It certainly doesn’t, his employer replied quickly. I’ll add another five hundred dakkaris worth of gems, but you must see this through and bring me back the artifact once you’ve discovered what it does.

  I’ll see to it. Mygal trusts me. He’s good, but not as good as I am. If Rellen is successful, then I should be able to find an opportunity to take it from him. If Rellen fails, then we all do, as near as I can tell. And we both know what that means.

  You understand perfectly, his employer replied.

  Everything is going as you’d hoped, Tavyn said. Better even.

  I don’t hope, I weave, but you’re right, it is turning out better than I’d anticipated, despite the surprises.

  Weave? Tavyn asked.

  You wouldn’t understand. Was there anything else?

  No, sir, Tavyn said. We arrive in two or three days, and I expect we’ll go straight from the docks to wherever it is Toreth has in mind.

  Then I haven’t long to wait. Notify me once it’s done.

  I will.

  Oh, and one last thing, his employer said If you get the opportunity, kill Mygal.

  Mygal? Why?

  It would make a different plan of mine go a little easier. And yes, it will warrant more coin.

  His employer broke the connection.

  Tavyn opened his eyes and started doing some addition in his head. By the time everything was over, he’d have earned a tidy sum. He’d feel bad about killing Mygal. He liked the fellow, but business was business, after all.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The Warning

  Saleeria…

  Her mentor’s voice slipped into her thoughts as she strolled through the Royal Gardens.

  I hear you, she replied. Give me a moment. She had not expected him to contact her for several days, although such contact wasn’t completely out of the ordinary.

  She’d just come from a meeting with the king. They’d gone over the latest reports from the four Guardians on special assignment. Kell Duranti had uncovered a large nest of Nissrans in Saritu’e’Mere. He’d killed one of the leaders, but two had gotten away. The king was sending Corsairs to help root out the infestation. Grall Akkrond had almost been killed and was recuperating in Caspari. Apparently, the vellish he’d run into were incredibly large and—it seemed—possessed of an intelligence heretofore unknown. Faleesh Namarre had, in fact, rooted out a plot to murder the duke in the Duchy of Mallorand. Three nobles as well as members of their family had been executed for their treason, but both Faleesh and the king worried she hadn’t gotten all the traitors. Rellen was neck deep in Nissrans and might be in over his head.

  She turned down a narrow path between several tall, flowering shrubs and took up a seat on a stone bench. What is it you require, milord?

  Kaichakahn and possibly the entire Duchy of Nikostohr may be in jeopardy.

  Impossible! Saleeria blurted. Duke kyp’Tukeem is loyal to the king, and our forces there were hand-picked to cull out the old grievances.

  The Nissrans are there. I believe the grand vizier has been subverted… perhaps possessed. He may even be at the heart of the Nissrans.

  Toreth sun’Harrai?

  Did you not say yourself that the Second Guardian had concerns about him?

  Yes, but possession? It seems hard to believe. How? When? The ceremony involved requires thirteen murders, and Jaquinn had only uncovered a few in Kaichakahn.

  It would seem the vizier gets around, and what better way to surreptitiously manipulate a duchy than by doing so from the shadows, only a step or two from the duke? The irony was not lost on either of them.

  So, what do we do? she asked, although she suspected there really was only one answer.

  How long would it take to march a brigade of Corsairs from the capital to Kaichakahn?

  More than a month. Perhaps more than two, and we’d have to shift troops around in order to do so. At least some of those the king just sent to secure our northern border with the Soo Kari’Ma would have to be recalled. A fair portion of our reserves were sent to Calamath and now Svennival. I just learned that there are Nissrans in Saritu’e’Mere and that the sedition in Mallorand was real. Troops will need to go there as well. Our forces are being spread out very thin.

  I don’t believe we have months, her mentor said. And there is more at stake in Nikostohr than just the duchy.

  What else?

  Stukelladios.

  No one has ever found it, Saleeria said.

  I believe someone has, and where else could a plunnokum be used? The other nuraghi on that peninsula are in ruins. I know Rellen has been hired by Toreth, and Toreth now has the plunnokum. You should receive word of this in a day or so, once Rellen’s avatar arrives.

