The Immortal Prince (37 page)

Warlock hesitated as it occurred to him his detention might have nothing to do with his unexpected release at all, but was a part of something much bigger. “Has something happened, your grace? To her ladyship?”

Stellan Desean hesitated and then nodded, as if admitting the truth could do no harm. “While she was escorting this would-be immortal back to the palace, he escaped and took my wife hostage.”

Somehow, the news didn't surprise Warlock. “I don't think he'll harm her, your grace,” Warlock found himself saying, not sure why he felt the need to reassure the man directly responsible for his incarceration. He owed the Duke of Lebec nothing, it seemed, not even his release.

“How can you be sure?”

Because I could smell it on them,
Warlock wanted to reply, but knew he couldn't say it aloud. You didn't tell a man with the power of life or death over you that you could smell lust simmering between his wife and another man. Cayal was nothing more than an escaped murderer to Stellan Desean. Telling him he suspected Cayal wouldn't hurt his wife because it was obvious he desired her would hardly set the man's mind at rest.

“The Immortal Prince is renowned for many things, your grace, but wanton cruelty is not among them.”

“You keep insisting he's immortal. Arkady thought he might be a Caelish spy. Or a madman.”

“It matters little which one, sire,” Warlock pointed out. “If Cayal is really an immortal or if he has simply assumed the persona of the Immortal Prince, he is bound by the legend he has claimed and if he wants to keep up his fiction he must therefore act as the real Cayal would act. In Crasii legend, Cayal is known as an adventurer, a scoundrel, even a champion of lost causes at times, but he has never been known for being deliberately malicious. Nor is this man a fool. If he has your wife, she will be alive, because he intends to trade her safety for his escape.”

The duke studied him for a time. “You've thought this through, I see.”

“It requires very little thought, your grace. I would have thought the evidence spoke for itself.”

The duke smiled thinly. “Arkady said you were intelligent.”

Warlock didn't return the smile. “She also said you granted me a pardon, your grace.”

The duke glanced down at the document he was still holding. “A circumstance which presents me with something of a dilemma, I fear.”

Warlock could see the duke's problem. It was obvious, now, that his wife had forged the pardon, which meant she'd probably forged Cayal's release papers, as well. Whatever game Arkady was playing, whether it was aimed at embarrassing her husband or something more sinister, Warlock was caught in the thick of it. His life now hinged on the willingness of this man to overlook his wife's active participation in the release of two convicted murderers.

His lordship didn't appear happy about it, either. “If I honour this pardon, I become complicit in her crime.”

“And if you don't honour it, her crime becomes public, your grace,” Warlock reminded him, guessing that was the reason the duke hadn't called the guards in yet, or had Warlock dragged back to Lebec Prison in chains.
His wife's defiance is not something he wants to advertise,
Warlock guessed,
not with the king and queen in Lebec.

“Where were you headed?” the duke asked abruptly. “When they apprehended you?”

“West,” Warlock told him honestly. “To Caelum. I was hoping to find Hidden Valley.”

The duke seemed amused by his admission. “The legendary sanctuary of the Scards? Do you think it really exists?”

“I believe the Immortal Prince exists, your grace. Why shouldn't I believe there is a home for my kind out there somewhere?”

“My wife's colleagues at the university—the ones who fancy themselves smarter than the rest of us—insist the Crasii belief in magic is one of the things that make you less than human.”

“And yet, by Crasii reckoning, it's what makes us
more
than human.”

The duke had no answer for that. He turned and knocked on the door behind him, his expression apologetic. “I wish we had time to become better acquainted, Warlock, out of Bella, by Segura. You strike me as an interesting man.”

It wasn't often a human referred to a Crasii as a “man.” Warlock appreciated the gesture, certain though he was that it was simply the duke's way of expressing his regret for what he was about to do. Four days, Warlock had been free.

It wasn't long enough.

It would have to be.

“You could come visit me in prison and we can talk again,” Warlock suggested. “I've nothing much else to do with my time.”

Before the duke could answer, the door opened. Another City Watch officer stepped through the door, saluted sharply and then glanced at Warlock.

“What are your orders concerning the Scard, your grace?”

Stellan Desean hesitated for a fraction of a second before he answered, handing the pardon to the officer. “Release him,” he ordered, his voice much more certain than his eyes. “This isn't the Scard we're looking for.”

“But…your grace…,” the officer argued. “He fits the description perfectly. He has the pardon…”

The duke's tone changed. So did his uncertain expression. “Are you questioning me, sir?” All trace of his earlier doubt was gone. This was the voice of a man who wielded the power of life and death over the citizens of Lebec and he would clearly brook no interference from an underling.

