Auguries of Dawn
Devlin waited in the corridor outside the suite given to Reagan and the diviner, thinking he was almost ready to tender his resignation, pack a bag, and simply disappear from the home city of Justice, never to be seen or heard from again.
The past few days, to say the least, had been incredibly stressful. After Knoxx had nearly been killed while aiding Nathon in his duel the day of the violent rainstorm, Devlin had severed any further involvement of his brother’s upon the field, fearing it was only going to lead to his death. Consequently, the combatants had been left to their own devices since, making for some extremely tense situations. The worst of them had occurred just hours ago, when Taleb faced off with the Balshan. Had the Healers gotten to him only a few minutes later, chances were he would have completely bled out; while managing to deliver a death strike to Xaz, the chest wound he’d taken in return had, without question, been mortal.
And then the seemingly impossible had occurred, when Rydin Kale actually bested the warlord. This meant Taleb would now be fighting Kale in the final duel, a man who appeared to disrupt the very laws of nature. For certain the outcome would not be in Taleb’s favor, leaving only the question of whether Kale would decide to kill him or not. The Jennite’s moves and motivations had so far proven themselves completely unpredictable, and were murkier than ever now that he’d left two opponents alive while, seemingly randomly, chosen to kill the other three.
Another reason to be nervous was that Knoxx was right now within Devlin’s own quarters, awaiting the commencement of the feast so that he could slip unseen into Stavrakos’s apartments and start working on the magically-protected safe. It would be Devlin’s job to keep an eye on the treasurer for the rest of the afternoon and evening, to ensure he did not make any unscheduled returns to his rooms and discover Knoxx there. The jester had absolutely no idea what Stavrakos might have secured in that safe, but he felt it was imperative he find out.
And now, to all of this, he could add the mess of the diviner. None had expected the king to become aware of her in the fashion he had, so there really was no one to blame for it, but the problem was now Devlin’s to deal with. Hoping Oliveah would be smart enough to go to the bookshop once she discovered what had happened, he’d already arranged to have a message waiting for her there, with instructions to do nothing. It was Devlin’s intent to do everything in his power to avoid Madilaine reading for the king, but should his efforts fail, he’d already apprised Knoxx that it would be his responsibility to safely remove her from the castle.
Of course, should the king happen to demand her head in the middle of the ballroom while surrounded by hundreds of his guests and the royal guard, there would be nothing even Devlin could do to save her. Avoiding the possibility of such a scene therefore remained his ultimate goal.
The door now finally swung open before him, revealing his assistant Reagan wearing a stunning gown of pale blue that almost perfectly matched her eyes. Her waist-length, fiery hair was piled upon her head in a current and popular fashion, and for the first time he found himself noting that she was really quite attractive. She was also smiling radiantly, which he interpreted as excitement to be attending a royal ball.
“Master Alvik,” she nodded in greeting, looking surprised. “Have you come to personally escort us downstairs?”
“I have,” he replied, knowing this was a somewhat strange move but one he felt he’d had to chance. “I need a moment with Lady Savannon before we descend, however. If you could await us here in the corridor.”
“Of course,” she said, smoothly gliding past him.
He found Madilaine Savannon in the sitting room, and her eyes were huge as they took him in.
“Are we alone?” she hissed, glancing behind him.
“We are.”
She then took two furious steps toward him. “Why did you leave me with that woman?” she demanded furiously.
He frowned, immediately confused. “Reagan? She’s just one of my assistants. I happened to spot her while we were leaving the forum and thought she would be as good a choice as any to attend you.”
She was still staring at him almost wildly. “Then you truly don’t know anything of this?”
“Anything of what?” he replied, becoming impatient.
The diviner paused, and closed her eyes briefly. “Promise me she won’t be harmed.”
He regarded her, more baffled than ever. “Would you please just explain yourself?”
“Not until you promise me!”
He sighed. “Fine, I promise she will not be harmed. Now, what is all this excitement?” And why are you wasting my time with it now?
“She plans to kill King DeSiva tonight.”
Devlin’s mind came to a sudden and screeching halt, and he stared back at the diviner stupidly. “What?” he finally managed.
