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Authors: Cindy Dees

The Dreaming Hunt (9 page)

BOOK: The Dreaming Hunt
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*   *   *

He looked around expectantly. The clearing, situated at the base of a small waterfall, was empty. Where was Tholin? How dare he keep his governor waiting! No matter what anyone else said, as long as he lived,
he
would be the true governor of Dupree. That avarian woman they'd put on his throne had better enjoy the title while she had it, for he
would
have both throne and title back.

“This place is very beautiful,” Marikeen purred from behind him. “I have a special affinity for water. You remembered that, didn't you? Oh, my lord, you are so considerate. I do not deserve you. I would do anything for you.” The blue striations in her skin swirled a little.

He raised a hand. “Enough. I am here to meet an important friend.”

Marikeen's gaze glittered with intelligence for an instant before the effect of the potion took over and her gaze melted into adoration once more. He'd long wondered how much women under the effects of his love potions remembered when he let the potions wear off. His impression was that their memories fogged over. But Marikeen had been enslaved less than a single cycle of the moon and was no unschooled peasant girl.

No matter. She would either serve the man he planned to give her to this night or she would die. And from what he knew of the jann girl and her brother, they were both survivors. Odd ducks, those jann. Elementally aligned, their skin reflected their elemental affinities. Marikeen's caramel-colored skin displayed blue whorls indicative of a mainly water-aligned jann.

A rustling in the brush behind him made him pivot sharply, gas globes in hand. “Who goes there?” he demanded.

“Stow your poisons, Anton. It is only me.”

“Tholin. I nearly killed you.” He sagged in relief. It had been a very long time since he actually worried about being bodily attacked by anyone. The day would come again, though, when fear alone would make people steer well clear of him.

The mage's hand glowed brightly with magic, which faded slowly as he strode into the clearing, grinning. “You could have
tried
to kill me. Mayhap you would have succeeded, mayhap not.”

Anton scowled, in no mood for Tholin's humor today. “What news?”

“A greenskin force was seen in Talyn last night, moving south. Also, I heard rumors of a Black Ship sailing for Haelos under orders to make haste.”

Anton jolted. “A Black Ship?” He devolved into a spate of cursing. The regular tax collection ship wasn't due for months! It would ruin everything if one of the mighty warships got here too soon! He paced the clearing in high agitation while his lieutenant looked on warily.

He could not
believe
he was so close to his goal and might be foiled yet again. The governess was as weak as a kitten, and if all had gone well last night, she was stripped of all her landsgraves. One solid attack by the Boki would be the end of Dupree. Then he would swoop in and rescue the colony, restore order, and be redeemed in the eyes of the Emperor. But now some Black Ship captain might gain all the glory that was supposed to be his!

He would have to move up the timetable of the attack. Whatever greenskin force the Boki had already assembled would have to be enough for an invasion of Dupree.

Tholin interrupted his turbulent thoughts. “Who's the girl? She doesn't look like one of your usual playthings.”

“She is no plaything. A love potion merely brought her amicably to this rendezvous.”

“She is an enemy brought low, then?”

Anton ignored the question. From whence the girl came was none of Tholin's affair. The mage looked around the clearing nervously as if he expected Boki to jump out and attack them. Little did Tholin know that the coming marauders worked for him.

“What can I do for you this night, my lord?”

Anton fingered the tattoo in the middle of his forehead, silently invoking their connection as members of the secretive Coil crime syndicate. His tattoo depicted a green viper wrapped sinuously around a golden sword. Not only was it his family's crest but it was also a sign of leadership in the Coil. A golden rattlesnake tattoo wrapped around Tholin's arm, its fanged head resting on the back of his hand, marking him as a longtime Coil member.

Anton replied, “I have brought this girl for you. A gift.” Marikeen wailed, and he snapped at her, “If you love me, you will do this for me. Tholin is a good friend of mine, and he can be a good friend to you.”

Again, the moment of curiosity in her eyes, maybe even speculation. And then the puppy-like worship took over. “Of course, my lord. If that is what you wish.”

