Cross Keys: Unity

by Ally Shields

  “Thank you. Did you bring honey?”

  “I did, sir. Right here.”

  Beesom moved the honey pot to the front of the tray and departed. Seth fixed their tea, handed Harad a cup and a small plate with two scones, then got to the point of his visit.

  “Rhyden and I have gotten crossways with Captain Brunic. And I expect it to only get worse,” Seth said bluntly.

  “Does it have something to do with this duchaen rebellion? I heard Rhyden was hanging around with Merik Trevain.”

  Seth’s lips twitched. He should have known. Harad kept his ears open to village gossip. “You’ll probably hear I’ve met with him also. It’s not so much what we’ve done that may cause you trouble, especially from the king, but what we’re going to do. Or at least Rhyden.”

  Harad waved an impatient hand. “Quit talking riddles and just tell me.”

  “It’s a complicated story,” Seth warned. “So much has happened in the last week or two. But it all comes back to Jermon.” He set down his tea and filled Harad in on recent events. Some of it his grandfather already knew, but Seth tried to fit the pieces together into a cohesive story. “While Kam and I hunt for Jermon, and Esty Ryndel searches for a paper trail to identify our leak, Rhyden will be active here in Elvenrude. Regardless of Brunic’s or Seliwyn’s disapproval—and he’s been warned off twice by Brunic—Rhyden will be working with Merik Trevain to capture or disband the splinter group. I’ll help them when I can, but catching Jermon is my first priority.”

  “Why can’t you leave the locals to Brunic?”

  “Seriously, Grandfather? Do you think they’re going to talk or even listen to him? Merik Trevain is the key. Rhyden and I are just backup. But we’re prepared to take steps Brunic can’t. We’ll kidnap Kurzi Everins and stash him somewhere if we have to.”

  “Everins?” Harad’s voice sharpened. “I heard Brunic wanted to question him. You think he’s involved in this?”

  “I know he is, but we can’t prove it to Brunic’s satisfaction. Everins started the fire that killed four people…and could have killed Rhyden and Esty.”

  “A father’s sins,” Harad mumbled, then he changed course. “Rhyden shouldn’t have had the girl there.”

  “Of course not, but that isn’t the point, is it?”

  “Another Ryndel woman. What’s gotten into you two?”

  “We’ve been struck by good taste.” Seth cocked his head and refused to be distracted. “I’m convinced Everins has killed once and tried a second time when he stabbed Trevain. Why are you steering the conversation away from him?”

  Harad dropped his gaze and made a production of stirring honey into his tea. “Because I don’t want to talk about Kurzi.” He set the spoon down with a sharp click. “Allow an old man his regrets, Seth.”

  “What regrets?” Seth’s eyes widened, as one possible explanation occurred to him. “What are you saying?”

  “Not what you think. He isn’t mine.” Harad exhaled heavily. “He’s Jermon’s.”

  Silence. Seth gaped at his grandfather. As the words sunk in, he shook his head. “I had no idea.”

  “No one did, except me, Jermon, and the commoner—his cousin—I paid to take him in.”

  “You paid? Not Jermon?”

  “You seem surprised,” Harad said dryly. “When has Jermon ever done the right thing?”

  “I know, but a child…”

  “He wanted nothing to do with him. The young girl—barely more than a child herself—came to me when he wouldn’t help her. I tried to make him see his duty, but he laughed, and I won’t repeat what he called her or the child. I provided for her, but the poor girl died in childbirth. I don’t think Jermon even knows who Kurzi is. He never asked.”

  “Does Kurzi know? Have you met him, talked to him?”

  “No. Perhaps I should have taken him in despite Jermon’s objections. It might have changed his path.” Harad’s naturally ruddy features had grown gray, as if he’d aged twenty years in revealing the truth.

  “I deplore how he’s been treated, but others have suffered similar abandonment without becoming killers,” Seth said. “There’s such a thing as bad genes.”

  “Perhaps. I’ll never be sure.” His grandfather looked up. “What happens now?”

  “We still have to stop him.” Seth shrugged. “It doesn’t matter who he is.”

