Bewitched & Betrayed rb-4

by Lisa Shearin

  I turned to Mychael. “And let me guess, Carnades is claiming that you and Vidor Kalta are Tam’s evil minions because you saved his life.”

  “Essentially.”

  “So how did he manage to twist the fact that I killed Tam?”

  “You took the law into your own hands and deprived the Seat of Twelve their due process.”

  “Let me get this straight: he’s pissed at me because he didn’t get to kill Tam.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Mychael, tell me those guards outside are to protect Tam, and not because he’s been arrested again.”

  “He hasn’t been arrested,” Mychael assured me. “Nor will he be.”

  “And just who is going to pull off that feat?”

  “I am,” Tam said. “By pulling the legal rug right out from underneath Carnades or anyone else who cares to challenge me.” He paused uncomfortably. “Sarad Nukpana possessed my body for nearly three hours. That included every soul Sarad absorbed trying to regenerate himself.”

  “General Daman Aratus, two ancient goblin black mages, and Rudra Muralin.”

  Tam nodded. “There were others as well, poor bastards who Sarad managed to snatch off the streets to sustain himself until he was strong enough to go after bigger game. He absorbed all of their memories, knowledge, and skills. Sarad used my mind to function, my body to act.”

  I didn’t need a reminder. I also didn’t need to think about how close he came to getting away with everything, most of all what he’d done to Tam.

  “He was in my mind—and I was in his,” Tam said quietly. “Raine, I know Sarad Nukpana’s plans and precisely how he intends to carry them out. Every step of the way.”

  “And now he’s running home to share his plans and all of his newfound knowledge and power with his evil cohort, Sathrik Mal’Salin.”

  “Sarad will use the king only as long as it is convenient. Sathrik’s crown and throne will be irrelevant once Nukpana puts his plans in motion. Sathrik will be a figurehead king, or he’ll be dead. Once he realizes that his former partner in crime has turned against him, Sathrik will go along, waiting for an opportunity to have Nukpana killed.”

  I snorted. “Like that’s going to happen.”

  “You’re right. It won’t. Sathrik will be a puppet or he’ll be dead, and the choice won’t be his to make. When Sarad no longer needs him, he’ll kill him. He can’t afford to let him live.”

  “King Sarad Nukpana does have a certain ring to it,” I said, “and not a good one. But he doesn’t have the Saghred. And he sure as hell isn’t getting his hands on me. I’m not going anywhere near Rheskilia.”

  “You won’t need to,” Mychael said quietly.

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “You shouldn’t. Nukpana was only in direct contact with the Saghred through Tam and your umi’atsu bond for a short period of time.”

  “An hour, maybe a little more,” Tam said. “But it was enough.”

  I knew I didn’t want to hear this. “Enough for what?”

  “You have only had direct contact with the Saghred on a few occasions,” Mychael said, “and only for a few seconds each time. And each one of those times you fought that contact.”

  “Sarad didn’t fight,” Tam said. “He was absorbing power like a sponge. And with Rudra’s knowledge, and the power of those two ancient mages, you can bet Sarad is going to make the most of everything he got.”

  “You retained the power that the Saghred gave you,” Mychael said. “So will Sarad Nukpana.”

  The implication of what Nukpana was now capable of was staggering. “Even though he doesn’t have the rock itself, he picked up plenty of new evil tricks, tricks he can’t wait to take home and use.”

  Mychael nodded. “So destroying the Saghred has never been more important. If Nukpana wants to increase his power—and he will—he needs the Saghred itself. He’s not on the island any longer to do it himself, but Tam tells me that there are some individuals in the goblin secret service who are more than up to the task.”

  I looked at him sharply. “Imala?”

  “Imala is on our side,” Tam assured me. “She’s been here and we’ve talked.” His lips became a thin line and his brow furrowed. I knew that expression only too well. It was the one that said he’d been wrong and he didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t approve of some of the choices Imala has made. Being stuck here in bed gave me a lot of time to think, and I’ve realized that I’m the last person who can stand in judgment of her.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how you plan to pull the legal rug out from underneath Carnades.”

