“It wasn’t like I had a choice.”
“I will admit that even if he hadn’t already been kidnapped by Rudra Muralin, Carnades would never have turned over the Scythe to anyone. But attacking—no wait, that would be too dignified—tackling the demon queen was not—”
“Again, I had no choice. Tam needed a distraction, so I—”
“Tam is perfectly capable of causing his own distractions.”
“So I wanted to take down the bitch,” I snapped. “She sent her spawn to feed on students. The kids they would have eaten would have been the lucky ones.” I stopped and exhaled slowly, forcing myself to calm down. I spread my hands. “You do your job; I do mine,” I said in as much of a level tone as I could manage. “I’m a Benares. I can go places and do things that you can’t. Since you had no prior knowledge of my actions, your nose is clean. And since we weren’t caught at Carnades’s house, so is mine.”
“You could have been caught.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“What happened to sending for help? I could have gotten a search warrant.”
“I didn’t have time to wait for help, backup, a cheering section, or anything else. The fact that the Scythe had just been snatched only confirms it.”
Mychael gave me a look; you know the one. “You didn’t have time to wait, or you just didn’t want to?”
Coming clean is good for the soul—and sometimes the temper. I managed a crooked grin. “Both.”
“I assumed as much.” Mychael shook his head, the barest shadow of a smile on his lips. “I should arrest you, if just to save you from yourself. Worse yet, you talked five of my best men into going with you.”
I held up a hand. “Only two came into the house with me. Vegard and Herrick insisted. Vegard wasn’t going to leave me; Herrick wasn’t leaving Piaras.”
“That’s another thing—you took Piaras.”
“He’s a virgin. I had to.”
Mychael blinked. “Excuse me?”
I told him about virgins and the Scythe, purity finding evil, and all that.
Mychael didn’t laugh; but he didn’t need to, those blue eyes of his were doing a fine job of both. And it did an even better job of taking the tension right out of the room.
“Then it was a good thing that you knew about Piaras,” he admitted, trying to keep from smiling. “Finding a virgin on this island on short notice would have been a challenge.”
I snorted. “To say the least. And I suspected about Piaras; I didn’t know for sure.”
“How did you—”
I winced. “I had to ask him.”
“I hate I missed that.”
“I don’t.”
“Sora told me you had gone to Carnades’s and why,” Mychael said. “And Herrick told me you’d gone into the tunnels under the house. I’d just received confirmation that the Hellgate was in the Assembly. Knowing where those tunnels led—but mostly knowing you—I assumed the worst and went straight to the Assembly.”
“I’m glad you did,” I admitted. “Things weren’t going quite as I planned.”
Mychael raised one eyebrow. “What I witnessed was the culmination of an actual plan?”
“More like a loose gathering of possible actions.” I picked at the expensive fabric on the back of one of his guest chairs. “Please tell me you have a better plan for Carnades.”
Carnades knew about our umi’atsu bond, his word carried weight, his accusations would be believed, and if Mychael, Tam, and I were forced to appear before the Seat of Twelve, there would be no doubt. And since the Saghred was involved, even Justinius Valerian wouldn’t be able to save us.
“Carnades knows and so does Rudra Muralin,” I said. “One of them is going to act on that knowledge. Soon.”
Mychael’s face was somber. “It won’t be Carnades.”
“You say that like it’s not good news.”
“Carnades has had one visitor. Markus Sevelien’s ship came in with the high tide, night before last.”
“Dammit, Mychael, you said you’d tell me!”
“You demanded; I never promised. I needed to know who Sevelien saw first. That would be difficult with one of your daggers sticking out of his chest.”
“I just want to talk to him.” My words coming out from between clenched teeth said otherwise.
“And if he didn’t answer correctly, he would have been sporting your steel—or more likely, his security detail would have killed you before you got the chance.”
I froze. “Security detail? Markus has never had one of those before.”
“He does now. Mages, heavy hitters.”
