“We thought this would be a suitable place for the summit to take place,” the manager said, nodding to his deputy. They took a door each and opened them in unison, the room beyond flooded with light so Arrow’s first impression was blinding sunshine.
“This is the ballroom,” the deputy said, and stood aside with the manager, letting their guests in.
Arrow tried to puzzle the word over in her mind. It made no sense to make a room this elaborate for ball games. This room was as large as the Receiving Hall at the Taellaneth’s main building and, Arrow thought, looking around, rivalled it in craftsmanship.
Behind her she heard Xeveran ask what a ballroom was and a muffled snort of laughter from the human magicians.
“Balls were human gatherings with dancing,” Matthias put in, sending a sideways look at the male magician. “Fancy clothes, fancy food and drink. And music.”
“Like a reception, it sounds like,” Arrow added in Erith.
“Ah. No ball games, then. A shame,” Kallish said. Arrow was almost sure the warrior was joking. Xeveran did not translate.
Arrow kept to the rear of the group whilst Matthias, Miach, Kallish and the two magicians, with Xeveran translating, went over the space, discussing how it might be laid out, the manager and his deputy attending closely, the deputy making extensive notes on a notebook she produced from one of her pockets. The room was large, but with three sets of delegates all with their own entourage, it would be crowded.
Of more concern to her was the lack of warding in the room. The building itself was warded outside, and the perimeter of the grounds resonated with human-made wards. The humans apparently did not believe in building protections inside their buildings, however. The Erith would find that unacceptable. The shifkin might not mind.
She began a slow walk around the outside of the room, senses open, testing to see if there were other defences she had not spotted. Nothing.
“Something wrong?” Elias asked quietly, coming to walk alongside her.
“There are no protections built into this room. There is a space underneath which is also not warded.”
“The cellars, yes.” Elias’ mouth twitched at her sideways glance. “We have the plans for the building, including the alterations. Many weak points.”
“I assume the humans will not agree to come to the Taellaneth.”
“Correct. And the Taellan does not wish to host so many humans, and shifkin, all at once. They do not see the humans as a serious threat.”
Arrow shook her head slightly. Trust the Erith to put appearances before their own safety. And to be arrogant enough to dismiss any threat from the humans. The humans’ command of magic might be weak, compared to the Erith, but they made up for that with skill in weaponry.
“Something interesting?” It was the male magician, coming to stand in front of them, feet slightly apart, jaw set.
Elias, who Arrow thought could break the human in half without too much effort, lifted a brow and made his way back to where Undurat was standing near the doors, keeping an eye on proceedings.
“It is a very beautiful room,” Arrow answered. The human seemed determined to be unpleasant. He also seemed hot tempered, and Arrow wondered if she could provoke his temper enough to get him to make some unguarded statements. Everything he had done so far had been calculated. She was not quite sure how to provoke the human, but he reminded her of Eshan and simply being in the same room with the former Chief Scribe had seemed to annoy him, particularly when she asked him to clarify his meaning. Perhaps the same would work here.
“What are you, exactly?”
“A consultant.” Arrow stood straight, bringing her height above the human’s, which seemed to irritate him. She had kept the silver in her eyes damped down, not wanting to draw too much attention even though the human seemed to have dismissed her as not worth his time.
“Consultant in what?”
“Whatever the shifkin need,” she answered, keeping her tone easy and calm. “Who are you? You did not introduce yourself earlier.”
“You don’t know who I am?”
“No. Should I?”
The question made the colour in his face increase and his jaw clench even more. “I am the First Mage of the Collegia. Combat magician first class. Dorian Sage.”
“Very impressive.” Arrow tried to sound impressed but was even more puzzled. Nothing in the shifkin’s information or her own knowledge had suggested that the human’s Collegia Magica had a combat arm. Or that they had a designated First Mage, other than the Magister. She wondered, too, when they had adopted the term mage, as all the human magic users she had encountered before had preferred the term magician. She wanted to discuss it with Zachary and Matthias, another time and out of the human’s hearing. For now she posed another question, curious. “You are related to Juniper Sage?”
“No.” His lip curled in what looked like disgust. “It is the name we adopt as part of our training.”
Like belonging to a House, Arrow supposed and found it interesting that he was apparently revolted by his second in command. That did not seem like a good partnership.
He seemed to be waiting for something more from her, some further response. Arrow found she had no desire to continue speaking with him and took a step to the side. “You will lead the human’s security team?” she asked as he fell into step with her, heading back to the larger group.
“I am in charge of security,” he told her, voice flat.
“No.” Matthias had adopted his more natural posture and simply by the slight shift in the way he held himself became abruptly dangerous. Arrow quietly moved to stand with him and Tamara.
“It’s already been agreed.” Dorian dismissed Matthias’ interruption.
“No. The agreement, which is recorded in writing between the Taellan, the Prime and the Premiere, is for a joint security force. With no overall leader.”
Arrow could only imagine how disgusted Matthias, and indeed the Prime, were at that concession. No overall leadership was almost impossible to manage.