  Tam frowned. “It explains it all. What Imala said is true; I resigned my position at court, but Queen Glicara didn’t accept my resignation. She was murdered before she could do so. Imala knew who was responsible and why, so she immediately went through Glicara’s royal papers and took anything that she felt might be advantageous to have in the future.”

  “Your resignation was one of them.”

  “Correct. With the document in her possession, it is as if it were never written.”

  “And you never resigned.”

  Tam nodded. “It’s not unusual for a goblin noble to leave court for a time to avoid having a dagger planted between his or her shoulder blades.”

  “And Sathrik never officially stripped Tam of his rank and position,” Mychael said. “Since Tam left the court voluntarily, he didn’t deem it necessary.”

  “Too busy plotting evil.” I looked at Tam for a long moment. “So you are still a duke and the chief mage for the House of Mal’Salin.”

  Tam inclined his head. It was the same way he’d always done it, but I noticed for the first time how regal it was.

  “Diplomatic immunity,” I said. “Carnades really can’t touch you.”

  “No, he can’t.”

  “Not unless he and Balmorlan want to start that war of theirs now,” Mychael said. “And they’re not ready. Neither are their allies. Unfortunately, neither is our queen or army.”

  I froze in place. “What do you mean ‘unfortunately’? We don’t want a war.”

  “No, we don’t. However, Sarad Nukpana has the magical skill and force he needs now to start one. Plus he has all of the memories and knowledge of General Aratus. The elven forces would be crippled before first blood was spilt.”

  “And Sathrik doesn’t give a damn about what our people want,” Tam said. “He’ll want to strike before the elves are ready. So we have to stop him before it goes any further.”

  “Stop him?” I asked quietly.

  “Preemptive strike. The most successful battles are fought from the inside.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. “You’re going back.”

  “Returning to Regor now would be suicide.” Tam flashed a grin. “I’ve been dead once; it’s not an experience I plan to repeat anytime soon.”

  “But you just said ‘from the inside.’ ”

  “With like-minded goblins and allies here on Mid. The island’s neutrality makes it perfect for clandestine meetings.”

  I glanced at Mychael.

  “Sathrik has openly threatened the Isle of Mid and our people unless we return Sarad Nukpana’s body.”

  I had an unwanted flashback to Janos Ghalfari’s reanimated corpse grinning at me. “We definitely don’t want to gift wrap that thing and send it to Sathrik.”

  “No, we don’t,” Mychael agreed. “The Guardians are a peace-keeping force, and we will keep the peace whatever the means. We are also the keepers and protectors of the Saghred. Anyone who attempts to remove the stone from this island is fair game.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Markus Sevelien likes it even better. And since it is in the best interests of both the elven and goblin peoples that the Saghred not fall into Sarad Nukpana’s or King Sathrik’s hands, Markus has requested a meeting with Imala Kalis to negotiate and reach certain agreements.”

  I looked at Tam. “And you’re goi
ng to be smack-dab in the middle.”

  “I have a responsibility to my people—and to my son. A reign under Sathrik and Sarad would mean death, not only for the goblin people, but for elves and humans alike. Talon and others like him would be slaughtered or worse. It has to stop. Now. I will not stand by while others fight my battle. I not only know Sarad’s plans; I know how he thinks. That makes me the best qualified to stop him.”

  I blew out my breath. “Okay, then. Besides me, Mychael, and Imala, who else has got your back?”

  Tam went as still as a statue.

  “Don’t give me that look,” I told him. “If this is anyone’s battle, it’s mine. I’m in it with you.” I flashed a fierce grin. “You’re not the only one who wants a piece of Sarad Nukpana.”

  “As to my allies, not everyone at the goblin court wants my head on a platter,” Tam told me. “Many of them are from the old families, powerful and influential. Imala has been cultivating even more allies. And as Sathrik’s behavior has grown increasingly erratic, even those publicly allied with him would change their allegiance if a better and stronger candidate presented himself.”

  I knew exactly where this was going. “Prince Chigaru Mal’Salin.”

