Bewitched & Betrayed

Chapter 24

I sat next to Tam’s bed and watched him sleep, watched the movement of his chest as it rose and fell with a deep, steady rhythm, listened to his quiet breathing.

Against all odds, Tam was alive. And unless I shot him again, he was going to stay that way.

Mychael was the best healer in the seven kingdoms, but he had worked on Tam to the point that he had needed a healer himself. No doubt during his career, he’d healed some horrific injuries.

Tam had been dead. You couldn’t be any more horrifically injured than that.

Vidor Kalta had his hands full forcing Tam’s soul to stay in his body. Apparently when you died your soul wanted to leave. Immediately. Tam’s intention had been to live, but his soul had other ideas. Vidor had done the nachtmagus version of a wrestling match.

All while Mychael had been using every bit of healing skill he possessed to close the hole in Tam’s heart and then get it beating again. Justinius Valerian told me later that it was nothing short of a miracle that Mychael didn’t die in that street, too.

Mychael and Vidor Kalta had brought Tam back from the dead. If they weren’t legends in their fields already, they were now.

Justinius’s healer had taken care of Vegard. Last month, the old man had had a spellsong- induced heart attack courtesy of Rudra Muralin. Vegard had pretty much the same thing from Sarad Nukpana. After nearly a week, today was his first day out of bed.

We were in the citadel, in rooms that were well warded and even better guarded. Justinius wasn’t taking any chances. Though he didn’t have to worry about Sarad Nukpana, Janos Ghalfari, or what or whoever the hell he was now.

The bastard had actually managed to get away from that Reaper. I had no clue how he’d done it. Maybe having consumed the souls of some of the blackest black mages in history taught Sarad Nukpana a nifty trick or two for dodging Death. Regardless, he’d left the island before an hour had passed, and just before Justinius Valerian could seal the harbor. We knew this because Phaelan and Uncle Ryn could find out things that the harbormaster, city watch, and Guardians would never get wind of. A goblin matching Janos Ghalfari’s description had bought his way onto a Brenirian frigate headed for Mipor. He’d had a thick scarf tied tightly around his neck. The weather didn’t warrant it, but a broken neck would have. It must have helped hold his head up. Though he would heal. With that much magic surging through his body, he’d heal and he’d do it fast. Normally Brenirians would be reluctant to take on a goblin passenger, but this one had paid in gold—pure goblin imperial. Mipor was in Rheskilia. Goblin territory. A safe haven for an undead goblin son of a bitch who had a ton of payback coming to him.

Though on the upside, maybe since the Reaper didn’t fulfill its end of the bargain, it didn’t expect me to keep mine.

Yeah, I wasn’t holding my breath on that one, either. I kept expecting to have a chill that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with Death’s super-sized minion doing some heavy breathing down the back of my neck.

I wanted nothing more than to get rid of the Saghred and send the souls inside on their merry way, but there had to be a way to do that other than a Reaper using me for a soul straw.

Mychael was asleep on a couch against the far wall. He’d refused to leave Tam’s room, even to sleep. But sleep would only be denied for so long.

Mychael’s coppery hair gleamed in the faint light of the two table lamps burning on either side of Tam’s bed. He was on his back; his hands lay relaxed and open on his flat stomach. Hands that had healed me from the brink of death, and brought Tam back from what lay beyond. I continued to watch him, careful not to move or make a sound. Mychael needed all of the sleep he could get. And like most healers—and warriors—the slightest noise would jolt them from a sound sleep, ready to take care of a patient, or take down an enemy.

A few strands of hair had fallen across Mychael’s eyes and I had a nearly overwhelming urge to brush his hair back. Being Mychael, but also being a warrior, one of two things would happen: a kiss or an armlock. One would be welcome; the other wouldn’t—though both would probably end up with me flat on my back on the floor with him on top of me. I smiled. That wouldn’t be bad; in fact, that would be very good.

I looked at Tam, his long hair spilling over his pillows and down his bandaged chest. His loose-fitting shirt was open down the front for access to the bandages.

When I’d first met Tam, all I’d known was that he was a goblin with secrets piled on top of plots, and that he liked elven women—a lot.

None of that had changed, but everything else had.

He was still a dark mage and he always would be. And as long as I was linked to the Saghred, I was still a dark mage magnet, a temptation he could not surrender to. I knew that—and so did he. Though now he was one big step closer to being out of the Saghred’s reach forever. When I’d shot him, at the moment of his death, our umi’atsu bond had been broken.

The Saghred couldn’t get its hooks into him now.

I leaned back in the chair at his bedside, sighed, and ran my hand over my face.