She pursed her lips together briefly. “I saw this. It is her idea to administer poison to his food or drink. But she will not be successful, and Captain Poage will kill her.” She closed her eyes and shuddered, making it obvious her second sight had shown to her this very action.
Stunned, Devlin backed up a step and fell onto the small couch behind him. In all honesty, the most perplexing aspect of this revelation was that he’d not possessed even an inkling that Reagan was not what she appeared to be. With his very life depending on his ability to read people, he was furious at himself for having gleaned nothing at all duplicitous about her. Truly, she was one of very few people who had ever been able to fool him.
“Why does she plan this?” he asked, still trying to sort through his racing thoughts.
Madilaine sank down into the chair next to the couch. “I saw nothing of her motives, but believe I can piece together a logical answer given what I know of her past.”
He frowned again. “And how is it you know of her past?”
“I . . . am friendly with her brother.”
“And who is her brother?”
“Baiel Maves.”
“The warlord?” he demanded, shocked again. “She said nothing of this to me!”
He also realized he’d never had cause to learn her family name, although, now the truth had been pointed out to him, the resemblance between the two was fairly obvious.
The diviner was now explaining to him the circumstances of the Maves’ family history, and understanding began to form in his mind. Although those Jennite raids had occurred before his own term here in Aralexia, he’d been made aware of the situation. It had been the warlords who had finally taken matters into their own hands and put an end to them, but not before thousands were slaughtered or taken. It was not pleasant to think of what Reagan might have lived through during her ten years of imprisonment in Jennen.
“Is the warlord also a part of this plot?” he asked, after taking all of this in.
The diviner’s eyes widened. “No! Neither Baiel, nor any other warlord, has any interest in Revenge.”
Devlin eyed her as two things then occurred to him. The first was fairly obvious; friendly as she claimed to be with Baiel Maves, it was likely she’d elicited the promise to keep Reagan from harm strictly for his benefit. His second realization was much more interesting, and gave him a fairly deep insight into the nature of Madilaine Savannon.
With her own life in jeopardy this day, she must have considered the fact of Reagan Maves’ attempted regicide from another perspective. Because the act would most assuredly distract from any possible danger she might draw upon herself, it was extremely telling that she’d decided to confess—and therefore, halt—the action her second sight had beheld.
Either Madilaine was completely trusting to Devlin to see her from this alive, or she was convinced she’d witnessed this act so that she could stop it and save Reagan’s life, even at risk to her own. Whichever way the truth fell, it said much of her, bespeaking of a much stronger character than he would have suspected.
“What are you to do?” she asked him now, leaning forward in her seat with a look of grea
t concern.
He sighed again, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. The plots and intrigues currently buzzing about Aralexia were beginning to overwhelm even him, although he was mired in them much too deeply to ever entertain the idea of escaping their hold. No matter the outcome, he now had no choice but to just keep charging toward it.
But the diviner’s question was a good one. How was he to deal with this new, and rather startling, development?
His own life would be forfeit if he failed to report this to the royal guard and the plot was somehow discovered. But, even beyond his promise to Madilaine, there were further reasons why he was not considering doing this. Not only could he well understand Reagan’s rage and desire for retribution, but he couldn’t help but admire the sheer brashness of her for even attempting such a scheme. It was unlikely she expected to survive it, giving evidence to the fact that her desire for revenge had grown so fierce that it eclipsed even her will to live. And that was dedication on a level few could ever match.
Also to consider was how she’d managed to completely and utterly deceive him. Certainly he’d had much on his mind these last weeks, but he was allowing himself no excuses. And skills such as those she’d displayed could prove very advantageous to him indeed.
The solution came to him then, as simple as it was brilliant. So long as Knoxx had not yet departed from his quarters, this could be taken care of quietly, neatly, and, if he played his hand wisely, completely to his favor.
He grinned now at the diviner. “I will adhere to my promise, worry not. But the situation is now mine to deal with. Let it trouble you no further, and be certain Reagan knows nothing of what you’ve seen.”
The diviner didn’t argue. Apparently when her great-grandmother, Danetria, had instructed her to trust him, she had taken the direction seriously.
“There is one more matter I should relay,” she then went on.
