by R. K. Thorne
But… they had more pressing matters. He could demand Miara’s freedom and dismiss their concerns completely, but at this point, that might be interpreted as irrational or irresponsible, especially by Toyl. Not the best way to win their good faith as their leader. And if Alikar had some scheme that involved getting Miara imprisoned somewhere and getting to her—Aven wanted to thwart that completely before he had the chance.
“Her rooms then, under constant guard,” Aven ordered. “Devol will take up part of the watch and oversee. If we keep constant watch, we’ll know for sure.”
Miara’s eyes widened, and he felt a pang in his chest. She didn’t understand he knew she hadn’t done this. The fear in her eyes spoke volumes, that even he might believe this was real. How could he give her some indication that this was all to spite any nefarious plan of Alikar’s? If only he could dip into her thoughts the way she could dip into his.
“If she wanted to kill him, why would she come strolling up casually just after the attempt?” Devol grumbled.
“Perhaps she meant to throw us off by returning quickly,” Toyl said.
“She’s been with me the whole time,” Elise snapped.
“Well, there were two of them.” Alikar, damn him.
Aven sighed. “Enough. You heard my orders. Dev—choose the guards yourself, please. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this, Miara. Toyl, will you escort Devol and these guards to her quarters so you can see that this is carried out?”
“Of course, my lord.” Toyl gave a bowing nod.
“I’m not leaving until your arm is on the way to healed,” Dev insisted. “Can one of these mages use that fancy magic on you now?” He was right. After that attempt, it probably wasn’t the best idea to hobble around alone and injured.
“I’ll stay with Aven too,” Elise said, releasing Miara into the guard’s grip. A knot in his stomach tightened at the sight.
“Fine,” Aven grunted. The weakness returned, and he slumped against the wall again. Hell, who was doing it? Where were those damn mages? “Miara, will you…”
“I’ll be fine.” Miara nodded to the guards, perhaps realizing the queen needed Miara’s captors to leave before Aven could be healed. “Will you come so we can talk about this later?”
“Of course.” Aven sank to a seat and watched them guide her away as his stomach twisted into further knots. He had a sinking feeling that putting her under guard was exactly what someone wanted them to do. She was not in the dungeons, and Dev would handpick her guards, but… that was just a dungeon of a different kind. Whoever had attacked him could just as easily attack her. Especially if they were a fly on the wall nearby, listening to all their carefully made plans.
Who could be behind this attack? His legion of enemies grew every day. While Toyl could be either friend or foe, Alikar simmered with hostility. And of course, the Dark Master would not be sitting idly by, accepting Aven’s escape and moving on to a different plan. His shoulder throbbed in phantom pain at the thought of that bastard. The timing, so close to the cave-in, could not be a freak event. Mages had to be the cause. Who was more likely to employ mages, his Akarian enemies or his foreign ones? Certainly Daes had far more mages to wield than the others. If Aven were the Dark Master, what would he be trying to do?
But even as the idea formed, he knew. Daes would be trying to kill him. Aven wouldn’t hire an assassin or force a mage slave to do such a thing on his behalf. But the Dark Master definitely would. And he would have more than one plan of attack in store so that if some of them failed, he would still have a chance at victory.
What would his other attacks be? How had they infiltrated Estun? Whose faces were behind those masks?
As he sat, pondering, his mother healed his arm without comment, only giving him a slight warning as she yanked the quarrel from his arm. For not being a warrior, she sure could handle blood. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it.
“We’ll figure this out, Aven,” Devol said, struggling to sound encouraging.
“Yes. We have to.”
10
Truths & Accusations
Miara stripped off the bloody leathers and cast them aside, hoping they weren’t totally ruined and Camil would know what to do with them. The blood rinsed away, and she found a fresh tunic that she happily put on alone for once. Its softness was welcoming, to her surprise.
She tried to wait patiently for Aven to join her, to offer some explanation of what the hell had happened that had led to them bringing her back here. She alternated between sitting and pacing. As the minutes ticked by, she gradually succumbed to exhaustion and the lure of the cushions and drifted off to sleep.
She awoke to a knock on the door being answered by one of her courteous new guards. And if I hadn’t wanted to get up just now? She stifled a grumble to herself. It didn’t matter. They were right—she would have answered to see if it was Aven, or someone similar. And really, who else could it be?
She sat up. The door-answering guard was none other than Devol himself. And sure enough—her visitor was Aven, arm freshly healed, if still bloodied. He didn’t look pale from the blood loss, though. Small wins.
“What by the gods happened, Aven?” she demanded, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“Some harpies disguised as you tried to kill him,” Dev answered for him. “And I was lucky enough to walk in on the tussle. Good fun, if you ask me.”
“Says the one who walked out without a scratch.” Aven grinned.
“Oh, you liked it. You’re probably out there waving that arm around at every captain and young recruit you can find. You look just fine if you ask me. Gotta say that healing magic is powerful stuff. We’d be fools to turn our eyes from that outta some foolish religious nonsense. Not sure how keeping people alive is so evil.” Dev’s eyes darted around to the guards as he spoke, as though he was keen to the fact that many might disagree with such words. Was he testing them? Perhaps looking for those who might not be such a good fit for this post? Clever.
