Meet the Family

by Pam Uphoff

  “Yee . . . es? For some values of friendly? I felt like I was surrounded by happy drunks, to be frank.”

  Choking sounds and snickers. From the people who’ve been there.

  Rufi sighed. “The one time I was there, I was so furious I nearly ordered the guards to kill everyone there. It would have solved so many problems.”

  Rael cleared her throat. “Umm, if you could kill that many powerful magic users. I assume you had Xen with you?”

  “Yes. And his father, who took one look at me, told Xen to deal with the problem, and teleported me out of there. ‘The long term consequences would be much worse’ he said. I hate it when he reads my mind.”

  The king chuckled. “No, you hate realizing how close you came to creating an utter disaster.”

  Rael blinked. Right. All those scary powerful people I just met—wizards and witches—and an angry Army General. If he’d killed any of them, or if they’d killed the Spear . . . One! Can you call it a civil war when it’s a couple thousand magically powerful people versus the rest of the kingdom?

  Rufi sighed. “Perhaps we should try this lunch that has been mentioned.” He glanced at Rael. “We rarely have formal lunches, just the dinners are bad enough. I can only hope enough people show up for this one to spare you the attentions of your own diplomats.”

  Chapter Nine

  A Casual, Friendly Lunch

  Half the bloody royal family showed up to look her over.

  The vast majority of them with Garit’s golden blond hair.

  The Dominate Blonde Gene. One of the ones we have in common. Unlike the version of the Red gene that I got from my Comet Fall father, which only occurs here . . . or possibly on some of the other Exile Worlds.

  A spectacular silver-haired older woman looked her over with sharp eyes as she accepted the King’s arm to lead her to the table. Queen Nez.

  Crown Prince Rolo was a handsome man in his fifties, and his wife Princess Amilie a gentle-eyed brunette beauty.

  Colonel Fossi grinned and shook her hand. “From the stories I thought you’d be seven foot tall with glowing eyes."

  Rael batted her eyelashes and giggled.

  He blinked. “I see. Even more dangerous.”

  The King’s eldest son, the Spear Prince. General Rufi’s successor.

  “I know you know Garit, but have you met Prince Staven?”

  Another blonde. Shaking his head. “So . . . Xen’s Femme Fatalé. Better luck next time?”

  Garit punched his shoulder. “He’s mostly kidding. And this is his wife Lady Mihaela, she’s one of the Karista Bay witches.”

  Rael blinked. “I had heard that some witches do marry.” And you certainly have glow!

  The witch shrugged. “Karista High Society is snooty about it, so for the sake of the children, we made it legal. If Staven gets roped in as the Crown Heir, they’ll find him a wife with better connections.” Her smile went crooked.

  “Ouch!”

  “Well, I had to either accept that or walk away from him forever. I didn’t walk.” A suspicion of moisture in her eyes. “But then I’ll finally have time to get advanced training in Ash.”

  Rael nodded. “But you won’t consider it a good trade off. As I . . . won’t destroy my security rating with an unwise marriage.”

  Her brows rose and she nodded. “It’s . . . unwise to love some people, but no matter the anticipated pain, we still do it.”

  A bevy of blonde women, half with escorts, approached. Impossible to judge their ages, although none of them glowed. The king’s power gene must be a version of their Mage gene, on the Y chromosome, so it’s inherited father to son, and the daughters get nothing. But I doubt any are over forty, and those two look like teenagers.

  Introductions, of which Rael managed to catch a few.

  Princess Felashi grinned at Staven. “My big brother is hoping to duck out of the Crown. Poor man doesn’t seem to realize that he’s still going to get stuck in the Government somewhere.”

  “Not a problem. Because then I’ll be going home to the woman I love. Except when she’s off in Ash getting advanced training.”

  Rael eyed him. “I don’t quite understand. The Council chooses the next heirs?”

  Lots of shaken heads.

  Prince Staven was one of them. “They are trying to interpret our founding documents, the Charter, to figure out what’s legal under these not-straightforward circumstances.”

