No, it wasn't an obsession placed by a Sirenali. It was an obsession that psychiatrists might want to treat. Somewhere, deep inside my brain, lay a need to make things right, no matter the cost.
I'd fought battles with it in the past, and lost every time.
"I have this," Phorr lifted a small satchel at his feet and handed it to me. "Gold. There will be much more if you do as we ask. I only want you to disguise yourself—like this." He handed a comp-vid to me, which bore an image.
The one depicted was dead—I could see that by Looking. Barstle Cardino was desperate enough to kill in order to cover his actions.
I wanted to ask whom Barstle was afraid of. That information, like so much other information needed or wanted, was fogged and out of reach.
That spelled Sirenali involvement—strong Sirenali involvement.
"What does he want first?" I asked.
"He wants to get away," Phorr hissed. "With me and a few others."
* * *
Le-Ath Veronis
Lissa
I know you don't want to hear from me, he sent. But I have the criminal Barstle Cardino within my grasp, if you or those parked in Mundia want to see him.
I knew in a moment that instead of Corolan, who was supposed to answer the ad from Vic'Law, my father had gone in his stead.
You have him right this minute? I demanded.
I will have him shortly. I'm currently disguised as a servant that Cardino killed in order to explain my presence in Puntia, he replied. I'm staying long enough to see who now holds the upper hand against him, making him want to leave and promising a ridiculous amount to do it.
Just grab him, I said. I'll have Kaldill and Daragar modify the shield around Mundia to let you in. We can question Cardino and find out what we need to know.
Yes, you're probably right, he sighed mentally.
Daddy, please. Just do this my way. If you stick around, too many things can go wrong, I pleaded.
Baby girl, I'll do this—for you.
* * *
Mundia
Bel Erland
Honey, you have to let your great-grandfather through your shield—Kaldill and Daragar have already modified theirs to let him in, Gran said.
When is he coming? I returned.
I don't know—he says he hasn't laid eyes on Barstle yet, so we have to wait until he does.
I had difficulty accepting that Great-Grampa had actually contacted Gran. They never talked. Both wore a pained expression whenever the other was even mentioned. Grampa said Corolan was answering the ad. When had Great-Grampa intervened?
Why had Great-Grampa intervened?
I'll fix it so he can get through, I said. Let me know if you get any updates.
I will, Gran promised. Take care of yourself, honey.
* * *
Quin
The sphere I'd taken from the hidden room in Avii Castle was in my hand as I stood at the library window, watching as more snow fell.
Caylon, Sal, Bleek and the others had gone to train the troops. I was exempt for two days—at Caylon's command while I built up my strength again.
The sphere fit easily in my palm and would glow if any sunlight struck it, but the day was gloomy and overcast while snow continued to pile up outside.
I couldn't help thinking that I should have carried a larger sphere away.
I had no basis for that thought, so I shoved the sphere in a pocket and wrapped arms tightly about myself—it was colder next to the window.
The feeling of dread that enveloped me was one I couldn't shake; I felt something terrible was about to happen, but once again, a fog blanketed the information and I was unable to reach it.
"My love?" Kaldill appeared behind me.
I turned to him and pulled his face down for a kiss. He was so handsome, my Elf King. He hadn't asked, yet, but soon I wanted to spend a night with him—the first of many to come. I felt I might bloom in his hands, just like the roses he could command to grow in solid rock.
"Do you feel it, too?" he asked gently when he pulled away.
"The cloud of doom settling over everything?" I asked, slipping a hand in my pocket to touch the sphere.
"Yes. It is a burden to carry, when you can't be certain of what troubles you."
He was right. It weighed on me and I couldn't shake it or leave it behind. We turned our attention to the snow outside—the flakes now smaller, their falling thicker, their purpose more sinister.
* * *
BlackWing I
"I've adjusted the orbit," Marco sighed. "We won't hit those archaic satellites, now."
