"This changes everything, you know."
Ghaji understood that she was talking about her dragonmark, but that was all he understood. "No, I don't know. Tell me."
Yvka looked at Ghaji for a long time, her face unreadable, but her eyes revealed the inner struggle she was going through. Finally, she told him everything-about going to the Culinarian to meet with Zivon, how the Fury struck while she was there, and how her dragonmark had manifested during her fight with the half-elf.
"Zivon not only wanted me to regain possession of the Zephyr-for though I've used the vessel for decades, she belongs to the Shadow Network-he also wanted me to deliver Tresslar's dragonwand to them… as well as Solus."
Ghaji wished he was shocked by Yvka's words, but he wasn't. The Shadow Network had a reputation for absolute pragmatism in all things, but most especially when it came to the acquisition of the organization's twin loves: power and profit.
"And what did you tell him?" Ghaji asked.
"I tried to put him off by pretending that I wanted to negotiate a better reward for myself. But then the Fury overwhelmed Zivon and our discussion ended when he tried to kill me. After Diran exorcised the Fury-demon, Zivon regained his senses. He was so pleased by the appearance of my dragonmark that he said no more about Solus or the dragonwand."
"But that doesn't mean he's forgotten about them, does it?"
Yvka shook her head. "The Network never forgets anything. If they want Solus and the wand, they will stop at nothing to get them. Whether I deliver them or not. They'll simply send someone else, and if that person fails, they'll keep sending new people until someone finally succeeds. But a dragonmark, even a Lesser one, raises my status in the Network. I may be able to bargain with the Hierarchs so that they'll… overlook their interest in Solus and the dragonwand."
Ghaji didn't like where this was headed. "Bargain with what?"
"My services. I've worked hard for more years than you've been alive to earn the freedom to roam the Principalities as I wish. And the Network has allowed me to retain my liberty as long as I furthered its interests. But dragonmarks are a valuable commodity, and the Hierarchs prefer to keep a tight rein on those individuals who possess them. I've given the Network both Grimwall and Mount Luster. Now I will give them myself-but only if they'll leave Solus and the dragonwand alone."
"It sounds like indentured servitude! I admire that you want to protect Solus and Tresslar-assuming the artificer ever gets his wand back for anyone to take it away from him again-but do you really believe the Network will live up to its end of the bargain?"
"It may be difficult for someone not part of the Network to believe, but once the Hierarchs make a bargain, they keep it. Especially within the organization. We have a saying: 'True loyalty is the only item that cannot be bought.' That's why it's so highly prized in the Network."
Ghaji understood now why Yvka had been so reluctant to talk with him the last few days, and why she'd seemed to be hiding something more important than usual. On one level he was relieved to know the truth, and he was pleased that she'd finally told him something of her life working for the Shadow Network. But he also feared the implications of what she intended to do.
"So just how tight a rein will these Hierarchs wish to keep on you? And what will this mean for us?"
"It will mean the end of my freedom, at least, the kind I enjoy now. As for you and me…" She looked away, tears forming in the corner of her soulful eyes. "The Hierarchs are unhappy enough that I have friends outside the Network as it is. Once I start working for them as a dragonmarked operative… I just don't know."
There were so many things Ghaji wanted to say to Yvka. In the end, too many. Instead he took her in his arms and held her tight. Holding eventually led to kissing, and kissing in turn led to other things, and for a time the two lovers forgot their troubles as they lost themselves in each other.
And the Turnabout sailed on, slicing through the waves like a finely honed sword as the elemental galleon ran full out for Regalport.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Moonlight painted the water lapping at Regalport's central dock a gleaming silver. Nathifa thought of Diran Bastiaan and his companions-who surely were on their way to Greentarn even now-and she hoped the reflected moonlight wasn't an omen of ill fortune. The sorceress told herself to forget such foolish thoughts and have faith in the machinations of her Queen. Even if Bastiaan and the others managed to arrive this night, there was nothing they could do to stop her. Failure was impossible.
Still, the water's silver glimmer seemed to say otherwise.
Nathifa stood on the dock next to where the Zephyr was berthed. With Skarm left behind on Trebaz Sinara and most likely dead, Haaken had taken over piloting the elemental sloop. Since the spells that allowed one to activate and control the vessel's wind elemental were built into the pilot's chair, no special skill with magic was necessary. In his previous life as commander of the Coldhearts, Haaken had captained a ship called the Maelstrom, and he proved quite adept at piloting the Zephyr, so much so that Nathifa had no regrets over abandoning Skarm. In fact, it was something of a relief to be rid of the bumbling fool.
They'd approached Regalport at dusk, but the bay had been cluttered with fishing boats, pleasure craft, and trading vessels, and night had fallen by the time they'd maneuvered through the maze of ships and managed to reach the central dock. No berths were available, so Haaken jumped over the side, took shark form, located a small sail boat and bit through the mooring line. He gave the vessel a shove, and the boat drifted away from the dock, making room for the Zephyr.
Once the sloop had taken the sail boat's place, Makala stepped onto the dock and tied the Zephyr's lines to rusted iron cleats. Just as she finished, there came the sound of boots pounding on wood as two men ran down the dock toward them, swords drawn.
"Here now! What do you think you're doing?" one of the men shouted.
Guards, Nathifa thought. What a nuisance.
"Slay them," she told Makala.
Grinning, the vampire stepped forward to meet the guards' advance. She backhanded one man, sending him into the water for Haaken to deal with. She grabbed hold of the other by his throat, slammed him down onto the dock, and fell upon him like a starving animal. Moments later, both guards were dead, their bodies tossed into the sea.
Nathifa had kept watch for other guards while her servants dispatched the men, but she'd sensed none. Neverthless, she ordered Makala and Haaken to perform a quick search of the docks and slay any other guards they might find. A short while later, the vampire and the wereshark returned to the Zephyr, the blood covering their mouths and hands telling Nathifa that the docks were now clear for them to go to work.
Haaken and Makala brought up the statue of Nerthatch from the Zephyr's hold. Centuries ago, the evil priest had attempted to raise the bodies of those who'd lost their lives in the unforgiving waters of the Gulf of Ingjald to create an undead army. This night, Nathifa would use the priest's petrified form to raise something entirely different-and far more deadly-from the frigid depths of the Lhazaar.
Makala had hold of the top half of Nerthatch's stone body, and she carried it with ease. Haaken gripped the lower half, but as he was in human form, he was having a harder time of bearing his share of the statue's weight. Protruding from the statue's chest was the hilt of a silver dagger. Both Makala and Haaken were most careful to avoid touching it. It took several minutes for the two of them to get the statue onto the dock and positioned facing seaward, as Nathifa wished.
Once the statue was in place, Haaken said, "You still haven't told us what we're going to do tonight. But whatever it is, wouldn't it make more sense to do it out in the bay aboard the Zephyr? That way we'd be certain no one could interfere before we were finished."