Darkness Rising: Disciples of the Horned One Volume One (Soul Force Saga Book 1) (19 page)

D
amien figured
they managed fifteen miles before the sun dropped so low in the sky that they had to stop and make camp. The roads this close to the capital had little snow to bother them, the tread of hundreds of horses and wagons having stomped it down to nothing. Damien appreciated that almost as much as he appreciated the invisible soul force pad he’d conjured between him and his mare. Lane couldn’t see it and what she didn’t know about she couldn’t yell at him for.

She led them off the road into a caravan cutout, a little open patch where travelers could make camp. The clearing could accommodate ten wagons and fifty people, so the two of them and their three animals made little impression.

Six inches of fresh snow covered the ground. No one had used this cutout for a week or two at least. The ring of stone surrounding the fire pit looked like a circle of miniature snowmen.

“Do you want to tend the horses or clear off a spot for us to sleep and start a fire?” Lane asked.

“I’m good with either.” It surprised him that she’d bothered to ask what he wanted instead of just giving him his marching orders.

“I’ll take the horses.”

Lane dismounted and he joined her, passing his reins over. She led the animals to a small clump of pasture pine at the edge of the cutout. Damien kicked around through the snow like he was using his feet to clear it off. Beside him an invisible broom ten times the size of a normal one brushed the ground clear in a couple of minutes.

Damien left the now-clear campsite and went to join Lane by the trees. Maybe he could find some dry branches to get a fire going. When he arrived she had the horses unsaddled and was busy rubbing his mare down. She looked up as he approached; she must have heard him tromping through the snow.

“What?” She sounded mad. The woman sure carried a lot of anger.

Damien held his hands up in surrender. “I’m just looking for firewood. Unless you’d rather eat a cold dinner and freeze tonight.”

She mumbled something and went back to rubbing his mare.

“What?”

Lane looked back up. “I said, I’m sorry. I’m not really mad at you, I’m mad at Mom for assigning a sorcerer as my bodyguard. She knows I don’t like being around people like you.”

Damien chuckled and kicked through the snow, looking for fallen branches. He picked up a few and when he straightened Lane stood three feet away, hands on hips. “What’s so damn funny?”

“You. You and everyone else. They all want to define me by my soul force. Dad’s disappointed because I’m a sorcerer and not a warlord. Most of the other sorcerers don’t want anything to do with me because of how dense my soul force is. And it’s the only reason your mother took me on as an apprentice, despite knowing nothing else about me. There’s more to me than my power, you know.”

Now it was Lane’s turn to laugh. “I have the exact opposite problem. People judge me by my lack of power. My whole life I’ve been held up to the example of my mother and been found wanting. Now you come along. Yeah, I know all about the demon and the dragon and every other thing you’ve done in your short career. You’re everything I was meant to be.”

Damien collected some more sticks. “Don’t be jealous of my power. All it does is separate me from everyone. Aside from my sister and a few friends, no one will look at me as anything but a threat or tool. If that’s the life you’re pining for you’re welcome to it.”

J
en strode
down the hall toward her father’s office in The Citadel, the hard soles of her boots tapping on the stone floor. He’d summoned her earlier and she hoped he had a new mission planned for her and her squad. The war had ended after Damien blasted that dragon and while the feast and all the compliments had been nice, she wanted to get back out in the field. Maybe he’d send them out to hunt down some stray ogres, that would be a good workout.

She reached back and brushed the hilt of her new sword where it jutted up over her shoulder. It still felt warm from the remnants of her brother’s soul force. She shook her head. Some of the things Damien had done boggled her mind, and crafting the sword was the least of them. Her little brother had grown strong. Jen went back and forth between pride in all that he’d accomplished and sadness that he no longer seemed to need her.

The cadets were all in class or outside training and the empty halls agreed with Jen. It seemed like she couldn’t take a step out of her room without attracting stares. The boys had always stared, of course, she’d made peace with that years ago. But since the war, the stares had a different quality. The desire was still there, but now there was a little awe and fear mixed in. She didn’t really understand it since her brother had done most of the extraordinary stuff, but she’d been there and survived, so maybe that was enough. Damien told her how people at The Tower avoided him after the demon incident and she wondered if she was going through something similar. Whatever it was she’d be glad to get out of The Citadel for a while.

Her father’s office door had a golden shield nailed to it, a replica of the badge of office he wore pinned to his uniform. She knocked and pushed the door open. The spartan room matched Dad’s personality. He sat at a simple oak desk in a hard, straight-backed chair. A stand for the demon sword—she’d never gotten comfortable with Damien calling it by its nickname—rested at his right hand. She knew Dad could have the blade out and at a person’s throat faster than she could blink. A three-shelf bookcase filled with military manuals along with a pair of chairs for guests completed the furnishings.

Jen ignored the two empty chairs in front of the desk and stood with her hands clasped behind her back. “Reporting as ordered, sir.”