The officer backed down with alacrity, bowing to his lord and master. “Of course not, your grace.”

“This particular canine aided my wife in one of her academic projects and was pardoned for his assistance. He is not to be harassed while in my city, is that clear?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“You are free to go,” the Duke of Lebec informed Warlock. “I wish you luck in your quest, however futile it might prove to be.”

“Finding a place one can call home is never futile, your grace,” Warlock replied.

“No,” the duke agreed, “I don't suppose it is.”

With that, the Duke of Lebec turned on his heel and strode from the cell, leaving Warlock staring at the City Watch officer, who was holding the precious pardon and making no attempt to hide his disgust at the notion of having to let this Crasii murderer go free.

Jaxyn handpicked the Crasii he intended to take into the mountains. There were a dozen he chose—all felines except for one, a canine named Chelby, Stellan's best tracker and the only male in the group. He chose the Crasii for their stamina, their fighting skills and, most importantly, their unquestioning obedience. It would be too late, once he found Arkady and her escaped murderer, to discover he had any Scards among his escort.

They left Lebec Palace the day after Clyden Bell reported Arkady taken. Stellan would have preferred him to leave sooner, but with the king in residence, such a thing was not so easily achieved. Jaxyn might be making a heroic dash to save his good friend's wife, but they didn't particularly want anybody knowing about it, or worse—tagging along for the ride. Jaxyn and Stellan had made a great show at dinner the night before he left, about hunting down an escaped Crasii, and even more time trying to discourage Mathu from joining the hunt. They were saved in the latter by the queen herself, who objected loudly at the very notion of her son riding off into the mountains in pursuit of some filthy Crasii runaway.

Stellan covered Arkady's absence by claiming she was ill and, with the queen's help, they finally convinced Mathu he'd be better served preparing for the formal announcement of his betrothal to Kylia in a few days' time than traipsing through the mountains after a slave. It had been an altogether harrowing time for the conspirators and Stellan was quite pale by the time the matter was settled and the dinner table discussion moved on to other things.

Their caution was justified. Jaxyn knew that if the king got wind of what had happened to Arkady, it wouldn't be one nobleman and a dozen Crasii heading off in pursuit of the Immortal Prince. Enteny would bring the entire Glaeban army down on Lebec to avenge the insult to his crown. Arkady Desean was more than just a woman the King of Glaeba found beguiling. She was a cousin by marriage. A member of the extended royal family. She was married to the man third in line for the throne. There were consequences for endangering such an important person.

Something Cayal has obviously not considered,
Jaxyn thought, as they made camp a few days later, the bitter mountain wind tugging at his cloak. The rain had let up for a time, thankfully. He took in the view, the magnificent vista laid out before him, not really seeing it, no longer impressed by the tall, darkly forested Glaeban mountains, no longer impressed by much of anything, for that matter.

The days when Jaxyn Aranville could stand on the peak of a mountain and be overawed by the majesty of his surroundings were long past.

They had followed Cayal's trail easily enough for the first day, always climbing higher but inexorably heading northeast. The escapee and his errant Crasii made no secret of their passage. It was as if Cayal was taunting his pursuers by leaving such an obvious trail, something Jaxyn wouldn't put past him. Earlier today, however, the trail had faded to almost nothing and Chelby was ranging out ahead of them even now, making the most of the available light, still looking for some hint of the fugitives' direction.

Jaxyn was certain the Crasii would find it eventually. And if he didn't, well…perhaps, if they couldn't follow Cayal, they could figure out where he was headed. This was a spur-of-the-moment plan, this kidnap of the Duke of Lebec's wife. Cayal would have had no time at Clyden's Inn to plan anything else, no time to consider the effect of his actions. His only concern would have been escape. The Immortal Prince's lack of forethought would work in his enemies' favour.

Cayal hasn't thought this through very well at all.
“How typical.”

“Sire?” the nearest feline asked. She'd been setting up his small oiled-silk tent, but stopped when she thought he'd spoken to her. “Did you say something, my lord?”

“Just thinking out loud,” he replied, tugging his cloak closed against the wind. “Get a move on with that, would you? I want to rest.”

The feline nodded and hurried back to her work. Jaxyn smiled at her obsequiousness. Some things about the Crasii never seemed to change.

“My lord.”

He turned to find Chelby coming up behind him. The canine wasn't as big as some Jaxyn had seen, but he was an excellent tracker. His pelt was tri-coloured, the white fur covering his hands and feet stark against the black and brown patches that covered the rest of his body. His almost-human face was drawn into a frown, wide nostrils flaring.