“Nice shot,” Tam murmured. His eyes were open, watching me. He actually looked rested and relaxed. My eyes felt bloodshot and I probably looked like hell.

I leaned forward and took one of his hands in mine.

It was warm, just like it should be. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I didn’t try to stop them. “Hey, you stood still for me,” I managed. “How could I possibly miss?” I paused, my throat tight. “I didn’t want to kill you.”

“You’ve been mad enough at me before to do it.” A crooked grin played across his lips. “I thought I’d finally give you a chance. Imala stabbed me once. Why shouldn’t you get to shoot me?”

I sniffed and tried a smile.

“Though that was one hell of a way to get a divorce,” he said.

“A divorce?”

“The umi’atsu.”

Mychael shifted on the couch, but surprisingly didn’t wake up.

“He’s been here almost the entire time,” I told him.

“He’s worried that I’ll try to get out of bed and ruin his work.”

“Good reason to stand guard, then.”

Tam looked at Mychael for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “He’s a good man.”

I gazed at my sleeping paladin. “Yes, he is,” I said softly. “And an even better friend,” Tam murmured. He pulled himself up on his pillows and hissed in pain.

That woke Mychael up.

His hair was tousled with sleep and his face was darkened with his morning beard. He took one look at me, grinned, and just shook his head. “Tam was a perfect patient until you showed up.”

My smile was almost demure. “You know I never claimed to be a good influence.”

Tam winced as he gingerly settled himself on the pillows. “Has Carnades gathered his lynch mob yet?” he asked Mychael.

I froze. “Lynch mob?”

Tam started to explain and Mychael held up his hand. “Save your strength. Carnades is claiming that Tam invited Sarad Nukpana’s soul in.”

Some things were just too freaking unbelievable for words, but I managed. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“The middle of the street at high noon isn’t exactly circumspect,” Tam said. “There were a lot of people watching and I did put on quite the evil show.”

“But you were possessed!”

“Carnades has always believed me to be as bad as Sarad Nukpana, if not worse. My actions in that street just confirmed what he’s been trying to prove to everyone since I got here.”

I turned to Mychael. “And let me guess, Carnades is claiming that you and Vidor Kalta are Tam’s evil minions because you saved his life.”

“Essentially.”

“So how did he manage to twist the fact that I killed Tam?”

“You took the law into your own hands and deprived the Seat of Twelve their due process.”

“Let me get this straight: he’s pissed at me because he didn’t get to kill Tam.”

“Exactly.”

“Mychael, tell me those guards outside are to protect Tam, and not because he’s been arrested again.”

“He hasn’t been arrested,” Mychael assured me. “Nor will he be.”

“And just who is going to pull off that feat?”

“I am,” Tam said. “By pulling the legal rug right out from underneath Carnades or anyone else who cares to challenge me.” He paused uncomfortably. “Sarad Nukpana possessed my body for nearly three hours. That included every soul Sarad absorbed trying to regenerate himself.”

“General Daman Aratus, two ancient goblin black mages, and Rudra Muralin.”

Tam nodded. “There were others as well, poor bastards who Sarad managed to snatch off the streets to sustain himself until he was strong enough to go after bigger game. He absorbed all of their memories, knowledge, and skills. Sarad used my mind to function, my body to act.”

I didn’t need a reminder. I also didn’t need to think about how close he came to getting away with everything, most of all what he’d done to Tam.

“He was in my mind—and I was in his,” Tam said quietly. “Raine, I know Sarad Nukpana’s plans and precisely how he intends to carry them out. Every step of the way.”

“And now he’s running home to share his plans and all of his newfound knowledge and power with his evil cohort, Sathrik Mal’Salin.”

“Sarad will use the king only as long as it is convenient. Sathrik’s crown and throne will be irrelevant once Nukpana puts his plans in motion. Sathrik will be a figurehead king, or he’ll be dead. Once he realizes that his former partner in crime has turned against him, Sathrik will go along, waiting for an opportunity to have Nukpana killed.”

I snorted. “Like that’s going to happen.”

“You’re right. It won’t. Sathrik will be a puppet or he’ll be dead, and the choice won’t be his to make. When Sarad no longer needs him, he’ll kill him. He can’t afford to let him live.”

“King Sarad Nukpana does have a certain ring to it,” I said, “and not a good one. But he doesn’t have the Saghred. And he sure as hell isn’t getting his hands on me. I’m not going anywhere near Rheskilia.”

“You won’t need to,” Mychael said quietly.

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“You shouldn’t. Nukpana was only in direct contact with the Saghred through Tam and your umi’atsu bond for a short period of time.”

“An hour, maybe a little more,” Tam said. “But it was enough.”

I knew I didn’t want to hear this. “Enough for what?”