“That’s just ridiculous. Someone needs to be in charge, and that’s me.”
Arrow glanced across at the Erith, wondering what they thought of the petty power struggle, and saw they were equally unimpressed.
“Well, perhaps the person in charge should be the one with most experience?” Tamara suggested, tone one of forced patience.
“Agreed.” Dorian stuck his chin out, clearly confident in his abilities.
“Agreed.” Matthias was hiding a smile.
“That’s settled, then. Miach is in charge of security.” Tamara turned a smile on Miach. Arrow had often thought that Tamara, one of the warmest and most generous people she knew, had an irresistible smile. Miach did not seem to agree, giving Tamara a sour look.
“That’s ridiculous,” Dorian protested.
“You just agreed the person with the most experience should be in charge. Miach has been in charge of security at the Palace for decades. Probably longer. So that’s settled. Miach, what would you like to do next?” Tamara turned her back on the seething human mage and waited for Miach’s response.
For all his reluctance, Miach showed his worth in moments, forming a plan that quickly transferred the sour expression onto Dorian’s face, the human unable to find fault.
CHAPTER 7
The awkwardly arranged, three-sided group had mere days to get the Abbey ready for the delegates’ arrival. The humans complained about the haste but Arrow guessed, and Matthias confirmed, that Zachary did not want to waste any time or give the Erith an opportunity to change their minds.
Luckily for everyone, Miach seemed to find the magicians’ foul mood to be more amusing than anything else, perhaps assisted by the fact that the rest of Dorian’s team, far from displaying scowls and rudeness to match their leader, were in obvious awe of the White Guard, following the warriors around with wide eyes, whispering among themselves when they thought the Erith could not hear them. Arrow caught Xeveran biting
his lip to hold in laughter on more than one occasion.
Arrow had little time to enjoy the hero-worship forming among the magicians as Miach had put her in charge of renewing the wards for the grounds and putting suitable wards in place throughout the Abbey itself, starting with the grand ballroom. She had an endless supply of chalk and a pair of junior White Guard assigned to fetch and carry for her, and assist her when she needed to move furniture or get into the high corners of rooms to set the spells. The ballroom was the biggest challenge, requiring ladders to get up to the ceiling. She was also followed by a group of magicians checking her work and adding their own layer of warding, the humans’ spell working crude in comparison to the elegant Erith runes she used.
The work required her full attention, a welcome distraction from worries about the surjusi traces she had found in Lix, the possibility of a human-made spell that could disable the strongest wards she knew how to create, and the damage done to the workspace which meant she had nowhere to return to once the summit was over.
By the time the summit’s opening morning arrived, she was not sure how many days she had been in the Abbey and its grounds, or how many ward spells she had crafted. Every time she closed her eyes she could see lines of spellwork. Her fingers and throat were dry from all the chalk she had used. She had not left the Abbey since arriving, the ‘kin bringing her luggage to her, and although she had been given a room, she had not managed a full night’s sleep.
She had showered twice that morning to make sure she got rid of all the chalk particles from her hair and skin, and was seriously considering a cleansing spell in addition as she made her way down the narrow staircase from her small room, under the eaves of the building, to the ballroom.
When she had last seen it, the room had been stripped bare, only magicians and ladders occupying the space. She was curious as to what Miach had arranged, with the hotel’s manager and staff.
She arrived at the same time as Matthias and Tamara. Matthias pushed the nearest door fully open so that they could all step through, morning light filling the room.
Arrow paused in the threshold, blinking at the changes made. She had underestimated the humans again, it seemed.
The empty space with its ornate ceiling and heavy, draped curtains now held an arrangement of tables and chairs closely resembling the debating chamber of the humans’ assembly. In the centre of the room, three long tables had been set together to make an open triangle, surfaces covered with pristine white cloth and tasteful flower decorations. The sides were long enough to accommodate a dozen people although only five places had been set at each side, the numbers agreed in advance. Behind each side, further tables and chairs had been arranged so that additional delegates could sit in pairs in apparently random order but which Arrow realised, walking slowly around the room, were actually carefully arranged so that all delegates had a clear view of the central table.
There was a translation spell in the precise centre of the room, in the middle of the triangle, a twist of amber power waiting to be activated. Gilean’s work, Arrow knew, recognising the signature. The floor beneath the spell was covered with what looked like a herb garden. It seemed odd at first but, as scents of human and Erith plants carried through the air on her walk around the room, she realised it was a clever design on the part of the organisers. The Erith would find the scents familiar, the ‘kin would enjoy the hint of wild and the humans seemed to appreciate green, growing things almost as much as the Erith and ‘kin. Arrow’s appreciation of Miach and the hotel’s manager grew as she took in the details.
The air throughout the room hummed with magic. The strongest wards any mage or magician could craft. Along with the physical presence of at least two full cadres on duty, inside and outside the building, and a war mage, the Erith should be comfortable.
Zachary would not care particularly about the wards, Arrow knew. The Prime had a great deal of faith in his own and his people’s abilities. Justified faith.