“All right,” he said, now prepared for absolutely anything.
“Rydin swore to me that he would not kill Taleb. So you’ll have no need to worry for him tomorrow.”
Devlin’s mind again spun to quickly assimilate this information. His first question was how the diviner had gotten to be on a first-name basis with Kale.
“We met in Tyrell, during the week of Ardin’s Pride,” she explained. “But I questioned him about tomorrow’s match while I performed his reading, and he vowed that he has no reason to wish Taleb dead.”
The jester’s eyes narrowed slightly. While this information really should have come as a great relief, he was instead pondering the diviner’s naiveté. While he’d been unable to uncover much information on Kale, he’d trust the man’s word about as far as he could shove an ox. He thought it very likely Madilaine had been played, but he saw no reason to point this out to her now. Likely, she would be learning the hard truth of it the following morning, so long as she survived the night.
“Well, that is one less worry then,” he murmured. “Now, if we can get to the matter I originally came to discuss with you?”
She looked a trifle confused as to why he’d brushed off her information so abruptly, but nodded back.
“Now,” Devlin began, “I will of course be doing everything in my power to keep the king from requesting a reading from you, but we’d best prepare for the situation should I fail.”
She nodded again, her face now tense.
He paused briefly before going on. “As we already know, whatever you are to see, should this reading happen, will prompt the king to order you killed. Unfortunately I cannot hope to pinpoint what this truth may be, for the king has plenty of secrets, and many worth killing for. I have no recourse but to advise you to lie, no matter what is revealed to you.”
Madilaine’s eyes widened as she looked at him, aghast. “I cannot lie about the contents of a reading! Such is forbidden!”
“You will if you want to live,” he returned forcefully.
Her look remained scandalized. “But, what if I am to make a claim he knows to be an untruth?”
The jester shrugged. “How many years have you been doing this? Surely you are capable of faking your way through a single reading.”
She looked tortured.
“Now, should the worst happen despite our precautions,” Devlin went on, “I have already arranged for my brother to see you from the city safely.”
She looked surprised. “Knoxx is here?”
“Yes. He’ll be lurking about the castle should we have need of him.” There was no reason at all to bring up Stavrakos’s safe to her, so he kept that information to himself.
“I can’t leave the city without Sabian,” she then insisted.
He shrugged, not knowing or caring who Sabian was. “Well, you can work out those arrangements with Knoxx should they be needed. Once you’ve left this castle, my influence will end, and you’ll be on your own to get out of Aralexia.” Seeing her look, he went on. “I’ve already put a message in place for Oliveah, telling her to stay away from the castle and await further word.”
“I imagine she’ll be making plans for Sabian and I to now leave Aralexia,” she murmured, thinking.
Devlin pushed himself to his feet. “We’d best go. It is suspicious enough that I came here.” He stopped and gave her a serious look. “Remember—Reagan can know nothing of what you discovered.”
He waited for her nod of acknowledgement before turning to lead the way from the room. Reagan was standing in the corridor where he’d left her, and he had to force himself not to look at her too closely, searching for some sign of her inner thoughts that he’d never recognized before. Her expression was deceptively serene, a picture of calm patience. Although, he did now feel he understood the smile she’d be wearing upon first opening the door.
They had yet to reach the stairwell leading downward when he suddenly snapped his fingers. “I’m afraid I forgot something in my quarters. We’ll just need to make a quick dash back before heading to the ballroom.”
Neither woman responded, and he deftly led them through the maze of corridors and staircases until they came upon his own apartment. “I’ll be but a moment,” he promised, disappearing within while leaving the two outside in the corridor.
“Knoxx,” he hissed, having no idea what he would do if his brother was already skulking about the halls, cloaked in invisibility.
Knoxx stepped into the room, holding a sprig of red grapes. “What?” he said, popping one into his mouth.
Devlin exhaled in relief. “New plan,” he said, and then went on to relay what the diviner had discovered about Reagan.
Knoxx took this in with a grunt; apparently the revelations of the past several days had rendered him unshockable. “So what am I to do about it?”
“The poison must be somewhere on her person. Get it, and slip it to me.”
“I trust you want this done before I make way for the safe?”
