Sworn To Secrecy: Courtlight #4

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Sworn To Secrecy: Courtlight #4 Page 16

by Edun, Terah


  “I take it you’re looking for something,” he said delicately.

  She lifted a sarcastic eyebrow. “Yes, I am. You wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”

  She watched a mischievous grin cross the daemoni’s face and she thought, Well someone’s feeling better.

  “No, but have you asked the servants?”

  Ciardis almost retorted that of course she hadn’t. Why would any of the servants have the package? But then she remembered that they cleaned and picked things up to dust them like maniacs. They had to—the lord chamberlain insisted on immaculate living quarters. They might have thought it misplaced if it hadn’t been put there by one of their staff.

  Clearing her throat, she ignored Thanar’s grin as she rushed into the hallway and around the corner. She ran smack into a maid carrying a clean pile of folded laundry. The clothes flew into the air every which way and the maid, flustered, dropped to her knees to pick up her strewn laundry. She frantically grabbed at the linens and apologized.

  “Sorry, so sorry, miss!”

  “No, no, it’s my fault. Let me help you.” Soon they were both on their hands and knees gathering linens. And that was where Thanar and Sebastian found them minutes later.

  Mirth flashed in Prince Heir Sebastian’s eyes. “I take it she didn’t have the package.”

  Ciardis gave him an irate look and the maid squeaked, mortified to have her fresh laundry scattered across the floor in front of the prince heir of the realm.

  She snatched the remaining clothes from Ciardis’s hands, gave a flustered curtsy in Ciardis’s general direction, and ran down the hall as fast as her legs could carry her. Before she could round the corner and dip out of their sight, Ciardis called from where she still knelt on the floor, “Wait!”

  The maid turned in the distance. “Miss?”

  “Could you please tell the butler in charge that we’re looking for an imperial package that has gone missing from the study?”

  The maid curtsied briefly again. “Of course, miss.” Then she disappeared.

  Sebastian gallantly held his hand out to Ciardis to help her up. So did Thanar. So she gamely grabbed both hands and let them pull her to her feet. They then retired to the study to await the butler.

  As they sipped on cool lemon water, Ciardis sighed. She had aches all across her body and she couldn’t pinpoint which hurt came from which attack—the Inga incident, the under-dragon’s charge, or the satyr melee.

  Ciardis surveyed the destroyed dining area, gardens, and library of the manor home. “It seems like we’ll never be safe. No matter where we go.”

  Sebastian squeezed her hand. “It’ll get better.”

  Instead of taking comfort in his words, she felt anger build. “Maybe, maybe not. But I think we should go on the offensive. We need to start fighting back. Targeting them before they target us. Starting with the people behind the Shadow Council.”

  Sebastian frowned as he leaned forward. “Didn’t Maree Amber urge you to trust in the Shadow Council?”

  She looked at him. “And she’s dead.”

  “So is Barnaren,” said Thanar with a gleam in his eyes. “Yet you still want to trust the dragon ambassador.”

  Ciardis leaned back and curled her feet beneath her. “The council has proved time and again they’re unworthy of trust. I think it’s time we take heed and find out who they really are. What they really want. Starting with the duke of Carne.”

  A servant walked into the room at that moment. She carried a package wrapped in simple butcher paper and secured with twine. When she spotted Ciardis, she rushed over and curtsied.

  “This arrived for you by courier, my lady. We thought to store it in your room. Didn’t know it was supposed to stay here,” the servant said.

  Ciardis reached out with a relieved expression on her face as she took it. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, miss,” said the servant with another curtsy as she backed out of the room.

  Gripping it tightly Ciardis stared in apprehension at the seal of the Algardis Empire imprinted on the crisp brown paper that wrapped the package. This was the item sent by the emperor in his quest for his sister’s plans. This was another clue into what it was the princess heir had set about accomplishing—perhaps the most important one.

  “Expecting something important?” asked Thanar curiously.

  “No. I mean yes. I mean...I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you open it and see?”

