Before the Luck Runs Out: Can Magic Save Jedda? (Chanmyr Chronicles Book 1)

by TJ Muir

  He wondered if there were any sweet rolls left from dinner.

  “So, do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked.

  Jay blinked, confused. “No. I’m an only child.”

  “So your parents spoil you, yes?”

  Jay shrugged, not liking the conversation. He wondered if Kirrin knew how to make sausage rolls.

  “You said they were merchants, right?”

  “Yeah,” Jay said. Part of him didn’t like the conversation, and another part of him wanted to sleep. Couldn’t she just curl up next to him and snuggle?

  “So. Are they very successful at what they do?”

  Another shrug. “I suppose so. But I really don’t want to talk about my family. Are you hungry?” he asked. He knew his words came out a little sharper than he intended. He hoped to make amends with a pastry. But she didn’t look interested in food. He laid back down against the pillows, rearranging them. He tried to pull her over next to him, but she pulled away sharply, wrenching her arm back, and sitting up. She threw the covers back and got up, looking for her clothes.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Come back to bed. This was really nice, being in a real bed, of our own.”

  She just growled at him as she got dressed. When she was done, she stood up, looking down at him, where he was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “So, am I not good enough for you? Fine. You can sleep by yourself.” And she huffed as she flung the door open and left.

  Jay sat there shaking his head in disbelief. What had just happened? Everything had been fine. Why did she have to go and start asking so many questions? What did she want from him? He had no idea what he was supposed to do now to fix it.

  So Jay was left to himself to sort through things. He went to the archives. Books, he found, were like flying. They were simple things. He wanted to try to research the history of Hak’kar’s family- but he didn’t trust the archivists. Trey had a vast library. However, Trey’s house was filled with too many prying eyes. But he had the same problem at the city’s public archives. He knew they were often spies for the So’har and Da’har. The last thing Jay wanted was for anything to get back to Hak’kar. He did find a book of family registries, which gave him some basic background.

  He learned when Hak'kar had been born, and when he became So'har- which was only slightly older than Trey now was. The father had died young. He pored through the registry. He found out that Hak’kar had had an older brother, also deceased. Nothing in the records indicated how father or brother had died. It only recorded the dates. Jay noticed the two were very close in age; he couldn't help but wonder. But he kept his questions to himself and kept his searches to things that were general.

  The other thing he wished was for more information about his Faenyr blood. But most of what he could find told him only what he already knew. The archives served the Chanmyr and Chanmyr purposes. As vast and extensive as the archives were, he couldn’t find anything relevant about Faenyr magic and special abilities. He could even find books on Chanmyr magic and spells. But nothing on Faenyr magic. More often than not, he found himself in the long open gallery, staring at the picture of the woman, the one with the mysterious shell so like his own. What was the shell? The Tiqqua. Why did this woman have one? And what might it mean?

  He chased those questions around and around until he realized he was replacing one problem with another- neither of which had answers or solutions. Eventually, he came to the realization that he was searching for something, both inside and outside of himself. He wanted to know something about who he was, as well as where he came from. But mostly, he needed to find an answer to who he wanted to be. How did he feel about Hak’kar? Did it matter if Hak’kar was not perfect? What if he was not the hero Jay had imagined? Could Jay live comfortably with this knowledge? Did he want to be a part of it? Would he have a choice?

  He did like Trey’s library. It had a pleasant spicy scent that blended with the leather and paper of books.

  “I thought I might find you here. Jaybird is a book worm,” Trey said directly behind him, wine glass in hand. It was late and even the staff were settled in for the night. Jay imagined that Trey’s personal attendant might be the only other person who was awake in the House.

  “You look well,” Jay said, cautiously. From the greeting and tone, he was pretty sure he was talking with Trey, and not the Da’har.

  “Yes. Eating and sleep and sex are great salves. As was firing my council. You were right. The first weeks were wretched, with all sorts of requests banging on my door from all of them and from the other So’har and merchants. So many foolish details and requests,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, handing the second glass to Jay. “Come,” he said, heading over to a couch and table. The furniture was ornate, velvet and leather, in dark blue of the house. Jay looked at it, the little nook. The designer must have intended to create a welcoming space to leaf through books. But it looked too new and too fresh, as though it had never been used, or it was only for display.

