Magic Lost, Trouble Found

Chapter 21

The goblin prince and I shared a dilemma.

We were in a room full of guards loyal to Sathrik Mal’Salin and neither one of us wanted to draw attention to ourselves. His grip on me, while tight, was such that it wasn’t visible to anyone. I could have twisted free, but that would draw attention. And if he tried to stab me, I was definitely going to draw attention. Mychael was ready to attack if the prince so much as breathed wrong.

So there we were—all of us wanting to move, but none of us daring to. At least not yet.

Strangely enough, I was as relaxed as I had been all evening. Maybe it was that I’d been in a similar situation with the goblin prince before and I’d come out of that still breathing. Maybe it was the relief of something happening that didn’t involve Sarad Nukpana. I didn’t know. Whatever it was, the tension drained from my body. Prince Chigaru sensed the change and pressed the blade tighter to my side. That really didn’t bother me either. With all the whale boning in my bodice and corset, he’d have had an easier job getting through plate armor. I even felt a little smile coming on.

“So, do you have a plan?” I asked him. I sounded almost cheerful.

My question and attitude took him by surprise.

“You will give me the beacon,” he demanded.

There were definite advantages to having an absurdly tight bodice—and a beacon that refused to leave. I looked down just to make sure. Nope, nothing was coming up through that cleavage.

I almost laughed. “I’m afraid that’s not physically possible.”

His grip tightened. He had to have expected my response, but it didn’t make him any happier to hear it.

He looked down to where the diamond chain vanished between my breasts. I didn’t like that look one bit. Mychael didn’t either. He took two steps toward us.

The goblin prince pulled me back against him. “No closer.”

Mychael stopped. His eyes flicked to something just past my left shoulder. I was betting I’d only need one guess—Prince Chigaru’s friends wanted to keep him company. Vegard was keeping me company, too—from a discreet distance. He stayed put, for now. Too much of a crowd would draw attention we did not want.

“You are wearing the beacon,” Chigaru said. “You will remove it. Now.”

“We’ve been over this before, Your Highness. I take the beacon off, I die.”

He pressed the dagger harder against my bodice. “The same is true if you refuse.”

He had me there.

“A lady dying in your arms isn’t the kind of attention you want to attract,” Mychael said, his voice soft and low.

Magic spun into the air at the sound of his voice. He risked detection, but with a dagger against my ribs, so did I. I wasn’t going to die quietly. Mychael’s casting was for the prince’s ears only, but that didn’t stop goosebumps from prickling at the back of my neck—though that could have been as much from the goblin’s warm breath and the proximity of his fangs to my throat, as from Mychael’s voice.

A slight figure appeared by the prince’s side, on the edge of my vision. I didn’t have to see her clearly to know who she was.

“There need not be violence.” Primari A’Zahra Nuru’s voice was quiet, but firm. “We can reach a compromise.”

A quartet of the king’s guards were beginning to look entirely too interested in us.

“But not here,” she urged. “Into the gardens, quickly.”

The possibility of being dragged into the bushes by a goblin prince was one of the reasons why noble elven ladies feared foliage. Who knew it’d happen to me?

“Or I could just scream now and save us all the trouble,” I said. “Dying isn’t agreeable to me, regardless of how or where it happens.”

In an instant, Prince Chigaru shifted his grip from my arm to my waist, pulling me tight against him. The dagger’s pressure never lessened. “Then we will all die at the hands of my brother’s guards.”

“Your brother has never seen my face,” I told him, talking fast behind my fan. “Nukpana isn’t here. No one has ever seen the Countess of Eilde. I’m safe. I can’t say the same for you.”

“Peace, both of you,” Primari Nuru snapped. “All of you. We share the same goal; threatening each other does nothing to help us reach it. Please, let us all step outside.”

In my experience, an invitation to step outside has never been a good thing. That it came from a goblin primari did nothing to change my opinion.

The king’s guards making their way toward us through the press of guests might believe that I was the Countess of Eilde, but there would be questions, especially since I was in the immediate vicinity of a renegade goblin prince. His arm was locked around my waist. How much more immediate could you get? They didn’t know he was the prince. Yet. But ordering him to remove his mask would change our status pretty quick. Questions or detention meant delays. We couldn’t afford any delays.

“May we be of service, my lady?” one of them asked.