“Yes. Will taking it from her present a problem?”
Knoxx scoffed. “I am an accomplished thief, you know.”
“Good,” Devlin nodded. “Once this is done, you can head for the safe. Between the feast and the ball, Stavrakos should not have any reason to return to his rooms until the wee hours.”
“Let’s hope not,” his brother nodded.
“I must go. May Eris and Katrien bless you this night,” Devlin said, turning back. Since this was in fact Fourteenth-Day, it was likely that Eris, the Patron of Magic, would at least do so. Truly, they could not have picked a better day to break through a magically-guarded safe.
Reagan and Madilaine were as he’d left them, and they headed down into the grand chamber serving as the royal ballroom. Elegantly-decorated tables lined the walls, and nobles loitered about everywhere. Devlin turned to the diviner.
“You are not expected to begin giving readings until after the feast. I made arrangements for you to be seated with the attending members of your family for the duration of the mea
l,” he told her, gesturing to the small group of Savannons conversing with other highborns not far away. But while he’d done this as a kindness, he immediately saw the diviner was not at all happy with his efforts.
“Or,” he went on, “you can remain with Reagan, and take a seat amongst my assistants.”
Evidently Madilaine preferred the company of a would-be murderer to that of her own family. Devlin sent them off to their table before starting for his own seat at the forefront of the chamber.
The royal council was all assembling at the head table, with Commander Catala and Cadien Stavrakos already seated, and Prince Luken standing nearby with Seneschal Galaz. Commander Richert Poage appeared a moment later, and shouted for all to rise for the king’s entrance. Everyone did so, and the conversation fell to an abrupt silence as King DeSiva entered the ballroom. He made his way to his chair, and gave a wave for the merriment to commence.
Devlin dropped into his seat next to Luken, two persons removed from the king, and made a glance about. The gathering looked no different than it had the year before, or the year before that. The same nobles come to gorge themselves upon delicacies while prattling on about how wealthy they were and how much wealthier they would become by the end of the year. Devlin found most of the highborn to be stupid but dangerous, never a favorable mix. Those harboring any actual intelligence, however, were the most troublesome.
The ball officially began as the hired entertainment, a well-known troupe who’d gained much recent renown in Dhanen’Mar, erupted with their opening number. Devlin had deliberately not contracted the Moriss Tipley Troupe for this affair, figuring, at the time, that Oliveah’s presence here would have only complicated matters. In light of present circumstances, he remained uncertain if this had been a wise decision or a foolish one.
As the singers, dancers and tumblers began their routine, the feast commenced with a low hum of conversation sounding out from the surrounding tables. Beside him, Prince Luken was silent as he ate; to Devlin’s other side, Catala and Poage were discussing the chances of a riot should the Jennite Rydin Kale win the Challenge tomorrow. The likelihood of this was present but unlikely, for as much as the natives hated to see a foreigner take the prize, only twice in the history of the games had this ever led to such a circumstance.
Paying no attention whatsoever to what he was eating, Devlin scanned the room until his gaze fell upon the table holding his assistants. Madilaine and Reagan appeared to be conversing together casually, although the diviner didn’t seem to be eating, probably a result of her nerves. Reagan, on the other hand, looked to be enjoying the feast as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Again, the jester found himself admiring her poise, as well as the sheer audacity of her intentions. He could only hope she would keep to this carefree mask once she discovered her plans had been foiled.
They were just beginning the fourth course—roast pig with mint, stuffed with carrots and potatoes—when Devlin felt a slight pressure against his leg. Casually glancing down, he watched a tiny bottle filled with an amber-colored liquid suddenly materialize upon his chair. Deftly he palmed the item and vanished it into one of his pockets, mentally ticking this first objective off as accomplished. Knoxx would now be heading for Stavrakos’s quarters, where he would hopefully be able to crack the powerful magical safeguards protecting the contents of the safe. Devlin was incredibly curious to discover what the treasurer was keeping hidden within it.
He glanced again at Reagan now. It didn’t appear she had any idea her poison had been snatched, and he again wondered what she might do once she did.
