by Cat Adams
The sniff he let out wasn’t quite a laugh, but Tal could tell he was fighting not to grin. “She does what a good queen should do. She forces open my eyes to see past my blindness to the whole truth.” But then his jaw tightened and the twinkling turned to flashing anger. “I need to know who in my staff you told your story to, Dareen. I apparently make a mistake by not meeting with you myself.”
She shrugged. “You’re king. ’Tis hard to see every visitor who gates in off the street.”
“I should have seen you.” The king turned his head and caught Tal’s eye. With a twitch of his finger, he summoned him forth. Tal couldn’t have withstood the pull even if he’d chosen to, and he had no idea how the man was managing it. I’m not alchemist guild, nor Shambalan. Yet Mumbai was doing it.
In seconds, Tal was standing before the window into the palace. “Do you know this man?” the king asked Dareen.
“Aye, m’lord.” That was the first time she’d referred to him that way, and it seemed to Tal that was how she was accustomed to speaking to him. “’Tis Talos Onan, son of your dearest friend and friend to me own dear boy, Jason. He was the one who confirmed my suspicions about the dark mage. He and the Parask girl, Mila. Is she there with you, too?”
No! Not Mila! He didn’t want her involved. And yet he couldn’t speak and could barely move his body enough to breathe.
Mumbai raised his brows and turned his head slightly with a disapproving expression. “I see from your discomfort that you intentionally chose not to mention this girl. Why? What secrets does she hold? What have you withheld from me?”
Dareen shook her head and then waved a hand at the viewer. “Oh, leave him be, Mumbai. Talos wouldn’t have withheld anything from you, except perhaps the name of the girl. She’s of overworld stock, newly introduced to our kind. He probably fears … and rightly so, that she would be too easily frightened of you. Besides,” she said with a sly wink, “I seem to remember a few of your omissions of fact from your own dear da.”
It was Mumbai’s turn to cough uncomfortably. Dareen was standing up for him and Mila—to a king? But why? She noticed his expression and waved a hand before rising stiffly from her knees. “Bleedin’ hell, but I’m gettin’ too old for all this kneelin’. Kneel to get in, kneel to the minister, kneel to you. Fie on it all.”
It turned the king’s attention back to the reason for the call. Tal let out a sigh of relief. “Which minister? You need to be very clear, old friend, for punishment will likely follow. According to Commander Onan, I was not told the story you came here to tell.”
Dareen’s brows shot up and then her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Apparently, she’d figured out that Mumbai was calling from the O.P.A. offices, because her eyes kept flicking to the background, where agents were moving about. People were trying to ignore the king’s actions, but there were still far more people in the lunchroom than normal for this time of day. “Weren’t ya now? And it took Tal to bring you the news, when ‘twas meself what traveled all this way? Well, then I’ve no issue with revealing that scoundrel to the light. None a’tal. T’was your defense minister, Lobota, who listened to me tale.”
Things happened quickly after that. The king adjourned to another, more private room for several hours. Word eventually filtered down in whispers that after a nearly an hour of hanging upside down in charmed chains, the minister had coughed up a bespelled lapis stone. However, reports also claimed the king remained uncertain of Lobota’s loyalty even after removal of the charm, and had gated rather quickly to the southern border, to review troop locations … personally.
Before Mumbai had left, he’d clapped a broad hand on Tal’s arm and squeezed tight. “While I would prefer this hadn’t happened, I’m pleased with your aid. You’re welcome in Shambala anytime, m’boy. I expect I’ll see you in England tomorrow. Have someone notify me when you arrive. Kessrick and I will be leading the operation personally, while Reginald and Laird will be looking into the problems at the prison.”
So here he was, hours later, sitting in the Vrillian barracks, trying to decide what to do. Kris had returned to the palace to bring King Reginald up to date and ready the guard for action. He and Alexy were officially released from duty in Rohm to help in the operation.
“You missed that volley completely, guv. Where’s your head?”
