“That was a direct question, Master Rivalin.” Justinius’s voice cracked like a whip. “I require a response.”
“Yes, sir. I know.” Piaras raised his head and met the archmagus’s intense gaze. “And no, sir, I didn’t.”
The old man’s eyes glittered like sapphires. “Didn’t what, Master Rivalin?”
“Think about any of those things, sir. I just acted.”
“And why did you ‘just act’?”
Piaras stood a little straighter. “No one else was doing anything, and if I hadn’t acted, more people could have been hurt or killed.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I did what I thought was right, sir . . . And I would do it again.”
The archmagus sat in silence, unmoving. “And you would do it alone,” he said quietly. “Just like you did this morning.” His next words were slow and precise. “There was no Sarad Nukpana in the Quad with you this morning—just your talent and foolhardy bravery.” The tiniest smile curled the corner of the archmagus’s thin lips. “You’re noble to the point of suicide, boy.” He glanced at Mychael. “Just like a certain paladin of my acquaintance.”
Piaras’s eyes flicked to Mychael, and he bit the corner of his bottom lip to stop a smile.
Justinius spoke. “Master Rivalin?”
“Sir?”
“Look at me.”
Piaras did.
I could feel Justinius doing the same kind of gaze with Piaras that he’d done with me.
After a few moments, the old man broke his gaze and chuckled. “Bukas. Brutal savages. A fine choice, Master Rivalin.” He looked at Mychael. “And you said they were solid, complete with roars?”
Mychael nodded. “Roars that took out all the first-floor windows on the Judicial Building.”
Justinius laughed, a bright bark. “Nicol and his office lackeys will have a hell of a cleanup in the morning. I’d like to see that.”
“I only meant to conjure one, sir,” Piaras hurried to explain.
Justinius waved his hand dismissively. “You got carried away with all the excitement; happens to the best of us.”
“But I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Have you ever been attacked by elven embassy guards disguised as Guardians?”
“No, sir, but I—”
“Just because you’ve never done something before doesn’t mean you can’t do it, and do it well. There’s a first time for everything. It appears that the more you’re challenged, the more you’re capable of. Maestro Cayle told me the same thing about you.”
“He did?”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“Yes, sir, but I didn’t know he thought I could—”
“When Maestro Cayle wants you to know what he thinks, and what he thinks you can do, he’ll tell you.” The old man grinned impishly. “Unless I tell you first.”
Piaras flushed slightly with well-earned pleasure. “Yes, sir.”
“In the meantime, I’m inclined to trust his assessment.”
Piaras didn’t respond. I could virtually see the wheels turning in his mind. “So Sarad Nukpana didn’t have anything to do with the bukas?”
“Not. One. Thing. Once again, it was just you and yours. Nice work, young man.”
Piaras looked like the weight of the world had just dropped off of his shoulders. “Thank you, sir.”
“Though apparently Nukpana was involved when you took on those elven embassy guards.” His expression darkened. “Disguised as Guardians. How many survived?” he asked Mychael.
“Two, sir. Jari Devent and an embassy guard by the name of Kasen Aratus.”
“Isn’t Devent’s brother the defense attaché at the elven embassy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And his uncle is with elven intelligence.”
Mychael’s distaste was obvious. “Correct.”
“And Aratus . . . Isn’t that General Daman Aratus’s son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Shit,” the old man spat.
“My thoughts exactly.”
I looked from one of them to the other. “What?”
Mychael answered me. “Taltek Balmorlan receives much of his funding from General Aratus.”
“One hand washes the other,” Justinius said. “And rumor has it that General Aratus can’t take a crap without permission from his new boss.”
That wasn’t exactly enlightening. “And this is bad how?”
Mychael sighed. “Raine, General Aratus reports to Markus Sevelien.”
Chapter 18
My mouth fell open and stayed there.
Normally news like that would have me blistering the air blue, or looking for something to throw or hit. Right now I was too shocked to do any of it.
And I felt too betrayed.
