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Authors: Lynn Flewelling

BOOK: Shards of Time
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“The Hierophants built their monuments and palaces to last the ages,” said Zella.

“What about the person who claimed to have seen a spirit?” asked Alec.

“Poor Corporal Karis,” Zella replied. “He’s downstairs in the cells.”

“Cells?” Klia asked.

“It was the only way, Highness. At first I gave him a room, but he tried to leave Deep Harbor twice before we finally locked him up.”

“I shall speak with him in the morning.”

“As you wish, Highness. I thought tonight you’d like to go over the late governor’s papers. He had the whole area mapped. I’ve laid the pertinent documents out in the library. It’s just down the corridor from your room, together with the artifacts I mentioned.”

“Yes,” said Klia. “But what about the reports of people going missing since Toneus’s death?”

“Rumors!” scoffed Hasen.

“I wish that were so,” said Zella, “but I’m afraid those are true. Upward of a score of people have vanished around Menosi—workmen, soldiers, shepherds, and travelers—though it’s not known for certain what happened to them. You see, that’s why the workmen fled, and the soldiers are only there because they’re ordered to be. It’s thought that some of them simply ran away out of fear and are hiding in the hills somewhere. That’s all I know, but you can speak with the officers in charge when we get there.”

“If you will kindly excuse us, Highness, it’s time we were getting home,” said Hasen, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. “And I must say, this has always been a haunted island. I’ve seen a few strange things in my day, I admit, but nothing that ever hurt a living person. This business with Toneus is horrible, and I have no explanation for it, but don’t limit yourself to thinking spirits did it.”

Klia smiled. “Thank you, Mayor. I’ll keep an open mind.”

The antechamber of the library had been turned into a sort of museum. The room was lined with shelves on which a
diverse collection of oddments was on display. There were corroded buckles that might have once adorned a harness, the rusted remains of knives and swords, clay buttons, bits of painted pottery, small statues, and pieces of carved stone. Beautifully worked bits of gold jewelry lay in velvet-lined boxes. Earrings shaped like stylized leaves lay next to a circular brooch made in the shape of a snake biting its own tail. Other brooches and pendants were more stylized designs, including many spirals.

“This all came from the palace?” asked Klia as she perused the collection with interest.

“From there and the city. And these bits were found at the back of the oracle’s cave.” Zella led her to a shelf near the library door. There were bits of colorful dripstone, some like melted wax, others in the shapes of striped daggers or delicate straws. “The inmost chamber, the third, lies below two others. There are ancient paintings on the walls, dripstone formations, and many of these.” She pointed to a line of tiny votive figures in the shapes of horses, birds, arrow points, and serpents. Most were made of clay, but there were a few fashioned from copper, green and pitted with age. In the center stood a box made of polished burl wood, six inches square, with a bronze lock plate.

“The excavators found most of these, though the archduke punished those caught looting the caves. There may have been more things of value that were smuggled out before Toneus realized they were doing it. There is still something quite surprising there, but I’ll let you discover that for yourselves. The city and palace were looted ages ago. Most anything of real value has been carried off. Except this.” Zella drew a small key on a chain from the neck of her dress and unlocked the square box. Lifting the lid, she showed them a woman’s golden arm ring covered in delicate tracery. It was slightly bent, and scratched in a few places, but it was still beautiful.

“That’s a pretty piece of work,” Micum remarked.

“It should be,” said Seregil. “It’s Aurënfaie, and quite old.”

“That’s what Toneus said,” Zella told him. “He thought it
must have been a gift to one of the Hierophants from an Aurënfaie lord.”

“Where was this found?” asked Klia.

“One of the workmen brought it to Toneus, who rewarded him for it. It was found in the innermost cave, caught in the dripstone. You can still see bits of it in the carving.”

“May I?” asked Seregil.

“Trust Baron Seregil to get sidetracked by something shiny,” Thero murmured with a sidelong look at Micum, who chuckled.