  That wasn’t really true. As Seth walked slowly toward the guild and the portal to New Orleans, he thought about Kurzi, the heritage they shared—or should have shared—and the what ifs. The man was a little older—mid-thirties, maybe—but the same decade as he and Rhyden. What if they’d all been raised together? Would it be different now?

  Seth was pretty sure it would have changed his own life, at least his perceptions if he’d been forced to consider the fate of crossbreeds from an early age. His family might have taken steps to right the inequities. The rebellion wouldn’t have been necessary; Kurzi might not have killed anyone.

  Whoa. Seth pulled his thoughts up short. Don’t go there. As his grandfather said, they’d never know. Without the rebellion, it might have been something else. The barn fire had been a cold, heartless act against other duchaen, not Elite elves he might have a reason to resent. His behavior was more aligned with Jermon than other Lormarcs. But Seth felt a twinge of regret…even doubt. Knowing he shared a bloodline with Kurzi made it harder to think objectively.

  He frowned, debating whether to tell Rhyden. Was this a secret best kept hidden? But hadn’t there already been too much secrecy? Rhyden had a right to know. And Kam. Maybe he’d even tell Kurzi someday. After all, didn’t everyone deserve to know their roots—good and bad?

  * * *

  After voting Seth as the best choice to talk with Brunic, Rhyden and Merik set out to track down the four names on their list. Actually three. They didn’t expect to find Kurzi Everins. Except for the knife attack—and Merik hadn’t gotten a good enough look to positively identify him as his hooded attacker—Everins had laid low since the night of the fire.

  Although they doubted the three rebels would tell them much, they hoped to rattle a few cages and let Everins know he hadn’t succeeded in eliminating Merik or stopping their investigation. That Brunic would be questioning the same people was a given, but Brunic was an outsider, and he’d start out hostile, alienating them before he opened his mouth. When they refused to talk, there’d be nothing the captain could legally do except turn them loose. Rhyden and Merik weren’t bound by any rules except their conscience.

  The first name on their list was mending a stone fence on a farm just outside of town. He ran when he saw them, but Rhyden chased him down on horseback and leaped off, dragging the man to the ground. Merik dismounted and sat on their captive while Rhyden dusted himself off and grinned. He was pretty proud of his capture.

  “Now, Barnebe.” Merik waited for the man to stop struggling. “Why don’t you tell me why you got involved with someone like Kurzi Everins? You know he’s nothing but trouble.”

  Since Merik seemed to know what he was doing, Rhyden stood with one hand resting on his horse’s neck and listened.

  “Aw, you know how much I hate getting half the allotment of the commoners. Kurzi promised we’d do something about that. Something besides talk.”

  “Like what? Murder?”

  “Naw, nothin’ like that. Can’t you let me up now?” The twenty-something crossbreed swiveled his head to frown over his shoulder at Merik. His eyes flicked to Rhyden then back.

  “Not until I talk some sense into you. What you’re doing has only made things worse for the duchaen. Everins may be charged with murder soon. Anyone hanging around him could get caught up in that.”

  “Murder? What did he do?”

  “Set that barn on fire. Killed four of our own.”

  “That wasn’t Kurzi. It was an accident. A horse kicked over a lantern.”

  “The barn wasn’t being used,” Merik said patiently. “No horses. And Kurzi was seen outside just before
our meeting started. You’re a smart man, and you know Kurzi. What do you think happened?”

  “Hades, Merik, I didn’t know. You sure about that?”

  “He ambushed and stabbed me, right in my own home.”

  The farmhand swore. “Never knew that either. You saying he’s fooling us? Why?”

  “I think he’s working for Jermon Lormarc.”

  The man swore again, louder this time. There was an equal mixture of fear and rage in his voice. “I want no part of Lormarc. He’s a mean one.”

  Merik finally stood, allowing the crossbreed to get on his feet. “Do yourself a favor and stay away from Everins. And be a good friend to your buddies. Warn them what they’ve gotten into.”

  The farmhand’s neck reddened, and he wouldn’t meet Merik’s gaze. “I guess I been a fool. I’ll pass the word,” he said after a moment. “I’ll do it tonight.”

