All Spell Breaks Loose

Chapter 23

All of the magic Sarad Nukpana had murdered to have for his own, the power he had hoarded for his moment of triumph, had been his undoing, twisted into his ultimate weakness.

Kesyn Badru had been right.

But right now, standing outside the Khrynsani temple, Tam had some explaining to do to his old teacher and a livid Imala Kalis. Yes, Tam had summoned a demon, but before he’d released it, there’d been some fast talking and even faster deal making on Tam’s part. With his obscene level of power, Sarad Nukpana had turned himself into a veritable demonic feast. Tam told the demon that he’d release him, but only if he gave his word that he’d only take Sarad Nukpana. Tam’s soul wasn’t part of the deal or even on the table.

Demons were, well… demons, but if you managed to get one to give you its word, it was good. However, you had to be careful not to give them a loophole in that verbal contract to pick up a couple of extra treats while they were here. Tam gave the demon a look at the buffet, then made him promise not to get greedy.

It had worked.

Being the right-hand mage and counselor of the goblin queen for five years had taught Tam how to close loopholes like little nooses.

Tam had gambled on the strength and appeal of Sarad Nukpana’s power, betting that the demon would want Nukpana worse than the demon would want him. I wondered if the demon felt cheated. Probably. If he did, Tam would have to watch his back from now on. That thing would want payback of the eternal kind. Then again, didn’t we all have to watch our backs against someone—or something? The more power you had just meant there were bigger and meaner things stalking you.

Tam was explaining all this to Kesyn and Imala. Or trying to. It wasn’t that Imala didn’t understand it; she understood only too well. She was infuriated that Tam had dangled himself like an hors d’oeuvre to lure a demon to a Sarad Nukpana feast.

“Because if I had told you,” Tam was saying, “the demon would have known, and I’d have been a greasy spot on the floor. Calling a demon, then putting conditions on their release, really pisses them off.”

Imala’s dark eyes glared daggers at Tam. “And you risked yourself on the chance that thing would want Sarad more than you.”

“I only have one soul in me,” Tam said. “Sarad had six ancient sorcerers, Rudra Muralin, and some Saghred mojo. Me? Just one soul, and in comparison, miniscule power. Scrawny power versus fat and juicy with evil. It was no contest.”

Imala was quivering with fury. “What would have stopped him from taking both of you?”

Tam was confused and well on his way to annoyed. “We. Had. A deal.” This was the third time he’d had to repeat that particular fact, and couldn’t understand why Imala wasn’t getting it.

“And if he’d failed to catch Sarad?” Imala asked.

Tam shrugged. “Then I probably would have ended up as the consolation prize.”

Imala flung her hands up in exasperation. “Precisely!”

“But it worked. I’m still here.”

Imala’s fists were clenched, she was virtually shaking with rage, and her restraint was about to take off for hell in a handbasket. Should she use her fists to beat some sense into Tam, or should she—

Imala unclenched her fists, grabbed Tam’s head in both hands, pulled him down, and kissed him. Hard.

Tam hadn’t expected that, but he recovered quickly and Imala found herself lifted off her feet. I don’t think she noticed.

Tam’s parents were having a similarly passionate reunion; but unlike Imala, Deidre hadn’t needed to fight the urge to punch Cyran before kissing him.

We were out of the temple and in Execution Square near the palace, surrounded by those Resistance fighters who weren’t presently occupied hunting down any and every Khrynsani they could find. The Mal’Salin palace also had dungeons, and that had been where Sarad Nukpana had imprisoned the goblin nobles who’d refused to bow down to him.

Apparently the explosions and resulting blaze had been a result of a massive wagon full of armaments with just enough Nebian black powder inside to make for one heck of a pyrotechnics display, and to blast a sizeable crater at the foot of the Khrynsani temple stairs. Witnesses said the wagon had been driven into the square and parked in front of the temple by a lone goblin, who released the wagon’s team of horses, hurled a torch on top of the wagon, and then ran like hell.

