Jessica Andersen - Magic Unchained

That should’ve seemed ironic, coming from him. Instead it was an indication of just how serious things had gotten all of a sudden. She could feel time slipping away from them, could feel the balance among the winikin threatening to skew too far away from center. Leaning in, she said urgently, “This isn’t about you, or even about the writs. It’s about needing the winikin to come together as a valid fighting force, and fast. Sasha managed to heal up the two who got hurt last night, but there’s already some serious rumbling going on, and lots of people pissed off, both because of what Zane and Lora did, and how their capture went down.” She didn’t blame him for that, though; there had been plenty of people involved in the plan, including her, so the failure was shared. If anything, the winikin would blame her for not seeing the Nightkeepers’ grandstanding for what it was. Gods knew she blamed herself for it. Now she needed to regain their trust as best she could. “The way I see it, my best chance for getting them to rally behind me is if I get some concessions from the king, ones that they care about, and that make them feel like they’ve got some say in their own destinies.”

She expected Sven to argue that this wasn’t a democracy and they all had to follow the damn leader. Instead, he simmered down and nodded, if slowly. “Okay, I get that. But I don’t see how Zane and Lora play into it. Don’t tell me you want to do some sort of a trial with the winikin version of a kangaroo court?”

His tacit acceptance probably shouldn’t have surprised her, and it definitely shouldn’t have warmed her. Because it did both, there was an edge to her tone when she said, “A trial would waste time that we don’t have, and I think it would stir up more questions than answers.” She shook her head. “No, I want to have Rabbit reprogram them and then send them home.”

There was a beat of silence and a flash of disbelief before he said, “You’re fucking kidding me.” He stared blankly at her for a long moment, then turned to Dez and Reese. “You’re not seriously considering this, are you?”

The king and queen, who sat together on the couch in jeans and sweatshirts with their heads tilted together, had been quietly observing the exchange. So quietly, in fact, that Cara got a sudden chill of premonition that there was something else going on here, that they hadn’t been waiting just to get Sven’s full version of what had happened during the bar fight. They seemed to be waiting to be convinced. But of what?

Heart thumping, she put in, “Obviously, we would only do it if Rabbit thought it was safe. He’s going to be the one questioning them. He’ll know if he can block their memories strongly enough to make it work.”

Sven shook his head, dividing his attention between her and the royal couple. “Use Rabbit to question them? Absolutely. But don’t let them go. What if the blocks fail? What if somebody recognizes their marks and tracks them back here? Hell, what if the Banol Kax find them and get inside their heads? They’ll know everything there is to know about us.”

“You think I don’t know that?” All those possibilities and more had kept her awake long into the night, talking it through with herself because there wasn’t anybody else she could use as a sounding board. “But think about it. If Dez orders their execution, he’ll be no better than Scarred-Jaguar, at least in the eyes of the winikin.”

“I don’t think…” But Sven trailed off. “Shit.”

“Exactly. He’ll be worse, even, because Scarred-Jaguar never actually used the death penalty. And you said it yourself—imprisoning them would be a waste of manpower. Worse, it could give them a chance to win over other rebels and stir things up, and we don’t have the time for that.”

“Some sort of stasis spell could work.”

“After you dropped a dozen winikin last night?” she said pointedly, then shook her head. “Even without that reminder of how easy it would be for you guys to overpower any one of us—or, hell, all of us—a stasis spell would come across as an abuse of power.”

“And Rabbit mind-bending them wouldn’t?”

“It’d be different,” she asserted, as she had done fifteen minutes earlier to Dez and Reese. “He’d be stripping them of their memories and implanting a cover story that explains where they’ve been for the past year. The trads will see it as punishment for them to lose their winikin heritage like that; the rebs will think the punishment is them not knowing to defend themselves—or how—when the end comes.”

He shook his head. “I still don’t like it.”

“I don’t see a better answer.” She shook her head as frustrated weariness started to encroach on the bravado she’d been channeling since she got to the royal suite. “If you do, bring it on.”

“Stasis. It’s neater, cleaner, and the winikin will get over it eventually.” He turned to Dez. “I’m taking the job. Which means I get a vote here.”

Fatigue took a backseat fast. “Wait. What job?”

Dez, though, got an ominous spark in his eyes as he zeroed in on Sven. “You’re sure? You’re really in?”

“One hundred percent.” He turned to Cara, and there was an implacable sort of wariness in his eyes as he said, “I hope you won’t hate me for this, and that we can figure out a way to make it work so things will be easier for you, not harder. I respect the hell out of you, both as a woman and as a leader… but everything inside me says that this is the right thing to do.”

“Okay, now you’re scaring me.” And not just a little. Her pulse thudded thickly in her ears and her stomach churned. “What are you talking about?” She turned to Dez, her voice threatening to wobble. “What’s going on here?”

“Things within the winikin are worse than any of us thought,” the king answered. “You’ve got factions within factions and your own people are trying to kill you. Now you’re asking me to give them weapons and autonomy, and let a couple of traitors go free because it’ll make you look like a leader.” He shook his head. “That’s a tough one to swallow, Cara. A fucking tough one.”

“If you were going to say no you would’ve done it already.” She hoped. He wasn’t just playing with her, was he, trying to make some other point she hadn’t gotten yet?

“I’ll give you what you want, on the condition that you accept a Nightkeeper liaison, a mage who will be right beside you every step of the way, helping rather than overseeing, but with veto power over your decisions.”

Cara’s heart stopped. Literally stopped. “A… what?”

“A Nightkeeper liaison.” Dez shook his head in sympathy, but said, “Sorry, that’s the deal. I need to know the winikin are under control, Cara. I can’t have this blowing up in my face. Not now. Trust me; you’re going to want to take the deal.”

This wasn’t happening, couldn’t be happening. Oh, gods. Her heart had started up again, but it was bumping off rhythm, fluttering against her ribs like it was trapped and trying to break free as the second shoe dropped. Sven had brought up the subject. He had said he would take the job. Which meant he had known about this. Worse, it meant he was the guy. Her liaison.

Oh, hell, no.

She was on her feet without having realized she had stood, though somehow Dez and Sven still seemed to tower over her, their presences expanding well beyond their physical bodies, part of the magic of the magi.

Refusing to feel puny, she balled her hands into fists and glared at the king. “What’s my other option?”

“I’d rather not go there. I hope you’ll take the offer instead.”

“But the politics—”

“Have to be secondary to the success of the war.”