He blinked and looked up to see the frustration on Alexy’s face. The small bubble of energy they’d been using to test the opal’s precision was hovering up near the ceiling. He looked at his hand. The focus was now housed in a brand new glove gifted by Kris before she left, and it felt good. But it felt wrong, too. It wasn’t really his stone.
He let out a deep breath and shook his head before popping the bubble and flopping down on his bunk. “My mind’s completely befuddled, Alexy.” He reached his thumb up to rub across the dome of swirling colors in the stone. “So many wonderful things have happened, and yet something’s still not quite … right.”
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Mila, would it?”
He slid his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling, the laughter and energy of the other agents seeming hollow and false. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe. I mean, I wouldn’t want her here right now. It wouldn’t be safe. But it might not be safe where she is now, either. I just can’t help but think she’s right about Vegre.”
“Tal—” Alexy’s voice was disapproving.
He turned his head to see the voice matched the face. “I know. I know. Everything points to England. I just can’t help but think that it seems too … easy.”
Alexy let out a donkey bray of a laugh. “You call this easy? Corrupting allegiance spells of several key officials, then sneaking out of prison to form a religion for the sole purpose of capturing guildercents? And let’s not forget locking the captives in an old Scottish Guilder hall and forcing them to dye Easter eggs. You’ve uncovered an amazingly intricate plot, Tal. We’re going to catch this guy because of you. We’ll save the queen.” It was obvious Alexy had spent a bit too long up in England. The awe in his voice for the leader of the British people should be reserved for only his own king.
“I know. And that’s just it. Don’t you see? It was an amazingly intricate plan. So why stop now? All roads are leading to England. A Shambalan minister with a bloody map to the palace in his quarters. A bit of paper found in the ruins with the queen’s seal. An increased number of Demeter’s Children members in London. It might as well be an engraved invitation. It just doesn’t feel right.”
“You know the problem with intricate plans, Tal?” He turned his head to see that Alexy had raised brows and was leaning forward, elbows perched on his knees, hands clasped together. “Hmm?”
Tal sighed. “Go ahead.”
“Too many people are involved. There are too many chances for something to go wrong. If just one thing goes, the whole plan falls apart. Face it, Tal. You were the thing that went wrong. You wrecked his plan.”
That made him shake his head and sit up once more. “Not just me, Alexy. Mila, too. And that’s what’s wrong. She doesn’t think the whole plan’s been revealed yet. There are still loose ends. The old name change in the vault, the gate in and out of her house. And what about the Tin Czerwona? Nobody’s said a word about that. That’s part of the plan, too. It has to be.”
“Bollocks. It doesn’t have to be. It’s purely circumstantial. You don’t know the name change is Vegre’s. There’s probably a Talos Vladimir Onan somewhere up in the over-world. Have you looked? Are you positive you’re completely unique?” He didn’t wait for Tal to speak. “No. Of course you haven’t. None of us have. If there weren’t coincidences in the world, there’d be no such word. You don’t even know for sure that Dareen or the niece—Suzanne?—were infected by Vegre. Could just be a weird outbreak. Again, happens all the time topside.” Alexy reached out and lightly punched his shoulder as a Klaxon sounded in the distance. “Let it go. Let’s get back to concentrating on the operation at hand … right after di
nner, that is.”
It made him smile. Good old Alexy—always thinking with his stomach. “You go on ahead. I’m just going to sit and think for a bit.”
His friend stood and then leaned down to whisper next to his head. “A man can think himself to death, guv. It’s only action that moves the world forward.”
And then he was gone, along with everyone else in the barracks. Dinner was expected to be exceptional tonight, owing to both the forthcoming battle and the availability of magic. Food had been gating in all day—meats and vegetables, spices and sweets. All afternoon the scent of roasting meat and baking pies had been making his mouth water.
But suddenly he wasn’t hungry. He leaned back on the bed again to stare at the ceiling. He could still almost feel the sensation of her next to him, phantom tingles of heat against his skin, and the scent of citrus in the air. Was that what this was all about? Was he merely infatuated with Mila, and not seeing the obvious?
“Does it matter why I have to go back?” Hearing his own voice speaking in the empty room startled him. When did I decide to go back?
