Reader and Raelynx (29 page)

“I don’t think so,” she whispered. “I think it’s all the same.” She kissed him hard; her hands tightened, and the two of them tumbled back onto the blanket. “Love me, Cammon,” she said. “Please show me how it goes.”

And so he showed her. Or at least he showed her the little that he knew, though they both rapidly learned new tricks and pleasures. Amalie’s skin glowed white in the darkness; her hair was radiant. The fire died down but the incandescence of her body brightened the longer that he loved her. The whole room was bathed in the soft light of her contentment. Or maybe it was just that he could see nothing but Amalie, and his eyes had been bespelled by love.

A
messenger from Halchon Gisseltess arrived in the morning, and every key member of the royal household spent the day huddled in conferences. Milo told Cammon that he would not be needed until the evening and he should find some useful way to employ his time.

“What did the messenger say?” Cammon wanted to know, but Milo, of course, would not repeat it.

So Cammon headed down to the training yards, where the Riders were engaged in mock combat. It took a while to isolate Justin, who was deep in a furious battle against Coeval, while just a few paces away, Hammond and Wen tried to cut each other down. All the Riders were strung tight with tension. More than one, Cammon could tell, wished war was upon them already.
Enough of this damn waiting! Time to fight! We’re ready!

But no one was ever really ready for war, Cammon thought.

Justin was covered with sweat, despite the chill, when he finally took a break. He pushed back his sandy hair, wet and ragged, and accepted the canteen of water Cammon handed him. “What was the message from Halchon Gisseltess?” Cammon asked.

Justin downed the entire contents of the canteen in five swallows. “He offered to meet with Baryn a week from now to discuss a ‘peaceful settlement of our differences.’”

“Will the king do it?”

“No. Too much danger in leaving the palace and heading to a rendezvous with a man who’s already said he wants you dead. The marlord would have nothing to lose by killing the king without a parley.”

“Does that mean the Gisseltess forces will attack us at the end of the week?”

Justin gave him a sober look. “Or before. The deadline may have been set to make us believe we had that much time.” He handed back the empty canteen. “Spies in Fortunalt tell us the foreign soldiers have landed, all of them dressed in Arberharst colors. A small force could make it to Ghosenhall in a week, though it would take longer to march a full army this far.”

Cammon shuddered. “I kept thinking that war wouldn’t really come.”

“But it has,” Justin said. “When will Tayse and Senneth be back?”

“Tonight, I think. Or tomorrow morning.”

Justin grasped his sword again. “Well, war better not strike until they return.”

Cammon watched the workout a while longer, declined the opportunity to join in, and drifted back toward the palace. But Amalie was still closeted with her father. There was no hope of seeing her, even in a public setting. He sent a thought to her, just a remembrance, to let her know he was thinking about her. He caught her start of happiness when she perceived it.

Oh, she was the easiest girl in the whole world to love, because she took such delight in it; and he would never be able to love anyone else so much; and surely she would break his heart in so many tiny pieces that not the brightest display of moonlight would be able to pick them out and infuse them with remembered brilliance. But despite all that, he could not wish last night undone—despite all that, he could not stop hoping there would be other nights ahead just like it.

He was too restless and too close to miserable to linger around the palace. He left the grounds and spent part of the day helping Lynnette with chores while Jerril was away training the Carrebos mystics. He spent another hour just prowling through the city. He had some vague idea of buying Amalie a gift, but what could she possibly want from him, this girl who received fabulous presents from serramar across the kingdom? It was sheer luck that drew his attention to a glitter of metal in the street, and he stooped down to retrieve a very paltry treasure indeed—a silver coin crushed and reshaped by the wheels of a passing carriage. Smiling, he pocketed it and went whistling down the street.

D
INNER
was a small and grim affair, with no true outsiders at the table, but Cammon took his accustomed place among the footmen because no one had told him otherwise. Before the diners arrived, he tucked the ruined coin under the plate at Amalie’s place, and as soon as she sat down, he silently bade her to look for it. She bit her lip to keep from smiling as she slipped it into her pocket.

Tonight?
he asked. She replied in a wavering but clearly disappointed negative.

Soon, then,
he said, and that made her smile again.

