Unguilded (41 page)

And the others! How they’d fawned over Rorik. But she hadn’t—she’d acted as his equal, his collaborator in the search for justice for Valerio, someone strong who he could count on.

A few of them had understood—two had even been solicitous of her—because they knew what she knew. At this moment she was Rorik’s choice for Secundus. All she had to do was have him formally select her.

She rose and let the water sluice off her, and grabbed the cloth that hung beside the tub.

Once dry, she padded into her bedchamber and threw open her closet.

What to wear . . . not black. She wasn’t in mourning—at least not officially. Ah—there. Purple—a powerful colour—a strong colour.

A few minutes later, she headed down to the corridors that crisscrossed the island.

The halls were busy—Servers and Mages hurrying to complete their tasks before the formal ceremony to mark the passing of the Secundus.

Arabella strolled, taking her time. Rorik had promised that the ceremony would not start until she was ready. She breathed in a deep breath. They were waiting on her—they were
all
waiting on
her
.

She knocked at the door to Rorik’s estate, and a Server opened it.

“The Primus is in his salon,” he said and bowed. Arabella followed him up a set of stairs to an open set of double doors. Quiet voices—male voices—drifted out into the hall.

“Master Mage Fonti,” the Server announced before stepping out of the way.

Rorik hurried to her side. “My dear, we didn’t expect to see you so soon, I trust you are rested?”

“Primus, I am refreshed, but I could not sleep. There is so much to do, and I wish to help.”

“Yes, of course,” Rorik said. “Your help will be greatly appreciated. Inigo has also offered his help.”

Arabella looked past Rorik and met Inigo’s gaze. As a council Mage, he had been fully bound to Valerio. She smiled wanly.

“How kind of you,” she said. She stepped past Rorik and sat down on the settee beside Inigo. Was he maneuvering for Secundus? He wasn’t simply offering to help—no one in this room believed
any
of them were here for that, despite what they said.

“We are all shocked at Valerio Valendi’s sudden death,” Inigo said. “It must be doubly wretched for you. You were very close to him, I hear.”

“Yes.” She patted her belly, and Inigo’s eyes widened. In a few hours, the whole council would know she was carrying Valerio’s child. “As was Rorik.”

“Yes,” Rorik agreed. “In the past few months, we three became a good team.”

“And now we are two,” Arabella said sadly. “But we must set aside our grief for the good of the guild.”

“Are you sure you are well enough to do this?” Rorik asked her.

“I have to be—I have no choice.” Arabella folded her hands in her lap. “And being active will keep me from dwelling on my loss.”

“All of Mage Guild mourns the loss of Valerio Valendi,” Inigo said.

“Of course,” Arabella replied. “I did not mean to imply that my loss was greater than yours.”

“But it is,” Rorik interjected. “You’ve lost not only a friend and mentor, but the father of your child.” He clasped her shoulder briefly before stepping away.

“Inigo,” Rorik said. “While I appreciate your offer, I do think that Arabella and I can handle any tasks still to be done.”

“Of course, Primus,” Inigo said. “I will leave you to them.”

Arabella nodded as Inigo made his farewells. As he left the study he glanced over at her—his face was blank, but there was fury in his eyes. She ducked her head to hide her smile. Had Inigo petitioned Rorik to become Secundus? He had been Valerio’s ally—had he really expected that to be enough to secure the position? He had underestimated her, but she doubted he would make that mistake again. Once Rorik named her Secundus, she would have to be careful. It seemed she had made an enemy.

“Shall I order something to eat?” Rorik asked when he returned.

“Something light would be nice,” she replied. “I fatigue so quickly these days and now with . . .” She let her voice trail off. In truth she had more energy now that Valerio was dead—but Rorik would never know that.

He called his Server, and she smiled, trying to portray a sense of gratitude.

“Thank you. I do not know what I would do without such a good friend.” She paused as Rorik sat down beside her. “But I worry about my child,” she said. “Mine and Valerio’s child.”

“That is natural,” Rorik replied. “A mother is always concerned about her children. How can I help?”

“I feel vulnerable, exposed politically. I will have some protection since I am on the council, but I fear that Valerio’s enemies will harm our child. You know what happens to the offspring of dead Mages.” It wasn’t an idle worry—even now Valerio’s children were probably being eliminated. No one wanted children with potential to grow up and exact revenge on their parent’s enemies.

“I do.” Rorik’s face darkened. “It’s a horrendous practice.” He clasped her hands in his. “Again, how can I help?”

“Make me Secundus. Not for me, but for my child. No one will dare touch him if I am Secundus to your Primus.”

Rorik dropped her hands and leaned back. “What will you give me in return?”

Arabella dropped her eyes. Based on Rorik’s response, Inigo
had
been lobbying to be appointed Secundus. “I will give you what I have always given you,” she said. “Loyalty, friendship, and someone you can trust.”

“Can I trust you?”

“Yes. You know my secrets.”

“Ah yes, the daughter and the Assassin.” He paused. “I’ll do it. Gyda knows I can’t trust any of the others. I will make you Secundus—but only if you tell me what really happened.”

“It’s all true,” she said, meeting his eyes. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone—but somehow Rorik suspected. And becoming Secundus was worth anything, including this last secret. “Except I did not see them drown. They were picked up by a Seyoyan vessel, which makes me suspect that Warrior Guild is behind this.”

“Warrior Guild!” Rorik exclaimed. “If they were responsible for the death of a Mage Guild Secundus, they will pay dearly.”

“Once I am Secundus, I can help,” Arabella said.

“Yes. I will make the announcement today and arrange the official appointment as soon as possible.”