  But the two of them kicked their feet up anyway, making themselves comfortable.

  “How fare the relatives?” Jay asked.

  Trey snorted. “Groveling, every last one of them. I brought a few of them back in… those least offensive, and those I deem capable of grasping who is in charge. Mostly, I needed someone to take the petty details of daily things off my hands.” He reached out for his wine glass and took a drink. “I’ve made them earn their place. And they are learning- they serve at my pleasure. I can just as easily remove them when they no longer please me.”

  Jay nodded. Trey was making himself captain of his team. He knew Trey would figure out who was worth keeping, and who had only self-interest in mind.

  “How is Uncle?”

  “Still sweating my displeasure. Trying to figure how to convince me that he is only serving my interests, has my best interest at heart, and convince me that ‘I should allow him to guide me through this most distressing time and transition’.” Trey rolled his eyes as he mimicked his uncle’s mannerisms. “I have enjoyed reeling him in, just so far, and then sending him off at the littlest annoyance. He is learning. In truth, he has value, though, in connections as well as an understanding of things.”

  Jay nodded. “An unpleasant necessity?”

  “Precisely,” Trey said, raising his glass. “To unpleasant necessities.” Then he rolled his head slightly, from where he was leaning back, so he could look at Jay. “So, how is Diya?”

  “What?”

  “Are the two of you.. you know.. having at it yet?”

  Jay choked and sputtered and sat up, stunned.

  “That’s a yes,” Trey said chuckling. “Cheers,” he said, raising his glass again.

  “Well, she isn’t speaking to me now, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter,” Jay muttered.

  “Good luck with that,” Trey said, taking another sip.

  Jay finally broke down and sent some of Kirrin’s candies to Diya through a messenger. He hoped it would be an acceptable peace offering, for whatever he had done to upset her. Several days later, he received a note from her, and they made plans to meet in the upper market square. It wouldn’t be too busy because it was not a market day.

  But there was still a bit of a crowd there, a lot of students playing a game of polarity in the quad. Jay waded through them, keeping an eye out for Diya, even though he was early and she was generally late.

  He heard a high-pitched squeal and looked over his shoulder to see a small cluster descending on him rapidly. It was the twins, Linna and Minna; he still didn’t know which was which, and they were with Leanna. He half expected to see Findal nearby, but then he remembered that Leanna and Findal weren’t that close anymore. Leanna was distressed at Taj’s death, and Findal had been wrapped up in Trey. He wondered what would happen to Findal and Trey now.

  But then he got caught up in the whirlwind of chatter going on around him. The twins updated him on all the latest scandals in two fast flo
wing streams of chatter.

  “So what is it like, at Zo’Trey’s?”

  Jay shrugged. He didn’t know how to describe it. “Not nearly as exciting as most would imagine. Day to day things, mostly.” He was also careful not to reveal anything personal. He wasn’t about to let them know how hard Trey was struggling with his position.

  “So, is it true he banished everyone?” twin-two continued, trying to tease out any tiny morsel of gossip.

  “You would probably be more informed than I would,” he said, turning her nosinessback on her, with a smile.

  She tossed her head, annoyed at the insinuation.

  “Ignore her,” twin-one said. “She’s just upset because there is nowhere to have our parties anymore.”

  “What?” Jay asked, curious. “Have I missed something? I don’t get out so much these days,” he admitted.

  “You mean you didn’t hear?” twin-one asked eyes wide. “It was all anyone was talking about for days.”

  Jay looked back and forth between them and looked at Leanna as well. Leanna looked a little uncomfortable, but the twins were bursting.

  “Yaran,” twin-two said, unable to contain herself. “You really didn’t hear?”

  “What about Yaran?” Jay remembered him.

  Twin-one leaned in close, lowering her voice a notch. “Dead. Hung himself, they say.”

  Twin-two leaned in alongside, hushed scandal tone. “I bet it was because of Taj.”