She disappeared with Valri, Baryn, and Romar Brendyn once the meal was over. Cammon headed down to Justin’s to await the arrival of Senneth and the others.

“Senneth will be interested to hear that one of her new mystics caught Ellynor this morning,” Justin said.

“Turned himself into a raelynx,” Ellynor confirmed. “He couldn’t find me when he was in any other shape.”

“Makes sense,” Cammon said. “Become a Lirren animal to catch a Lirren woman.”

“But the true question is, what kind of animals would catch spies from overseas?” Justin asked. “Since we’re not as worried about Lirrenfolk at the moment.”

“Oh, now I suppose you want me to remember some kind of bird or dog that can only be found in Arberharst,” Cammon said.

“Well, you might try to make yourself useful once in a while,” Justin answered with a grin.

“The princess says there’s a library full of books at the palace,” Cammon answered. “Maybe we can find some with pictures of exotic creatures.”

Ellynor settled next to Justin. “Will a mystic from Gillengaria be able to take the shape of an animal from another country?” she asked.

“Maybe not,” Cammon said. “But it might be worth a try.”

They kicked around other ideas, tried to guess what Halchon Gisseltess’s next move would be, and wondered what his sister, Coralinda, would be up to now.

“She’s not just sitting quietly in the convent,” Ellynor said positively. “She hates mystics too much. She’s planning to join this fight.”

“Then we have to plan how to stop her,” Justin said.

During their entire conversation, Cammon was tracking the progress of the travelers. He wasn’t good with geography or distance, but he could tell they were steadily drawing nearer. “Almost here,” he said when they crossed into the city and began angling down for a landing. Passing the wall that surrounded the palace grounds, gliding low over the barracks. He flung open the door and dashed out as two owls softly landed and deposited small burdens to the ground.

And then Senneth and Tayse were standing there, and Kirra and Donnal. All seven of them, gathered together again. For a moment, Cammon almost felt whole.

Till he realized there was a part of him that was now missing, and would always be missing, unless Amalie was in the room, too, and that for the rest of his life he would be incomplete, no matter how close he could hold the rest of his friends.

S
ENNETH
had spent the morning with the king, relaying her story. Cammon waited for her outside the study door, and he followed her the rest of the day. There was a great deal to tell her, though, of course, he didn’t repeat the most important news.
Senneth, I’ve become Amalie’s lover
. No, he told her how he had watched the battle at Danan Hall through four sets of eyes, how he had felt similar skirmishes unfolding across the kingdom. Indeed, the messengers from Kianlever and Coravann had already arrived bearing the grim news. Slaughter at the Houses, followed immediately by outrage and fear. Eloise Kianlever had sustained heavy losses but reported that some of her most loyal vassals had ridden to her aid.

“And she says she’ll be sending troops to Ghosenhall,” Senneth added. “And part of me thinks, ‘Defend yourself! Even if the royal city falls!’ It’s what Malcolm would tell her. But I’m afraid we’ll need her troops.”

“Don’t leave again,” Cammon said to her.

She gave him a sad smile. “Not to save Brassen Court itself. I am here till the city surrenders or triumphs.”

They spent part of the afternoon with Jerril and some of the shape-shifters Senneth had recruited from Carrebos. Jerril was pleased with their progress and told Senneth three times how they had sniffed out Ellynor even when she was cloaked deep in Lirren magic. “What about the others?” she asked him. “Are they trainable?”

Jerril gave her an affable smile. “Indeed, they have both ability and eagerness. If I had a year—”

“You might have three days,” she interrupted.

“They will be at your disposal whenever you need them.”

Cammon had spent some energy cloaking his own thoughts from Jerril, but that didn’t stop the older mystic from giving him a few curious looks. Jerril was sensitive enough to pick up the gist of the story, Cammon thought—and smart enough not to ask questions in front of Senneth.

“I’m not entirely sure how one deploys a mystic army,” Senneth said.

“I imagine you tell them broadly what you wish they would accomplish, and then let them go,” Jerril replied. “It’s not like you can send them into battle in formation.”

“What do you think about this?” Senneth asked him, and launched into a discussion of strategy.

Cammon stopped paying attention. He heard a door open on the far side of Ghosenhall. Or—not exactly. He felt a brush of wind as if someone had walked past him at a rapid pace. That wasn’t it, either. There was a moment of silence in a crowded room. There was a glint of metal from a weapon smoothly drawn.

