BlackWing: First Ordinance, Book 3 (24 page)

"I feel like a swim. Bring my suit and make sure the water in the pool is warm enough. It's freezing outside."

"When we take Der'Vek for you, my Lord, you will find it warmer and the view of the sea much more to your liking."

"Then it can't happen soon enough, can it? Send that fool Barstle Cardino to me. I'll ask him questions while I swim."

"I'll see to it right away."

* * *

"I don't know who Caylon Black is, or how he's managed to keep Mundia alive," Barstle mumbled.

"Have you had contact with him again, after he made short work of you and your intended attackers?"

"No." Barstle hung his head, refusing to meet Vardil's eyes. "We've shut off the natural gas going to Mundia—they should have frozen to death by now. I can't get drones into the city, either. They're stopped on the outskirts; how I don't understand. The vid goes blank, as if it's been shut off in midair."

"I'll have my witch and warlock devise something, then," Vardil growled. "We will penetrate the perimeter of Mundia, rest assured."

"Thank you, Lord Cayetes. Those miscreants must be taught a lesson. Mundia will be ours," Barstle breathed.

"Mundia will be mine," Vardil corrected, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Barstle. "Tell me, how goes the recalibration on the ranos cannon?"

"It looks quite promising, my Lord. A few more days at most, I think."

"Good. I have targets to destroy. Go. Make sure everything is done correctly. I have vengeance to exact."

* * *

Quin

"I hear that the common quarter is nearly empty in Der'Vek," Sal said at dinner. "Parts of the city are still burning from the battles between crime families. Refugees are crowding into the fields twenty clicks south, hoping to stay warm and keep from starving. The winter is bad enough there, but it's worse here. At least they knew to travel in a southerly direction."

"We need to keep those who aren't part of the army busy," Bel Erland suggested. "Perhaps we can put them to making emergency food packets?"

"Like trail rations?" Caylon asked.

"Yes. Gran calls them em-are-ees for some reason, which I've never figured out."

Sal snickered.

"You know, don't you?" Bel turned toward Sal.

"It's an old Earth term," Sal grinned. "An abbreviation for meal ready to eat."

"The letters don't match up," Bel Erland snorted. "I know that much, at least."

"Because old Earth doesn't speak Alliance common," Sal said.

"Wait—I feel something pinging my radar," Bel Erland stood.

"What?" Caylon asked, immediately on guard.

"A warlock or witch is trying to get past the sensory shield I have around Mundia," Bel explained.

"Hmmph. They won't get past what Kaldill and Daragar have put up," Sal snorted.

"That's not what worries me. We've killed all the drones they've sent. Now, somebody is asking a witch and warlock to try to get through by scrying. When they discover they can't get in, they'll realize we have someone with power living in Mundia."

"I say let them come if they want to," Caylon muttered, lifting a roll from a nearby basket. "I'd appreciate a good fight."

"That may convince them to band together against us, rather than fighting each other," Lafe said.

"Good point," Caylon nodded at Lafe.

"They won't know how much power is here," Kaldill said. "Only that someone is blocking them out."

What are they talking about?
Bleek sent mindspeech to me.
Who is Daragar?

You have godlings, a Sirenali and a warlock at the table
, I replied.
If Daragar were here, you'd have a Larentii, too
.

Bleek, attempting to hide sudden concern, lifted his wineglass and drained it after my explanation.

You have no need to worry
, I sent.
Unless you have evil planned, they will protect Barc—and you—because I ask it
.

Bryan Riley had listened quietly to the conversation, no doubt making mental notes to record later for his article. He moved so quietly through the mansion that he didn't interfere or bother anyone with his presence.

"How do you plan to get the food to the refugees?" He asked, speaking for the first time.

"I can do it," Bel shrugged. "It's a simple relocation spell."

"I help," Yanzi offered.

"We'll need the supplies," Berel said. "Where and how much? I can contact my father—he'll put a list of sellers together. We may need more than one—we'll be feeding many."

"Perhaps we should provide solar-powered camping stoves," Sal mused. "They'll serve two purposes—heat and a cooking surface."

"Tents?" Berel asked. "If Father contacts outdoor recreation companies, they may be able to supply most of what we need, including powdered milk and water purification canisters."

"What about the fighting in Der'Vek?" Bryan asked.

"They're lobbing small explosives, with a few minor skirmishes between private armies at the moment," Caylon said. "Salidar and I spent an hour there yesterday, watching. Every family compound has been hit in some way—a few families have warlocks protecting the vital portions of their homes, but these warlocks aren't the most powerful."

"We should be grateful for that," Bel said. "The good ones cost too much."

"Bleek?" I turned to him.

"Quin?" His dark eyes became wary.

"Who is Cayetes' warlock?"

Bel Erland drew in a breath—this was news he and his father had searched for—I could see it easily in him.

"He has two," Bleek sighed. "Twins. Deris and Daris."

"No," Bel Erland breathed.

* * *

Le-Ath Veronis

Lissa

"What do you mean, they're distant relatives to me?" I snapped.

"Well, to Wylend—your grandfather, and your father, too," Erland winced. "Several times removed. They were notified when Wylend abdicated, putting our son on the throne."

"So you're saying that those two are in line for the throne—if everybody else dies?"

"You're in line for the throne before they are," Erland offered.

"Right. What the hell are they plotting? Is that what Cayetes promised them if they did this illegal shit for him?"