  A snort from another fellow. “The Council is supposed to keep track of the succession, and can, under some circumstances, remove someone from the list.”

  Prince Staven grinned. “The most obvious solution to the current problem is to find Rebo’s marriage to be valid and legal, and officially accept his twins as the heirs. But, having had one disaster, we’re thinking we’ll wait until they’ve done their two year rotation and we’ve gotten a better look at them.”

  Rufi nodded. “At which point we—Crown, Spear, Crown Prince, and Crown Spear—will inform the Council of the heirs we have chosen from the tangle, and then we’ll see if there is or isn’t a fight. With luck, they’ll pass a bill amending the list, and that will be it.”

  Staven gave a sharp nod. His hand found Mihaela’s.

  Rufi sighed, then offered Rael an elbow and led her off to a glittering table, all snowy linen and cut crystal and gold plated flatware.

  Where the Crown and Spear sat side-by-side at the end of the broad table. Queen Nez was at her husband's right hand, and servants pulled out the chair at Rufi’s left for Rael.

  She raised an eyebrow, and the old man grinned. “Xen’s my great grandson, my closest male descendent. Got to show official respect for his . . . whatever.”

  Rael nodded. “Whatever.”

  His grin widened. “Besides, if I don’t outrage High Society regularly they’ll start thinking I’m getting old.”

  The King grinned. “You are old. And any decade now you’ll start acting like it.”

  Garit sat at her other side. Staven, across the table from him, sat beside Queen Nez.

  The Queen had a twinkle in her eyes. “We have you surrounded. Now you must tell us all about how you met our Super Spy.”

  The servant setting the soup plate in front of her gave her a second to think back.

  The first time I set eyes on Xen . . .

  “Oh . . . well, I was guarding the president’s daughter at a horse show. She was in with a dozen teenagers who were showing that day, and there was this rider working with a real brute of a horse. Half the teenagers stopped to drool over the rider—I mean, handsome, muscular bare arms, shining with sweat, creatively dissecting the horse’s probable ancestry—fortunately Paer was more interested in the horse than the rider. And I barely drooled. Honest.”

  Several snickers.

  “Anyway, I saw him around occasionally, and when a check on him—because he was competing against Paer and in frequent proximity—turned up a connection to some people we were investigating in connection with counterfeit ID—Your people. Major Easterly, Major Janic, Q, and another witch—we watched him closely, thinking he was how the counterfeits were being smuggled.” Rael shook her head. “It’s embarrassing that we never caught on.”

  Grins all around.

  A wishful sigh from Prince Garit. “They never let me do the fun stuff. But did you ever talk to him?”

  “Not until he was hired to coach Paer while she and her horse convalesced from that bad fall.” Rael shook her head. “I bounced out to meet this hot stud . . . and he backed up about half a meter to barely shake hands. I think I scared him.” She widened her eyes, innocently.

  Garit laughed. “Now that we know more about you, I’m not surprised that Xen saw you as a major threat to his mission. The news vids of you jumping out of an aircar, in flight, to slaughter about fifty Helaos troopers were a real eye-opener.”

  Rael blinked.

  Rufi chuckled. “Why yes, we do get a whole lot of publicly available material from the Empire. And of course, nothi
ng classified or sensitive, anymore.”

  Rael eyed his innocent expression, and dammit, dimples like Xen’s. “Of course not, sir. We would never suspect such a thing.”

  Down the table, she could feel a power gather, with a tinge of anger.

  Careful ambassador! This is not a safe place to lose your temper . . . Except glancing down the table she could see Ambassador Osma on the far side of the table spooning up soup. The power gatherer was on her side, hidden behind half a dozen bodies.

  Someone’s angry, but why the power draw?

  This isn’t a safe place to play magic gotcha . . . is it?

  How strong are Easterly and Janic? How well trained are they? Deena said she wasn’t raised by witches . . .

  Deena Janic was standing back out of the server’s way, just two steps from the king. A casual turn of her head toward Prince Garit caught Easterly in her peripheral vision.