“Which of your men followed him?”
“I did.”
I blinked. The paladin of the Conclave Guardians didn’t follow; he delegated. Then I knew why Mychael trailed Markus himself. Me. Mychael trusted his men, but no doubt some things he wanted to do himself. Because of me.
“Carnades had a meeting scheduled with three of the Seat of Twelve,” Mychael said quietly.
“You have names?”
“I do.” He paused. “After seeing Markus Sevelien, Carnades canceled that meeting. He hasn’t seen anyone since.”
The implications of that kicked an already bad situation into the realm of catastrophic. “Markus told him not to do anything,” I heard myself say. “Yet.”
Given enough time and motivation, I could usually get into someone’s mind. Not literally, but I could observe them enough to know how they would respond in a given situation. It was a knack that had come in handy on several occasions, saving my life in at least two instances. I’d never been able to read Markus Sevelien to save my life—and I just might have to.
“Justinius has two sources inside Carnades’s household,” Mychael was saying. “They said that Sevelien stressed most strongly to Carnades the need to rest, remain at home, and see no one.”
“Sounds like an order to me.”
“It was.”
While I loved the idea of Carnades staying home and keeping his mouth shut, I didn’t like that Markus Sevelien in all probability knew everything that Carnades did. And my blood ran cold at the thought of Markus being the one who was ultimately pulling Carnades’s strings.
“Where’s Markus now?” I asked, though I knew. He wouldn’t be anywhere else.
“The elven embassy,” Mychael confirmed for me.
“And Rudra Muralin is in the goblin embassy.”
“And neither one has left since they arrived.”
“Plots and nefarious deeds are best brewed in one place.” I tried for a quip; it didn’t quite make it.
“Raine, promise me you won’t try to see Sevelien.”
I answered with silence.
“I will be meeting with him myself,” Mychael told me. “As I do with every dignitary or official who drops anchor in our harbor.”
“It sounds like you’ve already set it up.”
“I have.”
“I want to be there.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“For every obvious reason.”
And every last one of those reasons involved me.
“Where are you meeting him?” I asked.
“Here in the citadel.”
That made me feel marginally better. Markus wouldn’t try anything on Mychael’s home turf—at least the Markus I knew wouldn’t. I had no idea what the Markus who could order Carnades Silvanus around was capable of.
“Think he’ll be straight with you as to why he’s here?”
One side of Mychael’s lips curled in a quick smile. “Of course not. They never are. With some it’s like verbal chess. Getting information from Markus has always been more like verbal fencing.”
“Has always been?” I was incredulous. “You’ve met him?”
“On several occasions, either business or politely social.”
“I take it I’m business.”
The crooked smile came back. “I certainly wouldn’t call you polit
ely social.”
“Touché.” I was silent for a time. “Markus knows me, but he’s kept it a secret until now. Though for all I know, he still might not have told anyone. People like him don’t associate in public with people like me. You’d have been better off if you’d done the same thing. I’m a lot of things you don’t need to have anywhere near you, now or ever.”
Mychael leaned back against the closed door and crossed his arms over his chest. “And what kind of things would those be?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.
I was stunned. He actually thought all this was funny. “Infested with an ancient rock of evil should be reason enough. But if you need another: you uphold the law; my family doesn’t.”
“Raine, you aren’t your family,” Mychael told me. He thought for a moment, then let out a little laugh. “Most of us aren’t like our families, and some of us don’t want to be.” He leveled those eyes on me. “You, Miss Raine Benares, are impulsive, trouble personified, you defy me at every turn, and to order you not to do something is a waste of my breath.” He stepped away from the door and slowly came toward me. “But you’re also brave to the point of being damned near fearless, unwaveringly loyal, fiercely protective of those you love, and have literally stormed the gates of Hell to keep them safe.” Mychael stopped directly in front of me; amusement and sincere admiration shone in his eyes. “You’re the most challenging woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.” His voice lowered to a bare whisper. “And yes, I did say pleasure.”