The answer was instantaneous. When you realized she was right. He could argue until his face was blue with the others about the possibilities and the probabilities. But he knew she was right.
Trust me. But he hadn’t. It wasn’t logical, so he didn’t. Yet trust wasn’t logical … any more than faith was.
In that one brief flash of the obvious it was suddenly clear. He understood. He lost faith in Mila the moment she took away his faith in the Blessed Tree—the moment the Tree came back to life by her hand. There was no spirit, no guiding force inside the Sacred Trees—it was all just pretty eggs. Why believe in anything at all? Why not just let logic rule?
He didn’t have an answer for that. But it wasn’t fair to let people die just because he was having a crisis of faith. That, in itself, wasn’t logical.
And, too, he needed to see her, hear her voice. He hadn’t been able to reach her even mentally since she’d left. Whether it was him or her didn’t matter. Even now his fingers ached to touch her, his heart pounded at the memory of her drowning deep green eyes, the curve of her lips, the taste of her magic. Love isn’t logical, either.
Again he could argue with himself that it wasn’t love … couldn’t be love this soon, or this strong. But his reactions when her name was spoken betrayed him.
Can there be love without trust? Without faith? As he began to gather his things, hoping that the gate in the butcher shop still worked, he let out a small sigh. I guess I’m about to find out.
The iron eyebolt made an ear-splitting squeal as it slowly ground into the door frame. It was like fingernails on a chalkboard, amplified a dozen times by the narrow hallway. “Man, I don’t know what kind of wood they made this place of, but it’s hell for stout. How you coming with that other one?”
Candy let out a violent burst of air. The battery-powered drill went silent at the same time. “Broke another bit … and another nail. Next time you ask me to take you to the hardware store, remind me to say no.”
Mila smiled. Candy could talk tough, but she was a hard worker when she put her mind to it. She proved it by cranking the second eyebolt into the hole she’d drilled without much effort. “We’re almost done. That’s the last bolt and then there’s just the magical deterrents to spread out.”
Her friend blew a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “I’m not even sure why we’re doing this part. I understand installing the security system and emergency lights. Hell, you should have done that two years ago. I even see why you’d put a double-keyed dead bolt on Sela’s door. But a trip wire? What good will that do? Her door opens in, brainiac. She’ll spot it right away and just step over it.”
“You’d be surprised how the simple things get people, Candy. You’re the one who gave me the idea.” The confused look made her point down the hall. “Don’t you remember that statue that used to stand next to the table? The bronze one of the running girl with the foot that stuck out into the hallway?”
Her friend grimaced and stared at the spot. “I hated that damned statue. Hit my shin on it I don’t know how many times.”
Mila smiled. “Precisely. You hit it over and over, even though you knew it was there. People just forget to look at that height. You look at the floor, you look at arm and head level, but forget the shins. I figure I’ll have ten … maybe fifteen seconds to wake up after they go crashing to the floor. That could mean my life, or my freedom.” She flicked her finger against the nearly invisible piano wire tightly stretched across the doorway and listened to the highpitched ting. “I don’t know if their magic can open dead bolts, but I know Vegre can burn down the door. This won’t burn easily and won’t be affected by air or water magic. And,” she concluded, giving the bolt one final twist, “Even if it doesn’t work, it is worth a try.”
“Well, I do have to admit it’s hard to see, and putting the bolts on the outside of the jamb will make it nearly invisible from both directions. It’ll also be damned hard to yank out. So how much did the security system set you back?”
Mila shook her head and shuddered before rising to her feet and starting to pick up tools. “I didn’t even ask. I just handed Bryan my credit card and told him what I wanted. He said the motion sensors that came with the base unit would cover the house, but there are a lot of windows in this place. Putting those magnetic thingies on all of them probably won’t be cheap. I’m just hoping he’ll remember I’m a neighbor and be kind on the bill. I gave him the last two hundred to get him started. So now I’m broke again until payday.”