  Not quite behind me. And his shields are up, wary of an attack . . . from me? Of course. The known Oner assassin. Can he even feel whatever’s going on down the table?

  Garit certainly didn’t seem to think there was anything going on. “Do you mean Xen was running about seducing every woman except you?”

  Rael gritted her teeth as the soup plate was swapped for salad. “Pretty much. Well, eighteen women. Twenty-five children.”

  The king snickered. “Rufi, we’ll have to count. You may have beat me on descendants.”

  A spell forming . . . Rael spiked her speed, read the first bit . . . Mental, a compulsion spell! She formed the counter, shielded . . .

  The spell snapped out, and she had to slam her shield out to block the poorly aimed . . . That wasn’t aimed at me! That was aimed at the king! Who the One Hell?

  She leaned forward and looked down the table . . . at least four people away . . . The obnoxious flunky was scowling at the king.

  Updo Withione Azteca.

  What the hell!

  :: What the One Hell are you doing! ::

  His eyes jerked to meet hers.

  :: Was that you? You blocked me? You stupid bitch, I could have had him! Stay out of this! ::

  :: By whose orders are you attacking the head of a foreign government? :: Rael kept her mental voice cold.

  :: None of your business, Girly Guard. ::

  Rael stabbed lettuce, turned back to smile at Rufi. "I really regret the assassination attempt that sidelined Xen's planned address to the Empire's Council. I suspect it would have been epic."

  She chewed, and felt Updo collecting power again.

  "Oh yes. He was going to deliver our response letter, and then give a history lesson—while the rest of the team kept the Councilmen locked in and the vids all running." Rufi grinned. "And then set up an embassy in Paris and start some diplomacy. Not sure he could have pulled it off, but he was probably the only person who could survive trying, at that point."

  Rael set her fork down and the salad plate was whisked away, replaced by a block of something cheesy and meaty.

  Good thing I didn't finish my first lunch in Ash!

  "Ambassador Never has been very impressive."

  The king nodded. "And successful. Respected in every sense of the word. Duke Dydit actually leaves her alone there fairly frequently now."

  Another spell, or rather the same, building up.

  Rael's :: Don't do it! :: crossed with Updo's :: Don't interfere! ::

  She damped the spell with no trouble.

  Ignored the mental cursing as she poked the block. Layered pasta, cheese, and meat in a tomato-based sauce. "Lasagna? I guess I shouldn't be surprised that some ethnic foods survived here."

  "So, the Empire has lasagna?" Rufi grinned. "I'm surprised, since Europe was so thoroughly nuked fifteen centuries ago."

  And down the table, power building up hard and fast. A sense of anger slipping control.

  Rael giggled. “What survived changed a lot over time. The old style is a newly imported cuisine. Spreading fast.”

  She looked across at Deena Janic. Solid shields, high and low.

  Probably trained by Xen.

  She reached for the high frequencies. :: Flunky is causing trouble. Shield the king, I’ll tromp the . . . ::

  This attack was aimed straight at her. She absorbed and countered the sneeze spell, glanced left. Updo was leaning forward.

  Risky. But at least he waited until the diners between us had leaned back to give him a shot at me.

  He glared, then looked back at the king. A small diameter punch flashed out. Rael deflected it upward. Dust drifted down from the ceiling behind the king.

  All right. That’s enough.

  Rael pulled out a spell she picked up from the Fiend. Up and over the intervening people and down . . .

  A clatter from down the table. Rael forked up more lasagna. “This is excellent.”

  Rufi nodded, frowning down the table. “It looks like the ambassador’s aide disagrees.” A flick of a glance to the side. “Easterly, make sure he’s not actually choking.”

  Deena Janic eyed Rael from the far side, where she’d stepped up closer to the king. :: What did you do? ::

  :: Chain Spell. Unless you want to test that ‘diplomatic immunity’ nonsense, I’ll take him home and dissect him to find out where his orders came from. ::

  :: Nonsense? ::

  :: Necessary, I can see that. I can, however, recommend to the President that he rescind Updo’s immunity, if you want him. ::

  Updo stepped away from the table and Easterly solicitously helped him from the room. Across the table, the Ambassador was looking both wary and worried.

