The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) (23 page)

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Authors: Honor Raconteur

Tags: #mystery, #curse, #Magic, #YA, #Artifactor, #Fantasy, #Honor Raconteur, #Young Adult, #the artifactor, #adventure, #female protagonist, #Fiction

BOOK: The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2)
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The count led them around the half-spiraling staircase and
toward the back of the house. His office took up most of the ground floor, as
several people worked at long tables, all of them coordinating information and
trade agreements for the market. Stepping inside of his office felt like
entering a war room, as everyone talked over each other, papers being handed
off to others, all of it coordinated by specific officers. Sevana always felt
upon seeing this flurry of activity that many a government could learn how to
properly organize and run a country by just observing here for a day.

De Luca led them past all of this, without even a glance to
either side, and through the open doors on the other side, into a comfortably
intimate room with a small arrangement of chairs that looked remarkably
inviting. Despite the modesty of this room compared to the rest of the mansion,
Sevana knew without a doubt that
this
was the true hub of the count’s
little empire. Many a deal had been brokered in this room.

He escorted her properly to a chair and promptly took the one
right next to hers, turning so that he was a scant few inches away. As long as
he didn’t try to capitalize on that distance, she’d let him hover. Sarsen,
prudently, sat on the other side of her.

“Now, no one could give me an accurate description of what
this artifact looks like,” de Luca continued with uncommon seriousness. “I only
know what it
does
and you’re right to be worried about it falling into
the wrong hands, beloved. I’ve had multiple inquiries already from interested
buyers and I wouldn’t trust any of them to look after my worst enemy.”

She rubbed her forehead, feeling the headache that had been
brewing for the past three days start up in earnest. “Then let me describe it.
It
was
in a black box roughly a foot squared with magical seals on it. If
it’s been freed of that box, then it looks rather like a porcelain vase,
standing so tall—” she demonstrated its length with her hands, “—that is hollow
all the way through. At either end, it flares out slightly. It’s a light gray
in color with beautiful white designs carved into the surface.”

As she spoke, the butler was quickly writing this down into
a small leather notebook. She took proper notice of the man for the first time.
Really, it was easy to overlook him. Standing barely taller than his master, he
had wispy hair and such a thin body that if he stood sideways, she was
convinced he’d disappear altogether. What was his name again? Edward, Edmond,
Edwin? Something like that.

“No magical glow or inherent power in it?” de Luca pressed.

“It did three days ago, after being active for months, but
now?” She spread her hands palm up in a shrug. “After being in the behave box,
it should be entirely dormant.” That was the whole reason they’d put it into
the box to begin with.

De Luca nodded to his butler—who likely ran the black market
more than he did the house—and the man scurried to the next room over, no doubt
to get people to start looking for something matching that description.

 Sevana itched to go out and explore the market herself, but
rationally she understood that sitting right here and waiting was really the
better option. Nothing happened in the market without de Luca knowing about it.
She could walk around that market and never find the gadgick. It’s why she had come
here to begin with.

De Luca captured one of her hands in both of his and leaned
in slightly, a seductive gleam in his eyes. “While we wait, beloved, may I
express how heartrendingly beautiful you appear to me?”

She rolled her eyes to the heavens with a fervent prayer
that they find the gadgick soon. Otherwise she’d be forced to kill this idiot, self-imposed
bribe notwithstanding.

“What say you, Sarsen?” de Luca asked with unnatural
enthusiasm. “You’ve been doing nothing but sitting about on that flying
contraption for the past two days, I’m sure you’d like to let loose a little.”

Sevana’s problem with the black market count never happened
in the first few minutes of the exchange. At first he seemed normal, if
overbearing, and perhaps a bit too overly familiar in his approach. Then again,
with women often flocking to him, he typically didn’t have to
woo
a
woman so his skills had never really fully developed there. No, the problem she
truly had always occurred about fifteen minutes after she was in his sphere of
influence.

Almost perfectly at the fifteen-minute mark, de Luca came up
with this harebrained scheme, and since Sarsen was handy, chose him to help put
it into motion. “It won’t be serious of course,” the count pressed. “We
wouldn’t want any injuries. Just some light play to get the blood flowing.”

Sevana silently asked any god that might be listening
why
she had to deal with this fool. Then she cocked her head to look at Sarsen,
who looked not only perturbed at the idea of mock-sword fighting with his host,
but also sorely tempted. (As well he should be. If Sevana had been in his
shoes, she certainly wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity to chase him around
the yard while waving a sword about!)

De Luca obviously wanted to do this to show off his skills
(he always tried to impress her) and thought that by showing up her friend,
he’d become more reliable in her eyes. But he was a pretty duelist who had
grown up with fine instructors who had never had to put his skills to the test.
Sarsen, on the other hand, fought regularly with demons, goblins, rogues,
thieves, and other threats of similar ilk. To call him a ‘master swordsman’
would be understating his skills.  It would not be a fair competition, not in
any sense.

