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Authors: Jennifer Fallon

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BOOK: The Gods of Amyrantha
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A bit of kindling and some tender loving care,
he thought, glancing around the tattered lean-to with its split planking walls and leaking roof,
and it'll be quite toasty in here.

Getting the fire going again gave him something to do. He was sure Maralyce would emerge eventually, if only to tell him to leave again. In the meantime, there was no reason why he shouldn't be warm.

Or as warm as I'm likely to get in this pitiful excuse for shelter.

The simple task also kept Declan's mind off another much more disturbing train of thought. The spectre of those three unmarked graves further down the trail still haunted him, and all the denials in the world couldn't hold back the creeping suspicion that he knew who must be buried in them.

It took a while to coax the fire back to life, but once he had, Declan opened his pack, took out the last of the cheese and jerky he'd brought with him, and with his back to the warm stone of the fire-pit in Maralyce's forge, he settled down to wait, trying not to dwell on the one question that refused to go away.

If Shalimar and his escort had made it here to Maralyce's mine without mishap, where are they?

CHAPTER 19

  

  

While it wasn't unheard of for a slave to act as a diplomat, it was rare enough that Tiji intended to make the most of her status as an official envoy of the Glaeban king. She travelled from Herino in style in a Crasii-guided ship — with her own cabin, no less — all the way to Whitewater, where she changed to a smaller, and therefore safer, vessel for the journey through the Whitewater Narrows to the coast. After several nights as a guest at an inn normally reserved for human patrons, she boarded a sleek ocean-going sloop for the crossing to the Chelae Islands and then south onto Ramahn, the fabled Crystal City of Torlenia.

The Crystal City didn't let her down. Approaching the city on the morning tide, the chalky, salt-encrusted cliffs glittered like gemstones. Tiji leaned on the railing, covered by a simple long white linen coat and broad straw hat, watching the city grow larger in the distance, trying to appear unimpressed. Secretly, her heart was pounding. She was enjoying this opportunity to stand on deck and watch the city approaching without feeling guilty or nervous. She'd not ventured out of her adopted country openly since Declan brought her back from Senestra when she was fifteen years old. Usually she was on missions that required much hiding, lurking in dark, dank holds and remaining hidden.

Tiji's life before Declan found her was more a montage of isolated incidents, rather than a coherent

memory. She remembered random, disconnected faces. Odd, seemingly trivial incidents and a few bitter, tormented nightmares of beatings and lingering pain she had gone to a great deal of trouble to put out of her mind. It left her with nothing she could cling to. There was nothing in Tiji's past she could look back on and call childhood. It was almost as if she didn't
have
a past. As if she was born, fully grown, the day Declan traded a purse of gold for her freedom.

Tiji wondered if she'd simply blocked the past out of her mind, or if Declan's assertion she'd been drugged to keep her docile was actually the case. It may be a little bit of both. Whatever the case, stepping into a foreign country with a diplomatic pouch — offering a level of protection few humans enjoyed, let alone other Crasii — filled the young chameleon with a sense of anticipation and delight she'd rarely experienced before, despite the gravity of the news she carried.

There was no need to sneak around in Ramahn, something Tiji was forced to do more often than not, when on a mission for Declan Hawkes. This time, when the ship docked, she asked the captain to arrange a litter for her, which he did without so much as a questioning look. Her small amount of baggage was unloaded first and carried off the ship for her by one of the crew. The customs man on the dock's manner changed from disdain to obsequiousness as soon as she showed him her papers and within minutes she was on her way to the Glaeban embassy compound while the second class passengers were still getting off the boat.

Although her arrival was unexpected to her intense relief Lady Desean was home when she arrived, saving Tiji the necessity of having to explain why she was here to the Duke of Lebec, who — according to Declan — had no idea the Tide Lords were even real, let alone any idea of the threat they posed to the mortal inhabitants of Amyrantha.

