Wedding Bells, Magic Spells (7 page)

Right now, that statement was less fashion and more ick.

What looked like blue dust had mixed with yellow slime, resulting in green foam that emitted a stench the likes of which I hadn’t experienced since a pint-sized demon had crawled out of a latrine at city watch headquarters.

Like I said, ick.

Imala Kalis stood there, dripping, her glare saying loud and clear that all of it was Tam’s fault.

I had absolutely no doubt that it was.

Tam stood and flicked his hand in distaste, sending a splat of foam against the nearest wall.

“Why don’t we go upstairs, Imala and I will get cleaned up, and I’ll tell you what you have in your mirror?”

The last time Mychael and I had been with Tam in his apartment
over Sirens’ stage, we’d been attacked by the undead minions of the Demon Queen.

I, for one, could do without a repeat.

Tam had insisted that the Passage door was securely closed and locked, but bad luck had been the only luck the three of us seemed to experience. If one of us hadn’t done something to bring evil bad guys down on our collective heads, one of the other two could be counted on to pick up the slack.

It wasn’t a matter of
if
but
when.

I could do without a repeat of that, too.

None of us were holding our breath that Doom hadn’t put us on his dance card and just hadn’t told us yet.

The coded message Mychael had sent to Tam had given him the basics of what had happened to Markus. He’d just finished telling Tam and Imala the gruesome details while Tam fixed us all some much needed drinks.

The two goblins exchanged a glance when Mychael finished.

“And all this coincidentally happened less than two hours before Tam and I were due to arrive,” Imala said, slouching down in her chair. “Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

Tam took a fortifying swig of his drink. “What attacked Markus was a Rak’kari, a creature conjured from goblin elemental magic, like a Magh’Sceadu. But while Magh’Sceadu feed on magic and life essence, Rak’kari just kill. It’s all they were made to do, and as you witnessed for yourself, they do it very well. Their webs are coated with a poison that can paralyze in seconds and even stop a heart. They have small mouths, which make it difficult to feed. So like some spiders, their bite injects venom into their victim that dissolves flesh and organs into a drinkable liquid.”

I think my mouth was hanging open. “Doesn’t goblin elemental magic make any fluffy creatures?”

Tam flashed a grin and took another sip of his drink. “It does, but you should see the teeth.”

“I’d rather not.”

I looked at Mychael. I didn’t need Tam to tell me how close Mychael had come to sharing Markus’s fate. The high collar on his tunic—and my hands glowing red with suspicious new magic—had been all that’d kept Mychael from certain death. Justinius was right; I didn’t care what kind of magic had taken up residence inside of me. If it’d saved the life of the man I loved, it could stay. For now.

Mychael didn’t tell Tam about his close call. I bit my tongue and followed his lead. It’d happened, it was over, and Mychael hadn’t died. That was how Mychael’s “man logic” saw it. As far as he was concerned he’d dodged that dagger and moved on. If I was going to be married to a man who ignored Death on a daily basis, I’d need to learn to do the same. I’d do it, but I wouldn’t like it—or probably ever get used to it.

“I thought I knew about all goblin elementals,” Mychael was saying.

“It’s no surprise that you haven’t heard of Rak’kari,” Tam told him. “They’re rarely conjured because they can’t be controlled. They’ll turn on and kill their creator as soon as they manifest unless they’re immediately contained.”

I was incredulous. “So the black ‘rope’ Markus was wrapped in was a
web
?”

Tam nodded.

“It was as thick as two of my fingers put together. How big is this thing? Or do we not want to know?”

“You probably don’t want to know.”

“Okay, I’m good with that.” I raised my glass. “Here’s hoping I’ll never have to look one in its ugly face.”

“Technically, it doesn’t have a face.”

“What part of I’m good with not knowing don’t you understand?”

Imala sighed the sigh of the long-suffering. “Welcome to my world.”

“And there’s no recorded way to kill them.” Tam continued. “They don’t require air, they can live underwater, and their outer armor is indestructible.”

I just sat there. “It’s a spider monster with a
shell
?”

Tam nodded. “The entire body is armored.”

“Of course, it is. Magh’Sceadu are Khrynsani. Whose bright idea was it to create Rak’kari?”

“Khrynsani.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I wish I could.”

