Armed & Magical
I was reaching for it when most of the door simply disintegrated.
Mychael all but fell into the room, his hands glowing white-hot with an unreleased spell. Instead of whatever he expected to find, he saw a soaking wet, naked seeker holding a dagger and a towel.
I clutched the towel in front me. “What the hell?”
I didn’t know who was more stunned, him or me. But I knew who was more embarrassed.
Mychael’s face went through several shades of pink in search of a blush. “You were shouting… The door was locked and you didn’t answer—”
“So you blew away my door?” I felt laughter bubbling up, probably a prelude to hysteria.
Mychael’s blush turned into a paladin’s indignation. “Yes, I blew away your door!”
“I was in the tub—” I managed through chattering teeth.
“I can see that.” His voice had a rough edge—and his sea blue eyes were looking at where my towel wasn’t.
I clenched my dagger between my teeth while I wrapped the towel around myself, restoring some semblance of decency. It wasn’t a particularly big towel, but it covered most of what needed to be covered.
“I fell asleep in the tub,” I said. “Sarad Nukpana was in my dream, sitting right there.” I pointed to the chair near the tub. “Your kicking chased him off.” I shivered with cold, and tried to smile. “Thanks. Good timing.”
There was a commotion in the hall. Vegard burst into the room, his ax drawn.
“Sir, we heard… Whoa!” He saw me and stopped dead in his tracks. He looked from me to Mychael, then at the door—or what was left of it. “I’ll come back later.”
“It was a misunderstanding, Vegard,” Mychael told him. “Wait for us at the end of the hall. In the meantime, see that no one comes in.”
“I’ll take care of it, sir.” And he was gone.
“Bring a new door,” I called after him. I looked at Mychael. “What do you mean, wait for us?”
In response, he pulled the blanket off my bed and crossed the room to me in three strides. He held the blanket between us, and kept his eyes on mine.
“Drop the towel,” he said, his voice low.
I gaped up at him. “Excuse me?”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll need it to dry off. I promise I won’t look.”
I snorted. “You’ve already seen everything.”
“Yes, I have.” He didn’t blush again, but the tips of his ears were pink—and his blue eyes had darkened.
He averted those eyes and resolutely kept them that way while I dried off. When I finished, he carefully wrapped the blanket around me, his expression serious.
“You need to get dressed.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not.”
Great. First I got to be Sarad Nukpana’s tub toy; now Mychael had news so bad even he admitted I wouldn’t like hearing it.
“The Seat of Twelve have requested to see you and Piaras. Immediately.”
I hadn’t been in this part of the citadel before. It was less military, more formal. Imposingly formal. We had a dozen armed Guardians as an escort. Vegard and Riston were among them. They didn’t look happy with where we were going. Maybe it was just me, but going somewhere inside the citadel with that many Guardians didn’t bode well. Mychael’s grim expression confirmed it.
“Do you know what kind of questions they’ll ask?” Piaras asked Mychael.
Piaras’s voice was steady, but I knew the kid had to be shaking like a leaf inside. He had absolutely no business being here. The only fear he should be dealing with today was recital stage fright.
“No, I don’t,” Mychael said. “But if any of their questions are for you, I’ll be responding to them. You won’t have to say a word.”
“Who called the meeting?” I asked, though I had a sneaking suspicion who was responsible.
“Justinius’s secretary delivered the Twelve’s summons.”
“Is that how it’s normally done?” I asked.
“No. Usually Justinius comes to see me himself.”
I smelled a setup. “Carnades will be there.” I didn’t ask it as a question.
“He will.”
“Who’s that?” Piaras asked.
“Carnades Silvanus is the senior mage on the Seat of Twelve,” Mychael told him.
“I thought the archmagus was the senior mage.”
“He is,” I told Piaras. “Carnades is one step down.” And that fact probably galled him every day of his life.
It could just be a question-and-answer session, but with Carnades Silvanus there, he’d probably find some way to turn it into a witch hunt. I knew Carnades had it in for me, but what I didn’t understand—and didn’t like one bit—was why the Twelve had asked to see Piaras. When I was getting dressed, I added enough discreet steel to make me feel comfortable. Mychael had seen me adding the last dagger and didn’t say a word. That told me a lot about what we were walking into.
