Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 02 (22 page)

I
resisted the urge to slink down farther into the water. I didn’t know if
Nukpana had continuous contact with me, or just got the information once he’d
infested my dream. Either way it had to stop.

“What
do you know about the students?” I asked.

“I
have retained Banan Ryce’s unique services from time to time. He is most
proficient at his craft, but he does have his weaknesses, most notably blondes.
I prefer redheads.”

“One
of your shamans apparently still has Banan’s business card.”

“My
people are not responsible for Banan Ryce or your missing students.” The
goblin’s smile held secrets he had no intention of sharing. “You’ll have to look
among your own people for that. As to Darshan’s rather clumsy attempt against
you last night, Primaru Nathrach gave him precisely what he deserved.” Sarad
Nukpana nodded in grudging approval. “It was exceptionally well done. Darshan
was an impulsive idiot. Now he’s a dead one.”

“So
Darshan screwed up your orders?”

“That
fiasco was on no order of mine.” Nukpana’s smile was slow and full of intent.
“I have you exactly where I want you—as did Primaru Nathrach in that alley. You
let a rare opportunity slip through your fingers, little seeker. It’s not often
that an elf has a chance to taste goblin black magic.” His dark eyes lingered
where my bubbles weren’t. “No doubt Primaru Nathrach found you utterly
delectable.

You
glisten with the Saghred’s power. He keeps you at a distance because if you get
within arm’s reach again, he
will
take you. He will not be able to stop
himself.” Nukpana laughed softly. “Once a dark mage, always a dark mage.”

I was
sure there could be worse circumstances I could be in, but being naked in a tub
with an evil megalomaniac sitting next to me definitely warranted an honorable
mention. Too bad I hadn’t used bath oil instead of bubbles. At least Sarad
Nukpana wouldn’t be able to get a grip on me should he decide to try.

He
was using Tam to bait me. I wasn’t going to bite. “So the Mal’Salins set their
Khrynsani lapdogs on me?”

“The
Mal’Salin family controls the Khrynsani in name only. Their master is the one
who has come to reclaim what your father stole from him.” Nukpana dropped my
towel and picked up Muralin’s journal. “I always found his writing style to be
rather pompous, though the content is entertaining enough. Old Goblin is hardly
light reading suitable for the bath, little seeker.”

Tam
had lied. His family wasn’t running the Khrynsani show. Rudra Muralin was. Or
maybe no one had told the Mal’Salins that their attack dogs were answering to
someone else’s whistle. Who knew what kind of tangled knot Tam had gotten
himself tied up in. Goblins lived for intrigue, deception, betrayal, and all
the backstabbing that went with it.

Nukpana
leaned back in his chair. “I wish you luck finding Rudra Muralin. He was
nineteen years old when he fell into the Great Rift. Mid is teeming with
college students, many of them goblin.” Nukpana’s expression grew thoughtful.
“What
is
that quaint expression involving a needle and a haystack?
Perhaps while Grand Shaman Muralin is here he can hear my favorite nightingale
sing.” He smiled. “Who knows? Perhaps he already has.”

Nukpana
referred to Piaras as a nightingale. Piaras didn’t like it, and neither did I.

“Stay
away from him,” I growled.

The
goblin raised his hands defensively. “It’s Rudra Muralin you should be
threatening, little seeker—but first you have to find him. Piaras’s skill is
astonishing for such a young age. And the way he sang us all to sleep—the
Saghred hasn’t received such a treat in years. Those with the sweetest magic
are the most delicious. Is he being properly trained?”

I
didn’t answer.

“I’ll
take that as a yes. And considering his skill level, Ronan Cayle would be his
voice master. I know of a master more suitable to develop his unique talent.”
Nukpana smiled slowly. “Maestro Cayle should take care; he could soon find
himself with competition.”

I sat
up in the tub, sloshing water over the side. My remaining bubbles parted and I
didn’t give a damn. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” My tone told him
in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t answer, I was out of that tub with my
hands around his throat, buck naked or not.

“If I
told you, it would spoil the surprise.” He leaned forward. “And I can guarantee
that you will be very surprised.” His black eyes shone in the half-light. “Was
that response evasive enough to make you come out of the tub after me? I would
enjoy that very much.”

I sat
back, this time intentionally sloshing water over the side and soaking
Nukpana’s feet. “Live with disappointment,” I said with calm I didn’t feel.

The
goblin was staring in the direction of my bedroom door. I heard a distant
pounding. Something or someone was trying to get in. Nukpana started to fade.

“Enjoy
your freedom, little seeker. You will not have it for long.”

I
woke up. I was shivering and my teeth were chattering. My wa
ter was ice-cold.

The
pounding was someone kicking in my door. Then the kicking stopped and I felt a
massive surge of power.

Dammit.
I jumped out of the tub and ran to get a dagger. Then I faced the door, braced
and ready for whatever was coming through it. I shivered and realized I was
standing in a puddle of water, dripping wet, and I was
still naked.
I
swore again and scurried back for my towel.

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.