and he glanced over his shoulder.
Rhyden stiffened. There was movement in the trees about a hundred yards behind them. A deer maybe, but it looked more like a horse and rider. He angled himself so he could continue talking yet keep one eye on that part of the woods. Even if it was a rider, it might be someone passing by on their own business.
But after five minutes, he was positive they’d picked up a tail. The other rider was taking an erratic course that kept him hidden in the woods but parallel with their own. Since the figure hadn’t moved closer, Rhyden just kept watch. Esty continued to chat, apparently unaware of the mysterious shadow.
Why the sudden interest in his or, gods forbid, her movements? Was it last night’s attackers again?
When they reached Murielle’s cottage and dismounted, Rhyden patted his horse’s neck and casually scanned the area. The rider had disappeared.
Esty tapped lightly on the door. Murielle answered immediately, her normal smile widening in recognition. She never seemed surprised to see anyone. Perhaps she had a touch of insight or it was merely her accepting nature. She led the way into the kitchen and the cozy hearth fire. “Please have a seat. I’m sure you could use a spot of hot honey tea.”
“Sounds lovely. How can I help?” Esty asked.
“You can get the mugs, if you like.” Murielle pointed to a corner cabinet of rustic alder wood covered with interesting knots and burls.
Esty crossed the room and stopped to glance out the window at the garden that had looked so inviting last summer. It was bare and dormant. “I miss the butterflies and flowers in winter. What happens to all your garden fairies when it gets so cold?”
“Oh, you know the wee people. They’re around,” Murielle answered vaguely. “I’m ready to pour.”
Esty hurried back with the glass mugs and set them on a finely stitched tablecloth of red and white. Once they were seated and had taken a few sips of the warming beverage, Murielle finally asked, “What brings you out on such a cold ride?”
Esty explained their mission as Kam had suggested. “Jermon Lormarc must have some reason he’s collecting obsidian. We’re concerned he could use it to harm Elvenrude. But we don’t know how.”
“It’s long been carved into weapons,” Murielle said. “But I doubt if that’s what he has in mind.” She gave Rhyden a piercing look. “He’s a relative of yours, isn’t he?”
“A great-uncle, I’m sorry to say.”
She squinted her eyes. “You don’t like him. I have never met Jermon but have heard much. I am encouraged to be blunt. Do you believe he is capable of evil?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Ah, you did not hesitate…even though you share a bloodline. That tells me much, and opens the door to unthinkable possibilities.” She gazed at nothing for a moment. “The king guards Elvenrude’s secrets—as he should—but my family has its own knowledge passed through time. I will share with you what the king will wish I hadn’t, but it is necessary. Elvenrude’s magic comes from obsidian born in the depths of the earth and cooled by its air and water. It sustains our entire life. The king guards this precious substance in a secret vault.”
Esty’s mouth dropped open, and she turned to stare at Rhyden. “I wonder if Kam knows.”
Mastering his own surprise, he remembered the small hints, the secret looks, since Seth and Kam had been summoned to accompany the king to Cyrilia. “I think she and Seth both know. It explains a lot.” He leaned forward, his face darkening with concern. “You think Jermon will attempt to steal it?”
“No, I don’t think that’s possible. Seliwyn will have it sealed away, and it’s protected by its own powerful magic.” The old woman hesitated. “But he might try to destroy it.”
“How? You just said it’s protected.”
“There is only one way. Anti-magic.”
> Rhyden frowned. “Assuming he has it, what would it do? Leave us in the same plight as Cyrilia, gradually declining because the obsidian could no longer replenish our magic?”
She shook her head and fluttered both hands. “No. Much worse. The obsidian magic and its anti-magic are two sides of the same energy. For the two to meet would be catastrophic.”
“Define catastrophic,” Rhyden said.
Murielle sighed slowly. “It would shatter our world into nothing.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Rhyden stared at the mystic. Surely he hadn’t heard her right. Shatter. Like into pieces?
“Where would he get it—the anti-magic?” Esty’s voice was faint. She’d set her mug down, her face paler than usual.
“The magic that sustains us came from ancient obsidian, the purest, blackest form, and was harnessed for our use by a powerful ritual. Theoretically, the same or similar energy can be reversed by another ritual into anti-magic. If the two forms meet, they cancel one another…violently.”
“Even Jermon wouldn’t do that.” Esty’s eyes were wide, frightened now. “Doesn’t he want to rule Elvenrude? Why would he destroy it?”
“Trust me…he’s capable of anything.” Rhyden’s gaze moved back to Murielle. “How big an explosion would it be? Could we send our people through the portal to Cyrilia or back to earth?”
“I don’t have a definite answer, but the force might break the dimensional barriers and take the other worlds with it.”
Shocked at the enormity of what he’d heard, Rhyden leaned heavily back in his chair and swore under his breath. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He had no illusion Jermon would hesitate to take the ultimate revenge if things didn’t go his way. But surely his great-uncle would attempt blackmail first—give me your world or I’ll blow it up. If that happened, they’d have to give in to his demands. What else could they do?
“How difficult is the ritual?” he finally asked. “Is it safe? Could an explosion be set off accidentally by someone attempting the spell?”