“Shit,” I spat.

“We couldn’t agree more,” Imala said. “The night you destroyed the Saghred, we arrested as many Khrynsani as we could find, but just as many escaped. They have nothing to lose now and everything to gain.”

“First being revenge on us,” Tam noted.

“Whether they would have wanted to kill you and Imala as well would depend on their idea of revenge,” Mychael noted. “Would they want you dead at their hands, or would they prefer to leave you to take the blame for their actions?”

“Yes,” Imala replied.

“Pardon?”

“Yes, to both. They wouldn’t see why they couldn’t have both. Though they’d want blame to come first, death later, once they thought we’d suffered enough. When it comes to vengeance, we goblins prefer to drag it out as long as possible.”

Yet another goblin quality that gave elves nightmares.

I looked from Tam to Imala to Mychael in disbelief. None of them appeared to be shocked that there were still Khrynsani running around among the living, and still organized enough to come after us. Come to think of it, I shouldn’t be surprised. Roaches and Khrynsani, you couldn’t get rid of either one of them.

“The Khrynsani have been active for over a thousand years,” Tam told me. “They’ve always come back. They’re like rats. Kill a few and the rest will either disappear down holes or vanish into the walls. Lying low for a few years—a century even—is well within their capabilities. They’ve done it before.”

“I was thinking roaches.”

“Just as hard to exterminate, but it doesn’t mean we stop trying.” Tam flashed a grin complete with fangs. “And occasionally you get lucky and get a few under your boot.”

“Speaking of which, have your parents found Sandrina Ghalfari?” Mychael asked.

Sandrina Ghalfari was the mother of Sarad Nukpana, the late, not-lamented leader of the Khrynsani. The psychotic, rotten apple that had been Sarad hadn’t fallen far from his mother’s crazy tree. Sandrina had fatally poisoned Tam’s wife and had come close to killing Tam’s parents and his brother—and me. For a few hours, Sarad Nukpana had been the goblin king, with Sandrina as the power—and evil—behind the throne. Tam’s parents had led the goblin resistance. Tam’s mom was a mortekal, which in Goblin meant “noble taker of life” or “righteous executioner.” My translation was “badass assassin.” Before we’d returned to Mid from Regor, Tam’s folks said they’d be taking a second honeymoon/hunting trip, with Sandrina Ghalfari as the prey.

“They haven’t found her,” Tam was saying. “And yes, they’re still looking. Mom doesn’t give up, especially when it’s personal. Sandrina Ghalfari is as personal as it gets.”

Mychael raised his glass. “I wish them good hunting.”

“Don’t we all?” I muttered. “As to the rest of the Khrynsani crawling back out of their collective hole in the ground, isn’t there anything—”

“To keep them from coming back?” Tam finished for me. “When they do try to come home, they’ll find they don’t have a home to come to. Those sea dragons gave us a good head start on demolishing their temple.”

A family of sea dragons had been living in the caverns beneath the Khrynsani temple. Sarad Nukpana had summoned them up into the temple itself to kill and eat the goblin resistance fighters who were putting a crimp in what was to have been his night of triumph. The dragons had come up through the floors, and in their enthusiasm had brought down a big part of the ceiling.

“The stone used to build the temple is virtually indestructible,” Tam continued, “but no one told that to the sea dragons. We have our best engineers and stone masons working on a way to dump every last brick into the caverns and tunnels below the temple, then build something useful where it used to be, something the people can enjoy.”

Imala smiled, complete with dimple. “I’m in favor of a city park.” Then the smile vanished. “Mychael, is there any theory on how the Rak’kari got inside that mirror? I thought that once two mirrors were linked, the way was sealed and nothing could get inside.”

“It should be impossible, but obviously it isn’t. We’ve got several of the kingdoms’ top mirror researchers on the faculty here. Justinius has them working on it.”

“If Khrynsani made it, couldn’t they have put it in the mirror?” I asked.

Tam shook his head. “They prefer to travel by Gates.”

Of course they did.

A Gate is a tear in the fabric of reality. It’s not naturally occurring. Nothing about a Gate is natural—or legal or moral. Stepping through a Gate is like stepping through a doorway or a mirror. But unlike a doorway or mirror, it takes magic of the blackest kind to make one, magic fueled by terror, torture, despair, and death—the more the merrier.