“Am I in trouble for what I did the other day?” Piaras asked quietly.
“I’m in charge of the Guardians,” Mychael told him. “If you were in trouble for putting my men to sleep, you’d be in trouble with me. It was sabotage. You’re not in trouble.”
“Then why am I here?”
“I don’t know,” Mychael said honestly. “But you’re both guests of the archmagus and under his protection. And at this moment, you’re in my citadel and under my protection.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “No one will touch either one of you.”
The old man was only going to be able to play that guest card for so long. I knew it. Mychael had to know it. Piaras didn’t need to.
Our destination was behind a pair of massive bronze doors with an only slightly less massive pair of black-robed mages standing guard. The welcoming committee had Carnades’s name written all over it.
Mychael stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Raine, when we get inside, let me answer all of the questions.”
“What, you don’t trust my diplomatic skills?”
“You don’t have any.”
“What if they ask me a direct question?”
“Just let me handle it.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep.
The mages opened the doors and stepped aside for us to enter.
This wasn’t a room for the Seat of Twelve to meet—it was a star chamber for passing judgment. The Twelve were seated on a raised dais in chairs that looked more like thrones than anything. There were a few humans; most were elves. They were highborns just like Carnades. Great. The big chair in the middle, which I assumed belonged to Justinius Valerian, was conspicuously vacant. Carnades Silvanus was standing in front of it.
Oh yeah, this was a setup.
I also knew where this was going. Piaras didn’t need to be anywhere near this room. Carnades wanted Piaras here for a reason, and I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
There were observation balconies on either side of the room. Both were occupied. Now it looked less like a setup, and more like a trap. I kept my face expressionless. I wouldn’t give anyone in the room the satisfaction.
In the balcony to the left were four black-garbed goblins. They looked like Khrynsani wannabes—they had the desire to be evil, but not the athletic ability to get through the boot camp. Bookish looking plus the desire to make the lives of others as miserable as possible. Had to be the Khrynsani lawyers.
In the other balcony were two elves. I recognized both of them. Giles Keril, the elven ambassador to Mid; and Taltek Balmorlan from elven intelligence.
I swore silently.
Mychael stepped forward. “I received a summons from the archmagus.” His voice was perfectly controlled. “Where is he?”
“The summons was in the name of the Seat of Twelve,” Carnades corrected him.
“Where is the archmagus?”
“He is unable to join us.”
“An inquest cannot take place without the full Seat of Twelve—that includes the archmagus.”
“This isn’t an inquest, Paladin Eiliesor. My colleagues and I merely want to ask a few questions. We are unanimous in that request.”
Mychael’s face betrayed no emotion as he glanced at the balcony with the two elves. “And your guests?”
“Have a vested interest in the answers.”
Vegard was standing by my right side, and bent to whisper in my ear. “Unanimous means the boss can’t stop them from asking.”
“We have received requests from our honored elven and goblin guests,” Carnades said. “Most of these requests concern Mistress Benares. We acknowledge that she is also a guest with us and under the protection of the archmagus. But as a courtesy to our other guests, we have asked you all here to answer their questions and hear their petitions in an open meeting—where we can all hear the answers.”
“We will hear our guests’ questions and petitions,” Mychael said formally.
“Like we have a choice,” Vegard muttered under his breath.
Carnades sat in his own chair, not the old man’s. I have to say I was surprised.
“The legal representatives of the royal House of Mal’Salin and the Brotherhood of the Khrynsani have filed a request with Ambassador Keril that Mistress Benares be turned over to them for extradition.”
“The archmagus and I are aware of their request,” Mychael replied coolly.
“Their request has now turned into a demand,” Carnades said. “They claim that Mistress Benares is an agent for elven intelligence.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Do a little contract work for the agency and it comes back to bite you in the ass,” I muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. The human lady on the Twelve chuckled behind her hand. There was one potential ally.
“Raine, I will respond for you.” Mychael’s voice was terse, and inside my head.