Arkady Desean at least knew the truth about the Tide Lords and would understand the importance of an envoy's arrival bearing news about them. Sure enough, once Tiji explained her status as a royal envoy to the steward who answered the door and showed him her commission, a few moments later, on receiving word a courier had arrived with a message from the King's Spymaster, Tiji was led straight into the seraglium and the presence of the Duchess of Lebec.

Arkady Desean was a beautiful woman. Tiji had heard others say it, and knew it on an intellectual level, although her attractions were lost on the chameleon. Declan thought her beautiful, at any rate — Tiji knew that — so she supposed Arkady must be. She was tall for a woman, much taller than Tiji, and had obviously been relaxing in the afternoon heat. Her long dark hair was let down and she wore a loose, red-silk shift, made of a fabric so fine the mere breeze created by her passing was enough to stir it into motion. Looking around with interest, Tiji followed the female servant who had admitted her to the seraglium. The main room reminded Tiji of the atriums sometimes featured
in
the larger houses of Glaeba, but this was roofed and although a fountain trickled musically into a tiled pool
in
the centre of the room, it did nothing to relieve the relentless heat.

Arkady rose to her feet, making no effort to hide her surprise as Tiji made her way to the couches on the other side of the fountain where the lady waited.

'You're Declan's chameleon,' the duchess exclaimed.

'Yes, your grace,' she agreed, snatching her wide-brimmed hat from her head, thinking the expression
Declan's chameleon
made her sound like somebody's pet lizard. 'Master Hawkes sends his ... regards.'

'You must be tired after your journey,' the duchess said, indicating Tiji should take a seat. 'Would you like something to drink?'

Tiji nodded, and sat down opposite the small table between them, placing the hat on the seat beside her. 'What's the water like here?'

Arkady Desean grimaced. 'Not fit for human — or Crasii — consumption, I fear. Will wine do? Or we might have some ale in the kitchen if you'd prefer it.'

'Wine would be fine, thank you, your grace.'

Arkady sent the human woman who had led Tiji into the seraglium to fetch wine for her guest and resumed her own seat. 'Your name is Tiji, isn't it?'

'Yes, your grace,' she replied, a little surprised the duchess had known that. She'd never met her officially before. For Arkady to know her name, Declan must have said something about his chameleon Crasii to her in the past.

I wonder what else they talk about when they're alone.

'And Declan? Is he well?' the duchess asked, in a casual tone that made Tiji smile.
Tides, you're as bad as he is.

'Very well,' Tiji assured her. 'He regrets that the business of state prevents him from visiting you ... and your honoured husband ... himself.'

Arkady smiled, which made her seem much less imperious. 'Yes, I suppose it would raise the odd eyebrow, wouldn't it? Have you been to Torlenia before, Tiji?'

'A number of times, your grace.'

'Then you must be fully informed about the unique, wearying and endless number of customs our hosts have regarding the females of
all
species. Did you come through the city dressed like that?'

Tiji nodded.

'I'm surprised you weren't stopped.'

'I was in a covered litter, your grace,' she explained. 'And people tend to think I'm a boy, anyway. It's not having any hair, I think.'

'A lucky misconception,' Arkady said, and then she stopped as the servant sent to fetch the wine returned. She waited while the wine was poured, dismissed the woman with a distant smile and turned her attention back to Tiji. 'You have news for me, I assume?'

Tiji glanced around the large atrium before fixing her eyes on the duchess. 'Is it safe to talk here, my lady?'

'The garden might be safer.'

'Then we should take a turn around it, your grace. What I have to tell you is for your ears only.'

'Declan thinks your Lady Chintara is actually Kinta the Charioteer,' Tiji blurted out as soon as they were alone amidst the riotous tropical gardens of the women's quarters.

The duchess was silent for a long time before she finally spoke, and when she did, she didn't sound in the least bit surprised.

'That would explain a great deal.'