  How can you know this?

  That is my secret to keep, pupil, he said. There are many reasons I am the Vice Master of the Readers, and you are my student. That is but one of them. Knowledge is strength.

  Knowledge is strength, she replied.

  You should suggest to the king that he secure enough dewkalves to transport a brigade of Corsairs down to Nikostohr as quickly as possible. It would still take weeks, but I fear every second counts at this point.

  It would cost a fortune and every last favor the king might have with the Transport Guild. Pelinon hasn’t used the Guild for that in a hundred years, and with good reason.

  Not doing so could cost us an entire duchy and perhaps more than any of us realizes. Whatever Toreth is after must be of incredible value and likely a threat to the whole kingdom. A single weed in an untended garden can quickly multiply and choke everything else out. It would seem Kaichakahn has been untended for far too long.

  Saleeria let out a long, resigned breath. I will speak with the king.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  For the Honor of Pelinon

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Rellen asked Miranda, setting his saddlebags and spell books over a shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, and things are likely to get considerably more dangerous from here on out. I have no idea what we’re heading into.”

  The ship had reached the port of Kaichakahn an hour earlier, sounding out a horn to announce their arrival. They’d heard the crew dropping the sails. A large school of Bhirtas’Vuoda had towed the ship in to where they secured Yl Jabbathene against a dock. Neither Rellen nor Miranda had seen Kaichakahn before, so they’d waited before going up. They wanted to share the experience. It was an old tradition whenever the two of them came to a new city together.

  “Risk was always part of the deal,” Miranda replied. “And how is this any different from the battles we fought when we were in uniform?” She gave him a smile and opened the portal above the desk in their cabin. It faced out toward the bay. “Besides, we got three days of rest beforehand. A soft bed, no rain, hot meals… I don’t remember the last time I had it this easy.”

  Rellen let out a long breath. “It has been relaxing, hasn’t it?” He’d slept better the past three nights than he had in months. He’d had his side of the bed, she’d had hers. They were comrades, nothing less or more.

  She stepped away from the desk and grabbed her own saddlebags.

  Rellen scratched Xilly’s neck gently where she sat on the bed, wondering if he should encourage her to leave too. Once we get above decks, I’ll let you know when there isn’t anyone watching, Rellen said to the dragonette. You can fly out then.

  I can’t wait to spread my wings. She yawned and stretched her wings out slightly in anticipation.

  It won’t be much longer.

  “You know,” Miranda started, “it’s not like I missed those bastards, but I do think it’s more than peculiar we never saw Toreth or Javyk.”

  “Or Dancer, for that matter,” Rellen added. “I wonder if he’s recovered. Not seeing them has bothered me too. I can’t imagine what they’ve been doing, although Toreth is a nobleman and nobility can often be a bit eccentric. I’ve seen odder behaviors, and far too many of them don’t like to commingle with the commoners.” On the second night, at least, he had seen Jaquinn in the dining room, off in a corner, eating by himself. They’d barely exchanged glances, and that was it.

  “I’m glad you’re not like that,” Miranda said, giving him a gentle shove.

  “So am I,” Rellen replied. “Let’s get going. I really am excited to see the city. I’ve heard it’s spectacular, even more so than Yaylo.” The populace of Nikostohr, despite being a Duchy of Pelinon, was renowned for maintaining the ancient traditions of the peoples who had lived there for over a thousand years.

  “Be ready for my signal, Xilly,” Rellen said, picking up his saddle and hefting it over his other shoulder.

  She nodded her tiny head, hopped off the bed, and crawled beneath it, in case someone came into the room.

  Rellen opened the door and let Miranda step past him. They walked down the corridor and spotted two of the ship’s guards in king’s livery standing outside the open door of a cabin a few doors down from the stairs.

  “We hope you enjoyed the voyage,” one of them called out with a wave and a friendly smile.

  “We did,” Miranda replied. “Thank you.” She and Rellen continued down the hallway and stopped at the top of the stairs. “Tygeth, Maybor,” she called down. “It’s time to go!”

  “I believe your companions went above deck some time ago,” the guard replied. “The two gentlemen, right? You’ll probably find them up there.”