Once all had eaten their fill many of the guests began wandering back onto the floor, where some engaged in dance and others in conversation. Devlin caught the diviner’s eye across the distance separating them and gave her a firm nod. Looking as though she was making her way to the gallows—which, he supposed, was not so far off the mark—she slowly got to her feet and immersed herself in a nearby group of people. In only minutes, she had led one of the men to an empty table and withdrawn her fortune cards.
Devlin looked away and shot a quick glance to the king. In deep conversation with a highborn man by the name of Ahmer Corte, his majesty didn’t appear to be paying the slightest bit of attention to Madilaine or her talents. Devlin wondered if he could manage to keep the king distracted enough throughout the course of the night so that he would forget her presence entirely.
Deciding it was worth a try, he rose to his feet and began mingling, never moving farther than thirty or so paces from the king so that he could be sure to keep a subtle eye on any movements he made. King DeSiva seemed content to hold court at the head table, however, greeting all those Devlin brought forth to speak with him and holding to a more or less sensible conversation with them all. Seneschal Galaz appeared to catch on quickly to Devlin’s attempts, and began feeding his own line of people to the king. After more than three hours of this, the jester was seriously beginning to think Madilaine just might escape the night unscathed.
As the king laughed raucously at his own joke within the circle of highborn now surrounding him, Devlin sent another glance about the ballroom. He continued to keep eyes upon Stavrakos’s movements, seeing him now across the room and speaking with a man Devlin knew to be one of the treasurer’s own spies. Content that he didn’t appear to have any intention of leaving the ballroom, the jester next checked on Madilaine. In the midst of yet another reading, she had wisely placed herself about as far from the king as possible, letting those desiring readings come to her. From what he had so far observed, she’d barely had a moment to herself the entire night.
Next he looked for Reagan. She’d been spending much time upon the dance floor with one of her fellow assistants, but wasn’t there now. Devlin searched, and finally found her sitting alone at the table where she’d eaten her meal. Even from such a distance, he had no trouble discerning by her movements that she was furious. Undoubtedly, she had just recently discovered her missing poison. With the king still occupied, his jokes becoming raunchier by the minute, Devlin kept his eye on her, relieved when she appeared to get herself under control. Eventually, she returned to the dance floor, but lacked her previous spirit. He could only hope she wasn’t now plotting another way of getting to the king.
Shortly after First-hour the guests began to trickle out, making slow exits in small groups of three or four. By this time, Knoxx should have finished with the safe, and been lurking somewhere about the ballroom. The king had left the head table only four times the entire evening, twice to attend to the call of nature and twice to engage in a few dances with the comeliest of highborn women. He was presently in his seat, conversing with a lord and lady who were often seen at court.
Devlin looked about again, thinking it would now be safe to tell Madilaine Savannon to make a quick exit. Once she was safely gone, he’d be free to confront Reagan, and then finally see out the final aspect of the night’s business by joining with his brother and learning what he’d discovered. Devlin was feeling extremely satisfied with how the evening had played out when his eyes then fell to the diviner and who she was currently sitting across from.
It was then he realized the warning given by her great-grandmother Danetria Savannon may not have been properly interpreted—for divinations were a tricky business, and sometimes even those who dedicated their lives to understanding them could not make out the entire picture.
It was also entirely possible that everything Devlin had done this night had only foiled one reading to bring about another—and one no less dangerous.
He started across the floor, cursing himself for not even considering this possibility. Danetria Savannon had warned Madilaine against reading for the king. The question now was whether this divination had meant the reigning king, or the future one.
Devlin drew as near as he dared and cleared his throat. “My prince?” he said, eyeing them both.
The diviner was pale but appeared
calm.
Luken distractedly turned to regard him, and a quick glance was all Devlin needed to surmise that Madilaine had most likely kept to his advice and lied about whatever her second sight had shown her.
“What is it, Devlin?” Luken frowned. “Can you not see I am in the midst of a reading?”
Devlin took another quick glance at Madilaine, deducing that while she was holding a tight rein on her emotions, this control would soon shatter. The Patrons only knew what had been revealed to her.
“My apologies, my prince,” he began smoothly, “but there are many guests looking to pay their respects to you before departing. Also, I imagine the diviner is exhausted after such an evening and would like to be granted leave.”