  I didn’t like the prince. It wasn’t easy to forgive someone who had used Piaras as bait to kidnap me and then threatened him with torture to get me to find the Saghred for him. Somehow I didn’t think his manners had improved any since then. The prince was cunning, manipulative, and ruthless, and conspiracies and plots were recreational activities. In other words, a Mal’Salin. But he could be reasoned with and he wasn’t nuts. Those were two distinctions that his brother couldn’t claim.

  “What would Sathrik have to say about you impersonating his right-hand mage?” I asked Tam.

  “Sathrik is presently without a right-hand mage.”

  I arched a brow. “He never gave Nukpana the job?”

  “Sarad being the high priest of the Khrynsani would have been a conflict of interest—and too many powerful nobles would have objected. Sathrik couldn’t risk it.”

  “And if Sathrik knew that legally you were still his chief mage?”

  Tam smiled. “His Majesty would have a royal apoplexy.”

  “That’d be fun to watch.”

  “Yes, it would. Then he’d send every assassin he could hire, bribe, or blackmail after me.”

  I frowned. “How loyal are your dark mage friends?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If Sathrik sends hired blades after you, any goblin who defends you is committing treason. Are they loyal to you or their own necks?”

  Tam gave a short laugh. “They won’t see why they can’t do both.”

  “How about Talon?”

  Mychael and Tam exchanged amused glances.

  “What have you done to the kid?” Though if Talon hadn’t gone running off, he wouldn’t have gotten himself captured by Sarad Nukpana, Tam wouldn’t have gone looking for his son, and Nukpana wouldn’t have caught and possessed Tam.

  And I wouldn’t have had to kill Tam.

  My fingers started curling into fists. “Let me rephrase that—what can I do to the kid?”

  Tam’s black eyes glittered mischievously. “At this very moment, Talon is being instructed that his actions, no matter how well intentioned, can have fatal consequences, and not only to him. He is also being encouraged to recognize the difference between right and wrong, or at least grow something that faintly resembles a conscience.”

  I grinned. “He’s here in the citadel, isn’t he?”

  “With Piaras,” Mychael confirmed. “Piaras’s tutors are now Talon’s tutors. Justinius and Ronan are helping.”

  I whistled. “I’ll bet Talon doesn’t consider any of it helpful.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Tam said. “But it’s needed. I’ve been teaching him how to fight, but he needs to learn more—and he needs more discipline than I can provide.” He sighed, then drew in a slow breath. “When I look at Talon, I see myself at his age. He’s coming into his full power entirely too fast, just like I did. I will not have him go down the dark path that I did. I thought I could handle it all myself, but I was wrong.”

  “Reining in and properly focusing impulsive young talent is what Guardians do best,” Mychael said with a slight smile.

  And it had taken more than reining in to keep Talon from following us the day we’d chased Tam/Nukpana in that coach. Dad had more than had his hands full. From what I heard, it’d taken three good-sized Guardians, plus Piaras, to hold the kid down. Dad suspected something bad was going to happen to Tam, and knew that his son most definitely did not need to see it. Me shooting his father down in the street certainly qualified. Grateful didn’t even begin to describe what I felt for those Guardians who’d essentially sat on Talon.

  “Anyone that comes after me will also consider Talon a target.” Tam’s jaw clenched and his tone turned cold with anger. “And as a half-breed, Talon has no rights under goblin law. If he was caught, Sathrik could legally do anything with him that he wanted. I’ve asked Mychael and he has agreed to accept Talon as a provisional cadet. After three months of training, he’ll be evaluated, and if he is deemed worthy, he’ll be accepted as a full cadet.”

  I nodded in approval. “And he would be under Guardian protection and law.”

  “As a provisional cadet, he is now,” Mychael said.

  “Elves don’t recognize his existence,” Tam said. “Goblins despise him. This was the only legal step I could take to protect my son.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Now that Talon’s as safe as he can be, what exactly is it that you’re going to do?”

  Tam’s smile was a baring of fangs. “It’ll be like just another day on my old job: destroy an archenemy, depose a king, and put an exiled prince on the throne.”