I sank back against Prince Chigaru’s chest and weakly fluttered my fan back and forth. “Thank you, but no. A warm night and too much dancing.” I offered a wan smile for their benefit. “And far too much excitement.”

The guard glanced curiously at the prince. I didn’t wait for his question.

“This gallant gentleman was kind enough to remain with me until my husband returned with refreshments. We’re old friends.” I reached up with my free hand and patted the goblin prince on the cheek.

I felt rather than heard the growl rumble low in the prince’s chest. I took the hint and removed my hand, but I took my time doing it.

Mychael stepped in close, putting himself in the line of vision between the Mal’Salin captain and Prince Chigaru. “A Caesolian red always works wonders, doesn’t it, my love?”

I smiled up at him. “Almost always.”

I took the glass in one hand and Mychael’s extended hand in the other. He drew me away, and Prince Chigaru had no choice but to release me. He sheathed the dagger behind his back and no one was any the wiser.

I took a healthy swig of wine as I stepped into the circle of Mychael’s arms. “Thank you, darling. I feel better already.”

“The cool air of the gardens will do you a world of good, my dear,” the primari suggested, looking every bit like the gallant gentleman’s maiden aunt.

I nodded. “I think that’s exactly what I need.”

Mychael held out his other hand to Primari Nuru, in courtly fashion. “Will you allow me to escort you, my lady?”

To the primari’s credit, she didn’t hesitate before placing her hand in Mychael’s. The Guardian’s hand closed over it. The prince drew in his breath with a hiss. Someone didn’t like his teacher’s decision.

Mychael and I, along with the primari, led the way onto the terrace, followed by Vegard and Prince Chigaru. Four of Chigaru’s goblin guards followed at a discreet distance. I recognized two of them from The Ruins. From the murderous looks I was getting, they remembered me, too. Once again I was going to be in a garden with goblins who didn’t like me.

Being outside was a definite improvement. If there was going to be violence, at least there was more room for it. What made me feel even better was Garadin holding the door open for us, drink in hand, looking completely relaxed. I knew the truth. He was relaxed because he was confident. Garadin had a spell that could take out everyone on the terrace. Piaras and Riston were waiting near the stone stairs leading down into the gardens. Piaras recognized our new friends. He started to come to me, but Garadin’s cautioning gesture stopped him.

“We need to leave the terrace, or disperse,” I said to no one in particular. “Both would be nice.”

“There is a gazebo in the center of the garden,” Mychael said. “It should give us the privacy we need to reach an equitable solution. The others could wait within sight and earshot for security purposes. Is that agreeable?”

“I don’t think that’s agreeable to anyone,” I said. “But right now, I’ll settle for just getting off this terrace.”

Under congenial circumstances, the gazebo would have been a perfectly lovely place for a quiet talk, or for two lovers to steal a few secretive moments together. Unfortunately neither description applied to us. Garadin, Piaras and the two Guardians waited near a small rose garden about ten feet behind us. Chigaru’s guards were at a similar distance in the opposite direction.

In a rustle of gossamer fabric, the primari seated herself on one of the stone benches. Prince Chigaru stood behind the bench at her right shoulder, his dark eyes still on me. I opted to remain standing, my eyes more or less even with his. Somehow I felt safer that way.

“You should not have come tonight, my primari,” the prince told the tiny goblin. “It is not safe for you here.”

“And your safety is assured?” she shot back, though not unkindly. “You should not worry about me.” She reached up and affectionately patted the prince’s hand on her shoulder. “Has Mistress Benares agreed to assist us?”

“We were just getting to that,” the goblin prince said.

“Perhaps I might help.”

Getting to that? Might help? This was all too strange for me. The prince made it sound as though we had just taken a pleasant turn around the dance floor, and now I felt like I was about to be interrogated by someone’s elderly grandmother.

I stood straighter, not that I had much choice in that dress. “You have a strange way of asking for help, Your Highness.” I turned to the primari. “Two nights ago, he ordered a friend of mine kidnapped to use as bait to catch me. I was told he would be killed unless I cooperated. We were then tied up, and taken against our wills into The Ruins where your darling prince threatened my friend with torture unless I agreed to help him find the Saghred.”

“Was any undue violence or coercion used against you or your friend?” Chigaru asked mildly.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I heard Piaras’s gasp of disbelief behind me.

“Undue violence?” My voice went up a couple of octaves. I couldn’t help it. “As opposed to justifiable?”