Luken looked back to her and murmured something Devlin couldn’t hear. This made the jester incredibly nervous.
But the diviner simply gave a nod and tapped one of the cards lying on the table between them.
Luken looked satisfied and pushed to his feet, thanking her for her services. “If you would see her out, Devlin?” he said, looking back. “Evidently there are guests I must attend to.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Devlin replied, thanking the Patrons for at least this small amount of fortune. Madilaine Savannon was not setting a single foot from this castle until he’d learned what she had seen.
While the prince moved off, the jester stepped forward and helped the diviner from her seat. Hooking her arm through is, he could feel her beginning to tremble.
“Just hold it together a few minutes more,” he directed quietly, starting them at a slow walk toward the exit. Glancing back, he saw Cadien Stavrakos now holding audience with the king, and both were looking his and the diviner’s way. Devlin quickly surmised there would be a price on Madilaine’s head before the hour was out.
Leaving the ballroom, Devlin tugged a red, silken handkerchief from his pocket and then hoped Knoxx was nearby to see it. Following after the clusters of others making their way through the corridors, Devlin slowed their pace even more and waited until those before them had turned a passage. He then moved swiftly, pulling Madilaine in the opposite direction and up a nearby flight of stairs.
She didn’t protest, adding her own urgency to his movements. He took them down two corridors before pausing, finally content they were safely away from any other eyes and ears.
“Knoxx, are you here?” he issued quietly, causing Madilaine to look at him in quick surprise.
“I’m here.” This disembodied voice sounded from only paces away.
“Take her back to my quarters and wait for me there. I’ll come as soon as I can.”
“As you wish,” Knoxx’s voice replied lightly. “Diviner, you’re going to feel an odd sensation, but I urge you not to fight it.”
“All right,” she said, nodding quickly.
Devlin watched as she began fading from sight, her form becoming transparent, then shadowy, and then lost to the eye completely. He gave a nod and then spun to start back the way he’d come. It was possible Reagan had escaped him by this time, but this couldn’t have been helped. Learning what Madilaine Savannon had seen was now his top priority.
He strolled casually back into the ballroom. Prince Luken was no longer positioned at the doors, saying farewell to the guests. Not unexpectedly, Devlin now saw him standing before his father and Stavrakos, and it didn’t appear to be a casual—or pleasant—conversation they were having.
Devlin started for them at a quick pace, silently noting as he crossed the floor that Reagan remained, still upon the dance floor with a few of her co-assistants. Apparently she was a great lover of the music, as well as a fair dancer.
Bracing himself for what he knew he was about to walk into, Devlin approached boldly.
“Devlin!” the king exploded, catching sight of him. “Can you believe the stupidity of my son, having requested a reading!”
Devlin looked about, but apparently Stavrakos had already cleared the immediate area of any witnesses. He stepped up before the king’s seat and halted before offering his response.
“Certainly the prince has nothing to fear from such a situation,” he said. “He is possessed of a pure heart, after all, and one free of secrets.” Those last words had been a dangerous addendum, and he saw Stavrakos grin at him, appreciating his daring.
King DeSiva’s eyes were wild as they stared back at him. “How boring he is isn’t the point, you fool!”
“It is true I would be hesitant to allow any such insight into the future of our next king,” Stavrakos then interjected smoothly. “Certainly she could profit greatly from any weaknesses glimpsed.”
Devlin stared back at the man expressionlessly. It was obvious Stavrakos was just as worried as he was over what had been revealed to the diviner, and admittedly, the easiest recourse would now be to kill her. Rapidly, the jester determined that an agreement to this would be his only way out.
He began nodding thoughtfully. “I see your point, Cadien. Perhaps it’s best we take care of this quickly.”
The prince was looking to them all with horror. “But she spoke of only a peaceful reign! There is no reason at all to take such measures!”
The king snorted at him. “You presume she would have admitted otherwise? Congratulations son, you led that woman straight to her death.” He turned to Stavrakos and Devlin. “I believe this may be the first time the two of you have agreed on anything. Cadien, get word to every assassin in the city. Two hundred gold to whoever brings me her head.”