Duke Markus Sevelien was the elven intelligence agency’s chief officer in Mermeia. I’d done some work for him over the years that mostly consisted of finding abducted elves—diplomats, intelligence agents, aristocrats who’d gotten involved in something over their highborn heads. It was gratifying work and I was good at it. Markus had recruited me, and I’d only worked with him. And he’d made no excuses about why he wanted to me to work for him. Markus thought my being related to criminals helped me know the criminal mind. I wasn’t proud of it, but he was right. If it could be picked up, pried off, or in any way pilfered, my family would make off with it.
I liked Markus; he’d always been up-front and honest with me. And if I’d been standing face-to-face with him right now, he’d probably still be honest—his loyalties were to elven intelligence, not to me. He’d put any friendship we had to the side as an impediment to him doing his job. And I knew from past experience that Markus would do his job at any and all costs. Whatever was going on wasn’t personal; it was business.
It was the Saghred.
And since the Saghred had attached itself to me, that made me his business. I could almost understand that; the Saghred was a weapon that elven intelligence wasn’t about to let fall into goblin hands. That meant he couldn’t allow me to fall into goblin hands. Hell, I didn’t want to be in anyone’s hands.
But that didn’t explain the chain of command that led from Markus to Taltek Balmorlan to what had happened to Piaras. Markus had always made it his business to know what all of his people were up to. I was sure that included me. If General Aratus was one of his people, and Balmorlan his lackey, Markus had to know about Piaras.
And Markus had to know what Piaras meant to me.
Some last part of me refused to believe that Markus had ordered Piaras kidnapped for agency use. Piaras was just a boy. Okay, a young man. But Markus wouldn’t order one of his own people taken against their will.
Or would he?
I felt the rage building and did nothing to stop it.
“Girl, we don’t know that Sevelien ordered anything.”
Justinius had been following my every thought. I knew Mychael had. Good. It’d save me explaining why I was about to put my fist through the nearest wall.
“We don’t know he didn’t,” I said through clenched teeth.
“He’s the one you know, isn’t he?” Piaras asked quietly. “The one you’ve worked for.”
I swore silently. I’d never told Piaras about Markus because I didn’t want him involved in any way with the agency. The kid was entirely too good at listening when he wasn’t supposed to. Apparently my efforts at secrecy didn’t work. I took a deep breath, half hoping that it’d calm me down. That didn’t work, either. No sense denying it now. “Yes, he is.”
“I’m sorry,” Piaras said.
I waited a moment for that statement to make sense. It didn’t. “What for? None of this is your—”
“That’s not what I meant, Raine. I’m sorry that someone you trusted betrayed you.” His expression reflected controlled anger. A man’s anger. “No one should treat you like that. You don’t deserve any of this.”
Piaras wasn’t worried about his own safety or why Markus might want him. Right now all of his concern was for me. My vision blurred again. The old man’s fireplace was too damned smoky.
“Thank you.” It was all I could manage to say. I waited a few seconds until I was sure I had myself under control. “Mychael, let’s operate under the assumption that the general and Balmorlan took their craps because Markus told them to.” My voice was hard, my words clipped. “I want to know the instant Markus Sevelien sets foot on this island. I don’t think he’ll come, but if he does, I want to know about it. Immediately. I’ll be telling the same thing to Phaelan and Uncle Ryn. If Markus does show up, I will know about it, and we will have a talk.”
“Raine, I don’t think that’s a—”
“Good idea?” I snapped. “No, it’s not. Markus having anything to do with what happened to Piaras wasn’t a good idea, either.” My voice dropped to a hissing whisper. “And if he was involved, I will make him realize just how bad his choice was.”
“Son, you don’t need five hundred Guardians,” Justinius told Mychael. “Just point this one in the right direction and set her off.”
I couldn’t get my hands on Sarad Nukpana, but Markus Sevelien was flesh and blood. My reaction was violent and primitive, but I was a violent and primitive kind of woman and Mychael knew it. His eyes stayed locked with mine for the span of a few heartbeats. I had to force my breathing back to normal.
“Sir,” Mychael said, slowly taking his eyes from mine, “do you have enough strength to ward Piaras’s mind against Sarad
Nukpana? I’ll be assigning four Guardians to help him resist any impulse that may get through, but Piaras needs to know when he’s being tampered with.”
The old man snorted. “Of course I have the strength. Which four Guardians?”