  “We don’t have much time before Vana returns,” said Lillian, re-entering the room with a cheerful voice. “I’ve found a place for us to relocate to—”

  Her voice trailed off as she noticed the visible tension in the room. It was sharp enough to cut a knife with. With an irritated sigh, she moved to stand in the center of the lounge area with her hands on her hips. “All right, what’s going on?”

  Ciardis traced the edges of the imperial seal with a free hand until she could bear the strained silence no more.

  “On the first day we returned to Sandrin, the night of the ball, the emperor instructed me to find out everything I could about the princess heir and her project in the Ameles Forest. He said he would send two items that would be useful from her possessions. This is one of those items.”

  Lillian lifted a cool eyebrow, “Why are we just being notified of this?”

  Ciardis looked up at her mother defiantly. “Because the emperor was explicit—if I told you or anyone else, then he would order your execution.”

  Lillian lifted her chin. “Then he must not find out.”

  Ciardis shook her head miserably as she turned angry eyes on Thanar. “The only reason anyone in this house knows is because Thanar can’t keep his mouth shut.”

  “You’re welcome,” said the prideful daemoni prince while he leaned back on the chaise with his legs crossed.

  But Sebastian’s quiet contemplation beat her to the punch. “He’s right. You can’t do this alone.”

  “And you only have two days before my trial to discover the princess heir’s secrets anyway,” said Lillian, looking directly at the package. “Perhaps whatever is in there will tell us what manner of beast she engaged with to destroy the city of Kifar.”

  “That should solve my father’s quandary,” Sebastian urged. “He only wants to keep the empire stable and my aunt was a master of making calamitous events happen.”

  Ciardis snorted. “That was an understatement. Well, then, I think it’s time we opened the emperor’s first gift.”

  She unsealed the package and slowly revealed its contents. It was a tarnished silver key. No inscriptions on it indicated a use and she had not the slightest idea what it opened. Carefully she prodded it with a hint of magic, hoping the touch of a mage would unlock its secrets. It sat in her hand—still.

  Turning it over and under revealed no clues. Reluctantly she passed it to Sebastian, who passed it to Lillian, who passed it to Thanar. They all tried to extract a reaction from it. They all failed.

  “Any idea what it could open?” Ciardis asked quietly.

  Thanar held it up and began tossing it in the air after a while. “It could be anything. Keys are never just keys.”

  “As much as I wish to disagree, he’s right,” said Lillian. “With the right touch, the right bit of magic, that key could become another object entirely or transform its size from tiny to as big as a horse and unlock the gate of the city of Kifar. We have no idea what power it contains or which lock it fits.”

  “No, we don’t,” said Sebastian. He snapped his fingers at Thanar.

  The daemoni prince obligingly threw the silver key to him. Sebastian caught it in swift hands as he traced the carvings on the key with a fingertip.

  As Ciardis watched him she had an idea; it wasn’t that far of a stretch to think that two things that belonged to one person might also have similar uses. Besides, the key was small enough to fit into the only other object of the princess heir’s that they had in their possession.

  Wit
h excitement she told Sebastian, “The mirror! Can you give it to me?”

  He reached forward to the table and handed over the small and delicate vanity mirror to her.

  With pursed lips and frown lines on her forehead, she bent over it, looking for an opening. Not one presented itself. Then she ran her hand along the base of the mirror. It felt odd—like an opening existed that she just couldn’t see. Hoping against hope, she placed the key against the notch in the base by touch. It slid in with a click. She waited for the mirror to activate. For something to happen. Nothing moved. Frowning, she shook it.

  “Nothing’s happening,” she said in frustration.

  “Perhaps it activates by a specific touch,” said Thanar.

  “If it did, it would most likely be the princess heir’s touch,” said Sebastian as he took it from Ciardis.

  “Or a blood heir,” said Lillian, sipping a cup of hot lemon water. Ciardis grimaced; she couldn’t stand it hot, even in the dead of winter.