  Jay looked at Leanna, who was rolling her eyes at the twins. But she shifted, crossing her arms when she heard Taj’s name. He remembered the twins teasing her for her crush on Taj, and his apparent disinterest. He felt like he was missing a piece there, but couldn’t figure out what it was.

  Twin-two grabbed his arm, distracting him from his thoughts. “Look, there’s Diya. I wonder what she’s up to these days. Hasn’t been around much at all.”

  “You know what that means… must be some poor sap getting his heart stomped,” twin-one added.

  Jay didn’t hear them at this point. He was trying to think of how he could get away from them without being obvious about it.

  It wasn’t long before the group grew, and Jay was able to pick a moment to duck into the bushes and wait for them to move on. A hand covered his mouth from behind. He almost jumped, but then he smelled jasmine and lavender, and knew it was Diya.

  “Sshhhh,” she said, her mouth close to his ear. “I saw you getting mauled by those horrendous sea cows.”

  The two of them slipped away from the square, where Diya had a carriage waiting. It was a hired carriage, so no one would recognize it. She had it take them outside the city, up to the ridge. They had a picnic lunch and watched the fliers practicing.

  Jay was trying very hard to be attentive and tiptoed around a few sulky moments. He couldn’t figure out why things were so difficult between them lately. And as they sat staring at the sky, his thoughts kept going back to Yaran. and Taj. and Hak’kar.

  Then it all hit him, the pieces came together and crashed down on his head. Kirrin had said something about Yaran not being cooperative or something like that. And Yaran had been close to Taj.

  Yaran was Hak’kar’s man, sent to spy on Taj and influence his behavior, and from what Kirrin had said, Yaran had not been successful.

  And now Yaran was dead. That was not coincidence.

  An icy chill hit him, a cold sweat. Fear hit deep in his belly.

  Diya looked at him, taking him by the arm. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He looked up, from where he was bent over, looked into her bright eyes. He wondered how she and Trey and all the others lived like this.

  Jay tried hard to pay attention, but his mind kept circling back to Yaran. Diya went from being annoyed with him, to being genuinely concerned for him.

  “Go home,” she said finally. “You look ill. Your man will tend you and get you well again,” she said smiling brightly. “We can talk later.” She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him quickly. “No,” she said, changing her tone. “Wait. I will arrange a carriage to bring you home.”

  Jay came into his suite to find Kirrin waiting for him. Jay could tell that Kirrin was anxious, or maybe it was just him reading too much into things. He headed straight for the side table, reaching for the decanter of brandy.

  But Jay had learned how to read Kirrin and mostly tried to be a good and responsible pupil. Had Yaran been someone’s pupil once?

  “Was it a good morning with the So’har Diya?” Kirrin asked.

  Jay stopped, hand in midair. Kirrin was asking him something. “What? Oh. Yes. Ran into a few others in the quad. Diya and I spoke for awhile,” he said. But he couldn’t remember anything they had talked about now besides Yaran. He silently prayed Kirrin wouldn’t ask.

  Kirrin was his teacher, on Hak’kar’s orders. Hak’kar’s man. Was Kirrin monitoring his actions and successes?

  Kirrin nodded, as he went through papers and correspondences. Jay picked up his carving knife and watched him as he worked. Something was going on, but he couldn’t tell what it was, not even when he peeked into Kirrin’s colors.

  After a while, Kirrin looked up from the pile of papers, clearing his throat.

  “Hak’kar wishes to meet with you,” Kirrin said. Finally. But the news did anything but help Jay relax. He hadn’t met personally with Hak’kar for a while. All information was relayed through Kirrin. Kirrin was the connection that kept Jay at a distance, kept the two of them completely unconnected. Jay told Kirrin, and Kirrin passed it along to Hak'kar.

  What other information Kirrin might be relaying? What did Kirrin tell him about Jay? It never occurred to him that Kirrin’s job was also to be Hak’kar’s eyes and ears within the cottage, and with things concerning Jay’s life and friends. That sudden notion gave Jay a twinge, a slight unease creeping along his skin. He had always presumed that Kirrin relayed what Jay shared, and only that. Kirrin might be spying on Jay --and Jay’s friends. He might be conveying all kinds of things, completely separate from what Jay shared.