  “Thanks,” Rellen replied.

  The guard nodded.

  “I’m looking forward to getting some solid footing beneath me,” Miranda said.

  “If all goes well, we’ll be heading back north soon enough,” Rellen said. “I guess that’s both good and bad news, isn’t it?” He motioned toward the stairs. “After you.”

  She turned and moved up the stairs, with Rellen close behind.

  “I wonder if we’ll have time to—” Miranda’s voice caught in her throat, and she stood frozen in the stairwell, two-thirds the way up. Her body stiffened.

  “Miranda?”

  Without a word, Miranda continued up the stairs. His view was blocked, but he thought he saw lots of people on deck, which didn’t surprise him. Most of the passengers probably wanted to get a view of Kaichakahn as they came into port.

  Miranda topped the stairs, took two steps forward, and then stepped aside, still without saying a word. As she did, Rellen’s eyes went wide. His heart sank, his mind racing.

  At least fifteen guards stood a short distance from the top of the stairs, all aiming crossbows at the two of them. The one with a captain’s insignia on his collar placed a finger to his lips and motioned for Rellen to keep coming up. He stepped aside, and Rellen gasped. Fear, pain, and guilt clutched at his insides like a predator clawing at raw meat.

  Stripped to the waist, his cardinal tattoo exposed, Mygal stood chained to the main mast. His face was a mask of blood, and bruises covered his arms and torso, as if he’d been beaten with a club. His head sagged to the side, and blood dripped from his ruined face down onto the deck. Javyk stood a short distance behind him to the right, a maddeningly pleased look upon his face.

  Up against the port railing, a guard held a knife to Jaquinn’s throat. Two more guards stood a few paces behind them, crossbows aimed. The dark-skinned Guardian had also been beaten bloody and was wrapped with heavy chains secured by a padlock. One of Jaquinn’s eyes was swollen shut, his nose was a ruin, and his torn, saffron-colored garments were covered with his own blood. When Rellen met Jaquinn’s gaze, there was only rage in his mentor’s eyes.

  On the other side of the deck, Tavyn stood in front of a line of guards, a defeated and fearful look upon his battered face. “They came for us early this morning,” he said weakly. “We never heard them.”

  Rellen’s worst fears had been realized in an instant. He tensed as the emotional storm in his breast turned to rage.

  “Ah-ah,” Javyk said, holding up a warning finger. “I wouldn’t try anything. The only thing keeping them alive right now is your cooperation.”

  Mygal lifted his head. His eyes met Rellen’s. There was no fear, only resolve. The young Guardian drew in a slow, long breath. “For the Honor of Pelinon,” he whispered weakly.

  Pain and impotent rage tore through Rellen’s heart.

  “Keep moving,” a harsh voice barked from behind him.

  Rellen glanced over his shoulder.

  Four more guards had appeared at the bottom of the stairs, including the one who had greeted them from down the corridor. They held crossbows aimed straight up at Rellen.

  “Come on all the way out of there, Rellen,” Javyk called out. “We’ve been waiting for you, and you wouldn’t want so much Guardian’s blood on your hands, would you?”

  Rellen’s blood turned cold. They know.

  He stepped forward a couple paces, his eyes slipping across the guards and fixing upon Javyk. He was looking for some sort of opening, any chance at all where he could drop his gear and do—something.

  Javyk cocked his head to the side. “Think carefully,” he said, that same maddening smile on his face. “You could try to do something, I suppose, Guardian, and you might just get me or the captain, but not before the rest of them filled her with crossbow bolts, and this Guardian’s windpipe was opened to the sun.” He motioned towards Jaquinn. “You would hear their screams and watch them die… and it would have no bearing whatsoever on your own fate.” He glanced at Mygal. “Or his.” He stepped forward. “I must admit, you had me fooled. I salute you for that. There aren’t many who could, but my master saw right through you. Now, both of you, stand over there with Tygeth.”

  Rellen let out a long breath. There was no way out of this that he could see. For a moment, he thought about going down fighting, but the longer the four of them were alive, the longer they’d have for an opportunity to present itself.

  He met Miranda’s eyes and nodded slightly. “Do as they say.” He followed her over, and they took up a position beside Tavyn, their gear over their shoulders.