"I can't believe that Vic'Law is still living in the dark ages," Winkler nodded. "Salidar says they had to supply the entire city of Mundia with solar power; the population was still using natural gas to power everything. Those people would be dead if they hadn't put up solar panels—the natural gas was shut off somewhere before it reached Mundia. Satellites instead of booster pods," Winkler shook his head. "Ridiculous."
"I don't recall that Earth's satellites were that big," Marco agreed. "These are monsters."
"Likely added onto through the years, employing warlock or wizard power instead of putting a crew up there to modify them, or replacing what they have. They look like floating piles of junk, now. Probably kept in place by a warlock spell, if my guess is correct. Their orbit should have deteriorated by now and they'd be crashing somewhere inconvenient without outside interference."
"Do you know why Lissa wanted us here instead of in the shipping lanes?" Marco asked.
"She said something is going on—I'm not at liberty to explain."
* * *
Puntia
Brenten Arden
I'd been retired from the Saa Thalarr for centuries. The work I did now while waiting for Barstle Cardino's appearance was worse than any assignment I'd had then. Cleaning the kitchen by hand was something I hadn't done in a very long time. Back in the day, I'd only cleaned up after myself.
Cardino had a palace filled with servants, guards and others, none of whom apparently picked up after themselves.
Cardino deserved the worst Lissa could give him; he'd killed a hapless, innocent servant so I could take his place. His other crimes were probably many and much worse. After all, he could have ordered the servant to hide or leave—at least he'd have kept his life that way.
Cardino thought it more convenient for the man to die.
Shoving trays of dishes into the dish machine, I turned it on before grabbing a cloth to wipe counters. The cook or cooks, whoever they were, were quite possibly the messiest I'd seen. Flour was everywhere, as was sugar and—wait.
Two tiny, red seeds. I was suddenly grateful for the cooks' messy style of baking. Anyone who'd ever been around criminals before would recognize those two seeds.
Drakus seed.
The game had just ramped up to another level.
* * *
Le-Ath Veronis
Lissa
This is what I found, my father informed me when the envelope dropped onto my desk. I think perhaps I should wait a bit to see what the plans are.
Don't you think Barstle will know all that? I asked.
I worry that he doesn't. He's been in a meeting all day—food was taken in earlier. I'm cleaning the kitchen—that's how I found those seeds.
You think the plans are to place Barstle and anyone else who doesn't willingly cooperate under the influence of drakus seed?
Likely.
Is this a new development, or something that has been going on for a while?
My guess is it's new—but why is this new threat only now reeling Barstle in?
You haven't been able to Look to find out?
Something is fogging it, whatever it is. That's why I wanted Cardino—so we could question him.
You haven't seen any Sirenali, have you?
Not yet. I'm sure they're hidden and well-guarded.
I'll destroy the seed, I said.
Thank you. I didn't wa
nt to throw it out—those seeds can lie dormant for years and then sprout under ideal conditions. Before you know it, you have it growing everywhere.
Keep me posted, then, I said. I don't like this—something is worrying me about it.
I too, he replied. I'll let you know whatever I find.
* * *
"My father found this," I handed the envelope containing drakus seed to Karzac. "Will you examine the seeds to see if this is a new strain? I'm curious about it."
"I'll check," my Refizani mate agreed. "I'll destroy anything left of it."
"Thanks."
* * *
Quin
I was distracted, but Berel and I taught Jayna and Barc their lessons anyway. Berel carried most of the weight—I stroked Barc's hair as he read from a book, his head snuggled against my shoulder.
"Time for dinner," Bleek announced as he walked into the library. He'd already cleaned up after drilling and training Mundia's army. How's he doing? Bleek sent mindspeech.
He's learning at near light-speed, Berel replied. He wants to know everything, as of yesterday.
Six lobes, Bleek grinned.
What excuse do you use when things go badly? I teased.
Six lobes, he laughed. Brain's too crowded to think straight.