“At least one of them was a creature mage.” Aven came to sit beside her, and Dev joined them in a nearby chair. “Could have been both, but I don’t think so.”
“And you said they were disguised as me?”
Aven nodded. Damn. That was smart on their enemy’s part and took planning, preparation. “Of course, the Dark Master would think of such things.” Aven’s pale eyes studied the fireplace as he rubbed his shoulder absently. She wondered if it was truly healed yet. He had not let her speed their healing or repair the scars, though she could understand why.
“The Dark Master?” Devol asked.
“He was one of four masters in control of the slaves in Mage Hall,” Miara explained. “But the one most interested in Aven. The one who sent me on my mission—” She faltered, unsure of how much Aven and his family had really explained to anyone. “Also, he’s far more cunning than the others. I think they’d be content to live out easy lives, ordering us around and abusing their power. But not the Dark Master. He seems intent on something—I’m not sure what. At the very least, Aven’s death, although to what end?”
“Well, war with Akaria, for one thing,” Aven muttered. “And my personal death as part of that plan, partly because I’m a prince of Akaria. And partly because… I know magic he doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“The magic to free the slaves?” Devol asked.
“Yes.” Aven bowed his head. “So you think it had to be the Dark Master? What about one of these other lords, unhappy with recent revelations?”
“Why use me against you then? And how many of them have access to mages, let alone ones who could imitate my image well? You say it was convincing? Accurate?”
“Fairly. The face was, on both of them.”
“Could have fooled me, if there weren’t two of them,” Devol grumbled.
“The bodies were off. I don’t think it was a complete illusion,” Aven said.
“They probably couldn’t do that without having me in their custody t
o reference.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Aven said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Why not? I’m just trying to teach you what’s possible.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.” He shook his head and ran a hand over his face.
She took a risk and laid a hand on his arm for a moment. Without the slightest hesitation, he laid his hand over hers and squeezed. She wanted to laugh but stifled it into the smallest smile she could. He was really not very good at keeping secrets.
“And they got away, it seems?”
He nodded, scowling. “Think they transformed somehow to hide. They can’t just disappear, right?”
“No, they can’t. There have been very rare stories of air mages figuring out how to disappear for very short periods of time, but they are probably just rumors. Who wouldn’t want their enemies to think they could be nearby and invisible? But even if it is possible, it’s not for creature mages.”
“I think the one that attacked was not a mage. Unless they were also a very good fighter. They seemed dedicated to the study.”
Miara shrugged. “It’s possible there were some good fighters among the mage slaves. I just don’t know.”
Devol cut in. “The one I fought just tried to dodge me, make herself smaller, faster. She was definitely a mage, form shifting this way and that. Quite a strange sight to behold. Wouldn’t fight me. But did you notice the choice of weapons on your opponent, Aven?”
“Yes, short sword and hand ax.”
A chill ran through Miara. “The same weapons that I practiced with yesterday morning.”
Aven frowned. “When?”
“In the Proving Grounds.”
“You didn’t mention it.”
She gave him a half smile. “I was hoping to surprise you. Perhaps with a duel. Not at this point, apparently!”
“She was far better than you, though,” Devol added. Miara glared at him in spite of herself. “No offense! You haven’t had much practice!”
She sighed. “I only know the dagger.”
“You’ll get there—don’t worry, my girl.”
“Don’t call me a girl.”
“He calls me a boy too. And my father. But cut it out, Devol.”
Dev wrinkled his mustache as though his nose were itchy and gave them a grin. “All right, all right. The point is, unless you’re great at hiding your ability, which is damn hard, that attacker was far more skilled than you with those weapons. And a lot of other weapons, I’d wager. Seems like they picked them specifically to impersonate you more convincingly.”
“Who else saw you two there?” Aven asked.
“Thel was there. Talking to Renala.” Miara’s gut twisted at the thought. Thel seemed like a good fellow, and rather innocent and naïve, as Aven had been—and in some ways still was. She’d hate to think he was behind this. And yet, he stood to benefit a lot from any downfall of Aven’s. He could claim he didn’t want the crown, but he could easily be lying. He had also sat talking with Renala—what if he had designs on the beautiful, graceful, noble dvora, and Aven was all that stood in his way? “How much do you trust your brother, Aven?”
“Completely,” he replied quickly, without hesitation.
Dev was nodding in agreement. “Hmm. Renala and her lady in waiting were also there.”
“The dvora?” Aven asked.
“Yes.”
“But she arrived here before we did,” Miara pointed out. “If the Dark Master sent her from Kavanar, she couldn’t have gotten here more quickly than we did.”
“Unless she was meant for my brothers?” He tapped his chin with his finger, thinking. “Or as a spy. What if Daes had already sent Renala before we’d even escaped?” Why did Aven call the Dark Master by his real name and not his title? What had he seen from the Dark Master? Had they spoken? There had been time to talk on the journey to Estun, and she’d seen the burn marks, many of which Aven had agreed to let her heal. But they hadn’t talked in great detail. It wasn’t exactly something she thought either of them wanted to revisit.