  “Please,” Javyk said agreeably, “feel free to put your things down. Just don’t try anything or… it will go badly.”

  They set their gear on the deck. Rellen glanced up to the top of the quarterdeck where six more guards with loaded handheld crossbows stood.

  Javyk turned to the two guards beside him. “You two, put those down and come with me.” He strode calmly to the door beside the top of the stairs. Turning back to the captain, he said, “If any of them moves, kill everyone except that one,” he pointed at Rellen. “Shoot him in the groin. Twice. Our master will be able to deal with that.”

  Javyk then opened the door and strode in, with the two guards following close behind.

  “It’s time, milord.” Javyk’s voice came faintly from within the room a few moments later. “You two, pick that up and throw it over the port side. Try not to leave a mess.”

  Moments later, the two guards came out carrying a naked body between them. Miranda gasped in horror.

  “Gods have mercy,” Tavyn whispered. He dry-heaved once and turned away.

  Rellen could only stare. He knew all too well what Nissran torture looked like, although this was beyond his worst nightmare.

  It was Dancer… at least, what was left of him. His body had been thin and sickly before. He was bald now, not a single hair left on his entire body. His chest had been carefully flayed, the blood-red musculature exposed. The rest of his flesh was a latticework of bleeding wounds and, pink, freshly healed scars. It looked like someone had cut on him over and over again, as if they’d cut and healed and cut again. Rellen couldn’t comprehend how anyone could live long enough to endure such savagery.

  The guards carried Dancer’s ravaged body to the port railing and tossed him over the side, leaving a trail of crimson droplets along the deck. Whey they turned away from the railing, they both licked their hands clean of blood. The look in their eyes made the hair on the back of Rellen’s neck stand up.

  A moment later, Javyk stepped through the doorway with the satchel Dancer had been carrying slung over his shoulder. He walked back to his earlier position near Mygal. Toreth sun’Harrai followed him. Toreth’s head was bare, and he now wore the traditional blue and black robes of Nikostohr nobility. Toreth took several steps closer to Rellen, an almost apologetic look on his face.

  “Please forgive the theater,” he said, “but Javyk seems to have an appetite for such things, and I felt like indulging him. He wanted some recompense for your deceit. I suspect the look on your face was worth all this trouble.” He glanced at Javyk. “Did it meet your expectations?”

  “It was delicious,” Javyk purred. “Almost as delicious as Dancer.”

  Toreth turned back to Rellen. “As I said in Yaylo, I do like to spoil those who give me their complete devotion.” His head canted to the side with an almost expectant look upon his face. “You don’t recognize me… although there’s no reason you should.” He leaned forward slightly, peering deep into Rellen’s eyes, as if he were looking for something. “I, however, remember you. From Calamath.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rellen snapped, a confused look on his face. They’d gotten every last Nissran. He was sure of it. And the demon that tried to enter the baron’s son had been sent back to wherever it came from. Even the demon possessing the leader of the Nissran cult had been destroyed. Rellen watched it happen.

  Toreth smiled. “You really have no idea what you’re dealing with, which will make this all the sweeter when you do.” He drew in a breath and let it out with sublime satisfaction. “You’ll see things from this side of the mirror soon enough, but not before we indulge ourselves in a bit of suffering first. It’s such a lovely morning, after all.”

  “What? Are you going to kill them right here? What about the dock workers? The other passengers?”

  “Kill them?” Toreth stared at Rellen like he was a foolish child. “What I do to them is the least of your worries. Look around you, Guardian.” He motioned toward the guards. “They are mine.” He glanced out at the docks. “The docks are mine. At this point, most of the city is mine, and many came along willingly. Even Duke kyp’Tukeem and his family are mine. As for the passengers, their life force—their very lives—allowed me to keep Dancer alive for three days. The best part is that his agony was freely given. It was as sweet as anything I’ve tasted in a very, very long time.” He nodded toward Jaquinn. “He had no idea what was going on, and it happened right under his nose. I had originally planned on perverting him to my purposes, but now I have you.” Toreth’s eyes flared green. “The arrogance of humans, even after all this time, still astounds me.”