  Rael finished her lasagna and started in on chocolate cake and ice cream while catching faint hints of a mental conversation going on over her head.

  King Leano raised his voice and thanked his guests for their attendance, and rose.

  And now for the hard part!

  ***

  Rufi’s smile—which reminded her rather strongly of the smile of a hungry lion—faded as he escorted her into a small room off the throne room.

  “So, what did I miss?” The general’s gaze swept the room and settled on Updo, clawing desperately at his neck, his tie discarded and collar open. “Oh, the Chain. Yes, nasty spell that.”

  One! Is that chain a physical manifestation? I always thought . . .

  Rufi eyeing Rael silently, and she tucked the spell analysis away.

  She nodded. “He was powering up and throwing spells toward the head of the table. Since President Orde failed altogether to inform me he was planning an act of war while I was here, I blocked the spells and dropped the Chain on him.”

  “And the nature of these spells?”

  “Two Compulsion spells, that appeared to be aimed at the king, one sneeze spell aimed at me, then a small diameter punch spell thrown toward the king. I diverted it into the ceiling, and judging from the dust drifting down, the spell was probably strong enough to have been fatal.”

  Rufi nodded. “I see. All the while conversing through lunch?”

  “I started out not wishing to create a diplomatic incidence . . . I thought I was the target until he threw the first spell. When it became clear that he was quite determined to harm the king, I stopped him.”

  Rufi looked over at his people, now numbering six.

  Deena nodded. “She warned me. I . . . was focused on her and . . . was surprised that she was the target. She flicked a mental shield out two times, took a hit and nullified one spell that was definitely aimed at her, then a hard physical shield. Then she manipulated a spell very oddly, I’ve never seen a curved path before, and dropped the Chain on Updo.”

  Easterly looked embarrassed. “I was watching the known assassin, and missed Updo here powering up until he’d thrown t’first spell. Couldn’t read it, but they were talking mentally so I kept close to her. Didn’t want to be drawn away from Rufi and give her an open opportunity to harm you, sir. I got ready to block between Rael and Rufi, since it’d gone to spells instead of poiso
n, like we expected. But the second spell was definitely from Updo and aimed at the king. Third spell I recognized as sneeze, and figured he was trying to embarrass her in public.” His voice lowered even further to a threatening growl. “Then the push spell. Rael diverted it before I even realized what was coming.”

  He glared at Updo, then back at Rufi.

  “I know, I know. I need more magicians.” Rufi shrugged. And glanced back at Rael. “Thank you. Now what are we going to do about it?”

  Rael nodded. They don’t have enough strong magicians. Xen would have crushed the toad immediately. But he’s not here.

  “My preference,” She paused as the door opened and Ambassador Ozma stalked in, “would be for me to escort him to President Orde to explain himself.”

  A snort from the Ambassador. “Updo Withione has diplomatic immunity, not that he needs it. And he answers to the Council. Not the President. What is this silly woman claiming?”

  Rael eyed him. “What were your orders, Ambassador, and who gave them?”

  He drew himself up, icily. Turned away from her to frown at Rufi. “We will be leaving now. You have no authority to detain me or my aide.”

  “But I do.” Rael tromped hard on a giggle. “So if the general will excuse us, I think we need to go somewhere and discuss this matter.”

  “Oh, you think so?” The ambassador wheeled about and stalked to the door.

  At a nod from Rufi, one of the King’s Own opened the door.

  Updo shrugged away from Easterly and followed. He shot a poisonous glance at Rael. “And get this off me, you little bitch!”

  Rael glanced back at Rufi. Who nodded. “Bon Appetit.”

  Rael flashed a toothy smile and bounced out after her . . . One help me, Compatriots.

  The ambassador’s black limo pulled up to the steps.

  The chauffeur leaped out and strode around to open the back door as Ozma and flunky reached the bottom step.

  No bodyguard? Rael eyed the chauffeur’s biceps straining the uniform, the lump of a shoulder holster. Never mind.