Dad looked up for the first time. “Jennifer, sit down. I have your next mission.”

Eager now, Jen slid into the left-hand chair. “Yes, sir.”

He steepled his fingers and looked at her through the gaps. “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. Unfortunately a number of people know already, but I’d just as soon not spread the information any faster than necessary. An attempt was made on the king’s life two days ago.”

Jen’s breath caught in her throat.

“Andy’s fine,” her father hastened to add. “Your brother was there and he captured the assassin. The report I received says he saved a lot of lives. If they didn’t want to keep it quiet I suspect he’d be up for another medal.”

Jen caught the barest hint of pride in her father’s voice. Maybe he and Damien would finally become a little closer. “That’s a relief. Do you want my squad to track down whoever hired him?”

“Her, not him, and no, I don’t. The interrogators persuaded the assassin to talk. They know who hired her. Your brother’s looking into that end.”

Jen frowned. If Dad didn’t want them to track down whoever hired the killer, what was their mission?

“Are you familiar with a merchant prince named Dominic Santen?”

“Of course, anyone that’s spent any time in Port Valcane knows the Santen family. They own a third of all the businesses in the city and rumor is they control another third indirectly. Why?”

Dad drummed his fingers together. “The assassin used an illusion of Dominic Santen to sneak into the throne room and now, according to the Valcane watch, Dominic is missing. Your job is to find him and determine if he’s collaborating with the assassin or if he’s a victim.”

“Why us? The Valcane watch is competent, never mind that their captain is a pig. Surely they can track down a missing merchant.”

Dad nodded. “I’m sure they could. The problem is we have no idea how many of them have divided loyalties. Since the Santen family controls so much of the city we can assume they have more than a few watchmen in their pockets.”

“And if they’re working with whoever hired the assassin we can’t count on the watch’s loyalty.” Jen saw it clearly now. “I understand. It’ll take us a month to ride to the coast.”

“No, it won’t. You remember Master Shen?”

Jen nodded. The good-natured sorcerer had taught her class the basics of surviving an encounter with a sorcerer. Run the other way as fast as you can.

“Master Shen will fly your team to the city then remain there in case you need sorcerous backup. The assassin they hired was a sorcerer after all. Questions?”

“No, sir.” Jen stood. “Dead or alive, we’ll find him.”

Dad nodded. “Be careful. I have no idea what sort of mess you’re walking into.”

T
he wind streamed
through Jen’s hair when she leaned over the side of the golden chariot. Her heart raced and she couldn’t stop smiling. She’d never flown before and the sensation exhilarated her.

Below them the sprawling expanse of Port Valcane squatted in the dying sunlight. The oldest city in the kingdom, Port Valcane was the first village the settlers carved out of the wilderness when they arrived from the Old Empire. It had grown a thousand times since then, and now covered a mile north to south and three-quarters of a mile east to west.

She’d gotten to know the city well in her year there, from the stink of the fish market to the perfume of the merchant villas. Jen preferred the fish. At least they weren’t apt to bite you. Most of the merchants she’d met would put a dirk in your kidney for an extra copper.

Jen’s good mood dimmed a little when she considered what awaited her down there. Her former commander, Watch Captain Tosh, expected them to report in the moment they landed. A competent administrator, Captain Tosh had a bad habit of touching his female subordinates. If he laid a hand on her this time she’d knock his teeth down the back of his throat. She was visiting the city as an independent investigator for the crown and he had no authority over her. Of course, he could make her job a lot harder if he ordered his watchmen not to cooperate.

A groan pulled her mind back to the present. Edward slumped against the side of the chariot, his skin a sickly green. They hadn’t flown out of sight of The Citadel before he’d thrown up over the side. To say flying didn’t agree with him would be putting it mildly. She knew people got sick on boats, but she’d never heard of anyone getting sick while flying. In Edward’s defense, the only other person she knew that had flown before was Damien, and nothing much bothered him.

She patted her subordinate on the shoulder. “Just a few more minutes.”

“Yeah, after we check in we should get something to eat.” Alec grinned. Like Jen he seemed to have enjoyed the flight. “I hear good things about the fish stew.”

Edward scrambled to get his head over the side of the chariot before he gagged. Rhys and Talon laughed.

Jen shook her head and frowned at Alec. He winked back. She turned away so he wouldn’t notice her smile. The youngest member of her team had a crush on her and she didn’t want to do anything to encourage him. Romance between teammates never ended well and once in a while it ended with someone dead. If she could help it, no one in her command would die.

The chariot descended toward the city. From the front Master Shen said, “You enjoyed the flight. You and your brother have the same smile.”

She left Edward to his gagging and moved up beside the dark-haired sorcerer. “It’s wonderful.”

Edward let out an especially loud gag.

“I enjoyed it anyway. I can’t speak for everyone.”