  “Will I see you at our next meeting?”

  The man finally looked at him. “I’ll be there…with my friends. Uh, I guess I should thank you for finding me before the law does.”

  “That’s why the duchaen should stick together. See you soon.”

  Merik and Rhyden swung onto their horses and rode away. The farmhand leaned on the fence and watched them go.

  “You think he means it?” Rhyden asked doubtfully. “That was a pretty quick change of heart.”

  “Oh, he means it. Barnebe’s not a bad guy, but he’s a bit slow and easily led. As long as he doesn’t get around Kurzi again, he’ll be fine. He was the easy one on our list. I don’t think the others will be as friendly.”

  He was right.

  They found the second man in Keiley’s Pub. The barkeep and several patrons raised an eyebrow at Rhyden, but Merik nodded and said, “He’s with me.”

  Rhyden nearly choked at the exchange and turned his snicker into a cough, but he was impressed with Merik Trevain’s standing among the workers of the village.

  Their suspect was easy to spot, drinking ale at a table by himself. They sat down on either side of him, and he blinked baleful eyes at them. Clearly he’d had several pints prior to their arrival and was in a belligerent mood.

  “This is my table. Take yourselves somewhere else.” He suddenly squinted at Rhyden and recoiled with a wary look. “What’s he doing in here?”

  Merik ignored the question. “We’d like to talk with you.”

  “Forget it. Got nothing to say. Be sure to take him with you as you leave.” The intoxicated crossbreed was in no shape to listen, even if he’d been willing. He swayed toward Merik. “I know what you want. But me and Kurzi have a deal. We’re buddies.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “We’re gonna be rich…” He broke off. “Ha, thought you’d catch me, didn’t you? Get away from me.”

  Merik stood. “Tell your buddy I was here, and I’m looking for him. If you change your mind, find me. We’ll talk.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” The man started laughing, a drunken sound, too loud, too artificial.

  “He’s an ass,” Merik said, once they were outside. “He’ll stick with Everins, no matter what, but I hope he’s sober enough to deliver my message. I want Kurzi to know I’m coming after him.”

  According to his wife, the third suspect left his village home fifteen minutes before Rhyden and Merik arrived, following receipt of an urgent message from a friend. He hadn’t said where he was going or when he’d return.

  Rhyden and Merik grinned at one another. Someone was spreading the word. Whether it was Barnebe or the drunk or someone else didn’t matter. The word was out. With Barnebe repeating Merik’s accusations regarding the fire and the ambush, some of the rebels should realize they were in deeper trouble than they wanted to be. The truth might go a long way toward isolating the hardcore group.

  Rhyden glanced at Merik’s determined face as they walked back to the hitching post where they’d left the horses. One out of three wasn’t particularly good odds, but it was a beginning that could have a wide-reaching effect. They’d done good work today. Everins’s days of controlling things were limited.

  * * *

  Seth checked his phone one last time. Nearly midnight. Why hadn’t Rhyden called? He wanted to tell him about their connection to Kurzi Everins—get it over with. He’d left two messages already.

  Telling Kam had been easy. She took the revelation without much reaction except increased disgust with Jermon. But then it wasn’t her family involved. Rhyden wasn’t likely to be so nonchalant.

  Seth raked his unruly hair off his forehead. He couldn’t quit thinking about the people who died in the fire—murdered by Kurzi. Even if Elvenrude society ignored the connection, Kurzi was kin. By the gods, how Seth hated to admit that.

  The phone rang, and he caught it on the first ring.

  “Sorry, I missed your calls,” Rhyden said. “I just got back from Elvenrude. Merik and I had a busy day.” He described their attempts to interview the rebels. “There was no sign of Everins. What did Brunic have to say?”

  Seth told him briefly how badly that had gone, then paused. “Afterward I stopped to warn Grandfather of our activities. I didn’t want Seliwyn ringing a peal over his head before Harad heard our side of it.”

  “Very wise of you, cuz. Always thinking.”