Sarsen looked to Sevana for a second opinion, eyebrow
slightly cocked. She shrugged and mouthed silently, ‘Just don’t kill him.’

His lips parted in an evil grin. “Alright, de Luca, I don’t
see the harm.”

“Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together in open
anticipation before standing, his voice rising to call into the next room,
“EDWIN! MY SWORD!”

Edwin! That was it. Sevana usually had a good head for
names, but the man had so little presence that it made him completely
un-remember-able.

Sarsen hadn’t come in with his sword so he had to duck out
to the skimmer and fetch his as well. It was probably best that someone go
check on the skimmer at this point regardless. She had anti-theft and
anti-tampering wards up around it, but that didn’t mean that someone wouldn’t
try their hand at getting it. Sevana had never marketed this invention for the
simple reason that she wasn’t sure who to market it
to
. It took a master
magician at the very least, who understood how to navigate, in order to fly the
thing. Most magicians of that caliber already had other means of travel that
they were far more comfortable with. But all that meant was that a very rare
magical device sat in an open courtyard, and that was bound to attract unwanted
attention.

Nothing appeared to have happened to the skimmer as Sarsen
appeared untroubled when he came back in.

Within moments both men had their toys in hand and faced off
with each other in the side courtyard. She stood in the doorway and watched, as
a good trophy should, trying not to laugh at the whole situation. De Luca had
pulled many a stunt over the years trying to get her attention, but out of all
the things he had done, this one had to take the prize as the most ill-planned.

Both men drew their swords in a
shiiing
of sound as they
cleared the scabbards and assumed a guard position. At first glance, it looked
as if they were equally skilled. Then, without any signal whatsoever, de Luca
leaped forward to attack.

For a ‘mock-swordfight’ the pace was a mite too quick.
Sarsen parried the blows without any real effort, and while he was obviously paying
attention, he didn’t appear in the least interested in what de Luca would do
next. They exchanged several feints and parries, giving and losing ground
without consequence. Sevana shook her head slightly as she watched because even
from here she could tell Sarsen was barely using a third of his true strength.
This wasn’t even a contest.

From the corner of her eye she realized that Edwin the
butler hovered just behind her. Without turning her head she asked him, “Why
does your master do things like this? He’s too quick to jump into things.
Instead of impressing me, he’s going to get hurt.”

The butler sniffed in offense. “The master is a highly
capable swordsman.”

She turned to give him a flat look.
I now see the problem
.
Surrounded by people who only sung his praises, was it any wonder that de Luca
had an overly inflated opinion of himself?

A gasp for breath jerked her back around. De Luca didn’t
have the stamina Sarsen did, but he clearly realized the gap in their levels.
The smart thing to do would be to call a halt to this whole demonstration and
ease out of a potentially embarrassing situation. But men who had their blood
up rarely did the smart thing. Instead, in a frantic effort to win, de Luca
increased the speed of his blows in a desperate attempt to get past Sarsen’s
guard.

She swore aloud and sprung her wand free of her wrist guard.
At this rate, something would go very wrong very soon and she had best be
prepared to shield one or the other from danger.

De Luca shot forward, sword slashing toward Sarsen’s chest,
but in the process he overextended and she could see the sudden realization as
his eyes flew wide that he was precariously close to losing his balance. For a
split second, time seemed to slow as her adrenaline kicked in. Sarsen blocked
the strike, but in doing so, his sword was perfectly angled to slide along de
Luca’s sword and take the man’s head off. His speed would be nearly impossible
to stop.


TOETE NE FOLE
!”
she commanded sharply.

Both men froze in place, helpless to do otherwise. Only
their chests moved, dragging in air, and their eyes as they looked toward her.

“Alright, boys, playtime’s over.” She stalked forward and
snatched both swords out of their grips before ramming them home into their
respective scabbards. “No more sword fighting, mock or otherwise.”

Danger passed, she undid the spell and holstered the wand.

As soon as the count could move, he grabbed up her hand and
clasped it to his chest. With stars in his eyes, he crooned, “I knew it,
beloved. You care for me above anyone else! That you would go so far to protect
me—”

She ignored the prattling and tried to yank her hand free.
To no avail, curse it. He might be thin, but he was stronger than she.

“—I will accept a scolding for such a senseless display,” he
finished hopefully.

Sevana heaved out a breath. “De Luca. Make up your mind. Do
you want me as a lover or a mother?”

He blinked at her as if she had just asked a nonsensical
question. “Why as a lover, of course. But you are so fierce, so brilliant in
your anger that I find you awe-inspiring.”

Oh. Is that why he kept doing stupid things, so she’d
lecture him? Just how twisted was this man’s way of thinking?!

