Kelley Armstrong - Sea of Shadows

He gave her a look. When she resumed watching the fight, Gavril tried to nudge her from the fence. She ignored him. This was a distraction and she was happy for it. Also, admittedly, she was enjoying it. There was something to be said for watching an expert swordsman in training, particularly if he was young and, at least from this distance, well formed.

When Tyrus wheeled to avoid a blow, he noticed that he had an audience and gave a small bow. His instructor’s sword flashed, nicking the youth’s cheek to get his attention. Moria would have expected a prince—even a bastard prince—to take the rebuke badly, but she heard Tyrus laugh as he called something to his instructor. Then he resumed the fight.

“Keeper,” Gavril said.

She was about to brush him off again when she saw what he meant—the court Keeper and Seeker were coming down the walk.

The Seeker—Ellyn—came first, walking with a warrior’s haughty stride, despite her age. The Keeper—Thea—followed behind, her hands folded in front of her. It was said that when a Keeper and Seeker were chosen, the beasts determined which would be which. Then the babies were quickly given bracelets. Moria was convinced that some early nursemaid had switched Thea and Ellyn’s bracelets.

Even their beasts didn’t seem as bonded to them as Tova and Daigo. When Ashyn was little, she’d say it was because Thea and Ellyn hadn’t named their beasts. They were simply the Hound and the Wildcat. That was, however, the tradition. It was their father who had let the girls break it—one of his small, quiet rebellions.

“Moria,” Ellyn said as she strode through the gate. “What is the meaning of this, summoning us?”

“She didn’t,” Ashyn said softly. “I did.”

The old Seeker turned a disdainful look on her student. “Don’t take the blame for your sister, Ashyn. I know which of you is the impetuous one.” She turned to Moria. “And the disrespectful one.”

“I’m sure Moria meant no disrespect, sister,” Thea said as she caught up.

“No, she didn’t,” Ellyn said. “She’s simply thoughtless. As demonstrated by coming here, knowing the danger it puts our city in, having two Keepers and two Seekers.”

“We haven’t even passed our seventeenth summer,” Moria said. “Our combined powers should barely add to one of yours.” She paused. “Unless you’re concerned that we’re more powerful than we ought to be. Or that you’re weaker.”

Ashyn elbowed her to silence. “We’ve had a long journey. My sister is tired and even more impatient than usual. However, we bring an urgent missive—”

“Which you will give to us. Then you will leave the city.”

Moria stepped up to the old woman. “Edgewood is gone. Our village has been massacred by shadow stalkers—”

“Shadow stalkers?” Ellyn laughed. “Your village was massacred by figments of your imagination?”

Moria gripped her blade, and it took everything in her not to draw it. “No, my father was killed by shadow stalkers , as Ashyn and Gavril will attest—”

“Your sister and a traitor’s son? Those are your witnesses?”

“My witnesses are the dead of Edgewood. My father and the governor and the commander—”

“This will be investigated. In the meantime, you shall not—”

“I will pass!” Moria roared, Daigo snarling beside her. “My village is gone and its children are held prisoner, and you will let me pass, old woman, or I swear by my ancestors—”

Thea drew her blade, lunging forward, still spry for her age.

Gavril stepped between them. “This is unreasonable. They ask only to see the emperor. It is their right to do so. If you will allow us to explain…”

“Yes, ladies,” said a voice behind the women. “Please let them explain.”

It was the young prince, Tyrus. He’d sheathed his sword and was walking toward them from the palace gardens.

He looked—as she would have expected from the emperor’s son—empire-born. Of course, they were all born in the empire, but the term was used to denote those who came from the original kingdom that had eventually conquered the surrounding lands and formed the empire. His skin was the color of golden sand, his hair straight and black, his cheekbones high and his dark eyes slightly tilted. It was, within the empire, considered the highest standard of beauty—a standard, Moria suspected, set by those who ruled it. She was not herself given to preferring any regional “look” over another, but even she would admit the boy was very well formed from face to physique, and she allowed her gaze to linger as he approached.

“Hello, Gavril,” he said with a genuine smile. “It’s good to see you back.”

Gavril managed a stiff bow. In turn, Tyrus bowed to Ashyn and Moria.

“The Keeper and Seeker of Edgewood, I presume. I’m Tyrus Tatsu. Welcome to the imperial city.”

“This does not concern you, your highness,” Ellyn said. “It is a spiritual matter.”

“Oh?” He stopped before them. “It sounded like a martial matter from where I was standing. Do you always discuss the spirits with shouts and drawn blades?”

“Your highness—” Thea began.

“Have the young Keeper and Seeker come for guidance? Additional training?”

“No, your highness,” Ashyn said. “We bear a message for your imperial father. One that we have been instructed to deliver to his hand.”

“Oh?” He gave a feigned look of confusion for the old women. “That does not seem like a spiritual matter at all.”

“The spiritual matter is that they ought not to be in this city. Two Keepers and two Seekers ought not to occupy the same location.”

Again he faked confusion. “But it’s been done, hasn’t it? I seem to recall that one of the traveling pairs visited court last summer.”

Moria bit her cheek as Ellyn’s face darkened. Challenges and arguments posed as innocent questions was not Moria’s style, but she could see the advantage of the strategy. There was no way the old Seeker could argue without seeming rude, particularly when the one asking was an imperial prince.

“Your highness,” Ashyn said to Tyrus. “If we could explain the situation—”

“There is no need to bother the young prince—”

“The village of Edgewood is no more,” Moria said. “The people of Edgewood are dead, massacred. The children were spared, but if we do not get this missive to the emperor, their lives are forfeit, as are the lives of every villager in Fairview.”

Silence. Tyrus stared at her, stunned. “Your entire village…”

“Yes, your highness. Every man and woman. Now mercenaries hold the children in Fairview, under siege.”

“We have only their word, your highness,” Ellyn said. “Three children, one of them the son—”

“One of them a warrior in service of the empire,” Tyrus said. “A boon companion who trained with me. Although given that Gavril is several moons my senior, I suppose that means I am merely a child, too.”

“Of course not, your highness.”

Tyrus turned to the two guards. “Would you leave us, please?”

Once they’d walked out of earshot, Tyrus turned to Moria and Ashyn. “The deeper problem, I fear, is that my father is not in the city.”

“Your highness!” Thea said.

“It is, as you see, a matter of some secrecy. The people do not like their emperor to leave, yet my father feels the occasional need and does so unbeknownst to his subjects and most of his staff. I will, of course, have my brothers send a party to retrieve him. In the meantime, I would like to offer you the hospitality of the court. It has very richly appointed guest rooms for visiting dignitaries, which you are. Our Keeper and Seeker will remain in their quarters, in the Chambers of the Divine, suitably separated from you, should the proximity make the spirits uneasy.”