  “Yeah, well, I heard something I didn’t expect…about Everins and Jermon.”

  “You’re kidding me? Harad already knew they were working together and didn’t tell anyone?”

  “No, it’s worse than that. He knew they were father and son.”

  After a moment of shocked silence, Rhyden released a string of expletives that included words Seth hadn’t heard in quite a while.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  After spending the day with Barrott and getting her father’s and Seth’s agreement to her employee relations’ survey, Esty moved home early the next morning. Her parents welcomed her with hugs, and her absence was treated as a simple vacation in New Orleans. It was good to settle into her old bedroom, although it didn’t feel quite the same. Something had changed. Probably her.

  She picked up the doll that had sat on her bed for as long as she could remember. She smoothed its dark hair with her fingers, then stood on a chair and set it on a high shelf. Some day her child or Kam’s would enjoy it again.

  Opening her bag of new clothes, she put them away and pulled out a pair of black jeans and a fluffy pink sweater. She’d had a reason for returning on this particular day. She’d learned all she needed from Barrott, and it was logical to finish her alleged survey with information from the other guild and the other end of the portals.

  That’s how she explained her presence to Guild Master Dorth Olseon when she arrived at his Elvenrude guild office just before noon. “It will give me a complete picture,” she concluded.

  Olseon pursed his lips but offered her a seat. “I’m sorry if I seem surprised, but no one mentioned your study to me. You’ll find I have a good rapport with all our workers.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Esty gave him a reassuring smile. The late-thirties manager remained standing, his slender frame somewhat rigid. “But you’re only one part of my report. It includes supervisors, crew chiefs, anyone in a position of authority. I’m also gathering suggestions on how the owners can better support you in your position.”

  He seemed to unbend a little. No doubt he’d have a ton of suggestions for or complaints about Rhyden and Seth…since they’d fired him.

  “I’ll help in any way I can. Where would you like to begin?”

  “With you, if I may.” She pulled out a notepad and pen.

  “I have only a few minutes. But if this is what the Lormarcs want, we can get started.” He sat behind his desk, his shoulders squared as if he had a rod in his spine.

  She smiled encouragingly. “You’ve had a long career in the trade business. How much of it has been in supervisory positions?”

  If Olseon had other pressing business, it seemed to slip his mind. He spe
nt more than an hour answering her questions. Most people enjoyed talking about themselves, and she gave him plenty of opportunity to do so. He spoke knowledgeably about the business, and while he did have a few suggestions for the owners, he refrained from speaking harshly of Rhyden and Seth. He described his transfer back to Elvenrude as a difference in management style.

  Esty might have been impressed except for his underlying admiration for Jermon. While he didn’t actually claim his prior employer had been falsely accused, he implied it. Still, she couldn’t fault him for loyalty…unless he’d carried it too far and was part of the current conspiracy.

  She probed a little deeper. “Jermon Lormarc ran this guild house for many years and made most of its business decisions. It must be difficult not having him available to answer questions about past procedures. Have you had any contact with him?”

  Olseon immediately stiffened. “Certainly not. What are you suggesting?”

  “I meant while he was still in Elvenrude.”

  “He was not allowed visitors.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that. What a pity. A sad story. I wonder if he died in the New Orleans’ fire like they say.” She kept her eyes down, as if she were making meaningless chatter.

  “I wouldn’t know,” he said curtly.

  Oops. She’d put his back up.

  She put her notepad away and stood. “You’ve been very helpful. Thank you. I know I’ve kept you from your work too long. May I come back if I have more questions?”

  “I’m at your disposal.” He stood, an obligatory smile appearing now the session was over. “Who else would you like to see?”

  “I’ll just wander around. Maybe catch someone on break. I don’t want to interrupt the routine.”

  His smile slipped a little. “I need to schedule meetings with supervisory staff. Someone will be required to cover their duties while they meet with you.”

  “Oh, all right. I’ll give you tomorrow’s list by the end of the day,” she said sweetly. “Thank you again for your time.” Esty escaped the room before his dismayed expression at the idea of tomorrow’s list made her laugh. He’d clearly hoped her visit would be brief.