“Did you find any sign of them?”

“About a half-mile to the south of here, my lord,” Chelby informed him, pointing in the direction of which he spoke. “I've marked the place. We can pick up their trail in the morning.”

“You've done well.” Jaxyn wasn't being nice to the Crasii out of sentiment. He just knew, from long experience, that it never hurt to praise a canine. They thrived on it. And worked harder for it.

Chelby bowed low, his tail wagging. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you, thank—”

“Where are they going, do you think?” Jaxyn asked, cutting off the Crasii's stream of gushing gratitude.

“They seem to have turned higher into the mountains, my lord,” the canine replied, a little chastened. “If he's looking to escape Glaeba—the Immortal Prince—you'd think he'd move in a more southerly direction.”

Jaxyn was surprised the Crasii had thought of such a thing. He supposed he shouldn't have been. Stellan encouraged his Crasii to think for themselves.

He wasn't sure why. Jaxyn had never seen the point of intelligent Crasii, really.

“Who told you we were in pursuit of the Immortal Prince?” Jaxyn asked, a little concerned. These creatures worshipped the Tide Lords, were bred for their blind obedience to them. If they thought they were chasing one down, there was no telling what they'd do when they found him.

“Before Clyden Bell spoke of the events at his inn to the duke, my lord, he was required to relate his tale to the Crasii doorman to gain entry to the palace. It was common knowledge even before you arrived at the village to select your escort that you would be seeking to find the Immortal Prince and bring him to justice.”

Jaxyn snorted at that.
Bring Cayal to justice? Chance would be a fine thing.

“So, where do you think he's headed?” he asked, curious how much lore of the Crasii the canine knew. If he'd been well-schooled by his dam, Chelby would know the legends. He might even be smart enough to put two and two together and come up with the right answer.

The Crasii dropped his eyes and lowered his tail and refused to answer.

Jaxyn grasped the young male's shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell me, Chelby. I promise, I won't be angry with you.”

The Crasii hesitated for a moment longer before he spoke. “I was just thinking, sire…if this man we pursue…if he really is the Immortal Prince…might not he be headed for Maralyce's Mine?”

Jaxyn frowned.
So the legends are still told among the Crasii.
That was both a good and a bad thing, he mused, and not altogether convenient.

“And do you know where to find it?” Jaxyn asked, curiously. “This legendary mine of Crasii lore?”

The young canine shook his head, looking very disappointed. “No, my lord. Our legends tell of the mine's existence; of the fabulous treasure buried within. But other than the mine being hidden in the Shevron Mountains east of the Great Lakes, they do not speak of a specific location. I thought perhaps…you…” The canine's voice trailed off, as if he feared the consequences of his presumptuousness.

Jaxyn let the silence draw out, enjoying the Crasii's discomfort.

“You thought I might, what, gemang?” he asked eventually.

“I thought
you
might know…my lord…” Chelby looked ready to chew his own foot off out of mortification.

“You think
I
should know?”

“I'm sorry, my lord…I should not have presumed…”

Chelby's fawning was starting to irritate Jaxyn. “You're right, gemang. You should not presume. Still, you're not incorrect in your assumption. I do know where Maralyce's Mine is.”

Around him, Jaxyn could feel the feline Crasii go still, even those behind him he couldn't see. “You seemed surprised, gemang? Why? Did you think I would forget?”

“Of course not, my lord,” one of the felines assured him. “You are omnipotent.”

He smiled. “That's a big word for a little cat. Stellan really does overeducate you lot, doesn't he?”

The feline bowed. “If you say so, my lord.”

Satisfied the Crasii were still his to command, he turned his back on them, lifting his face to the sky so he could feel the setting sun on his face, the bite of the wind, the icy chill of the oncoming night. The air was thin and smelled of rain and old snow at this altitude and he was feeling a little light-headed as his body adjusted to the change.

But it wasn't just the air making him feel strange. Underneath the tingling of the brittle atmosphere against his skin, there was something else, he realised. Something tickling at his awareness, something pulling at him, like an indefinable itch.

A slow smile crept over Jaxyn's face. A score of times he'd felt this. A score of times he'd welcomed it. Jaxyn forgot about the Crasii and closed his eyes. He held his arms out wide, letting the sensation whisper over him like the tender kiss of a secret lover.

Jaxyn knew what it was.

It was power. Life. Eternity. There…on the very edge of his awareness, something he hadn't felt for a thousand years.

The Tide was coming in.