The goblin prince shook his head. “Merely necessary.”

“The ends justify the means?”

He almost smiled. “Precisely. So you do understand.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Raine,” Mychael said by way of warning.

I shot him a look, then took a breath and blew it out. I continued, but quieter. “Then tonight, His Most Serene Highness sticks a dagger in my ribs and says that unless I help him, he’ll kill me. Perhaps this type of behavior isn’t serious to a goblin, but we elves take that kind of thing personally. I know I do.”

The look the primari gave the prince was the same one Tarsilia gave Piaras when she caught him sneaking cookies before supper. Then the tiny goblin shook her head and actually made tsking sounds.

“He acted out of concern for our people,” she tried to assure me. “His methods may seem somewhat questionable, but his heart is in the right place.”

I was flabbergasted. “He has one?”

“It might be an appropriate time to apologize, dear,” Primari Nuru told the prince.

It was his turn to look appalled. I had to admit he did it well. He probably had a lot of practice.

He drew himself up imperiously. “For doing my duty as a prince of my people? For which I was viciously attacked.” He shot a scathing look at Piaras.

Piaras responded with a low growl, but from the sounds of things, Garadin and the two Guardians kept him from joining us.

“For not taking into consideration the sensibilities of your guests,” Primari Nuru helpfully clarified for him.

Prince Chigaru thought about that for a moment. Regardless of how he had considered us—guests or prisoners—it was clear that making apologies wasn’t something he had much, if any, experience with. He looked at me and cleared his throat. Then he stopped and thought some more. I knew this wasn’t easy for him, but unlike the primari, I wasn’t feeling particularly helpful. I was willing to wait as long as it took. I resisted the urge to cross my arms and tap my foot.

The prince cleared his throat again. This time, words actually made it out.

When he had finished, it sounded like an apology. It had all the right words, and they almost sounded sincere, but somehow the phrasing was off. In the end, I don’t think he accepted the blame for anything.

“Was that an apology?” I whispered to Mychael.

“It’s probably as good as you’re going to get.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Should I take it?”

“It might speed things up if you did.”

I took a moment to think, too. To my credit, I didn’t take as long as the prince.

“Do you promise not to try to kill or torture me or my friends ever again?” I thought for another moment. “Or order anyone else to kill or torture us, or betray us to anyone who would want to kill or torture us?” I was proud of the last two. I think I was getting the hang of how the Mal’Salin mind worked.

Mychael leaned toward me. “Don’t you think you’re being a trifle excessive?”

I didn’t even have to look at Chigaru Mal’Salin to know the answer to that one.

“No.”

To the prince’s credit, he responded almost immediately. “Barring betrayal on your part, or on the part of your friends—or another attack upon my person,” he said with a meaningful glance in Piaras’s direction. “Yes, you have my word.”

“We shake hands on it now, don’t we?” I asked Mychael, without enthusiasm.

“It is the accepted way to seal a pact.”

I only had to take one step to be in the center of the gazebo. The goblin prince had to take two. I know; it was petty of me to notice. I extended my hand. He took it. I was almost surprised when he released it.

“Well, we’ve agreed not to kill each other,” I said. “Now what?”

The prince answered. “We find the Saghred before my brother and Sarad Nukpana.”

I blinked. “We?”

The prince’s eyes narrowed. “We.”

“And when we do?”

“That is what we must now agree upon.”

“Any chance of you and yours going back to The Ruins and letting us take care of this?”

The prince’s eyes hardened resolutely. “None whatsoever.”

I shrugged. “I had to try.”

Mychael spoke. “As Paladin of the Conclave Guardians, my duty is clear—restore the security of the Saghred to prevent its use. By anyone,” he added meaningfully.

He’d get no argument from me.

“Mistress Benares is able to use it most effectively.” The prince’s tone stopped just short of being accusing. I saw where this was going.

“Against my will,” I told him. “The last thing I want is a connection of any kind with something known as the Soul Thief. Sarad Nukpana is holding a dear friend of mine hostage. He wants the beacon and the Saghred in exchange for her release.”

The prince bristled. “You are going to give it to him?”

“Of course not,” I shot back. “And I don’t believe for one second that he actually plans to keep his word. I’m here tonight to help Paladin Eiliesor recover the Saghred.”