'You don't seem shocked by the news,' Tiji remarked. She'd never pegged the duchess for such a cool head. Perhaps she didn't grasp what it meant, if it's really Kinta ...'

'Then we're facing a very serious problem,' Arkady finished for her. 'Or at least the Torlenians are. Has our Jaxyn made his move yet?'

Tiji shook her head. 'Declan seems to think they're biding their time until the Tide returns enough to be certain that when they announce themselves, they'll be unassailable.'

'They?' Arkady asked, glancing down at the chameleon. 'When did Jaxyn become a
they?'
'Tides, you wouldn't have heard,' Tiji said apologetically. 'Your husband's niece, your grace, the one who married Prince Mathu —'

'Yes, I know who she is,' the duchess cut in. 'What about her?'

'She's not who you think she is either, your grace. She's actually Diala the Sorceress.'

'Kylia is the
Minion
Maker?' Arkady asked in surprise.

Tiji was shocked by the question. Very few people knew Diala's nickname was the Minion Maker. Most people referred to her as the Sorceress, the name the Tarot gave her. 'So it seems.'

'Tides, this is turning into a nightmare!'

Tiji nodded. 'That's the general feeling all round, your grace.'

'Well ... what's Declan doing about it? What's the
Cabal
doing about it? And where is the real Kylia? Is she a prisoner somewhere? Or
dead?
Tides! What do I tell Stellan about his niece?'

Tiji stopped walking and placed her hand on Arkady's arm. 'You'll tell him nothing, your grace,' she informed the duchess in a tone that left no room for argument. 'What you
will
do, however, is find a way to get me in to see Chintara so I can confirm her identity, one way or another.'

'And then what?' Arkady asked, her expression grim.

'We get word to the Cabal,' Tiji said with a shrug, as they resumed their walk through the gardens. 'And hope
they've
got some idea on the subject of what we're supposed to do next, because the Tides know there's not a whole lot you and I can do about it, your grace.'

CHAPTER 20

  

  

'You'll be replacing that wood you've burned before you leave.'

Declan snapped out of his doze at the sound of Maralyce's voice, cracking his head on the side of the forge as he sat up. It was very dark and very cold in the lean-to, except for the small patch of warmth around the fire-pit. The wind had picked up and as he scrambled to his feet, he discovered his fingers were numb and he couldn't feel the end of his nose.

The immortal stood over him, hands on her hips, her expression as unwelcoming as it had been earlier in the day.

'You come here uninvited. You steal my firewood. Who the Tides do you think you are, boy?'

Declan rubbed his eyes, pushing the fugue of sleep away, cursing his foolishness in allowing himself to doze off. It was hours since he'd spoken to Maralyce the first time, so long that he'd almost made up his mind to try again in the morning, and if he still had no luck, return down the trail to those three graves and realise his worst fears by discovering who was buried in them.

He hadn't expected the immortal to seek him out. He certainly hadn't planned his first conversation of substance with her to start like this.

'My name is Declan Hawkes —'

'Shalimar's grandson?'

Declan looked at her in shock. 'You
know
my grandfather?'

'Is your grandfather the Tidewatcher?' 'Yes.'

'Then I know him. What are you doing here?'

'I came looking for him.'

'Why?'

'Because he's missing, and he was last seen coming up here to visit you.'

Maralyce stared at him for a long moment and then turned her back on him. 'S'pose you'd better come into the house before you die of exposure then,' she grumbled with ill grace, stalking out of the lean-to.

Not at all sure he wasn't still dreaming, Declan grabbed his pack and scurried after her. It had stopped raining but the wind had picked up and the clear sky meant it was icy at this altitude, even though it was still officially summer. Worried the immortal might change her mind about the invitation, he stuck close behind her as she stepped into the warm toasty glow of her tiny cabin. As he followed her inside, Declan received his second shock in as many minutes.

BOOK: The Gods of Amyrantha
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