  Chapter 25

  Sarad Nukpana’s body was in a crystal coffin woven with spells to keep it from being opened from the outside—or the inside.

  Mychael wasn’t taking any chances.

  One of the spells inside the coffin was to preserve his corpse. The mortician who prepared the body and worked the spell called it “perpetual repose.”

  I called it creepy as hell.

  Sarad Nukpana was still perfect, still darkly beautiful. He had a shadow of a smile on his face, like he knew something we didn’t, something that was about to bite us all on our collective ass.

  I had no doubt that he did.

  The coffin was in a tower in the highest point of the citadel and at the farthest point from the Saghred. The stairs to the top could be revealed by a spell that only Mychael and Justinius knew. The circular room had one door, no windows, and was lit bright as day.

  That had been my request.

  Goblins didn’t like bright light. I did. And for some irrational reason, I also liked knowing that Sarad Nukpana wasn’t lying in the dark. Bad things happened in dark places. Sarad Nukpana was most definitely a bad thing.

  I’d wanted the body destroyed and the ashes scattered to the winds in the far reaches of all seven kingdoms. That would get rid of Sarad Nukpana’s body, but it wouldn’t destroy him. His rotten soul was safe and secure in the body of his dearly departed uncle Janos. Janos Ghalfari’s soul was long gone, so Nukpana had the house all to himself, so to speak. Just him and the souls of his closest allies—his own frat house of evil.

  Two days ago, King Sathrik had sent Justinius Valerian a letter demanding that unless Nukpana’s body was returned undamaged to Regor within the month, he would declare war against the Guardians, the Conclave, and the Isle of Mid, and come and get the body himself. Mychael and Justinius had no intention of returning Nukpana’s body, but it never hurt to have an ace in the hole just in case. Hence the mortician’s creepy reposing spell.

  I’d gone to the tower room this morning. I had wanted . . . No, I had needed to see Sarad Nukpana’s body for myself. Vegard had come with me. He’d become my most welcome shadow. He kept expecting that Reaper to come
back to collect.

  So did I.

  But Reapers were eternal; I wasn’t. With any luck, I’d be old and gray before it remembered my offer and came back. No, I didn’t believe that, either. You knew you had too much bad crap in your life when Death’s minion had become the least of your worries.

  It was now early afternoon and I was back on the Fortune. Four more days had passed since Mychael had pronounced Tam fully healed—and Tam had announced that he was personally declaring war on Sathrik Mal’Salin and Sarad Nukpana.

  “Hell, I’d be glad to haul the stiff back to Regor,” Phaelan was saying, as he handed me the drink I’d desperately needed after viewing Sarad Nukpana’s perpetually reposing corpse. “Things fall overboard at sea all the time.” He flashed a grin. “Especially dead goblin psychos.”

  I remembered Nukpana’s still lips with their all- knowing smile. “Define dead,” I muttered.

  Phaelan poured himself a whiskey. “By the way, Mago’s on his way here.”

  I was in mid-swallow and almost choked. “Here? Is that good? For anybody?”

  My cousin chuckled. “This island is teeming with weasel mages and politicians; how much more trouble can a weasel banker be?”

  We both knew the answer to that one. But at least this weasel was related to us.

  “Besides,” Phaelan continued, “Mago is the hands-on type. He’s set our plan in motion and has a person he can trust pulling the strings at the bank in D’Mai. Mago prefers to be as close to his mark as possible when an operation goes down.” Phaelan raised his glass and drained it in one toss. “My brother takes great pride in his work.”

  I groaned. God help us all, and not just from conscientious weasel bankers.

  The Fortune had been deemed to be the safest place to meet—or at least the most neutral and agreeable territory.

  Markus Sevelien wanted to talk to Imala Kalis.

  Markus had come over from the Red Hawk under cover of both darkness and tarp. There was a time and a place for Markus to let the world know that he was alive, but here and now wasn’t it. My sometime employer would wait until his return from the dead would have the maximum benefit for him and the elf queen, and do the most damage to Taltek Balmorlan and his allies. I really wanted to see Balmorlan’s face when that happened.