Damage to the inside of the temple had been even more extensive. The sea dragons had been big enough to break through the temple floor, but fortunately weren’t small enough to get through the front doors. Once Sarad Nukpana was gone, so was his control over the dragons, and the pair had gone back where they’d come from; that is, once all of their food had run screaming outside and out of their reach. The Resistance mages had a couple of weather wizards among their number, and they were presently exhausting themselves trying to put out the still burning crater.

Prince Chigaru and Princess Mirabai were being celebrated by their nobles as their new goblin king and queen. Chigaru was the last Mal’Salin heir standing, so that was enough for the nobles to begin sucking up. More than a few of them were wearing the same fancy clothes that marked them as having been in the temple just an hour before. However, most were the nobles who had been newly released from the palace dungeons. Their sincerity didn’t sound forced, unlike their well-dressed counterparts’. I hoped Imala had some trusted agents in the crowd noting who was dressed up and who looked like they’d been languishing in a dungeon. That knowledge would come in handy for culling the wheat from the chaff later. For now, the army officers and some newly handpicked loyal soldiers had established a heavily armed perimeter around their new monarchs and were allowing the nobles to get only marginally close and only one at a time. From time to time, as a particularly well-dressed noble was allowed to approach and bow, Mirabai would whisper in her soon-to-be husband’s ear. In response, Chigaru would scowl at the now-shaking supplicant.

Oh yeah, those two were going to clean house.

Goblin politics was a fluid thing, and goblin courtiers were, shall we say, flexible in their loyalties. Loyalty seemed to pass easily from Sathrik to Sarad Nukpana to Chigaru. I didn’t think they could help themselves. If a goblin aristocrat was breathing, they were plotting. And if they were plotting, they were happy.

They weren’t the only ones—who were happy, that is.

I had my arms around the waist of a certain Guardian paladin, and he had one arm tightly around me. The hand of his other arm still had a tight grip on that curved goblin sword, his sharp blue eyes taking in every threat within fifty feet in every direction. Seeing that we were surrounded by scheming goblin courtiers, regardless of how well behaved, I wholeheartedly approved of how Mychael was dividing his attentions.

Words couldn’t describe how wonderful it was not to have a target on my forehead or anywhere else. The Saghred was dust, and Sarad Nukpana was in whatever circle of the Lower Hells had been prepared especially for him.

No one would gain anything by killing me anymore.

At least for now.

Mychael was warm, he was holding me, and both of us were alive and breathing. Life was good. I nuzzled Mychael’s neck, then stood on tiptoe and nibbled his earlobe.

The sword promptly lost Mychael’s attention. Take that, piece of metal.

“Mmm,” Mychael murmured. Then I was on the receiving end of some nuzzles and nibbles of my own.

I suddenly sensed a pair of entirely too watchful eyes. I tried to turn and see who it was, but that wasn’t easy with Mychael still holding on. Kesyn Badru was standing a few feet away.

“You were listening,” I accused.

“Yep.” The old mage smiled, exposing his chipped fang. “And watching. When you get to be my age, you take your thrills anywhere and way you can find ’em.” He nodded with approval and his dark eyes gleamed. “You did good; I’m proud of you.”

“And thank you for being a stinky old man.”

Kesyn laughed. “Never try to be anything you’re not.” He lowered his voice. “Any sign of your magic?”

“Not yet.” I concentrated for a moment, probing around a little in my head. “At least I don’t think so.”

“Give it some time; it’ll come back.”

I nodded, surprised at the sudden realization that I really wouldn’t mind all that much if it didn’t come back. I’d done pretty well over the past few days without it.

“Sir,” Piaras called to Tam. He pointed at a figure on the palace’s garden wall.

The figure whooped.

I squinted through the smoke still coming from the now-extinguished crater. Hmm, a crater made by an exploding wagon—much like a certain exploding goblin army latrine. That explosion had been followed by a mooning from a certain goblin teenager running amuck.

We weren’t being mooned—we were getting the full frontal treatment. Well, navinem did lower your inhibitions. Too bad Talon didn’t have any of those to begin with.

Piaras got a good look at his friend and cracked up.