Zella held out the box and Seregil picked up the arm ring. It was thicker than he expected, and weighed nicely in the hand. “Yes, definitely made in Aurënen, or copied from something that was. From the weight of it, it’s a solid piece. There’s just nothing quite like the feel of solid gold. A pity about the damage. That’s recent. The man who found it must have chipped it out of the stone formations.” He placed it back in the box and turned to find Alec inspecting the remains of a dagger.

“How old do you think this is?” the younger man asked.

Seregil shook his head. “There’s not enough of the design left to tell. But from the looks of it, very, very old.”

“A most interesting collection,” said Klia. “But now the papers, I think.”

“Of course, Highness.”

Zella was nothing if not efficient, Seregil thought as they entered the spacious library. A long table held neatly arranged maps, ledgers, and stacks of documents.

“How far away is Menosi?” asked Alec as they began with the maps.

“About ten miles—seven beyond Mirror Moon, which lies on the way,” Zella replied. “The governor had the road improved, as it was little more than a grassed-over cow path. He excavated the original stone road and repaired it. The Plenimarans did the same with many of the old roads, particularly the ones leading into the hills where the mines are. This map here is a survey of the island, and this is one of the old city. He died before it was completed, and the builders have refused to go back there since—” She paused, and Seregil was
certain he heard a catch in her throat as she finished, “Since the deaths.”

“And where were the duke and his companion killed?” asked Thero.

Zella unrolled a detailed map of the restored palace and pointed to a room that lay roughly at the center. “It was here, in the suite of rooms he believed to have belonged to the Hierophants. The palace restoration was almost complete and he wanted to spend a few days there, overseeing some of the interior details.”

She blinked, and Seregil saw tears glittering along her lower lashes. That, and the way she spoke of the man suggested she’d been very devoted to her employer—or more than devoted, perhaps.

“And the oracle’s shrine?” asked Klia.

“Here, Highness.” Zella showed her a small square marked to the east of the ancient city. “It’s just a short walk away.”

“Who found the governor and his lady?” asked Seregil.

“Two officers making their rounds.”

“One missing and one mad, I believe?”

“Captain Sedge went mad at the sight and the other, a young lieutenant named Phania, disappeared that night. She was one of our bravest officers.”

“Where is the madhouse?” asked Thero.

“Near the quays,” Zella replied. “We passed it on our way up from the harbor.”

“I’ll speak with him tonight,” said Thero.

“As you wish, my lord, though I doubt you’ll get much sense out of him. Neither the physician nor the governor’s healer could help him.”

“There’s a healer here?” asked Seregil.

“There was. He died of a fever soon after the governor was killed. Since then we’ve had only Doctor Kordira.”

Seregil exchanged a look with Thero. “That’s very convenient.”

“All the same, I’ll try my luck,” Thero told Zella.

“I’ll arrange a guide.” She turned to Klia. “Your Highness, perhaps an encampment outside the city would be more comfortable when you go to Menosi, rather than staying in
the city itself, or going back and forth? It will take a few days to arrange.”

“Please see to that, Lady Zella,” said Klia. “I’ll only be there a few days, but others of my party may stay on for some time. In the meantime, you can acquaint me with the business of the island and show me Deep Harbor.”

“Of course, Highness.” Zella paused. “If you desire it, I could serve as your secretary, as I did for the former governor.”

“I accept your service, my lady. You will be my guide at Menosi, and act as my liaison with the locals.”

“Of course, Highness.”

“One last thing, Lady Zella,” Seregil said as they rose to go. “The Aurënfaie former slaves in the crowd at the quayside—what is their status, now that their masters are gone?”

“They’re free, of course, but many of them have stayed on at the estates where they were owned, having nowhere else to go. Others were cast out and abandoned. Governor Toneus offered to arrange passage back to Aurënen, but none went.”

