Lynn Flewelling - Shadows Return

Korathan thought a moment, then put his hand to his heart. “I give you my word that I believe her when she says so.”

“Hmm. Very well. I’ll bring Klia home safely, and trust you to keep her that way once she’s here.”

“One of these days, that mouth of yours is going to get you into serious trouble.”

“Has before. Will again, I expect. Take care, Highness. I’m glad it’s you standing beside the throne.”

They took their leave, but it wasn’t until they were free of the Palace that Alec could finally breathe freely. “Phoria must have been satisfied with our answers, or she wouldn’t have given us a commission, right?”

Seregil shrugged, looking more upset now than he had when Phoria was insulting them. “It could have been worse. At least we have something worthwhile to do.”

Alec waited for him to say more, but Seregil was uncharacteristically quiet as they rode to the Orëska to catch up with Thero.

We lied, Alec realized. Given the choice between following Klia or Phoria, there would be no question. He prayed it never came to that.

Perpetual summer reigned in the walled gardens that surrounded the Orëska House. The shining white palace, with its four domed towers, gleamed against the faultless blue sky. Here were beds of flowers and herbs, and groves of trees covered in every sort of fruit. Magyana had brought back many of the most exotic ones, found in her long years of traveling.

Red- liveried servants bowed to them as they entered the echoing atrium. Sunlight streamed down through the central dome, making the brilliant mosaic that paved the entrance chamber glow. The great Dragon of Illior was whole again. Looking around at the graceful archways and the scores of robed wizards and apprentices going peacefully about their business, it was as if the devastation of the Plenimaran attack had never happened. Nysander was gone, but, Alec reminded himself, so were Mardus and his followers. The Orëska remained, strong and powerful. Why was Phoria so bent on alienating them?

“You’re gaping,” Seregil chuckled as they crossed to the staircase leading up to what was now Thero’s tower. As they reached the top, however, he was no longer smiling. They’d been in to visit Magyana several times since their return, but had avoided these rooms until now.

Wethis answered Alec’s knock. The young servant had grown up since Alec had seen him last and was sporting the beginnings of a passable beard. “My lords! It’s good to see you. Master Thero and Mistress Magyana are waiting in the parlor downstairs.”

Gone were the precipitous stacks of dusty manuscripts in the entry, and the jumbled wonders covering every flat surface. Everything was orderly and clean now, though evidence of Thero’s own work was everywhere visible in the neatly arranged books and papers, and the various crucibles simmering over little braziers. The freshly polished steel and brass astronomical instruments arranged on the walkway below the leaded glass dome gleamed. It was at once pleasant and sad, and Alec saw the same emotions warring in Seregil’s grey eyes as he looked around, taking it in for the first time.

The painted parlor was less changed, if neater. The fine mural painted with monsters and marvels still ringed the room, and its innate magic still tugged at the eye, even though Alec knew what it was up to now. The overstuffed furnishings were the same, well-worn and comfortable.

The wizards rose from their chairs by the fire as Wethis ushered them in. Magyana embraced them, her smile making the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth deepen and tilt. “So she’s finally found something for you to do, has she? Did she give you my message sticks?”

Seregil took them from his coat and handed them to her. “You think she’s tampered with them?”

“That would be very difficult.” Nonetheless, she examined each one closely. “Yes, these are mine, and still properly magicked. You should have no difficulty using them.”

“Phoria must trust you to have you make these,” Alec remarked. “She doesn’t seem very fond of any wizards these days, especially those who knew Nysander.”

“It was her brother who came to me.”

“We thought you might like to have these, as well.” Thero reached into his sleeve and handed Seregil another set of sticks, similar in design, but painted different colors. “The yellow is for Gedre, and the green for Bôkthersa. The brown one is in case Klia does decide to defy her sister. The messages will come to me.”

“Thank you. Alec, you hang on to these so we don’t get them mixed up. And I don’t think we want Captain Traneus to see us use them.”

Magyana’s grey brows shot up. “That reptile? Watch out for him.”

“That’s going to be difficult, seeing as how Phoria’s put him in charge of our escort.”

“What the hell is going on, Thero?” asked Alec. “Why did Phoria call you and the turma back first, if she was going to call Klia back anyway? Does she really think Klia would betray her?”

Thero waved them to seats by the hearth and poured the wine into the ornate crystal goblets. “I can’t say what was in the queen’s mind, of course, but it can’t have been lost on her that Klia has made a great many friends in Aurënen.”

“Friends Phoria fears could turn to allies?” Seregil scoffed. “That’s an insult to Klia and the ’faie.”

“It could be construed that way,” the wizard replied. “However, Prince Korathan indicated in his letters that Phoria is merely being cautious.”

“Or the family mad streak is coming out,” Alec muttered.

“Queen Phoria is not mad,” Magyana assured him. “She is a canny ruler, though, and a cautious one. I suspect that until Princess Klia bends her knee before her, that caution will prevail.”

“How did Klia react to Urghazi Turma being taken from her?”

“Phoria’s order indicated that Captain Beka Cavish is to prepare the rest of the regiment to receive their commander,” Thero replied.

Seregil gave him a crooked grin. “Sounds like you became her close adviser, down there together for so long.” The grin widened a bit as a faint blush rose to color the young wizard’s cheeks.

Klia- and Thero? Alec tried not to laugh, picturing those two as a couple.

“So, what happened at the Palace after Phoria sent me out?” Thero asked, quickly composing himself. “I see you both have your heads on your shoulders.”

Seregil quickly sketched out the situation, then turned to Magyana. “What can you tell me about this Traneus fellow?”

“I’d never heard of him until Idrilain lay dying that terrible winter in Mycena, just before you two were sent off to Sarikali. After that, Phoria never seemed to be without him. He had been a corporal in her guard, then suddenly he was a captain, and a lord. He has a nasty habit of turning up like a stray cat anywhere someone voices support for anyone but her. He certainly had his eye on me then.”

Alec sighed. “So much for her trusting us.”

“It’s probably Klia he’s being sent to spy on, rather than us,” said Seregil. “And besides, we’ve nothing to worry about. We’re doing exactly what Phoria wants.”

“The queen leaves nothing to chance, and she likes to hold all the cards,” Thero warned. “I’d have given you more warning, but she’s had me under watch since my ship came in yesterday. Did you get any of my letters?”

“So you did write? No, not one,” Seregil replied. “Is Klia well?”

“Oh yes, and well loved by your clan, and their allies.”

“Do you think she’ll come back?” asked Magyana.

Thero nodded. “Of course she will. She’s wanted nothing else since the Aurënfaie signed the accord. It’s been very difficult for her, getting news of the war but not being able to do anything.”