“Alright, de Luca, behave now.” Sarsen intervened and
dragged her free of him. In this particular moment, she saw nothing wrong with
using her friend as a shield and ducked behind him, letting him be exactly
that. “You lost the fight so you can’t monopolize her.”

De Luca raised a hand of outrage to cover his heart.
“You—you fiend! That was never a term of our duel!”

Sevana blinked, as this idea had never occurred to her. If
she challenged him to a duel (judging from what she saw of his sword skills,
she could probably beat him) and set the terms as he would not be able to court
her from now on, would that work? She ran the possible scenario through her
head and frowned at the conclusion. No, mercy take it, it probably wouldn’t. He
would either A) not agree as he would never be able to raise a sword against
her, or B) view the whole fight as a ‘scolding’ and get meaninglessly hyped up
about it to where she really would be forced to kill him.

Curses.

With evil delight, Sarsen wagged a finger at the count. “The
loser should obey the winner. It’s a natural law. Behave yourself around her,
that’s all I ask.”

De Luca actually
pouted
and gave her a longing look.
“My sweetness, this is too much to ask! After years apart, I finally see you,
and I am not allowed to touch? Oh, the unfairness of it rends my heart.”

With those sorts of acting skills, it was a shame he wasn’t
on a stage somewhere. “It won’t kill you,” she responded heartlessly.

His head lowered as he sighed. Then he perked up again.
“Still, you love me enough to come to my defense and shield me from danger. I
take that as a positive sign. I shall win your heart soon enough.”

I should have let Sarsen behead him
. She groaned
aloud. Too late to realize that now.

From the doorway, Edwin cleared his throat. “Forgive the
interruption, my lord, but we have received word that three articles matching
Mistress Sevana’s description have been located. I have their whereabouts
written here.” He held up a piece of paper in demonstration.

Three? Sevana blinked in confusion, but it didn’t take her
long to realize what had happened. “Forgeries? Already?”

“Forgeries at a black market are not a rarity, my sweet,” de
Luca responded as he accepted the paper from his butler.

“But
already?
” she objected, still astounded. “No one
but Master and I really got a good look at this thing before we sealed it in
the behave box. That means the gadgick has only been out, at most, for three
days! Just how fast can these forgers work that they can make a fake artifact
and put it on the market in
three days?”

De Luca found this amusing as he turned a smile on her. “My
dear, I can have a fake made of your flying machine done overnight if I so
wish. These forgers are not to be taken lightly.”

Obviously!

He skimmed over the parchment and frowned slightly. “Most of
these are close by. Shall we go investigate it ourselves?”

That did seem the fastest way. “Fine.”

He held out an elbow and waited expectantly. When she
hesitated, that pout of his returned. “I won’t go unless I can escort you.”

“De Luca…” Sarsen said in warning.

The man sniffed and turned his head away. “I won’t.”

What, was he a child? It was
this
erratic behavior
that she found so annoying. With a mental renewal of her promise to reward
herself after all of this was over, she managed to get a stranglehold on her
patience. Waving Sarsen down, she put her hand through the man’s elbow. Really,
if letting him escort her would get them in motion, she’d put up with it.

A brilliant smile lit up his face and he started for the
main door with a bounce in his stride. “Excellent. Edwin! Form up my guards!”

Sevana reflected as they waited for the guards to arrive
that it was better overall that Master hadn’t come with her and instead gone to
Kindin. If he ever saw how de Luca reacted to her, the count really
would
have been fish bait by now.

A four-man guard met them at the front doors and escorted
them off the compound. The count had been very careful when he situated the
black market. It was on property he owned, but something he had gained by a
defaulted loan. It was a sketchy gray area that the law couldn’t quite figure
out how to deal with, or so he had explained once to her. The land was
kitty-corner to the compound, within easy reach of him, and it gave him perfect
access while also giving him a perfect excuse to ignore it, if the law ever
came knocking.

Sevana couldn’t help but feel that if this was Windamere,
and not Belen, de Luca would never have gotten by with that legal loophole. Bel
would have still found a way to shut the man down. A smile tweaked the corners
of her mouth at the thought.

He noticed her smile and asked, “What amuses you, my dear?”

She shot him a quick glance, but didn’t dare do more than
that for fear of bumping into the narrow passageway in between estates. Why
were they taking this alley route, anyway? It felt cramped and cold in here. “I
was just thinking that if this was Windamere, and not Belen, my prince would
have shut you down by now.”

“Prince Bellomi? Ah, that’s right, you lived with him for
several months.” He sighed as if upset. “I was truly jealous when I heard of
that, you know. I was afraid you would fall for him.”

“Romano.” She gave him a flat stare. “He was
eight
.”

“He was in his twenties and
looked
as if he were
eight,” he corrected, meeting her stare for stare. “And I understand he’s both
handsome and charming.”

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