He left her just as her meal arrived. Arabella picked up a fork and speared some salad. She’d known that Rorik disliked Warrior Guild—that was why she’d blamed them—but she hadn’t realized how much he hated them. He’d been so focused on them that he hadn’t even asked her why she’d lied to the council. If she could keep Rorik focused on Warrior Guild, she could manage the council.

“KARA, WAKE UP.”

Her arm was being prodded, but she was too tired to open her eyes. She sighed and burrowed deeper against the warmth.

“Kara.”

That voice again. She frowned. Couldn’t they leave her alone?

“Kara.”

She opened her eyes. She was pressed against Reo and she edged away from him. Nervously she looked at him—
what must he think of her, sleeping curled up against him?
He met her gaze with a tenderness that made her heart falter.

“We need to get moving.” He eased his arm out from between her back and the wall and stretched.

Kara smoothed her green shirt down over her ill-fitting trousers and stood up. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and certainly not in Reo’s arms, but she’d been warm, finally, and she’d felt safe. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He smiled at her shyly, and she smiled back.

“Are we leaving the ship?” she asked.

“Yes,” Reo replied. “Javan came by a few minutes ago. We’re off the coast of Old Rillidi. Just a little north of the old docks where I found those two boys you knew.”

“Harb and Lowel,” Kara said with a nod. “We’re close to Santos’ estate. How long was I asleep?” What she wanted to know was how long he’d let her nestle against him.

“A few hours—it’s around midnight. There’s enough moonlight to let us find our way.”

Reo stood up, and suddenly she felt crowded in the little cabin. She moved towards the door. There was a sharp knock, and she jumped.

“We’re ready,” someone called softly in Seyoyan.

Kara followed Reo out into the narrow hallway. A single lamp hung from a wooden beam, the flame sputtering as it swung. She hadn’t noticed the rocking of the ship, but now she had to steady herself by trailing a hand along each wall of the passageway. She climbed a short flight of stairs to the deck where a salty breeze whipped her hair around her face.

Reo leaned in. “Come,” he whispered, taking hold of her arm and steering her towards one side of the ship.

A Seyoyan scrambled over the railing and disappeared from view. Another one waved her forward. Kara took two unsteady steps and grabbed a thick rope that trailed over the side. A rope ladder led down to a dory that bobbed in the moonlight. She slipped over the edge and stepped down two rungs—then hands reached for her, gently guiding her into the prow of the boat. Soon Reo huddled beside her, and two Seyoyans rowed them away from the ship.

She peered forward—the shore was faintly outlined in mage mist. Light green—Santos’ colour.

“Santos has a spell in place,” Kara said softly to Reo.

“Do you know what it does?” he asked.

Kara shook her head. “No.” She turned to the rowers. “We need to stop here,” she said in Seyoyan.

The Seyoyans looked at her before digging their oars in the water—the dory lurched and slowed. Water slapped against the wooden sides of the boat, and a cool wind blew them towards the mage mist that swirled a few feet away.

“We need something to throw.” She stared at the mage mist. “I can get us through it, but it I would like to know what kind of spell it is.” She paused. “Whether it just keeps intruders away or is something more dangerous.”

Reo leaned over and grabbed a rope that was coiled in the bottom of the boat. A knife flashed in his hands, and he handed her a six inch length of rope.

“Do you think they’ve been attacked?” he asked her quietly.

Kara took the rope. “I hope not. That would mean my mother and Mage Guild know I lived here.” And
that
would mean she’d put her friends at risk.

She leaned out over the prow and tossed the rope through the mage mist—it arced halfway through the green and then it disappeared. She heard a splash behind them.

“It’s a relocation spell,” she said, relieved. “It’s a basic spell to keep anyone from landing here. It probably pushes them out into the bay. I’ll make it go around us.”

“Is it to defend against attack?” Reo asked.

“No.” She focused on the mage mist. “Santos can create this type of spell in his sleep.” She glanced at Reo. “If they were attacked I’d expect something stronger than this—something more damaging.” She looked at the Seyoyans. “We can land,” she said to the Seyoyans.

The boat moved forward, and the mist parted to let them through. She still didn’t like that there was a spell. Why had Santos cast it?

“You’re worried,” Reo said.

“Yes,” Kara replied. “Santos didn’t want anyone to know that he was sane and capable of magic again.”

Reo nodded. “That spell reveals that there’s a practicing Mage close.”

The boat slowed as it got close to the rocky shore. One of the Seyoyans crept past them to the prow and scrambled over the side with the rope in his hand. Half walking, half swimming, he towed them until a rock scraped against the bottom of the boat.

Reo stepped out first, motioning for Kara to stay back.

“They might know someone is here,” he said. “I’ll take a look.” He waded towards shore, the moon glinting off the ripples he made in the water.

Kara gazed out to sea. The mage mist swirled unbroken just off the coast. The only thing that comforted her was the knowledge that it was Santos Nimali’s spell. What had changed that he felt the need to safeguard his estate? She looked in the direction of the buildings—the damaged estate and the small cabin she’d felt so at home in. Even though the trees were mostly bare she was still too far away to see any lights.

“Clear,” Reo called in a hushed voice.

A Seyoyan helped her step out of the boat. Her foot slipped on a wet rock as she scrambled up to Reo. Absently he pulled her close.

“Any magic?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Good. I’ll have the men wait for me. Hopefully Santos will help, and I can leave before dawn.”

Reo turned to talk to the crew, and Kara stared into the dark woods. A few months ago it had been her home, but now, with mage mist hugging the shore, the island felt foreign. Would they want her back? Had she become so different that she’d no longer fit in? She’d killed a man—a Mage—was she too dangerous to live here now? It had been her safe haven once—she wanted,
needed
, it to be that again.

Reo touched her arm and nodded. She took the hand he offered and followed him into the woods. A few minutes later they emerged from the trees into a small clearing.