by Dan Koboldt
The other woman shrugged.
“What’s your name?” Veena asked.
“Belladonna.”
Nightshade. “It suits you. I am Veena. And I owe you one.” She lifted the flap in time to see the blindfolds come off. She recognized Moric. The other man looked familiar, too.
She leaned closer to the peephole. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“Don’t you mean gods?” Belladonna asked.
“Right. Gods.” She really couldn’t care about that right now.
Quinn Bradley. There was no mistaking CASE Global’s inside man on the Enclave. How far he must have come, to be here as one of their representatives—it was impressive. Veena had seen him in action. She knew he was good.
But not that good.
They were talking about something that happened in Felara. Veena only half-listened. Quinn looked tan and a bit rough around the edges, but there was something different about him that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. He’d always had confidence to spare, but now he seemed completely at ease in his surroundings. Even face-to-face with the Valteroni Prime. And Richard, bless him, showed no signs of recognizing him. Of seeing the danger that sat right in front of him. Veena let the flap fall, and stood quickly enough that her chair tumbled backward.
Belladonna shifted. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to get in there.”
“No interruptions. The Prime was very clear about that.”
Of course Richard said that, but if Quinn was here, Logan wouldn’t be far. “I don’t care what he said. Figure out an excuse to go in there, or the Prime will be dead within the hour.”
Belladonna hissed under her breath, but pulled open the door. Veena made to follow, but the other woman held up a hand. “You’ll stay here, and bar the door behind me.”
“This is important—” Veena ignored this and tried to brush past her.
Belladonna grabbed her wrist. Her grip was like an iron vise. “And so are you.”
She slipped out before Veena could argue.
Someone knocked on the door. Veena forced herself to wait. Two knocks, then one, then two. Richard’s knock. A knock she kept hoping that she might hear some night, when she went to bed alone in her sumptuous quarters in the west wing of the Valteroni palace. Still, it was a relief to hear it now. She unbarred the door.
Richard strode in. “What’s wrong? I trust this is important.”
“Where do I even start? The admiral just attacked me.”
“He did what?”
She waved off his concern. “Belladonna handled him.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I think he blames me for what happened to his keep.”
Richard pursed his lips. “Even so, I’ll have to send him away. Early retirement. You’re too important to lose.”
“You have more immediate problems.” Veena pointed at the wall that separated them from the sitting room. “That man in there, he’s . . .”
“Bald? He has been as long as I’ve known him.”
She slapped his arm. “Not him. The other one, the young man.”
“What about him?”
“He’s a magician.”
“Both of them are,” Richard said.
“No.” She wasn’t making herself clear, and the rising sense of panic didn’t help with things, either. “He’s our magician. The one that Kiara recruited to infiltrate the Enclave.”
Richard laughed. “Relax, Veena.” He caught her trembling arms and stilled them. His hands felt warm, reassuring. His tone slowed her racing heart. “Quinn is on our side.”
“I’m sure he’s made you believe it, but that’s what he’s good at.”
“He’s proven his loyalty. Even Moric agrees with me on that point, and you won’t get a tougher sell than Moric.”
“You think we can trust him?”
“One hundred percent.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because he’s told me everything.”
She lowered her arms so that he let go, and then shoved him back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Two reasons,” Richard said. “First, because he hadn’t yet proven his mettle for doing what needs to be done. And second, because I wasn’t certain I wanted to see you two reunited.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a handsome fellow.”
“So what?”
He looked away from her and didn’t answer.
“Wait a moment, are you jealous?”
“No, not at all.” He looked away. “There’s just . . . something about him.”
Of all the foolish things for you to feel now. For so many years, it had been her role to play the jealous one. “You’re not wrong.”
Richard’s face fell. “I’m not?”
“Not at all.” She let him suffer a moment more. Then she smiled at him. “But he’s not really my type.”
Richard let out a long breath. “Well, thank the gods. It sounds like he’s got his hands full in any case.”
“With whom?”
“Moric’s daughter.”
“Isn’t Moric a . . . fairly powerful magician?”
“One of the most powerful magicians on the island, if my sources are to be believed. Your friend lives a dangerous life.”
She clucked her tongue. “Says the man who went rogue against a billion-dollar corporation.”
“I have my reasons.”
She leaned in a little closer. “As do I.”
For a long and beautiful second, she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he cleared his throat and looked away. “In any case, I think we can make use of Quinn.”
“He might still be playing you, though. Are you sure he’s not reporting back to Kiara?”
Holt gestured at the wall. “Why don’t you go in there and ask him yourself?”
Chapter 23
Dahlia Unmasked
“My favorite illusions defy both explanation and expectation.”
—Art of Illusion, November 22
Quinn watched Richard stride from the room. Two of his guards followed, but Alethea and her sister took up positions inside the door. Probably to keep an eye on us. “What do you think that’s about?”
“I’m not certain.” Moric frowned at the door.