Tholin burst out, “What use have I for a cast-off love slave of yours?”

“She is not my love slave,” Anton snarled. “I need her to disappear for a while. Somewhere she will remain safe.” Somewhere she would be difficult to find, but not so deeply buried that she could not act as bait. The girl would unquestionably draw her brother and his companions out into the open, but Anton hoped she would draw out a hidden fish lurking much deeper than those annoying children. A much bigger fish.
Much
bigger. After all, he knew who Marikeen's father was.

Tholin frowned and reached out to take the girl's hand in his. A momentary glow of magic indicated that he'd cast a spell upon her. A startled look crossed Tholin's features, and he cast considerably more magic into her unresisting hand this time, using his finger to draw a sign on the back of her wrist. The sigil glowed briefly and then blinked out of existence.

“What do you see?” Anton demanded. This man hadn't been his first choice for Mage's Guildmaster in Dupree for nothing. At least he had been until that buffoon Henrik Volen had been appointed in Anton's place to be the first governor of the newly formed colony some twenty years ago.

By the time Anton had managed to murder Volen and replace him as governor, that cursed solinari, Aurelius, had been too deeply entrenched in the position of guildmaster to dislodge and give Tholin the job. Ultimately, Tholin had proven more useful to Anton in the Coil and in acting as liaison to an even more elusive bunch: the Cabal.

Truth be told, Anton knew little of the Cabal and their goals except that they collected the most powerful magics in the land to themselves and seemed bent on achieving something as yet unknown to him. Two things he did know, though. One, they were formidable, and two, he was in dire need of allies at the moment. Hence, his gift to Tholin of a young elemental magic user whom he suspected was on her way to becoming a great mage in her own right.

“You did not lie, Anton. She is, indeed, a mage.”

Tholin was holding out on him; he'd seen more than mere magic in the jann girl. And if Anton had doubted that for a second, all doubt was dispelled when Tholin said briskly, “What can I do for you in return for you bringing her to me?”

Tholin never volunteered favors or, heavens forbid, gold to anyone unless he was getting the better end of the bargain. The girl must be even more talented than he'd guessed.

Pursing his lips, Anton answered, “I am currently experiencing difficulty in procuring the ingredients I need to make alchemical potions.” Given Tholin's sudden eagerness to get ahold of Marikeen, Anton went for broke and added, “In particular, I need sanguine fruit.”

“Sanguine fruit?” Tholin echoed. “From bloodthorn trees? Whatever for?”

It was the key ingredient in creating spirit death poison that would permanently kill a victim. It was by far the most difficult recipe he had ever mastered, and by far the deadliest. He had used up all the sanguine fruit his Boki contact had given him to make four spirit death poisons, one for each of the landsgraves who held land in the Lochlands of Dupree. But Tholin did not need to know any of that.

Anton shrugged. “I just need some of the fruit. You asked what you could do for me; that is what you can do. Get me that fruit.”

“I'll see what I can do. Bloodthorns only grow in the Forest of Thorns, though, and the Boki do not take kindly to intruders in their territory.”

Anton nodded, not mollified but pretending to be. He did not like the sensation of having been bettered in a business deal. Not one bit.

Tholin's voice, pitched to kindness and directed at Marikeen, startled Anton out of his sulk. “The first thing we must do, child, is get that slave mark off your cheek.”

The girl dipped her head in silent gratitude.

“Then we shall see to your training. You know the potential of the magic within you, do you not?”

“Yes, I do,” she answered bluntly.

Anton looked back and forth between them suspiciously. What potential? He already knew she was on her way to real power someday. But what else had that whoreson, Tholin, seen in her? He should take her back. Keep her for himself. Greed to possess her magic gnawed at him.

Marikeen turned to him and asked calmly, “When exactly will the love potion wear off?”

He blinked at her, stunned. Had she somehow managed to defeat the enhanced version of the poison he'd personally invented and refined? Water mages did sometimes have the capacity to purify liquids, including human blood. Had she spontaneously cleansed her body of the poison? He should study her. Take her back to his lab … oh, wait. He did not have a lab anymore. He did not even have his stash of ingredients with which to brew the simplest of poisons.