  But as they passed it from hand to hand, the mirror didn’t activate.

  “Maybe Vana could do something with it,” Ciardis said in frustration.

  Turning to her mother, she said, “Shouldn’t Vana be back by now?”

  “Patience. The courts are a tedious process,” murmured Lillian.

  Ciardis set the mirror and key down with a thump. “Then let’s talk about something else. Where did you find for us to stay?”

  “Somewhere inside the city,” Lillian said vaguely.

  “Wouldn’t it be better to have the Imperial guards loyal to Sebastian to watch over us directly at court? Surely no one would attack us there,” Ciardis said thoughtfully.

  “No,” said all three voices surrounding her with varying levels of intensity.

  Sebastian said, “There is nothing safe about court. I take it you’ve forgotten the direct attempt of my uncle, the Duke of Cinnis, to have you killed in your own quarters the last time you were in residence?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  Lillian paused. “Greater numbers don’t always mean greater security, Ciardis. Especially in Sandrin.”

  Sebastian added, rubbing his eyes tiredly, “The courts have changed much since I left two seasons ago. Allies have become enemies and enemies become rivals. I fear that without strong swords at my back I can trust, we will never set out to accomplish what needs to be done.”

  “Which is why it’s better to move to a location we can secure ourselves,” finished Thanar.

  Reluctantly, she understood.

  “I’ll go get a map of the city,” Lillian declared, smoothing her hands over her skirt—a quirk Ciardis had noticed that her mother did when she was nervous, much like her own predilection to grip her skirt uneasily in her hands. Of course, her quirk tended to leave creases in the carefully ironed and placed fabric.

  “Why?” said Sebastian with some confusion.

  “Because we’re going to need it where we’re going,” said Lillian.

  Ciardis blinked but didn’t ask more. They were sure to find out everything as soon as Lillian returned anyway. With care she picked up the satyr’s silver mirror from where she had set it down on the table. It didn’t look like much. Just a tarnished oval with perfect mirrored glass on one side. No carvings. No luster. No instructions whatsoever. Gingerly, she called on her magic one last time. If this didn’t work, they were out of luck.

  First she pushed in a spark of magic, then a handful. She slowly released the magic until the flow of her power ebbed in a downward spiral and sunk into nothingness. Just as the ebb ended, the mirror responded. The flat reflective side rippled and she felt the strangest sensation, a sensation like the feel of a mind brushing hers while a sense of gratitude enveloped her. It was as if the mirror appreciated the magic of her touch. So she increased her magic to a stronger stream of power flow, expecting a larger connection. Instead the mirror’s reflective surface disappeared, and another person appeared in its oval surface.

  Chapter 17

  Ciardis stared at a face she hadn’t seen in a quarter of a year. One that brought memories of laughter and pillow fights back to her mind. All of which felt like they had seemingly happened a lifetime ago. Her best friend was robed in a bright summer green mage’s gown with her braided hair falling down her back in locks that had thin pieces of metal coiled around each individual plait. She was whole, she was healthy, and she was well. Not that Ciardis had expected any less, but it was nice to get confirmation once in a while.

  “Ciardis?” Terris repeated her name for the second time. Ciardis distantly recalled her saying it for the first time, but she’d been too entranced in taking in the vision of seeing her for the first time in months to respond. She now sat grinning like a fool.

  “You dolt, aren’t you going to say something?” Terris said.

  She didn’t shout it but the sound blast through the mirror at a high pitch. Ciardis reeled back involuntarily and clapped her hands over her ears in pain.

  Terris winced in sympathy. “Whoops, sorry, have to get the hang of this.” Ciardis could tell she was turning the mirror in her hand because her vision would shift to Terris’s shoulder and back to her familiar head with odd angles.

  “Still too loud,” Ciardis said.

  “Better?” Terris said, her voice pitched low.

  “Yes,” Ciardis said, somewhat in a daze. Sebastian and Thanar moved into a position so they could see the person in the mirror.

