Lisa Shearin - Con & Conjure

This wouldn’t be the first time the Saghred had been taken from a goblin king and a mad Khrynsani. Dad and an elite team of Guardians had done it that time, too. Now he was talking about doing it again.

Like I said, goblins loved irony.

I didn’t.

“Okay, what’s the fix?”

He arched a brow at me. “Pardon?”

“The fix. The way we’re going to get there. You’re talking like getting to Regor before Nukpana starts feeding souls to the Saghred isn’t our biggest problem.”

“It’s not.” He paused, the pause of a man who was about to say something he knew I didn’t want to hear. “We’ll be using a mirror.”

Oh hell.

I just looked at him. “You know I hate mirrors, right?”

“I’m not fond of them myself, but it’s our only option. The entrance mirror is here in the citadel. The exit is in a cave ten miles southwest of Regor.”

We would be there in seconds. Step into one mirror, step out of another. We’d be in the goblin capital in time for a midnight snack. Easy, fast, hopefully not fatal.

“The team will have to be small by necessity,” he continued. “No more than ten people.”

I took a breath and tried to let it out without it shaking. I failed.

Dad studied my face for a moment. “Raine?”

“My magic’s gone,” I said slowly. “You know that, right?”

“I know.” His eyes were steady. “I’ve talked to Mychael about it and we want you to be on Phaelan’s ship out of here on the morning tide.”

Running for the rest of my life. Dad had been doing it for almost a thousand years. How long until I was caught? Or just got tired of running and let them catch me.

No. No more.

It wasn’t going to end like that. I wasn’t going to end like that.

I wanted to live, and dammit, I wanted a life. A happy one. If anyone deserved all of that and more, and to never have to look over his shoulder again, it was the man sitting across from me. And all of it—my life, his life, the survival of everyone Sarad Nukpana wanted dead—depended on us doing this and not failing.

Dad sat there, watching me, probably reading my mind.

“You want to go.” He stated it simply, no question.

“Walking through a mirror to Regor to take on Sarad Nukpana and the goblin army with no magic? Hell, no, that’s not what I want. No one in their right mind would want that. But I’m not running and I won’t let anyone else risk death or worse while I go sailing with Phaelan.” I stood up and looked around for my gear. “Kick someone off that team of yours. I’m going.”

“Are you sure?” Dad asked quietly. “No one would blame you. Actually, it’d be a relief to all of us to know you were safe.”

“No, I’m not sure, but I’m doing it anyway. I can still do something that none of you can. I can sense the Saghred. Do you have any idea how I can sense the rock, but can’t tap my magic?”

“You’re treading untrod ground, Raine. No one knows.”

“Sarad Nukpana’s going to know I’m not packing.”

“Safe assumption.”

I snorted. “Glad assumptions are safe. I’m not.”

“It’s entirely possible that your magic is simply in shock from what you went through and should be coming back.”

“Should?”

Dad shrugged. “It’s a theory.”

“Theories aren’t going to keep Sarad Nukpana from frying me where I stand.”

His lips turned up at one corner in a crooked smile. “Then I’d suggest you keep moving.”

“Story of my life,” I muttered, finishing off the rest of my coffee.

The smile turned into a grin. “Story of both our lives.”

There was a knock on the door, then it opened and Vegard stuck his head in. The big Guardian was still a little pasty, but he was smiling.

“Good to see you up and alive, ma’am.”

I raised my mug in salute. “Same to you, darlin’.”

“Are they ready for us?” Dad asked him.

“Yes, sir.”

I looked from one to the other. “Ready?”

“You’ll see, daughter. Follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Justinius Valerian’s office.”

“The goblins will kill me!”

I knew that voice. It belonged to the best mirror mage on Mid—and the Conclave’s newest criminal.

Carnades Silvanus.

“Shit,” I spat.

We were listening at the door outside of Justinius’s office. We hadn’t gone in yet, and I was giving serious thought to going right back to Mychael’s apartment and crawling under the bed.

Dad chuckled. “Couldn’t have said it better. Unfortunately, he’s also the best. And that’s his getaway mirror in that cave outside Regor.”

“Carnades was the emissary to the goblin court a handful of years ago,” Vegard said. “It was Archmagus Valerian’s first try to get rid of him. The goblins hated Carnades and the feeling was mutual, so . . .”

I nodded. “He had a getaway mirror waiting nearby, though you’d think he’d have put the thing closer.”

“Ten miles was as close as he could put it without it being detected,” Dad explained.

“And all of this is good, how?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he murmured. His eyes sparkled with barely contained mirth. “And Carnades has definitely drawn the short straw today.”

The Lower Hells were officially frozen over.

I was going to Regor using a mirror with Carnades Silvanus as my tour guide.

I gave a second’s serious thought to going sailing with Phaelan. A lifetime of running wouldn’t be that bad. I’d be in fabulous shape.

Justinius snorted and laughed. “You don’t have to go to Regor to die,” he told Carnades. “You’ve got people on this island lining up to kill you. The advantage to Regor is they won’t know you’re there—if you don’t screw up. You get the team there and safely back again. Every. Last. One. Do it and you live—behind bars, but your head will still be attached to the rest of you. If you don’t . . . well, you’d be better off staying with the goblins. On your return, your level of cooperation will be taken into consideration at your trial. Understand?”

“Perfectly.” Icicles hung off of that one word.

I decided to add the cherry on top of Carnades’s bad day. I stepped into Justinius’s office and let Carnades see me. The expression on his face made the risk of death and dismemberment in Regor worth it.

The elf mage was still wearing his usual sumptuous black velvet robes, but now they were perfectly accessorized with a pair of magic-sapping manacles. Though they were bright and shiny and looked more like jewelry than restraints. I guess high-class criminals got the good stuff.

Carnades’s face turned a most unattractive shade of red. “You!”

I smiled. “Me.”

I thought I’d make his day even worse by confirming what he’d long suspected. I walked over to Mychael and got myself a good hug and a kiss. I deserved it—and so did Carnades.

I looked up at Mychael, his arms still around me. “So when do we get this show on the road?” I nodded toward my dad. “I’ve been told the big picture.” I wasn’t about to say “dad” out loud around Carnades. Maybe it’d scare him into behaving if he knew—or kick him one step closer to more betrayal. Some secrets were best kept that way.

“The mirror we’ll be using is downstairs in the containment area,” Mychael said.

That was surprising. I’d have figured Carnades would have kept it in his house. But I guess if he came screaming through a mirror with a hundred pissed off and racially offended goblins after him, he’d want Guardians for backup, not his butler.

“We’ll leave as soon as we gather our gear and the rest of the team arrives,” Mychael told me.

“Who’s the rest of the team?”