Talon was whooping up a storm, swinging what looked to be his trousers in victory circles over his head. I said they were probably his trousers because he wasn’t wearing any—or anything else, for that matter.

Lord Talon Nathrach, son of the chancellor to the king, heir and scion of the noble House of Nathrach, was standing above Execution Square, in front of hundreds of goblin aristocrats, buck naked, and loving it. From what I could tell, the kid had nothing to be ashamed of, and many of the ladies of the court shared my opinion.

“That your boy?” Kesyn asked.

Tam sighed. “I’m afraid so, sir.”

The old mage grinned. “Well, I think that takes care of his introduction to the court.”

Tam desperately wanted to be somewhere else as Talon leapt down from the wall and took a victory lap around the square.

“He’s all yours,” Tam told his teacher.

“Oh joy.”

The old mage’s words said one thing; the gleam in his eyes told anyone watching him something else.

Kesyn Badru lived for a challenge.

Talon was taking the last half of his victory lap. Kesyn for a teacher. I almost felt sorry for Talon. I grinned slowly. Almost.

Since there was no longer a father of the bride, Kesyn stood in. And I was thrilled and honored when Princess Mirabai asked if I would stand in for the mother of the bride.

The new goblin queen had to be the happiest-looking new orphan I’d ever seen.

It was a beautiful wedding. The throne room was lit by what had to be hundreds of candles with not a blue lightglobe in sight, filling the room with a warm, golden glow. The room was far from being full. The only courtiers in attendance were those whom the new king trusted not to put a knife in his back. Though I bet the kitchen staff loved it; less people to feed at the reception.

At the end of the ceremony, when the priest had told the king that he could kiss his bride, he probably didn’t think he’d have to ask him to stop.

The marriage of the new goblin king and queen was off to a good start.

Though one person in attendance was a little on edge. King Chigaru had named Tam as his heir until such time as he and Queen Mirabai had a child.

Tam was standing off to the side, wearing full court robes, having what I’d counted as his third glass of wine. I noticed that Tam’s simple circlet had been replaced by an only slightly less ornate version of the crown Chigaru was wearing.

“Fancy headgear,” I noted, determined to keep a straight face. “Nice.”

Tam grunted. It wasn’t a particularly enthusiastic one. “I’ve never wanted anyone to survive this badly.”

“Maybe your new king thinks that after what you pulled off in the temple, no assassin would be suicidal enough to come after him with you around.”

Without changing expression, Tam brushed the tip of his nose with his finger. “That and one more level for an assassin to go through.”

“Gee, wasn’t that nice of him?”

“For once, His Majesty is right. However, one shrewd move deserves another.” Tam inclined his head toward where a black-garbed mage stood guard over the royal couple. I spotted more, strategically placed throughout the reception room watching king, queen, and guests. These guys looked familiar.

I smiled. “Your dark mage hit squad buddies from Mid?”

Tam grinned with satisfaction and no small level of relief. “That’s them.”

“So you don’t want to be king?”

“You’ve seen the job. Would you want it?”

“Can’t say that I would.”

I glanced over to where Talon was essentially holding court and basking in the grateful glow of a bevy of beautiful young noblewomen. I wondered how many of those noble ladies had seen the kid naked? Heck, probably all of them. And if any of them hadn’t seen, they’d heard.

“I see what you mean,” I said. “You as king would make Talon a prince. That’s an ego boost the kid doesn’t need.”

Chigaru had maneuvered Mirabai to a cozy corner where they were engaged in some serious smooching.

“You shouldn’t have to wait long for that heir,” I noted. “Though I have to say that baby goblins must make for some painful nursing.”

Tam smiled, leaning down close to my ear, and whispered, “Our fangs don’t come in until after we’re weaned.”

“Oh.” I felt a flush creep up my neck into my face as I had a visual of Tam and breast-feeding. That image would be staying with me for a while and making repeat appearances at inconvenient times.

Imala swept over to where Tam and I were standing, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a formfitting silver velvet gown. For her service to the crown, Chigaru had made her a duchess and given her lands to go with it.