There was nothing. No sound, no movement. Just a cool day on a brown field where a few green stalks of grass were pushing their way up through the hard ground.

When Cammon focused on his surroundings again, Jerril was watching him strangely. “What is it?” the other mystic asked.

Cammon shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Jerril’s question had caught Senneth’s attention. “What? Did you sense something?”

“Not exactly. At least—I can’t identify it.”

“Danger?” she asked. “A new assassin come to town? That would make sense, from Halchon’s point of view.”

Cammon spread his hands. “Usually I can sense violent intent, but—did a stranger just ride into Ghosenhall? I don’t know. Something
slipped
, that’s all I can tell you. Something shifted.”

“Something magical?” Jerril asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Something anti-magical, perhaps,” Senneth said. “That’s what happens when Halchon Gisseltess touches me. I lose all my power. It’s like he cancels me out. Maybe something like that?”

“Maybe,” Cammon said uncertainly. He looked at Jerril. “Did you feel anything?”

Jerril shook his head. “You’re far stronger than I am. If you can’t read it—”

“But you have more experience than I do! Just concentrate. It seemed like—a door opened. Or closed. Or someone walked by. Somewhere in the city.”

Jerril turned his hands palm upward, then took a deep breath and let his mind expand. Cammon mentally followed that journey, tagging along beside the older mystic, peering around the corners and down the alleys that caught Jerril’s attention. There it was again—a silence that filled with echoes, a scent that dissipated too quickly to be analyzed.

“That,” Cammon whispered. “Did you catch it?”

Jerril nodded and let his mind snap back. Senneth was watching both of them with her gray eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what it is,” Jerril admitted. “I don’t even know if it’s dangerous.” He glanced at Senneth. “If I were a hare, I’d say the shadow of a hawk had passed over the ground.”

“I’m telling Tayse that something alarming has come into the city, but nobody knows what,” she said, already striding off. “We will act as if the city is full of enemies.”

Cammon was left staring at Jerril. “But it might not be.”

Jerril shrugged. “But it will be soon enough.”

W
ITHIN
the hour, the Riders had mobilized. Two each had been assigned to stand over Baryn, Valri, and Amalie; twenty had been dispatched to roam the streets of Ghosenhall, looking for anything untoward. The rest of them roved over the palace grounds like guard dogs let loose, randomly and ceaselessly patrolling.

Naturally, it was impossible for Cammon to creep to Amalie’s room or hope she might sneak up to his when she was being constantly guarded by Coeval and Janni. Janni even spent the night inside Amalie’s room, wide awake, watching at the window.

Everyone was edgy the following morning, even the imperturbable Milo. “Make yourself useful in some fashion,” Milo said when Cammon asked for orders, and then he stalked off.

Cammon found Valri, Amalie, Belinda Brendyn, Justin, and three other Riders preserving an uneasy silence in the rose parlor. Amalie sent him a look of mute appeal when he stepped inside, but Cammon stopped first to speak to Justin.

“Nothing happened? No news?”

Justin shook his head. “Tayse walked the grounds all night and found nothing but your shape-shifters awake. He’s sleeping for a few hours now, but he’ll be up again around noon.”

“Maybe I imagined something. Maybe—I just can’t tell.”

Now Justin gave him that cocky grin. “You saying trouble might be coming is like Donnal saying he can turn himself into a wolf. It’s true. It’s guaranteed.”

“Who’s with Baryn?”

“Tir and Wen.”

“Are you guarding Valri or Amalie?”

“The princess.”

“Maybe we could go outside. Walk around the grounds for a bit.”

Amalie heard that and broke off a low conversation with Belinda to answer. “Oh, yes, please, can we go outside? I think I’ll start screaming if I just sit here any longer, imagining terrors.”

“They’re not imaginary, Majesty,” Justin said.

“The real ones could hardly be worse than the ones in my head.”

Amalie fetched a cloak while Justin eyed Cammon with disapproval. “Where are your weapons?”

“I don’t keep a sword. I always borrow one from the Riders.”

“Well, you need to be armed. All the time. Even in the palace.”

Amalie arrived in time to hear that. “Then let’s head down toward the barracks.”