Master Shen laughed. “I know a couple sorcerers who don’t like to fly, though neither of them so loudly as your man. It’s not for everyone.”

He reached into an inside pocket of his gray cloak and pulled out a six-inch stick of pale, polished wood. She took it and found it warm in her hand. “What’s this?”

“It’s a call stick. I infused enough of my soul force into it to last a week. Just break it if you need me and I’ll come as fast as I can. If the investigation takes more than a week we’ll need to meet up so I can reenergize it.”

Jen slipped the stick into the pouch on her belt. “I assumed you’d be working with us.”

Master Shen shook his head. “Sorcerers make people nervous. You’ll have better luck on your own. I have a task of my own, straight from the archmage no less.”

He offered no details so Jen assumed he had orders to keep them to himself. That didn’t bother her. She had things of her own she couldn’t talk about. “Do you want to plan a spot to meet in six days to compare notes and recharge the call stick?”

“Good idea. Are you familiar with The Mermaid?”

“Sure, everybody knows The Mermaid. They have the cheapest drinks and best food in the city. Not exactly a private place for a meeting.”

“On the contrary, it’s a perfect place for a meeting. The crown owns the tavern. We have a sorcerer on duty at all times, listening in to the gossip. You’d be amazed what you can learn if you just listen. When you arrive, ask the barman for the capital suite. He’ll give you a key and walk away. Go to the third floor and turn right, it’s the last door on the left. If I’m not there when you arrive, I will be shortly.”

Jen tried not to stare and failed. She’d worked in the city for a full year and had no idea the government owned The Mermaid. “Does Captain Tosh know about this?”

“No one in the city government knows.” Master Shen turned to face her, his usually smiling face serious. “The city government doesn’t always have the capital’s best interest at heart. Don’t mention the tavern to anyone. You never know who might be listening.”

Jen stepped back to let Master Shen concentrate on landing the chariot. What had seemed a simple mission now looked a good deal more complicated.

C
aptain Tosh’s
office looked just the same as Jen remembered it. A huge mahogany desk covered with curlicue inlays filled with gold dominated the center of the room, a single chair for guests in front of it which she ignored, preferring to stand with her men. A bookcase filled each corner, curios rather than books covering the shelves. The captain had never been one for study. He always claimed he read enough reports over the course of the day that the last thing he wanted to do was read books in his spare time. Behind the desk a window looked out over the glittering city.

The sun had set just as Master Shen landed the chariot, and now glow lamps twinkled on every street corner. Captain Tosh’s office sat on the top floor in the northeast corner of watch headquarters. It took up a quarter of the floor all by itself, though she couldn’t pin that one on him. The office hadn’t changed in two hundred years.

Behind the garish desk Captain Tosh reclined in a soft leather chair and looked at them through half-closed eyes. A short, barrel-chested man, with an oiled goatee and polished fingernails, the captain considered himself the angels’ gift to women. Whether the women agreed or not concerned him little.

He leaned forward and smiled. “I can’t tell you what a pleasant surprise it was to hear my favorite former subordinate was leading the investigation into Dominic’s disappearance. Jennifer, you’re looking as beautiful as ever.”

Tosh’s oily grin turned Jen’s stomach in a way the flight hadn’t. The less time she had to spend in the pig’s presence the better for both of them. “Have you made the arrangements for us to speak with the family?”

He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Always right to business with you. Same old Jennifer. The family has agreed to see you at ten tomorrow morning. Dominic’s widow…ahem…wife, have to stay optimistic, is too distraught to talk, but the eldest son, Mikhail, has agreed to meet with you.”

Good of him considering they had a royal charter to investigate this matter that gave them the authority to go anywhere and talk to anyone they wanted, whenever they wanted. “I appreciate that. I won’t take up any more of their time than necessary.”

“Go easy, Jennifer. The boy’s lost a father after all. I trust you’ll keep me informed of anything you discover.”

Jen nodded, intending to tell him as little as possible. “As time permits. I assume you’ll inform your men to provide whatever help we need.”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with their duties. I still have a city to keep safe.”

So, they understood each other. Jen would offer him as little information as she could and he would offer her as little help as he could. She and her squad were basically on their own, which she’d expected.

“Best of luck with your investigation, Jennifer.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Jen led her team out of Tosh’s office, into the hall, and past his assistant, a pretty blond girl about half Tosh’s age. How many bruises did she have from the captain’s pinches? They left the bored girl behind and headed toward the stairwell.

“Talk about sleazy,” Talon said.

Jen held a finger to her lips. They needed to stay quiet until they left headquarters. They arrived on the first floor and, luckily for them, avoided the main processing area where the watch brought in criminals, handled interrogations, and basically took care of business. A back door by the staircase led to the street. Jen took a deep breath of cool night air.

“Can we talk now?” Alec asked.

“No.” Jen turned north toward their inn. She wouldn’t feel comfortable until they had locked the doors behind them and checked for spies.