A’Zahra Nuru’s eyes had rarely left me. They were now focused where the beacon lay beneath my bodice. I saw mild surprise mixed with relief in her eyes. The beacon fluttered against my skin in response to her attention. I waited for the inevitable request.

“Do you have a blood link to its creator?” she asked gently.

That wasn’t the request I expected. Requests from goblins concerning the beacon usually began with “give” and ended with “now.” I had to admit it was a refreshing change.

Mychael responded before I could. “That has yet to be established.”

Not a lie. Not the truth, either. Apparently the paladin thought the fewer who knew my family history, the better. Considering who wanted to know, I agreed with him.

A’Zahra Nuru was still looking at me. “You do not seem to have experienced any adverse effects from its use.”

It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer.

“What is your proposal, Your Highness?” Mychael asked the prince.

I welcomed the change of topic.

“The Guardians have failed in their duty,” Chigaru said without hesitation. “The Thief of Souls is too dangerous to be left in the custody of your order. As long as it is, there will be a danger of it being found and misused by those such as my brother or Sarad Nukpana.”

I’d heard enough. “Or yourself? To use against your brother?”

“The Thief of Souls cannot be wielded,” Primari Nuru said. “It brings madness and death to any who try. You are the first known exception. The stone’s very existence is an abomination.”

I already knew all that, and really didn’t want to be reminded with the rock itself probably less than a hundred yards away.

Mychael spoke. “In the nine hundred years since my order took the Saghred into our keeping has it ever been taken or used again for evil purposes?”

Prince Chigaru stood mute.

Mychael tactfully didn’t directly mention the single recorded use of the Saghred—by the prince’s own ancestor, whom the Guardians defeated. Subsequently, they took protective custody of the stone.

“Nine hundred years isn’t too shabby a record, Your Highness,” I said quietly. “Why don’t you just let these gentlemen do their job?”

The prince was as still as the marble statues in the garden, his dark eyes on Mychael. “You question my motives because I am a Mal’Salin.” It wasn’t a question. He knew the answer.

“Yes,” Mychael replied truthfully. “I do. But my main concern is for your present circumstances. You are still gathering allies with which to overthrow your brother. I wish you well and hope that you succeed. Your people will suffer under your brother’s rule. But for now, yours is a young government in exile. You may have the means to acquire the Saghred, but you lack the experience and—no insult intended—the strength needed to protect it. There is also the temptation to use the stone, if not by you, then by your allies. You trust them to help you defeat the king, but can you trust them near the Saghred?”

The prince placed his hand on A’Zahra Nuru’s slender shoulder. “When I first learned my brother’s plans, I will admit the temptation to use the Saghred against him was strong. But Primari Nuru has convinced me that I must choose another way.”

Good for her.

“Using the Saghred would only turn me into that which I have sworn to destroy,” he continued. “It may take longer to defeat Sathrik, but my allies grow more numerous and stronger every day. In the end, I will prevail. If I do not, Sathrik would use the Saghred against our own people and yours. He must not possess it.”

“Then we are in agreement,” Mychael said. “Allow me to carry out the duty of my office unimpeded.”

When the paladin stopped talking, the rest of us started holding our breath. To his credit, the prince seemed to give honest consideration to Mychael’s words.

“Is there any assistance either I or my people might offer you?” Chigaru asked.

I started breathing again, and I think I heard A’Zahra Nuru do the same.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Mychael said, with a slight smile. “Yes, there is one thing I may need your help with.”

I had to consider the possibility that Chigaru Mal’Salin may not have inherited all the personality defects his family tree had to offer. The primari thought the world of her prince. Tam trusted A’Zahra. I trusted Tam. Completing the circle shouldn’t be difficult, but it was.

“Excuse me, Your Highness, but I have a question,” I asked.

“Yes?”

“The Saghred isn’t all your brother and Sarad Nukpana want this evening. Does your agreement to help Paladin Eiliesor extend to me and mine?”

“I understand that having you and your spellsinger at his mercy would please Sarad Nukpana and my brother. My brother and I have long enjoyed depriving each of what makes the other happy. Preventing my brother from capturing the two of you would greatly annoy him.” He smiled. It was genuine, and it transformed his face with almost boyish glee. “This would please me.”

It wasn’t exactly the I’m-your-ally-now-and-you-can-trust-me answer I was looking for, but who am I to deny a goblin prince the simple joys of life?