Pain constricted around Seregil’s heart. Of course they wouldn’t. “And the ones owned by islanders?”

“It’s my understanding that as soon as the Skalans came to reclaim the island, the owners released them and many sent them away to fend for themselves so as to cover the fact that they’d held slaves. Some of the dispossessed ones have taken shelter here at the villa.”

“I see. Would it be possible to put the word out that I would welcome any ’faie who wishes to come live at Mirror Moon? I’d like to provide for them.”

“Of course, my lord. How generous of you. No doubt you’ll want to see your estate tomorrow.”

“Yes,” said Alec. “If that’s acceptable to you, Klia?”

“Of course. We’ll meet you there in two days’ time, since it’s on the way.”

“Very good, Highness,” said Zella. “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

Klia stifled a yawn. “No, you’ve been most helpful. Good night.”

Klia’s spacious chamber was richly appointed, with tall windows overlooking the harbor. A mist was rising, and gauzy tendrils curled against the thick panes.

The heavy black oak furniture was of an age with that in Alec’s room, but here featured stylized dolphins and birds rather than monsters. A door led to an adjoining chamber on the left. A spacious fieldstone fireplace was set into the wall across the room, with a small couch, several armchairs, and wine tables arranged around the hearth. A fire had been laid and Thero lit it with a casual snap of his fingers while Alec went to the sideboard and poured wine into the crystal goblets arranged there.

Klia settled on the couch and held out a hand for the wizard to join her. For all his resistance to teasing from Seregil, he looked remarkably at ease as he sat down at his lover’s side and rested his arm along the back of the couch behind her.

Leaning into the circle of his arm, Klia accepted a glass of wine from Alec. Seregil and Micum took the remaining chairs, so Alec settled on the hearthrug, leaning back against Seregil’s legs.

Klia rubbed the back of her neck and yawned. “So, thoughts?”

“I think Zella was in love with Toneus,” said Alec.

“Or at least thought a great deal of him,” Seregil agreed.

“She doesn’t strike me as the type to murder anyone, especially not the man she loved,” said Micum.

Seregil shrugged. “You never know. Love can make people do some pretty strange things.”

“But how would she manage it in a room locked from the inside?” Klia wondered. “Thero, did you sense any magic on her?”

“No.”

“I don’t suppose you took a peek inside her thoughts?” asked Seregil.

Thero frowned and set his glass aside on the ornate table by his elbow. “One doesn’t do that lightly, Seregil. If you come up with any serious evidence against her, I will, but not before.”

“I think that’s best,” said Klia.

“She did seem decidedly uncomfortable at the idea of you staying in the old palace,” Alec noted.

“Considering what happened to the last occupants, it’s hardly surprising.”

“I’m more interested in the disappearances since the governor’s death,” said Micum. “It could be that whatever killed him and his lady is still at work there. I can’t help but wonder what sort of a mess we’re about to wander into.”

“I hope to shed some light on that,” said Thero. “Until we know what we’re dealing with, we need to be very careful.”

Micum yawned. “Shall we get an early start tomorrow, Seregil? I want to see this holding of yours.”

“It depends on how late our madman keeps us tonight. Shall we, Thero?”

“I’ll go with you,” said Alec, climbing to his feet as Seregil rose.

“I think it best if just Seregil comes,” Thero told him. “We don’t want to overwhelm him with visitors.”

“We won’t be long,” Seregil promised, hoping to smooth over Alec’s disappointment. “I’ll tell you everything when I get back.”

G
UIDED
by a manservant and a linkboy, Seregil and Thero rode under a clear, starry sky to a grim-looking building that stood between one of the foundries and the docks. It was windowless and built of dressed stone. The front door was black, with the Eye of Illior freshly painted in white over a small grate. Orange light showed through the bars.

The servant had to pound on the door for some time before a warder answered. The man was huge, tall and wide and a solid wall of muscle, Seregil judged. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of being at this fellow’s mercy.

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