“I guess he is running the entire coalition.”
“Still, something tells me it’s not good news.”
Quinn grinned at him. “Now I understand how you got that nickname.”
Moric’s eyes glittered. “If I were you, I’d forget that I ever heard it.”
Yes . . . Dad.
Whatever was going on, it didn’t matter. He got to see Jillaine again. It surprised him how much he was looking forward to that. Even with the unofficial friend zone she’d placed him in. If he could get her alone for a little bit, both of them working toward a common purpose, he could probably break out of it. Granted, that would be a lot harder with Tukalu warriors around. Especially if one of them was Alethea, who seemed to have taken a predatory interest in him.
Richard reentered the room. “My apologies for the interruption, but my chief ambassador has asked to meet you.”
“Ah yes,” Moric said. “The legendary Dahlia.”
Quinn didn’t have a strong urge to stick around and meet some dry ambassador, but maybe it would give him a chance to talk his way out of the armed escort. He was racking his brain for an excuse when Veena Chaudri walked into the room. No amount of stage training, no locked-down game face could have prepared him for that. He not only let his mouth fall open, but gasped.
“Hello, Quinn,” Veena said.
Oh. My. God. For the first time in probably everyone’s recent memory, Quinn Bradley didn’t know what the hell to say.
She offered her hand. He shook it, laughing in silent disbelief. He’d have pulled her in for a hug right there, but one of the Tukalu guardswomen standing nearby cleared her throat rather pointedly. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“You’re not the only one who can play two sides.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I hear you’re still calling yourself a magician.”
She wasn’t even surprised to see him. Somehow, she already knew. Richard had probably told her, and they’d kept it quiet just to have fun with him.
Well, two could play at that game. He reached for the pulsing font of magic inside and imagined a tiny ball of light forming in the air between them. Not fire, but pure cold light in brilliant, blinding glory. Veena covered her eyes, as did everyone else in the room. A high, keening note pierced the air as well. Then he let go of the magic. The ball winked out, and the keening noise faded to silence.
“It’s no longer an act.” He held out his hands to show they were empty, and delighted in the puzzlement on her face.
“That’s incredible, Quinn.”
Quinn looked over at Richard and Moric. “Do you mind if we have a minute?”
“As long as you promise not to run away with her,” Richard said.
Quinn laughed. “I won’t.”
“Right up until he does,” Moric said, somewhat grumpily.
Richard beckoned. “Come on, Raincloud, I’ve got a new book to show you.”
They wandered off to the reading table.
“So, what’s it like?” Veena asked.
“What’s what like?”
“Using real Alissian magic.”
“Wonderful and frustrating.” He sighed, but then put on a smile. “I understand you’ve been working some magic of your own, on the diplomatic front.”
“Hardly. I’m filling in for Richard wherever he needs.”
Because he can’t be two places at once. He had a flash of realization. “You’re the reason Valteron and Caralis are suddenly allies, aren’t you?”
She blushed and looked away. “Everything lined up just right.”
“Or maybe you just have a good teacher,” he said.
She looked fondly over at Richard, who was showing Moric an ancient hide-bound book. “The best.”
Quinn lowered his voice. “So, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know if I could trust you.” Veena looked away from him, and brushed her fingers on the edge of the table. “I still don’t know that.”
“My loyalty is to the Enclave now. I think that puts us on the same side.”
“This is the same Enclave that recently withdrew Richard’s protections?”
He winced. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Kiara forced my hand.”
“What made you turn against them?”
He shrugged. “I guess you could say I figured out what I really wanted.”
Veena gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “I hear she’s lovely.”
“Jesus, can no one keep a secret around here?”
She laughed. It was good to hear her laughing again. “So, what have you been doing for Richard?”
“Proving my loyalty. Remember that wyvern we encountered on the first mission?”
“How could I forget?”
“I lured one of those to the camp outside the gateway cave. It was absolute chaos.”
“Gods.” She shook her head. “It’s a good thing you’re on our side.”
“You know, that’s what I keep telling people.”
Quinn emerged from the cold darkness on a grassy hillock beneath a perfect azure sky. He drew in a long breath, savoring the familiar smells of dew-laden grass and wildflowers and the faint taste of salt in the air. “It’s good to be back.”
“For once, we agree on something,” Moric said.
“You want to tell me what you hope to find in the archives?”
“Not until I’m certain.”
“Jillaine and I will do our best to carry on mischief in the Quinn-Moric tradition.”
Moric jabbed a finger toward him. “If she comes to harm, so do you.” He stalked off in the direction of the library.
I guess we’re not walking together.
Quinn didn’t have a lot of time, but he went to the infirmary first. Passed through the waiting room where he’d waited for news after Leward got hurt. The place was empty now, which he took either for good news or very bad news. He left and took the road down into the center of the island, to a plain single-story building with woven arches over the doorway. The chandlery’s door hung open. Soft orange candlelight glowed from within. He crossed the threshold, letting the warm air and dozens of scents wash over him. There was cinnamon, lavender, and lilac. Sea breeze laced with wildflowers.