"I have no idea whether Cayetes promised them anything, except a mountain of money plus living expenses," Erland spoke evenly in an attempt to calm me down.

"I swear, if they attempt a coup against Rylend," I hissed.

"He can protect himself, remember? He doesn't need his mother swooping in for the likes of those two."

"What are their levels?" I asked.

"To perform a transference, you must be level three or higher. It's my guess that at least one of them may be a level four. Wylend tested both when they were young."

"I don't like this," I muttered. My arms were crossed tightly over my chest as I gazed out the arboretum windows. Yes, I felt defensive. How could I not? Cayetes could destroy everything, and I was only now learning that distant relatives could be helping to accomplish that.

"Do you think they're helping to hide him? Is that possible?" I whirled to face Erland again.

"There is a small possibility that they've found a way to amplify Cayetes' Sirenali's talents," he frowned after mulling my question for a moment. "It would be draining, so if they've found a way, one of them will have to spend most of their talent and power on that, while the other focuses on the transferences and anything else Cayetes wants."

"And you're telling me that Ry can take care of himself," I tossed up a hand. "If they come at him with enhanced Sirenali, who is going to see them coming?"

"That means they'll have to amass a great enough fortune to afford to launch a coup, and take the Sirenali with them when they leave Cayetes. He's not going to let that happen as long as he's alive, you know."

"How will he stop them?" I almost shouted.

"If I know Cayetes, he has another card up his sleeve," Erland huffed. "Let me look into this. Bleek reported what he knew. Perhaps he didn't know everything."

"You think Cayetes has something—or someone—to hold over their heads? What if it or they go rogue, too?"

"We have to find out what it is, first, before we can make any assumptions," Erland soothed.

* * *

Puntia

"We couldn't get through the barrier around Mundia, my Lord," Deris said. "We have searched for Bleek as well, but we found nothing. If he were dead, we could locate his body by scrying. Perhaps he was destroyed and his ashes scattered. That could keep us from knowing his whereabouts."

"What about the coffin?" Vardil demanded.

Deris exchanged a swift glance with his sister, Daris. "We know where it is," Deris sighed. After all, they had no care for the child inside the coffin. Their only concern was what lay beneath the child's bed within the coffin.

It had been sealed against them as well—Vardil had snapped the lock on right after they'd placed the boy inside. Only one could open the lock, and he held the words and voice necessary—unless they found the one who'd placed the spell on the lock to begin with.

Deris and his sister knew how impossible that was; Marid of Belancour was dead—Cayetes had seen to that.

"Well?" Vardil said, "Where is it, then?"

"It lies in the dungeons of the glass castle on Le-Ath Veronis. It is my guess that they placed it there since they cannot remove the child or open the coffin."

"Well, well," Vardil frowned. "Let me know if anyone moves it. If Bleek were alive, he'd have contacted me and gone after the coffin—he would never have left it in the hands of an enemy. The child can stay where he is forever. Continue to serve me and I will keep my bargain with you—to return what is yours when the time is right."

He thinks we only want the jewels on the coffin. He means to take Karathia for himself
, Daris muttered into Deris' mind.

He cannot hold it. He will need us
.

We do not need him
.

We need him to get us there
, Deris responded.
We have time, sister. We will have our due
.

Just make sure your location spell for the coffin works; we cannot lose it
, she warned.

Never fear. The spell is strong
.

"Back to Mundia," Vardil said. "Why can't you get through? What sort of barrier?"

"One placed by a witch or warlock, my Lord," Deris explained.

"A stronger witch or warlock," Daris nodded.

"You're fifth level," Vardil narrowed his eyes at Deris.

"I am, but that doesn't mean I'm the strongest fifth level. Someone is keeping us out, after we attempted full force against it. You have an enemy, my Lord. One with a powerful warlock at his back."

"BlackWing," Vardil muttered. "I want information," he shouted. "I want this BlackWing and I want him to die in front of me. I assume you can handle that much, can't you?" His gaze leveled on Deris.

"Yes, my Lord. It will be as you say."

* * *

Quin

Production of camp rations for the displaced of Der'Vek began the following day. Bel Erland, Yanzi and Berel had worked through the night, making contacts and placing emergency orders.

After our training session that morning, Jayna and I, with help from Mell, Pellen and Jeslin, helped a small army of volunteer workers clear out an old warehouse and set it up to assemble meal packets.

The initial packets would also include a health and hygiene packet, with soap, a comb, a small first-aid kit and other personal items.

One section of our volunteers put other, larger packs together, which contained a tent and a camp stove.

"I heard Caylon say that some are fishing for food while others search through the fields looking for anything left from the last harvest," Jayna informed me.

"I worry that many may need medical attention," I said, although her words concerning the last harvest worried me. Berel said the growing of food was done near the equator. The short distance the refugees had traveled south of Der'Vek was still not close to the equator. I wanted to go there and see this for myself, in addition to healing those I could.

"Please, don't place yourself in danger," Jayna lifted her eyes from the packet she was assembling.

"Caylon and Sal went to Der'Vek. Someone can take me to the refugee camps," I asserted.

"You'll exhaust yourself," Jayna lowered her eyes.

"Lives are worth exhaustion," I said. "To me."

"I'm worried," Jayna said. "About you."

"I'll ask Daragar," I said. "If he is with me, I should be fine."

* * *

Avii Castle

Justis

"It's become something of a novelty—like a museum piece," Gurnil said. "I suggest moving it into one of the locked cells or placing it in the library."