Few of the humans would see the wards, Arrow knew. But they would see their own security, and would have been assured by Dorian that all was in order.
“Are we satisfied?”
Dorian’s question was, for once, without any of the sarcastic bite or challenge which had become familiar over the past few days. He had spent much of the time in a state of seething resentment, unable to find fault with the plans Miach laid out for them. Still, Arrow had been satisfied with his work. He was competent.
He and Juniper were standing by the doors that the human delegation would use. Miach and Kallish were standing by the Erith’s doors, Matthias and Tamara by the ‘kin’s door. The remaining set of doors to the room had a pair of nervous looking hotel staff waiting for permission to bring the refreshments in.
“Arrow?” Matthias asked the question, but all eyes turned to her for confirmation. Dorian and Juniper had been prickly and difficult to work with. The fact that Miach had not spared the time or energy to create a translation spell to allow them to communicate had not helped matters, and spoke loudly about Miach’s own views of the magician. Apparently both the Erith and ‘kin trusted her word more than Dorian’s.
The sword at her back was quiet. The air sang in second sight with the completed ward spells. Everything was as it should be.
“The wards are sound. There is no magical threat that I can sense. I am satisfied.”
“And we are satisfied that there is no unauthorised weaponry present,” Matthias confirmed, glancing across at Miach who gave one slight nod.
“Then let us begin.” Dorian snapped his fingers to the hotel staff who opened the door, admitting a half dozen more humans carrying trays. The scent of coffee drifted to Arrow. It already seemed a long time since breakfast. The staff also brought with them the scent of Erith tea, something which still curdled her stomach, bringing back memories of an awful night while Orlis battled to get poison out of her system.
The hotel staff had everything in place in moments, refreshments set at each table throughout the room. Coffee, Erith tea, water and small plates of the hotel’s baking, some adapted for Erith tastes. Just a few of the many small details that Miach had worked out over the past few days, Xeveran acting as translator.
Places set, Arrow returned to stand with Matthias and Tamara. On some unseen signal, each nation’s representative opened the doors for their delegation and the quiet of the room was broken as dozens of people came into the space.
In a further display of their efficiency, the hotel staff had somehow managed to arrange it so that all three delegations, using different entrances, arrived in the meeting chamber at the same time.
~
The Erith were measured, expressions under rigid control although more than one pair of eyes flared amber. They were led by Eimille vel Falsen, the elderly Erith temporary head of the Taellan until a new monarch was chosen and a new Taellan appointed. For the first time, Arrow thought that the lady looked her age, the fine bones of her face standing out under her pale skin, eyes snapping as she looked about, lips tightly pressed together as she took in the details of the other delegations.
Eimille was accompanied by Gret vo Regresan, Juinis vo Halsfeld, Bea vel Nostren and Kester vo Halsfeld. An interesting combination. Arrow tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach as Kester came into the room. She had not seen him since before the break-in at the workspace. She had missed him. And forgotten, despite her excellent memory, just exactly how his face looked. He looked around the room, expression calm, taking everything in, and barely paused on her face, perfectly under control in this public space.
The Taellan were followed by a full cadre of White Guard and a pair of mages. A ripple of unease went through the humans as they saw the pitch-dark cloak of a war mage. Gilean vo Presien did not react. He had inspected this room, and all the protections and measures taken, more than once, adding a few adjustments of his own, sneaky adaptations that had likely kept him and Orlis safe on their travels. Gilean took a place, Orlis beside him, towards
the rear of the Erith’s delegation.
The shifkin delegation flowed past Arrow, Matthias and Tamara. Zachary was relaxed, strides loose and steady, all his people following his lead, fanning out around him to take their places. Only twenty ‘kin in total, including Matthias and Tamara. There were many empty seats on their side of the room. Arrow bit the inside of her cheek to hold in a smile. Zachary was making a point.
The human delegation seemed vast. Five humans moved forward to the main table, the Premiere, An Wong, in the middle. Arrow recognised the other four, three women and one man, from the papers Matthias had provided and from the news. The man, Normal Merkel, was one of the most prominent in the anti-Erith House, as Arrow thought of it, although they called themselves the pro-human movement. An interesting choice for this summit. Even though he was Mayor of Lix and also had a seat in the Premiere’s cabinet, that Arrow thought of as the equivalent of the Taellan, he was unlikely to be pleased at being so close to Erith. The Premiere was as cunning in her own way as the Prime, to give the pro-human movement a seat at the table.
The remaining principals were the Premiere’s personal aide and two other members of the Premiere’s cabinet. Behind them, every seat was filled with the rest of the delegation, including the distinctive robes of the Magister. He did not have a seat at the table, as the Collegia was not part of the government, but simply being here, in the robes that were so unusual in the human world, meant he stood out and drew attention. Arrow’s eyes narrowed, trying to work out if he had a glamour around him. With so many people close to him it was impossible to tell.
Taellaneth Complete Series Box Set Page 93