In addition to the deemed-to-be-trustworthy palace guard and Tam’s buddies turned bodyguards, Mychael had arranged for some Guardian backup troops to supplement Chigaru’s forces in the city until the transition was complete—which meant once all the traitors had been rounded up and dealt with according to their level of treason. I hoped Mychael’s men liked goblin food; they were going to be here awhile. This place had been a bubbling vat of treason.

“How’s the roundup going?” I asked her.

“Fast enough for progress and too damned slow for me. Separating the merely manipulative from the hardened opportunist is proving difficult.”

“In other words, all of them are back-stabbing hypocrites.”

“If there weren’t any hypocrites, we’d have no royal court,” Imala said. “And we’re questioning all of them.” She sighed.

I whistled. “All of them are a lot.”

The chief of the secret service and, for now, palace security raised her glass, then drained it. Imala had some catching up to do if she wanted to keep up with Tam.

“Job security at its finest,” she said.

“Anyone who’s willing to oversee this… Imala, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve inherited a nut farm.”

She grinned. “They are my people.”

“They’re nuts.”

“That doesn’t make them any less my people.”

Mychael was talking with Cyran and Deidre Nathrach. Nath had wandered over to Talon to see if his nephew needed any help with his flock of admiring beauties.

Chigaru and Mirabai had given the Nathrach family all of the Nukpana and Ghalfari lands and titles, making them among the wealthiest goblins in the kingdom.

“We thought we’d stay here in the capital and bask in the glow of our reunited family,” Deidre was telling Mychael.

Cyran slid an arm around his wife and pulled her closer. “Then we’re going to go off together for a long romantic holiday.” He and Deidre exchanged a glance, their dark eyes sparkling. “And do a little hunting.”

Mychael looked from one to the other. “I take it you won’t be hunting boar.”

“Correct,” Cyran said. “I’m married to the best mortekal in the kingdom. It would be a shame not to exercise her talents.”

“You’re going after Sandrina,” I said.

“I said that I had business to settle with her,” Deidre said. “And I never leave loose ends.”

Sandrina remained unaccounted for after Sarad Nukpana had been taken by the demon. Since Deidre wasn’t a magic user, the Khrynsani hadn’t used magic-sapping manacles on her. So when Mirabai had cuffed Sandrina with them, those manacles had only contained her, not her magic. It wouldn’t have taken much for a mage of Sandrina’s skill to free herself. She’d probably been free and running for the hills by the time that demon had dragged her son to his just reward. The city had been turned inside out looking for her. No luck. Cyran and Deidre were going to make their own luck.

Cryan spoke. “We have reason to believe that Sandrina is running to her family stronghold near the Great Rift, believing that they will protect her.”

“Will they?” I asked.

Deidre shrugged. “They might if they were still free to do so, though I doubt it. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. The Ghalfari family has been taken into custody. So Sandrina is in the wilds of the Northern Reach all alone.”

Cyran smiled. “And she’s never been much of an outdoor type.”

“And the two of you are going hunting.”

“We can’t spend all of our time in bed,” Deidre said.

Cyran’s wicked grin was a mirror image of Tam’s. “We could try.”

Mychael, Piaras, and I were due to go home after the reception. Kesyn knew an expert mirror mage who was standing by to take us back to Mid. Once we’d secured a way home, Mychael had immediately contacted Justinius and Vegard to let them know and fill them in on events. Our mission had been a success and Justinius was thrilled. He reported that the goblin invasion had stopped soon after it had begun. The ships with the students were being recalled. Phaelan and Uncle Ryn had easily spotted the ambush that Sarad Nukpana had set up. The students had been all too glad to lend their magical assistance. The result? Nukpana’s ships had been completely and creatively defeated.

“Tam wants to keep Talon with him for a while,” Mychael told me.

“And have Kesyn teach him,” I chimed in.

“A place will be held for him if he wants to return to Mid.” Mychael took stock of Talon’s admirers and gave a low laugh. “Though that’s looking less likely by the moment.”

Imala had loaned me a breathtaking midnight blue gown with a silver belt, set with moonstones. Wedding finery had likewise been found for Mychael and Piaras.