  “That is unusual,” Jay answered, realizing that he had lapsed into silence, and not responded to the message. “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “If Hak’kar wished me to relate information to you, he would not have requested your presence,” Kirrin replied, with an edge to his voice that was not lost on Jay.

  Jay blinked, surprised. He had gotten used to Kirrin as his personal servant, and tutor. Jay stood looking at Kirrin, not saying anything, just waiting.

  Kirrin lost the stand-off, sighed, and Jay sensed genuine hurt in Kirrin.

  “I believe that Hak’kar has some plans that concern you directly. I was not, am not, privy to specifics,” Kirrin said. Jay watched, caught the lie, a minor lie. The trouble with reading colors, at least for Jay, was that he didn’t always know what he was seeing. He saw a deception; but not what the deception was, or why Kirrin was trying to hide something.

  “When does he expect to meet? And what circumstances?” Jay asked.

  “He is sending a private barge to pick you up,” Kirrin said with finality, and returned to his work.

  After dusk, as the twin moons were cresting the horizon, Jay stepped onto a barge, from a quiet location, secluded, outside of the central city. The barge was perfectly nondescript on the outside. Nothing to attract attention in any way- no splashy murals or paintings, no house-colors or other distinguishing marks.

  Inside, it was comfortable but shy of lavish. Jay helped himself to a glass of wine, as the boat was piloted to whatever rendezvous Hak’kar had in mind. Before Jay finished his glass, he felt the boat bump against something, and a slight rocking. A moment later, Hak’kar came into the cabin.

  It was strange, seeing Hak’kar again. The soft burgundy velvet and dark green trim against very-white silk. But still, the eyes were what caught Jay's attention. The man presented himself as warm and friendly. But that warmth rarely reached the eyes.

  What struck Jay the most was how flawless
he appeared. Everything was just so. The latest style in clothes, fabric and adornments. To Jay, they seemed like affectations. He reminded himself that Hak’kar was So'har. Jay watched the man and wondered why it seemed like looking at someone who knew he was an impostor. It made no sense.

  But Hak’kar owned any room he entered. That much was still true. Jay could feel that presence, more so now with his heightened senses. Intimidation, veiled threat, power, duplicity all formed a kind of polished surface. It was only Jay’s other senses that gave him the added insights into this formidable man.

  A servant poured wine and set out a plate of cheeses and crisp bread before silently exiting the room. Jay ignored the man until he remembered Kirrin. Was the man a simple servant? Or something more? Perhaps Hak’kar had placed him there for some specific reason. Jay took a slightly too-large sip of wine, using that moment to recover his composure. He coughed slightly, and took advantage of that moment, taking a few deep breaths, reminding himself that there was nothing to fear. He had always served Hak’kar well and faithfully, without ever really crossing the lines with his friends.

  “You have grown into your role quite nicely,” Hak’kar said, eyeing Jay up and down- subtly reminding him that he was a tool, and not truly one of them. Overall, though, Hak’kar looked pleased with himself, satisfied. Jay wondered if this was how a prized horse must feel when on display.

  “It is my hope that I have pleased the So’har,” Jay said. It felt strange. He didn’t know precisely how to engage with Hak’kar. In the streets, there was no formal protocol, nor had young Jay known what proper protocol would have been. In public when they crossed paths, the protocol was formal and understood. Here, though, Jay was at a bit of a loss and had no cue from Hak’kar that told him how to proceed.

  Hak’kar simply watched Jay, taking it in. He looked almost amused, Jay realized. Hak’kar was fully aware and was watching to see what Jay did, how he acted. Jay’s two minds kicked into high speed. One side said to respond with the equal arrogance of a So’Har or Da’har. Another side of him wanted to cut to the relevant topic and bypass all the pomp. In the blink of an eye, those two minds merged, and he sized up Hak’kar, before speaking, in his best formal arrogance.