“And with their preference for Gates, I’ve never heard of Khrynsani doing much, if anything, by way of mirror research,” Tam continued. “That being said, I’ve been away from court for two years. Imala?”

The director of the goblin secret service shook her head. Imala made it her job to know everything about her enemies, and the Khrynsani were at the top of her list.

“If there was such a person, either Khrynsani or goblin mirror mage, we would have heard of them, or at least rumors of their existence and abilities. Elves, on the other hand, are known for expanding the boundaries of what is possible in mirror travel.”

“The college’s faculty expert’s an elf,” Mychael said.

Tam shifted uneasily in his chair. “Carnades wasn’t the only mirror mage in his family. He wasn’t even the best. The Silvanus family is known for producing highly gifted mirror mages. Legendary, even.” He paused meaningfully. “A family full of expert mirror mages who blame us for Carnades’s death.”

“Sarad Nukpana killed Carnades,” I said. “If Carnades hadn’t kept trying to frame the three of us and have us executed, chances are we never would have had to go to Regor in the first place. But once we got there, he betrayed us, partnered with Nukpana, and then was stupid and suicidal enough to betray him. His death was his own fault.”

“To his family, Carnades could do no wrong,” Mychael said. “Everything he did was to reach his goal of ‘purifying’ the elven race. I know for a fact that they agreed with his views and supported any act he had to commit to achieve it.”

“Just what the Seven Kingdoms needs, an entire family of bigoted, sadistic sickos.”

“Don’t forget powerful and influential—at least they were. It’s not only Carnades’s death they would want revenge for. It’s the shame brought on the Silvanus name. Like most noble families, they take a great deal of pride in their honor, actual or perceived. The Silvanus family is ruined—financially, politically, and socially.”

“And I was the one who dug up the dirt,” I said. “I would do it again, I don’t care who it would bring down on my head. Though if I hadn’t kept trying to ‘do the right thing’ and save his hide every time someone or something tried to kill him, half our problems would’ve solved themselves.” I thought for a moment. “Would a Silvanus be too proud to ally with the Khrynsani? Though Carnades wasn’t too proud to buddy up to Sarad Nukpana.”

“They wouldn’t like it,” Mychael said, “but they’d do it. Carnades came way too close to securing the ultimate power for himself, and by association, his family. Everything a Silvanus does is for the advancement of the family. You may have found the ledger that put the final nail in Carnades’s coffin, but it was Markus who used it to bring him down.”

“And I gave it to him.”

“You did the right thing—the only thing. Exposing Carnades’s treason was Markus’s job, and I know for a fact that bringing down Carnades and his allies was the most enjoyable act of Markus’s entire career.”

“And it almost killed him.”

“How much do we know about specific Silvanus family members?” Imala asked. “In terms of mirror talent.”

“Carnades has a younger brother and an older sister,” Mychael said. “He had a younger sister who died nearly twenty years ago—was killed, actually. Rumor has it the family did it themselves. An honor killing.”

I blinked. “Honor?”

“She refused to marry the husband that had been chosen for her. She was in love with another.”

“And they killed her?”

Mychael nodded once. “Carnades’s older sister is said to be the best mirror mage in the family. However, they also believe in keeping their actual levels of talent secret, so their true powers are essentially unknown.”

“So any of them could be capable of shoving a Rak’kari into a mirror.”

“Now that we know it’s possible, a Silvanus would be a viable suspect.”

“We can safely assume that the Khrynsani were responsible for conjuring the Rak’kari,” Imala told us. “I think it would be in our best interests to keep that information to ourselves. I could see the Khrynsani wanting to disrupt the peace talks, and killing Markus Sevelien and making it look like goblin work would be an effective first step. To many of the delegates, there’s not any difference between a Khrynsani and the goblin government—they see them as one and the same. During his reign, Sathrik did all that he could to encourage that view. It intimidated his people, his enemies, and the other races. We want and need trust now, not intimidation and fear.”

“Who is protecting Chigaru and Mirabai while the two of you are here?” Mychael asked.

“Kesyn Badru and my grandmother are with them,” Imala said. “And between me and Tam, we’ve provided enough qualified guards.”