I looked up at him. “Don’t you think ‘misfortune’ would be a better word?”
He laughed. “And you would argue with a fence post.” He reached out and brushed one finger down the side of my face and lightly hooked it under my chin. “Meeting you was not a misfortune,” he said softly. “I meant what I said.” He paused meaningfully. “I always have and I always will.”
“You’re in an umi’atsu bond with me and Tam. Considering who and what we are—”
Mychael lowered his hand from my chin, brushing my arm on the way. “What I did was necessary. And I’ve sent for A’Zahra Nuru for help.”
I just stood there, stunned. “You’ve what?”
“She is well versed in umi’atsu bonds,” Mychael said firmly.
“If help is to come from any source, she’s it.”
Primari A’Zahra Nuru was a powerful goblin mage, and she was the one teacher Tam would admit to having. I’d only met her once, but from what I’d seen she was brave, noble, and definitely not a dark mage. A’Zahra Nuru had been strong enough to help Tam pull himself back from the black magic abyss. Though it was her present position that raised the small hairs on the back of my neck.
“Is she still chief counselor to Prince Chigaru?” I asked.
“She is.”
“And if you’ve sent for her, chances are he’ll come with her.”
“Probably.”
I snorted. “Definitely. He knows the Saghred is on Mid. You just invited his counselor to come to Mid. I don’t think his highness is going to stay home.”
Not that he had a home to stay in. Prince Chigaru Mal’Salin was the younger—and exiled—brother of the goblin king. Chigaru wanted his brother’s throne and wouldn’t mind having his brother’s head on a platter while he was at it. And he saw both of these as being a heck of a lot easier to get if could get his hands on the Saghred first.
“The Conclave has secure accommodations for guests such as Prince Chigaru,” Mychael assured me.
“A containment room on the other side of the island?” I asked hopefully.
“A very secure and well-guarded inn. The prince and his retinue have stayed there before, and I recall that he was pleased with his accommodations—and I was more than satisfied with the security.”
I blinked. “He’s been here?”
“More than once. Since Mid is politically neutral, exiled heads of state know they will be safe here.”
“Last time he was here, the Saghred wasn’t,” I pointed out.
Mychael looked down at me, his smile cheerfully serene.
“Raine?”
“Yes?”
“Leave the prince to me. Leave his retinue to me. Handling visitors with questionable motives is one of the things I do best.”
I gave him an apologetic little grin. “Sorry about that. It’s your job, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“And I’m trying to do it for you.”
“Again.”
“You’re really good at your job.”
Mychael inclined his head graciously. “Thank you. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be standing here to agree with you.”
I knew no one was in the room with us, but I lowered my voice anyway. “Were you also going to ask A’Zahra Nuru about our . . .”
“Situation?” he provided helpfully.
“That’s the one. Does she know about magical connections that you don’t find in books?”
He knew what I was talking about. Our link, our connection. A very deep sense of connection on a very personal level.
“A’Zahra Nuru is considered an expert in magical pairings of all sorts,” Mychael said.
“A pairing.” I said it, wrapping my mind around the words, what they implied, and what they could potentially mean for us.
“And it’s getting stronger,” Mychael said quietly. “I can feel it.”
I could, too.
A pairing. Mychael and me.
A bond. Tam and me—and now Mychael.
A tangled knot. What my life had become.
“The paladin of the Conclave Guardians has gone and gotten himself ‘paired’ with a Benares.” I felt laughter bubbling up and let it. I’d earned it. “You know, to some people on this island, you paired with Raine Benares might actually be a worse offense than getting cozy with the Saghred’s bond servant.”
A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Considering what I’d done over the past few days, I wouldn’t be surprised, either. I grinned crookedly. “We did storm the gates of Hell, didn’t we?”
“We most certainly did.”
“I squashed demons, vaporized demons, and was crazy enough to get into a catfight with the queen of demons.”