“But at least you’re likely to make it to the next payday. Definitely worth it, in my opinion.” Candy helped her carry the tools downstairs and let out a low whistle when she saw the security command unit now attached to the wall near the door. “Wow, you got the fancy one.”
Mila shrugged and put the tools back in the duffel bag before heaving it into the hall closet. “It’s a commercial unit, which is a little overkill. But I got this model because it’s the same one we have at work. I took a whole day of classes learning how to make that one sing and dance and jump through hoops. I know every code by heart and if a red button starts flashing anywhere, I don’t even have to look at the chart to know what it means. Frankly, I just don’t have time to learn another whole system.”
A light caught their attention and they turned toward the front picture window. It was the new emergency light clicking on to illuminate the walkway. Candy pulled up her sweater sleeve and looked at her watch. “Wow. It’s already dark? Man, I’ve got to get going. I didn’t plan to spend the whole day here … not that I mind, of course,” she hastened to add. She touched Mila’s arm, worry making tiny lines appear between her eyebrows. “You going to be okay here … alone? I could cancel my dinner date.”
Mila rolled her eyes and tried to let out a small laugh, even though she was wondering the same thing. “I’ve been here alone for two years now, Candy. Sela only spent a night or two here every week, remember? I’ll be fine.”
She nodded, still worried but then her eyes brightened hopefully. “Have you checked voice mail?”
The sigh that erupted from her chest spoke volumes and though she fought to keep it out, a small thread of hurt wound around the words. “We’ve been here the whole time, Candy. He hasn’t called.”
“But with the power tools running and … oh—” She finally noticed the look on Mila’s face … the one that said she’d already checked. “Well, I guess he hasn’t then, but he might still.”
She had to face the truth, just like Candy did. “It was a fling. A one-night stand. No big deal.”
Candy dropped her coat then and grabbed both sides of Mila’s chin so tight it almost hurt. “No. It wasn’t just a fling, and you know it. I don’t know what it was exactly, but don’t you dare give up hope this soon. You have a look in your eyes that—” Wetness appeared and she blinked it back. “That I pray every night I’ll see in the mirror. It might no
t be love, but it’s something, and it’s worth hanging onto. Okay?”
She’d never seen her friend like this, had never imagined that there was a deeper meaning behind all the flirting and dates and lovers. “Candy, I didn’t know …”
She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “Everyone wants to find that perfect someone, Mila. At first you want it on your own terms, but eventually you start to bend. By the time you’re our age, you start picking and choosing—‘Oh, I don’t really mind being a football widow,’ or ‘I suppose his friends aren’t that bad.’” She let go one side of Mila’s face to touch her hair. “You found one of the good ones—smart and brave and handsome. So he’s a cop, so he’s a mage, so he’s hundreds of years old. Who cares? Of course,” she amended with a tip of her head and rolled eyes, “the elk-squirrel is a little odd, but maybe they taste good. I like elk. One of Tim’s friends hunted one once and brought back steaks. It was pretty good.”
Mila reached up to pull Candy’s hands down and held them tight for a moment. “You’re babbling, sweetie. But yeah—I wish he’d call. I wish I knew he was okay. But I don’t, and all I’ve got to hold onto right now is the thought that if I can stop Vegre, and keep the people at my work safe, then there’ll be a tomorrow. And with a tomorrow. there’s hope.”
Now Candy really did smile. She let go of Mila’s hands and picked up her jacket. “Hope’s good. I like hope. Well, then, I’ll hope everything will be okay here, and I hope he calls you, because it’ll make you happy. And hey, sue me—you’re my friend. I like it when you’re happy.”
There was no way to respond to her that didn’t involve a hug. So she did.
But once she’d closed the door behind Candy and was alone, it was a different story. The house felt big and empty—in a way that it never had when Sela was out. An energy was missing, and she knew whose.
So, rather than concentrate on the energy that was missing , she decided to think about the potential energy in the eggs that had been delivered. She still didn’t know if they were duszats, nor how to make them work. What she did know was the one on the mantel was. Thankfully, it hadn’t been attractive enough for Vegre to take, or he didn’t notice it. Either way, it still rested on the little block of wood.