Just because no one had said anything about the Magh’Sceadu ignoring me and making a beeline for Talon didn’t mean they didn’t know what that implied. My ribs and I had no doubt that Carnades knew. Yes, if any of us used magic we’d essentially be sending up a flare for Sarad Nukpana and his Khrynsani to locate us. But if there was no way out, no way to survive other than using magic, these goblins were counting on me being able to lay waste to whatever or whoever was about to do the same to us, namely fifty worshiping Khrynsani. The only thing I could lay waste to right now was a good dinner. The Resistance needed to know—at least the people in this room should. Mychael and I’d agreed that if we had to admit to anything, we’d say that my magic had become unreliable after my last encounter with the Saghred. That was the understatement of the millennium. While not entirely the truth, it wasn’t a lie. My magic could come back at any time. We didn’t think it was going to, but we didn’t know that for sure.
I glanced at Mychael and received a quick nod in return.
Oh, boy. Here we go.
I took a deep breath and dived in. “While vaporizing Sarad Nukpana and his boys would be the quickest—and undeniably the most satisfying—way to get to the rock, it’s not exactly a realistic part of our plan right now.”
No one said a word. Tam took a big swig of Barrett’s rescued port straight from the bottle.
I wished I had some.
I hit the highlights of what had happened in the elven embassy dungeons, and how the Saghred had consumed an elven mage through me; and while the rock was at it, it’d given my magic a figurative kick in the teeth. However, I was still left with all of the fun of being linked to the thing.
Lady Deidre Nathrach was stunned. I suspected it was an emotion she didn’t have much experience with. “You don’t have any magic?”
I shrugged. “It comes and goes, ma’am.” I decided partial truth would go down better than the full variety. I didn’t think the spark I was occasionally able to muster counted as a resurgence of my magic, but it was better than admitting I was potentially a permanent mundane in a room full of goblins, one of whom—namely Prince Chigaru—didn’t like me all that much to begin with. I’d rather keep the possibility open that if he messed with me, there wouldn’t be anything left of him to mess with anyone else ever again.
Prince Chigaru had been sitting quietly through all this, his fingers steepled in front of his face. “When was the last time you had your magic?” he asked quietly.
I’d had the answer to that one ready to go. “Yesterday on Mid.” I didn’t mention that magic was a miniscule spark on the tip of my finger.
“Your magic vanishing, do you know before it happens?”
“No advance warning, if that’s what you mean.”
“It is.” The prince turned to Imala. “Did you know about this?”
“I did.”
“And you did not tell me.” No direct accusation, just hard eyes. Mal’Salins didn’t like being given bad news.
“It had no bearing on our mission. We had to come here regardless. We’re taking many risks; this is merely one more, and Raine is bearing the brunt of it.”
I had to hand it to Imala—if lying had been a profession, she could have made a fine living doing it.
“Besides,” she continued coolly. “How do you think Raine feels?”
“What Raine feels is not—”
“Highness,” Imala reprimanded.
“It must concern her greatly.” The prince’s verbal turnabout was quick enough to give him whiplash.
Turnabout notwithstanding, Chigaru was still unhappy, which likely was a cover for fear. It was my experience that creatures with fangs tended to react badly to fear, so I wasn’t going to show any of my own.
I offered a nonchalant shrug. “I’m adapting.”
Tam stepped in. “Right now, we need to find Kesyn Badru.”
“Good luck,” Jash said. “No one knows where he is.”
“Is there a chance he was captured?”
Deidre shook her head. “We’d know by now. None of our people in the palace or temple have heard of him being brought in.”
Jash gave a short laugh. “Impressive as hell considering Sarad’s been pulling out all the stops to find him.”
“What did he do?” I asked.
“Kesyn Badru was also Sarad’s teacher.”
I blinked at Tam. “He taught both of you?”
Deidre’s lips twitched in a smile. “Some men attract more than their share of bad luck.”
I jerked my head toward Talon. “Worse than this one?”
“Infinitely.”
Jash spoke. “Mistress Benares, excuse my bluntness, but if you don’t have any magic, then why are you here?”
“I really don’t have a good answer to that—at least not a sane one. Me getting myself bonded to the Saghred started this whole mess, so I’m here to do everything I can to end it.” I tried a smile, but it probably came off looking as scared as I felt. “You guys aren’t the only ones who live for flipping off Death.”
Chapter 8
Our meeting was over, and Mychael and Tam were speaking in hushed tones with Jash Masloc in the wide hallway outside the dining room. A young goblin, entirely too small for the sword he wore, stood quietly behind Jash waiting for them to finish. He held a folded stack of what appeared to be clothing.
Imala strode down the hall toward us, carrying a small stack of handbills.
She handed them to me. “Confirmation that Sathrik and Sarad know we’re here, and have for at least long enough to get these produced and distributed throughout the city.”
Piaras stepped up and looked at them over my shoulder.
Wanted posters.
Crap in a bucket.
I flipped through them.
Me, Mychael, Tam, Imala, but not Chigaru. Interesting.
“Why isn’t the prince included?” I asked.
“Sathrik’s exile of Chigaru is considered a private, family matter,” Imala replied. “To the people, Sathrik has gone out of his way to convey that he is ‘greatly saddened and disappointed’ by his brother’s betrayal and abandonment of their people.”
“Abandoned? I take it that’s Mal’Salin-speak for forced to run and hide for years or be captured, imprisoned, and killed in a dark dungeon.”
“Essentially, yes,” she drawled. “You’re getting good at this.”
“It’s never been one of my goals, though it’s nice to know I’m good at something right now.” I flipped through the posters, noting the amount of the reward on each one. “I guess we ought to be flattered. Sathrik’s not being stingy for any of us. There’s nothing less than a fortune on any of our heads.”
The last two posters were of Piaras and Talon.
“So much for if Sarad Nukpana knows we tagged along.” Piaras tried for a chuckle and it actually almost sounded like one. “My first wanted poster, and a respectable amount, too. Phaelan would be proud.”
I wasn’t proud. I was petrified. Nukpana knew Piaras was here. He wanted to get his sacrificial daggers into Piaras almost as badly as he wanted to do the same to me. He’d almost succeeded that night on an altar in The Ruins. The only way I’d been able to save him was by tricking Nukpana into touching the Saghred with his bloody hand. He’d never fall for anything like that again.
Piaras knew what that wanted poster meant, too. He’d been the one chained helpless to that altar, gagged so even his spellsinger’s voice couldn’t save him.
“Sathrik’s putting his money where his mouth is,” Tam said from behind me. “He wants us off the street and in a cell. Fast.”
“He’s afraid of us,” Imala said. “The last thing he wants is a morale boost for the Resistance.”
Mychael stood silently next to Imala. Jash was still talking to the young goblin, hopefully out of earshot.
“Carnades is locked down tight, right?” I asked him.
“Oh yes.”
“What if he starts talking about, you know… Raine not having any magic?” Piaras asked. “Will anyone believe him?”