Mychael chuckled. “Crazy. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
I ignored him and continued. “You know, when you look at it that way, one little fist-sized rock doesn’t stand a chance against me,” I said brightly. “While Carnades is still ‘resting,’ Markus is still plotting, and Prince Chigaru hasn’t gotten here yet, what say we do something about that rock? Given any more thought to blasting it out of one of Phaelan’s cannons?”
“While that idea is appealing on many levels—”
“You don’t want to risk the rock getting pissed off and blowing up the entire island.”
“Precisely.”
“Okay, fine. No turning the Saghred into a cannonball. I’m open to any and all ideas. But while we have a little breathing room, let’s confront the problem head-on. I’m past ready to roll up my sleeves and get to work.”
Mychael shook his head, smiling. “And the fact that the finest magical minds couldn’t destroy it means nothing to you.”
“Oh, it means something. It means they weren’t as motivated as I am.” I met his smile and raised him a grin. “Or as you would say, as stubborn. Until two days ago, no one thought the Saghred could be opened, either.” I jerked a thumb toward the hall outside the office. “But no one has had my dad as a consultant before. He’s been with the Saghred for centuries; and for the past year he’s been inside of it—so he knows it literally inside and out. He’s free now. With what he knows, and what we can find out, if there’s a way, we’ll find it. Tam thinks that the Saghred caused the umi’atsu bond between us. I agree with him. And a three-way umi’atsu bond is a first, right?”
“I’ve never heard of one before.”
“Then maybe we’re linked in a different way since
the glue that’s holding us together is the Saghred and not each other. Get rid of the glue, get rid of the bond. Get rid of our problem.” I looked at him expectantly. “What do you say?”
“I say you’re right.”
I think my mouth dropped open a little. “You do? I mean . . . I am?”
“I can’t agree with you?”
“It’s just not something I expected.”
Mychael smiled slowly, his eyes lit with a dangerous sparkle. “I can do the unexpected, Raine. It’s not just my job that I’m good at.”
Chapter 32
It was bright and sunny on the Fortune. It was edging toward late afternoon, so the sun had finished baking the wooden decks for the day, and a cooling breeze was coming off the harbor. I was sitting on a bench, working on my third ale, or was it my fourth? I hadn’t bothered to keep count. I’d hauled the small keg up on deck with me to save myself the walk down to the galley, though now it’d probably be more like a stagger.
I’d left Mychael’s office feeling confident enough, but the closer I got to the Fortune, the more my enthusiasm started to wane under the weight of reality. Carnades wouldn’t stay at home forever, Markus would make his move soon, Sarad Nukpana’s soul was out body shopping, Rudra Muralin was in the goblin embassy plotting my death, and the Reapers could find me anytime, anywhere.
Then there was Mychael and Tam—and me with Mychael and Tam. So far I hadn’t had any time to really consider the consequences of our predicament, and I’d been avoiding to the point of denial the fact that a large segment of goblin society considered me married to both of them. Part of me rather liked the idea and felt deliciously naughty about the whole arrangement. The other part of me went with a time-honored Benares solution—if I drank enough, my problems would go away, probably along with my consciousness, but I’d deal with that when I found myself facedown on the deck.
And all of my problems and predicaments were courtesy of a fist-sized, soul-sucking rock.
Where I was sitting, anyone who wanted to spy on me—or take their best shot—could do so to their heart’s content. I didn’t care about that, either, and cared less after each tankard. Vegard and Arlyn had strongly suggested that the safe place for me to do my drinking would be belowdecks. I strongly refused, and in emphatic and colorful terms told them that I was staying precisely where I was and that I wanted to be left alone. They were still on deck with me, but guarding me from a respectful distance. If I fell over—either from ale or a crossbow bolt—I was sure they’d pick me up. I took another long drink. I knew I was behaving like an ass, and I’d have to apologize to them later, but for now I wanted sun on my face and a keg by my side.
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