I had no idea he'd be anything except offended by my teasing, and to be honest, I'd sent the message before thinking about it. My mind had been so filled with worry that the humor came unexpectedly.
"I'm starved," Jayna stretched before standing.
"Son, come wash your hands." Bleek was still grinning and he winked at me before turning to leave, Barc right behind him.
* * *
Puntia
Brenten Arden
By the time Barstle Cardino appeared while I helped serve dinner, it was already too late.
He was under the influence of drakus seed.
Perhaps it was fate—or punishment—for his misdeeds in the past, when he'd done the same thing to guards and servants alike, to keep them under his thumb.
Phorr, for whatever reason, had disappeared. I suspected he was dead.
Barstle walked right past me, as if he no longer recognized the face of his servant. Whoever had raised this strain of drakus seed had found a new and terrible use for the drug.
Yes—I considered that I could be in danger. I had plans to make and a disguise to change. That would be easy enough—I'd seen the same face, repeatedly. I knew, too—eventually—why that was.
Lissa, I sent. Someone has found the Lyristolyi drug and is using it.
* * *
Le-Ath Veronis
Lissa
Are you sure that's a good idea—changing your disguise to match a clone's?
They wander everywhere, my father replied. Nobody stops them. They eat, they sleep and generally do what they please.
Barstle is a complete idiot, now?
It looks that way. Whoever this is has found a way to tailor drakus seed to do this. His actions are their commands.
Like a Sirenali, only different? I guessed.
Similar, yes.
Frightening.
Agreed.
Who's in charge? Any idea?
I can't say as yet—I'm afraid to ask questions, for the obvious reason.
You'll call attention to yourself.
Yes. There's a section of the palace where most aren't allowed to go—it's my guess that the one in charge is holed up there, with a Sirenali.
Makes sense. Well, I suppose a clone disguise is as good as anything else, I said.
I'll let you know when I get more information.
Thank you. "Grant," I shouted aloud. "Get Gavin and Rigo. Now."
* * *
Quin
William Winkler appeared and had dinner with us. Afterward, he, Caylon, Sal and Kaldill locked themselves inside Kaldill's suite to have a discussion.
I did and didn't want to know what they were discussing.
Terrett and Berel pulled me toward the spa; we found Bleek there already, leaning back with all four arms splayed out on the flagstones while hot water bubbled around him. Jayna had put Barc to bed; Bleek wouldn't have left the boy alone to wander.
Now he was soaking sore muscles after a hard day training troops.
Ignoring the fact that he was naked, Berel, Terrett and I climbed into the water. Bleek barely opened his eyes to see who'd joined him before closing them again. "Getting warm?" Lafe, Bel Erland and Yanzi joined us.
"Yes. Hoping to relax," I mumbled, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
"Which one help most?" Yanzi asked. "I give massage." Opening my eyes, I discovered he was nearby and grinning.
"Massage this way," Bleek murmured.
"Hold on, I'll take care of the four-armed mountain first, then I'll take your massage," I nodded at Yanzi.
"Four-armed mountain?" Bleek opened his eyes and sat up.
"Really? You're offended by that?" I crawled out of the water and went to sit behind him. At least I wore a swimsuit—he was still naked and still didn't care.
"Not really," he sighed the moment I put my hands on him. The healing glow was soft and gentle as I worked the kinks out of Bleek's muscles. He groaned in appreciation as the ache went away.
"I've never gotten any massage this good," he sighed. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Just remember that if you ever decide to grab one of my wings again."
"I'll kill anyone who tries it from now on. I know now how big a mistake that was," he admitted. "You have my apologies."
"I accept." I swatted his arm. He laughed.
* * *
Bleek
I wondered if the healing Quin provided for Barc felt as good as what she'd done for me. Training troops reminded me of how out of shape I'd gotten. With her hands on me, my troubles—as well as my aches—had evaporated.
I marveled that she could do that. Someone else may have wanted to dissect how she'd done it; I accepted it as a wonder and a work of beauty and didn't question it after that.