“You have only had direct contact with the Saghred on a few occasions,” Mychael said, “and only for a few seconds each time. And each one of those times you fought that contact.”

“Sarad didn’t fight,” Tam said. “He was absorbing power like a sponge. And with Rudra’s knowledge, and the power of those two ancient mages, you can bet Sarad is going to make the most of everything he got.”

“You retained the power that the Saghred gave you,” Mychael said. “So will Sarad Nukpana.”

The implication of what Nukpana was now capable of was staggering. “Even though he doesn’t have the rock itself, he picked up plenty of new evil tricks, tricks he can’t wait to take home and use.”

Mychael nodded. “So destroying the Saghred has never been more important. If Nukpana wants to increase his power—and he will—he needs the Saghred itself. He’s not on the island any longer to do it himself, but Tam tells me that there are some individuals in the goblin secret service who are more than up to the task.”

I looked at him sharply. “Imala?”

“Imala is on our side,” Tam assured me. “She’s been here and we’ve talked.” His lips became a thin line and his brow furrowed. I knew that expression only too well. It was the one that said he’d been wrong and he didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t approve of some of the choices Imala has made. Being stuck here in bed gave me a lot of time to think, and I’ve realized that I’m the last person who can stand in judgment of her.”

“That still doesn’t explain how you plan to pull the legal rug out from underneath Carnades.”

Tam frowned. “It explains it all. What Imala said is true; I resigned my position at court, but Queen Glicara didn’t accept my resignation. She was murdered before she could do so. Imala knew who was responsible and why, so she immediately went through Glicara’s royal papers and took anything that she felt might be advantageous to have in the future.”

“Your resignation was one of them.”

“Correct. With the document in her possession, it is as if it were never written.”

“And you never resigned.”

Tam nodded. “It’s not unusual for a goblin noble to leave court for a time to avoid having a dagger planted between his or her shoulder blades.”

“And Sathrik never officially stripped Tam of his rank and position,” Mychael said. “Since Tam left the court voluntarily, he didn’t deem it necessary.”

“Too busy plotting evil.” I looked at Tam for a long moment. “So you are still a duke and the chief mage for the House of Mal’Salin.”

Tam inclined his head. It was the same way he’d always done it, but I noticed for the first time how regal it was.

“Diplomatic immunity,” I said. “Carnades really can’t touch you.”

“No, he can’t.”

“Not unless he and Balmorlan want to start that war of theirs now,” Mychael said. “And they’re not ready. Neither are their allies. Unfortunately, neither is our queen or army.”

I froze in place. “What do you mean ‘unfortunately’? We don’t want a war.”

“No, we don’t. However, Sarad Nukpana has the magical skill and force he needs now to start one. Plus he has all of the memories and knowledge of General Aratus. The elven forces would be crippled before first blood was spilt.”

“And Sathrik doesn’t give a damn about what our people want,” Tam said. “He’ll want to strike before the elves are ready. So we have to stop him before it goes any further.”

“Stop him?” I asked quietly.

“Preemptive strike. The most successful battles are fought from the inside.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “You’re going back.”

“Returning to Regor now would be suicide.” Tam flashed a grin. “I’ve been dead once; it’s not an experience I plan to repeat anytime soon.”

“But you just said ‘from the inside.’ ”

“With like-minded goblins and allies here on Mid. The island’s neutrality makes it perfect for clandestine meetings.”

I glanced at Mychael.

“Sathrik has openly threatened the Isle of Mid and our people unless we return Sarad Nukpana’s body.”

I had an unwanted flashback to Janos Ghalfari’s reanimated corpse grinning at me. “We definitely don’t want to gift wrap that thing and send it to Sathrik.”

“No, we don’t,” Mychael agreed. “The Guardians are a peace-keeping force, and we will keep the peace whatever the means. We are also the keepers and protectors of the Saghred. Anyone who attempts to remove the stone from this island is fair game.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Markus Sevelien likes it even better. And since it is in the best interests of both the elven and goblin peoples that the Saghred not fall into Sarad Nukpana’s or King Sathrik’s hands, Markus has requested a meeting with Imala Kalis to negotiate and reach certain agreements.”

I looked at Tam. “And you’re going to be smack-dab in the middle.”

“I have a responsibility to my people—and to my son. A reign under Sathrik and Sarad would mean death, not only for the goblin people, but for elves and humans alike. Talon and others like him would be slaughtered or worse. It has to stop. Now. I will not stand by while others fight my battle. I not only know Sarad’s plans; I know how he thinks. That makes me the best qualified to stop him.”

I blew out my breath. “Okay, then. Besides me, Mychael, and Imala, who else has got your back?”