Piaras was on the receiving end of his own share of come-hither looks.

“I’ll be knighting him within the year, you know,” Mychael said.

Mychael was getting his share of admiring glances, too. I growled. They stopped.

Mychael’s blue eyes sparkled. “Jealous?”

“Just defending my territory.”

I stepped in close and took his face in my hands. The stubble was nice, sexy nice. The paladin would have shaved for the wedding; Mychael had opted not to. He was relaxed, but most of all he was happy.

“We’ll be returning to Mid tonight,” Mychael said. “Justinius and Vegard will be waiting for us.”

“I’ll give both of them a kiss smack-dab on the lips. I cannot wait to get home.”

“Do you mean Mid—or Mermeia?” he asked quietly.

I knew what he was asking, and I was going to be honest with him and myself. Over the past few days my magic had come back. Not the catastrophic, taking-over-the-world power. Just mine, plus a little extra. Not impressive as most mages went, but I liked it. I would have eventually gotten used to not having magic, but it was a big part of me; and to be honest, words couldn’t describe how glad I was to have it back.

Mychael was waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know,” I said frankly. “It depends.”

“On what?” His eyes searched my face, uncertain.

“I had a life in Mermeia, with people there who love me and need me.”

“You have someone who loves you right here,” Mychael said softly. “And needs you.”

I laid a hand on his chest. “I know; and I love you, too.”

“There’s a ‘but’ in there. What is it?”

“What would I do on Mid?”

Mychael’s hands went to my shoulders, and he gazed down at me. “You could marry me.”

There was a difference between eventually expecting to be asked a particular question and actually hearing it. I kind of stopped breathing there for a minute. “Marry?”

Mychael bent his head and his smiling lips brushed mine. “Me.”

I actually took a breath and then managed to exhale, too. I was on a roll. “Marry you?”

Mychael kept his lips close to mine. “That was the question.”

“And if I agreed to become the wife of the paladin, what would I do?”

“Do?”

I pulled back from him. “Yes, do. I’m not going to sit around the citadel all day waiting to shine your armor. I don’t do armor.”

Mychael looked so honestly horrified that I had to laugh.

“I have squires who do that,” he said.

“Sharpen swords?” I asked.

“An armorer.”

“Feed Kalinpar?”

“Junior knights.”

“Warm your bed?”

“Now, that position is open.” His voice was a husky whisper.

One corner of my lips curled in a tiny smile. “As nice as I know that job is, I need more.”

“I know.”

I knew I could set up shop in Mid or offer my seeking skills to the city watch as a consultant, and I’d be good at either one. But it wasn’t enough, not anymore. “I can’t go back to what I was before,” I said.

Mychael gave a low laugh. “So now that you’ve help save the world, you want more? Raine Benares, Danger Addict.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

His eyes shone. “How far would you go?”

I ignored the double entendre. “I want to help people. Really help people. I want to make a difference.” I winced. “That sounded hokey as hell, didn’t it?”

“I’ve heard the words before.”

“From who?”

“Almost every Guardian candidate.” He gave me a long, appreciative look. Imala’s gown did look amazing. “You’d make our uniform look good.”

“You run an all-boys club, remember? Though Justinius’s granddaughter is working to change that, and I think she’s right. Besides, me and taking orders don’t go together.”

“I’m only too aware that you and orders are like oil and water. As to missing the people in Mermeia who love you, by the time Justinius is through cleaning house of Carnades’s Conclave allies, there are going to be quite a few high-level teaching positions vacant, some in the Guardians. I believe Justinius and Piaras’s grandmother, Tarsilia Rivalin, know each other.”

I cleared my throat. “Intimately.”

Mychael raised a brow. “Really?”

“And then some.”

“I would also like to see if I can’t talk your godfather into coming out of retirement. We’re going to have a large influx of cadets who will need specialized instruction. Tarsilia and Garadin’s talents and knowledge would be a much- needed addition to our curriculum.”

“Influx of cadets?”

“I think you know by now that Justinius likes shaking things up,” Mychael said.