“One way to find out. Confront her about it!” Devol’s eyes lit up with too much glee at the idea, and Aven snorted. But then he nodded. “I’ll go and get her myself. If you two can stand to be alone without me while I’m gone.” He jumped from his seat and was out the door with a snicker.
Miara raised her eyebrows. Then she glanced down. Aven’s hand still covered hers.
“Is it that obvious, you think?” she said softly.
Aven smiled crookedly and gazed down into the fire, not meeting her eyes. “I’m not sure. Maybe. We’ll tell my father, definitely not.”
She snorted.
“I mentioned it to Toyl. She was not terribly surprised.”
She shook her head. “You going to tell the king about that?”
He looked at her with twinkling eyes. “Hey, I’m keeping secrets as best I can.”
“You’re not so good at it.”
“Never have been. Isn’t that what got me into this mess?”
As if in mocking agreement, the air around them picked up, little currents of air swirling the room. The guards shifted uneasily. Miara grinned. And this time, it did not calm after a few moments but continued listlessly, stirring the air and teasing the flames and embers in the hearth.
I thought the Dark Masters got us into this mess, she whispered.
But you got us out of it.
You give me too much credit.
No. I don’t.
“Did Toyl object?” she asked eventually as her mirth settled.
“She was noncommittal. Said I would find out her vote at the Assembly. A lot of the Assembly members like to maintain an air of impartiality. Of distance. Probably good for them. She said nothing to make me think she didn’t support us, though. Me, I mean.”
Her smile broadened at that turn of phrase. How much were these guards picking up from the conversation? How much were they paying attention? At this point, he apparently didn’t care.
The door creaked as it opened, revealing first Devol and then Renala. Aven took back his hand, and his face hardened. They rose in greeting.
“My lord, Prince Aven. Lady Miara. You wished to speak with me?” Her elegantly-painted eyes were wide, worried, far from cunning. No one had ever had kohl in Mage Hall. So many facets of the world open to Miara now, she didn’t know what to make of them.
“I’m not a lady,” Miara said quickly but returned the dvora’s curtsy with a bow. Was she supposed to be curtsying? Had she offended everyone by bowing all this time? Certainly Aven would have told her. Wouldn’t he have?
“Thank you for coming, Renala,” Aven said. “We have some serious things to discuss. Would you sit down with us, please?” She nodded and sat in the seat as close as possible to Aven, and Miara tried not to clench her jaw at that fact.
“We know you were behind the assassination,” Devol said abruptly.
Gods, Aven. Can you accuse her so directly? Should we have talked to your parents about this?
It’s a ploy. Wait and see. I do have authority, though, yes. We have to work fast, before word can spread.
“What?” Renala blurted, horrified. “What assassination?”
“Don’t pretend,” Devol said calmly. “We know all about it. That’s why you came here to Estun in the first place, isn’t it?”
“What are you—no—” Miara had never seen the dvora’s tan skin look so pale. She wore a low-cut violet silk gown that even Miara had to admit looked lovely and soft and maybe even comfortable, but it heaved dramatically as she started to take faster, panicked breaths. Was that the panic of being found out, or being wrongly accused? Or was it knowing how to heave your chest to distract men at appropriate times?
Renala stood, conscious of being about to lose her composure, and took a few steps away to face the fire. “Please, I had nothing to do with anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m sure I can find some way to prove it. I was at the demonstratio
n this morning—then I went back to my rooms—”
“It was shortly after the demonstration and the cave-in thereafter that the attack occurred.”
She whirled. “I told you I don’t know how to—”
“What were you doing at the Proving Grounds yesterday morning then?” Devol demanded.
“I—simply wanted to watch.”
The master of arms glared fiercely at her.
“What? I’m sorry—what does that have to do with anything?”
“You were looking for clues to best impersonate someone, weren’t you?”
Renala frowned in what seemed to be genuine confusion. “Impersonate someone? Who?”
“Then why?”
“I just… I wanted to ask for lessons as well.” She scowled, casting a clearly jealous glare at Miara. “I was too afraid.”
Oh. That made sense, with her behavior and her hesitation to ask if she could watch. By now, Miara was thoroughly convinced that she was uninvolved. But… then why the similar weapons? Could it have just been a coincidence?
The men did not seem similarly convinced. Devol leapt to his feet as well and strode toward the dvora. She turned as he approached, backing away with wide eyes. It was not the stance of a competent assassin, that much was for sure.
“You sought to take the prince’s life,” Dev thundered.
“No, I would never, you are mad—”
“I think you look like just the right type to offer a sizable reward,” Devol said coldly, inches from her now. “A bounty on a prince’s head would be enough to set you up anywhere comfortably.”
“I would never—I thought I could make a place here away from—maybe not as a wife but as something. I would never have endangered that chance. I’m so stupid. I should have known this wouldn’t work.” She buried her face in her hands.
Renala’s despair twisted knots in Miara’s stomach. Perhaps there was more to this woman than her beauty. But then, of course there was. There always was. How foolish to have ever thought otherwise. How could she let her feelings blind her so thoroughly?