  “How are you? Where are you?” she finally had the sense enough to ask.

  But she had already lost her friend’s attention. Terris’s gaze was fixed beyond Ciardis at the two people who stood over the Weathervane’s shoulders. Her mouth had dropped open and a familiar voice asked from out of sight on Terris’s side of the mirror, “What? What is it?”

  Ciardis would recognize that authoritative and grouchy voice anywhere. It was Meres. Terris barely twitched as she raised her hand to bat away Meres’s presence. He was still not in sight of the mirror but very nearby, as they heard the rustle of his movement when Terris pushed him back.

  Dropping her voice to a whisper, Terris said, “Ciardis, is that who I think it is? Is that the prince heir standing next to you? And who’s the hot hunk of burning love next to him?”

  She was talking as if they stood together and were peeking around a corner at the object of their affections.

  Ciardis nearly laughed out loud.

  “You never change,” she said.

  Terris raised an eyebrow. “Would you want me to?”

  “I don’t think I would,” interrupted the prince heir dryly.

  Terris’s face jerked back and her mouth dropped open. “By the gods’ own voice! Oh shit. I mean...I thought he was a projection or something. Ciardis, couldn’t you warn a girl?”

  “You thought I had a projection of the Prince Heir of Algardis standing over my shoulder?” said Ciardis.

  “Sounds less crazy than you think,” Terris said with narrowed eyes.

  “Well, the hot hunk of burning love was not offended,” said Thanar dryly.

  Ciardis snorted, and then the mirror’s visual depiction began to waver. Terris blurred and faded out for a second.

  “What’s going on? Ciardis! Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, but the vision is fading! Do you know how to work this?”

  “No,” said Terris with some inventive curses. “We bought it at the market last week from an old mage who swore that the princess heir was using it along with a bunch of other stuff. Apparently she left it with a few clothes in a hurry a few months back with instructions for the old bat to keep an eye on some sort of beast for her as well as the mirror.”

  Sebastian and Ciardis looked at each other. Ciardis turned back to Terris and quickly said, “Did she tell him where the beast was? Or what it was?”

  Terris frowned. “Not that I’m aware of. Though I’m sure he saw it, since he was reporting regularly. He swore he did what she asked up until the moment she died. Bu
t when she did, the person on the other end with his mirror’s twin stopped answering. So he figured he’d sell it.”

  “Interesting,” said Thanar. “Any chance you can ask him more details about the mirror and beast?”

  “I would if I could,” said Terris, “but he died last week. When he sold it to us, he said that the other mirror had to start working before this one would. So I’ve been using it on my vanity until it started buzzing like a hive of hornets a few seconds ago.”

  “Sounds like that’s what happened when I triggered it from my side,” Ciardis said thoughtfully. “It was a gift from an employer...of sorts. I can’t really explain right now, but I need your help.”

  “With what?” Lord Meres Kinsight quickly asked as he dropped down next to Terris in the mirror’s line of sight.

  Meres respectfully bowed his head in obeisance as he said, “Your Imperial Highness.”

  “Lord Kinsight,” replied Sebastian.

  “Are you two alone?” questioned Ciardis.

  “We are,” confirmed Terris.

  “Good, because we have big news,” said Ciardis.

  “Hopefully starting with who the gentleman to your left is, Lady Weathervane?” said Meres. He never changed—always taciturn and assessing.

  Ciardis flushed. “Right. Um, Lord Meres Kinsight and Lady Terris Kithwalker, may I present Prince Thanar of the Daemoni.”

  Meres’s eyes were uncomfortably perceptive. He didn’t question her judgment. He didn’t question Sebastian’s. But his eyes reserved judgment for a kith whose ascendants had wreaked havoc upon the Algardis Empire.

  “Where are you?” Terris said as she took in the broken staircase behind them and the chandelier that seemed to be hanging on by a thread in the distance.

  “Our home for now,” Ciardis said, deadpan.

 

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