“End of next week,” he mumbled in belated response to Marikeen's startling question.

Distress blossomed in her dark gaze. “It is no matter. I shall love you till the end of time, potion or no. I cannot leave you, my lord.”

That was more like it. Blind devotion. If only he could feed the whole blasted colony his love poisons.

“Come, child,” Tholin murmured, urging her gently away from him. “I'm going to introduce you to a few of my friends. They study magic, and I believe they will be eager to speak with you. Afterward, you may return to Anton if you wish.”

“Do you promise?” she gasped hopefully.

“You have my solemn oath,” Tholin replied earnestly.

*   *   *

Raina was perplexed at this summons by Selea Rouge—a master assassin, no less—of her and Rosana to Hyland's house. Even more perplexing, there was no sign of Leland Hyland, who was more father than mentor to her, when she and Rosana arrived at his home. Eben was already there, waiting for them in the formal sitting room.

“What's going on?” she asked him.

The jann looked as confused as she felt. “I have no idea. Selea kicked me out of Leland's study, emerged with a fistful of messages he told Hyland's men to deliver, gave orders that he was not to be disturbed, and retreated into the office. He's still in there.”

Will and Aurelius arrived looking alarmed, and the solinari had the courage to ignore Selea's edict not to be disturbed and knocked on Hyland's study door. Selea emerged looking so grim that Raina's blood ran cold. The nulvari rarely showed any emotion at all, let alone this open distress.

Selea looked around. “We're all here, then. Hyland's man had trouble finding Sha'Li. She is submerged somewhere, and he was only able to ask a lizardman on shore that word be passed to her to join us here. My news is too urgent to wait for her, though.”

Raina braced herself as he continued, “I have received reports within the hour that all four of the Lochland landsgraves were attacked last night by assassins.”

She gasped in consternation.

Selea continued grimly, “Delphi was killed but lifed, and her killer was chased off. Beltane was attacked and is missing and presumed dead. Talyn has disappeared without a trace.”

He paused for a moment, gathering himself to share the last news, the most important news, about the one they all knew and loved so well, Leland. The length of that painful pause told her enough. Horror flowed over her and through her, choking her until she could not draw breath.

The words fell out of Selea's mouth singly like pebbles falling into water. “Hyland is believed dead. His manor house was burned to the ground. His body was recovered, and his spirit has neither been sensed nearby nor attempted resurrection.”

A silence so deep and profound that no breath was possible fell over them all. It lasted for one final, desperate moment of denial, and then the moment broke, and the grief crashed in on all of them.

Each breath felt like a hot knife stabbing Raina's side as a silent scream started in her skull and would not stop. Into that backdrop, a single thought formed.
He cannot be gone
.

But her heart told her without question that Leland had passed beyond the Veil, and this time he would not be coming back. The last time he had died, only the news that his son had been kidnapped had pulled him back from the Black Gates of the Void and the welcoming arms of his long-dead wife beyond.

But this time …

No. He was gone.

Selea moved out of the sitting room, leading the group to Leland's private study. The spacious workroom was as warm and welcoming as ever. How could its master be dead? Should not the very walls be weeping?

A commotion of sound and movement heralded the arrival of a visitor.

“Sha'Li!” Raina cried in surprised pleasure. She hadn't seen her lizardman friend in a long time. The black-scaled girl who'd accompanied them on their quest to find the Sleeping King wrapped Raina in a hug that nigh crushed her ribs. Stars, Sha'Li was strong. But then she'd been warrior trained from birth.

“A little air,” Raina wheezed.

“Sorry,” the lizardman girl muttered. Whether she referred to the over-strong embrace or the loss of their mentor, Raina could not tell. She nodded in return, her throat too tight for words.

Eben turned from beside the fireplace, his caramel-toned skin more mottled with elemental markings than usual, his face wet with tears. Raina moved silently to the big jann. They held on to each other in shared grief for a long time. They'd both lost a father this day.

BOOK: The Dreaming Hunt
11.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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