And roses. Roses most of all.
Jillaine stood on a ladder, placing a pale windmill-shaped candle on the highest shelf. She wore, of all things, the biker chick getup they’d found for her in Caralis. She didn’t look as he approached, but she said, “I thought I felt trouble approaching.”
He grinned. “How much for the windmill?”
“It’s not for sale.” She pouted, but it was an act. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“That’s impossible, and you know it.” Sweet lord, he was glad to see her again. To hear her voice. “How’s Leward?”
“Up and about. He’s been wondering where you were.”
“What about you?”
“He knew where I was.”
“You know what I meant.” He strode over and helped her climb down from the ladder. He let his hands linger on her waist.
“So, you’re back. What for?”
“For you, actually. I need your help.”
“On what?”
“Rich—that is, the Valteroni Prime wants us to cause a disruption in the company’s communication network.”
She laughed. “Am I supposed to understand what that means?”
How do I put this in understandable terms? “We have to destroy two buildings in two different places at exactly the same time. If we do that, the invaders won’t be able to talk to one another.”
“Why do you need me?”
“Because I trust you more than anyone else.” He winked. “Come on, it’ll be fun. There are still places you haven’t seen.”
The uncertainty played across her face again. “I don’t know.”
“Fine, you can stay here. Where should I look for Leward?”
She gave him an affronted glare. “You’ve put him through enough.”
“Well, I need someone.”
“Fine.” She waved a hand, snuffing out every candle in the room. Dozens of little puffs of smoke drifted up to the ceiling. “Where are we going?”
“The Valteroni palace, first. We have to pick up our protective detail.”
“Ooh, an escort? That’s exciting.”
He laughed on the outside, and groaned inwardly. “Try to hold on to that enthusiasm.”
Chapter 24
Swamp Things
“To our knowledge, Alissia has never suffered a massive armed conflict or an epidemic of infectious disease. One has to wonder if there are other, stabilizing influences at play.”
—R. Holt, “Questions on Alissian Magic”
Quinn couldn’t believe his luck that a mission in the heart of Tion involved none of their “smart mules” whatsoever. Holt couldn’t spare four of them, and indicated that the terrain might require travel by foot in any case.
By the second hour of wading through ankle-deep marsh water, Quinn would have given a fortune for even a Tioni smart mule to ride on. The mud sucked on his boots with each squelching step. Nearly an inch of it covered his feet, making them about twice as heavy. His legs were leaden, but he’d be damned if he uttered a complaint in his present company. Alethea and her knife-throwing colleague, whose name was Bita, acted like they were out for a pleasure stroll.
“When you said you’d show me other parts of the world, this is hardly what I had in mind,” Jillaine said.
“Apparently, the company likes to put their installations in the worst possible terrain,” Quinn said. “Something about natural defenses.” Or cost savings.
Alethea had run ahead to scout the ter
rain, and now splashed back to the rest of the group with an air of excitement. “There’s firm ground ahead.”
“It’s about time,” Quinn muttered.
Alethea gave him a mock-sympathetic look. “Is this too hard on you?” She fell into step beside her sister.
“We can drop you somewhere nicer, if you need some time to recover,” Jillaine said.
Oh, good. She and the Tukalu have found a common interest—picking on me. He ignored the barbs. “How about dropping us at the actual place that we’re supposed to be going?”
The amusement slid away from her face. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Maybe you should tell me how it works.”
“Traveling from one place to another is the hardest thing to learn.”
“All the reason to start now,” he said.
“Sorry, my father says you’re not ready. And I agree.”
“Come on, Jillaine, I’m making progress.”
“Progress is not control. And that is the most important part of magic.”
“Then teach me control,” he said, knowing what rejoinder she’d have next.
“It can’t be taught.”
Worth a shot. “Well, I’m working on it.” He imagined an invisible pair of fingers pinching her in the side, right where she was ticklish.
A laugh escaped her lips, and she skipped a step, splashing muddy water on both of them. “Stop that!”
“Quiet, you two.” Alethea scrambled up a weed-ridden bank and crouched low, peering ahead. “There’s a structure ahead.”
“Good,” Quinn said. “Maybe we can—”
She silenced him with a hiss and a sharp gesture. “Something’s moving.”
Quinn shut his mouth, and pulled himself up on the bank beside her. Ahead, a low stone building had emerged almost reluctantly from the solid ground. Vines and creeping lilies covered most of the structure, but it was undoubtedly a company installation. The angles were too perfect, and a roof made of naturally occurring materials would have collapsed years ago. It appeared intact, but getting in would take either an act of God or a solid half hour of ripping back vines. And the half-dozen stocky lizard-like monsters sunning themselves on the stone might take issue with that.