In fact, I looked forward to getting sore muscles in the future.
She and Yanzi disappeared after Yanzi pulled himself from the water and placed his arms around her. I sighed and closed my eyes again.
* * *
Kaldill
"He's there now?" Sal asked.
"Yeah. And before you say it, Lissa is just as shocked as you are that he's trying to help." Winkler shook his head—if anyone would know what was going on with Lissa, it would be her werewolf mate.
Frankly, I think all of us were shocked. I had no idea when Lissa had last spoken with her father.
Before now.
"This is what he told her—that Barstle Cardino is now addicted to drakus seed and under someone's control, and somehow, those dimwits have gotten their hands on the Lyristolyi drug and are making clones."
"What the hell for?" Caylon demanded.
"No idea," Winkler shrugged. "So far, Brenten hasn't gotten close to whoever is in charge—at first he was disguised as one of Barstle's dead servants, but now he's disguised as a clone. He's attempting to get into the owner's suite to see who's in charge, but for now, they're hiding behind guards, locked doors and a Sirenali, most likely."
"I don't think you understand how dangerous the Lyristolyi drug is," I said. "Between drakus seed and that, I'd say drakus seed is less harmful."
"I don't even know what it is," Sal admitted.
"It was supposed to be destroyed long ago," I said. "The drug was an abomination when the Lyristolyi created it in the beginning—all in the name of benign research. Having both drugs in the same hands? That's frightening."
* * *
Puntia
"Whip, I want you and the ranos cannon aboard one of our freighters waiting outside Harifa Edus," Vardil instructed.
"What about Vic'Law?" Whip asked. "They're not exactly cooperating at the moment."
"They'll cooperate—or else. I've had a last trick tucked up my sleeve for a
while," Vardil smiled. "Put in place two turns ago, without anyone's knowledge."
"Then I'm sure it's a good one," Whip nodded. "I'll need transport to the freighter—along with the ranos cannon."
"Deris will take you. Daris will stay here with me; I have a transference scheduled after Deris' return."
"I'm pleased to see you've found such a suitable body that can be cloned," Whip complimented Vardil. "You look amazing."
"It does suit me, doesn't it? Dorgus says the same."
"Dorgus is quite particular, so you know it to be true," Whip said.
"Yes. Go now—Deris is waiting for you. I want Harifa Edus destroyed. If you're successful, then target Le-Ath Veronis afterward."
"I will see it done, my Lord."
* * *
Quin
Yanzi hadn't asked for sex. Of course he wanted it, but was content to wait. Instead, he'd rubbed my shoulders and back, then tucked my head on his shoulder and lulled me to sleep.
I woke the following morning with a tingling itch between my wings. Something was going on, but I couldn't get past the fog that concealed it.
"I think same," Yanzi yawned and stretched before sliding off the bed and extending his hand to help me up. "If I snake, scales itch. I send mindspeech to Farzi—he say be careful."
"One of your brothers?" I asked.
"Oldest," Yanzi shrugged. "He keep us together when we young. Keep us alive, too."
"He sounds like a very smart man. Strong, too," I said.
"He is." Yanzi searched for his shoes—and mine. "We have breakfast. You train today."
"Oh. I forgot about that."
"Caylon not forget."
"I understand that about him," I agreed.
"He say women training want winged woman to come back."
"Now I feel self-conscious. Again."
"No. Not do. Come. Have tea and breakfast. Terrett waiting in kitchen."
* * *
"Defense posture," Caylon barked at me. My hands went up automatically. I had to shut off my brain—it wanted to overload on my lack of exercise for a few days, the fact that I might not be ready to block his blows and the women who were watching me.
Arm up to block the first blow. Turn aside to avoid the second. Turn back to prevent the takedown. Feathers in the eyes to get away. Wing extended to sweep his legs.
BlackWing: First Ordinance, Book 3 Page 23