I was instantly on guard. “Uh… yes, I noticed that.”

“Katelyn’s arguments haven’t been falling on deaf ears with the old man. He wants to begin admitting women into the Guardians—and he’d like for you to be the first.”

There were times when someone said something so completely unexpected that all you could do was stand there with your mouth open.

Eventually I managed to get out words. “And break a millennium of tradition?”

Mychael nodded. “Katelyn forced him to consider it, but it was you that influenced his final decision.”

“Me?” I was down to one word. Next I’d be speechless.

“Justinius said that if any Conclave mage questioned your or any woman’s qualifications for the job, that he’d point you in their direction, stand back, and enjoy the show.”

“The old man knows I can’t magically punch holes in walls—or mages—anymore, doesn’t he? And quite frankly, I’m glad I can’t.”

“He knows that. He also knows that five hundred Guardians aren’t enough anymore, and I agree. These past three months with the Saghred proved that.”

“The Saghred is gone. Nothing that big will happen again.”

Silence from Mychael.

Suddenly the crab puffs I’d plucked off a passing tray and eaten weren’t sitting so well. “You’re supposed to say, ‘No, that’ll never happen again.’”

“I can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

Mychael actually started ticking off items on his fingers. “Well, there’s this cursed ring that was last seen in the mountains of Mylora. I believe there were nine others forged around the same time.”

“Nine?”

“Plus the original one which makes ten. Then there’s a scepter in Nebia that one of the desert chieftains sold to a Caesolian crime cartel, which bears a striking resemblance to the legendary Scepter of Haz’Ghul.”

I just scowled at him. “Which does what?”

Mychael had to work to keep the smile off of his face, but he couldn’t keep it from his eyes. “It depends on the power of the person who has it during the full moon. And then there’s the mythical Treasure of Relmbek said to contain several magical objects that could be cataclysmic if they ended up in the wrong hands. Even worse, this treasure may not be mythical.”

“Lovely. Just lovely.”

“Its rumored location can only be reached by a nimble ship with a lunatic captain, and an even crazier crew.” One side of Mychael’s mouth curled in a crooked grin. “Would you happen to know a treasure-loving, seafaring madman?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. I take it you want my help with all of these?”

“And a few other similar items, like the occasional rogue black mage. I don’t want you in danger, but I know you won’t be happy unless you’re neck deep in it.” Mychael put his big hands around my waist and pulled me closer. “And I want you to be happy more than anything. This way you can do what you do best and know that you’re making a difference. Plus, you will be a shining example and inspiration to the first generation of female Guardians.”

“And just how do your men feel about this?”

“Surprisingly agreeable and open to the idea.”

I glanced over at Talon and grinned. “I think girl Guardians could even lure Talon back to Mid.”

“Chigaru has expressed interest in sending young goblins for training.”

“Including girls?”

“Oh, yes. And of course of those presently in the Conclave college, Justinius’s granddaughter will be one of our first recruits.”

Katelyn Valerian, spellsinger extraordinaire, also known as Piaras’s girlfriend. “Piaras would like that.”

“I like to keep my men happy.” Mychael ran his hands slowly down my back. “And if you’re in the Guardians, I can keep an eye on you.”

“And give me orders. Now we come to the real reason. You know I’m not the order-taking kind—”

“How about strongly worded suggestions?”

I snorted. “You’ve been doing that for the past three months. How’s it been going for you?”

“I’m a man who knows my limitations,” Mychael replied with mock gravity. “So, do you want to go out into the world to fight evil and rescue the downtrodden?”

I gave a little shrug. “Eh, it has its appeal.”

“You’d have a team with you. Occasionally that team would only be the two of us.”

I snuggled in closer. “That definitely has appeal.”

“Raine, I think we make a great team—that is, if you’ll have me.”

Mychael wasn’t only talking about a fulfilling career in fighting the forces of evil. I knew it and so did he.

I stood on tiptoe and gave him a lingering kiss. “Sign me up, Paladin Eiliesor,” I whispered. “It sounds like the adventure of a lifetime.”