Tam went as still as a statue.

“Don’t give me that look,” I told him. “If this is anyone’s battle, it’s mine. I’m in it with you.” I flashed a fierce grin. “You’re not the only one who wants a piece of Sarad Nukpana.”

“As to my allies, not everyone at the goblin court wants my head on a platter,” Tam told me. “Many of them are from the old families, powerful and influential. Imala has been cultivating even more allies. And as Sathrik’s behavior has grown increasingly erratic, even those publicly allied with him would change their allegiance if a better and stronger candidate presented himself.”

I knew exactly where this was going. “Prince Chigaru Mal’Salin.”

I didn’t like the prince. It wasn’t easy to forgive someone who had used Piaras as bait to kidnap me and then threatened him with torture to get me to find the Saghred for him. Somehow I didn’t think his manners had improved any since then. The prince was cunning, manipulative, and ruthless, and conspiracies and plots were recreational activities. In other words, a Mal’Salin. But he could be reasoned with and he wasn’t nuts. Those were two distinctions that his brother couldn’t claim.

“What would Sathrik have to say about you impersonating his right-hand mage?” I asked Tam.

“Sathrik is presently without a right-hand mage.”

I arched a brow. “He never gave Nukpana the job?”

“Sarad being the high priest of the Khrynsani would have been a conflict of interest—and too many powerful nobles would have objected. Sathrik couldn’t risk it.”

“And if Sathrik knew that legally you were still his chief mage?”

Tam smiled. “His Majesty would have a royal apoplexy.”

“That’d be fun to watch.”

“Yes, it would. Then he’d send every assassin he could hire, bribe, or blackmail after me.”

I frowned. “How loyal are your dark mage friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“If Sathrik sends hired blades after you, any goblin who defends you is committing treason. Are they loyal to you or their own necks?”

Tam gave a short laugh. “They won’t see why they can’t do both.”

“How about Talon?”

Mychael and Tam exchanged amused glances.

“What have you done to the kid?” Though if Talon hadn’t gone running off, he wouldn’t have gotten himself captured by Sarad Nukpana, Tam wouldn’t have gone looking for his son, and Nukpana wouldn’t have caught and possessed Tam.

And I wouldn’t have had to kill Tam.

My fingers started curling into fists. “Let me rephrase that—what can I do to the kid?”

Tam’s black eyes glittered mischievously. “At this very moment, Talon is being instructed that his actions, no matter how well intentioned, can have fatal consequences, and not only to him. He is also being encouraged to recognize the difference between right and wrong, or at least grow something that faintly resembles a conscience.”

I grinned. “He’s here in the citadel, isn’t he?”

“With Piaras,” Mychael confirmed. “Piaras’s tutors are now Talon’s tutors. Justinius and Ronan are helping.”

I whistled. “I’ll bet Talon doesn’t consider any of it helpful.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Tam said. “But it’s needed. I’ve been teaching him how to fight, but he needs to learn more—and he needs more discipline than I can provide.” He sighed, then drew in a slow breath. “When I look at Talon, I see myself at his age. He’s coming into his full power entirely too fast, just like I did. I will not have him go down the dark path that I did. I thought I could handle it all myself, but I was wrong.”

“Reining in and properly focusing impulsive young talent is what Guardians do best,” Mychael said with a slight smile.

And it had taken more than reining in to keep Talon from following us the day we’d chased Tam/Nukpana in that coach. Dad had more than had his hands full. From what I heard, it’d taken three good-sized Guardians, plus Piaras, to hold the kid down. Dad suspected something bad was going to happen to Tam, and knew that his son most definitely did not need to see it. Me shooting his father down in the street certainly qualified. Grateful didn’t even begin to describe what I felt for those Guardians who’d essentially sat on Talon.

“Anyone that comes after me will also consider Talon a target.” Tam’s jaw clenched and his tone turned cold with anger. “And as a half-breed, Talon has no rights under goblin law. If he was caught, Sathrik could legally do anything with him that he wanted. I’ve asked Mychael and he has agreed to accept Talon as a provisional cadet. After three months of training, he’ll be evaluated, and if he is deemed worthy, he’ll be accepted as a full cadet.”

I nodded in approval. “And he would be under Guardian protection and law.”

“As a provisional cadet, he is now,” Mychael said.

“Elves don’t recognize his existence,” Tam said. “Goblins despise him. This was the only legal step I could take to protect my son.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Now that Talon’s as safe as he can be, what exactly is it that you’re going to do?”

Tam’s smile was a baring of fangs. “It’ll be like just another day on my old job: destroy an archenemy, depose a king, and put an exiled prince on the throne.”