“At once!” Stavrakos nodded.
“I just saw her out of the castle, upon the prince’s own wishes,” Devlin put in helpfully, further throwing Luken to the wolves. “It is unlikely she’s gotten far.”
The king nodded, and then speared his son with another glare. “I will never understand how I begot such an imbecile. Must be you take after your mother. Pray that you do not meet a similar end.”
Luken looked stunned. He made a fleeting glance, brimming with betrayal, to Devlin, and then turned and fled across the ballroom.
“Cadien, why are you still here?” King DeSiva snapped, reaching to gather up a handful of raisins from a nearby bowl.
“My king!” Stavrakos made a sweeping bow, and then turned to follow in the prince’s wake.
“If his majesty will grant my leave as well, I still have a few matters to see to before my night can conclude,” Devlin said, his eye upon Reagan as she prepared herself to depart.
The king grunted and waved at him dismissively.
Catching sight of Seneschal Galaz as he started away, Devlin motioned for him to take up his place with the king. In his current state of agitation, the Patrons only knew what words might fall from his majesty’s lips, and Devlin wanted the seneschal there in case he slipped anything in regard to his secret business with Stavrakos.
The seneschal gave him an almost imperceptible nod before moving to adhere.
Devlin caught up with Reagan just as she was stepping from the ballroom.
“A word, if you please,” he said, taking a hold of her arm and propelling her forward. There were now several knights patrolling the corridors, there to ensure all guests made their way from the castle, and one stood nearby as Devlin paused before a closed door and pushed it open.
“I require a word with my assistant,” he explained to the knight, shoving Reagan into the room. The knight smirked back at him, his presumptions clear. Devlin swept past and slammed the door behind him.
“What is this all about?” Reagan demanded angrily, rubbing her arm where he’d apparently exerted slightly more force than necessary.
Having no time to do this with his trademark bait-and-trap approach, he simply withdrew the small bottle of poison from his pocket and held it up.
Her face was expressionless as she took it in. “What’s that?” she asked.
He shook his head in admiration. “Reagan, you are without doubt one of the most skilled manipulators
I’ve ever encountered, and that is saying much. But you can drop the act. I have no intention of reporting this.”
She seemed to consider, silent for several moments. “Why not?” she finally asked.
“Because I could do with someone of your talents.”
She looked interested. “And you would trust me? Knowing what I intend?”
“Actually, that is precisely why I would trust you.”
Her eyes narrowed even more. “I do not understand.”
He grinned slightly.
“How did you even learn of this?” she went on, demanding. “Was it the diviner? Did she see my plans?”
There was no reason to lie about it now.
“Yes,” he told her. “And just so you’re aware, she made me vow not to harm you before uttering a word of it.”
Reagan took that in, again considering. Finally, “You still haven’t explained why you would trust me.”
His eyes narrowed upon her slightly. “Because I’m going to give you the opportunity you’ve been seeking. But it must be my way, and only when the time is right.”
She looked astounded, which was not surprising. “How can I believe such words?”
“Would I have any other reason for not reporting this straight away to the royal guard?”
“I suppose not,” she murmured after another long moment. Then, “So how exactly will my talents be useful to you?”
He grinned again. “Your abilities for intriguing and deception will be a great asset to me. There is much going on about Aralexia at present, a silent war with an end still cloaked in shadow. I will have much need of you in the upcoming days and weeks.”
“Then I will see to whatever it is you ask. So long,” she went on, her tone turning hard, “as you fulfill your promise.”
“It appears we’ve struck an accord, then,” he said, nodding. “Now go back to your inn and await further instruction. It may be a few days until you hear from me, so remain patient.”
“I understand.”
She was now gazing at him curiously, and he thought her mind must be buzzing with a thousand questions, namely why he was plotting to betray his own king. But clearly she was also smart enough not to push her luck, for she asked nothing further, a convenient decision since he would not be giving her an explanation anytime soon.
As it happened, she represented a solution to a problem he’d now been pondering over for some time; but with the who now fully established, left only was the question of when. There remained many pieces that still needed to be moved into place.
They left the room without another word, with Reagan turning to leave the castle and him making his way up to his rooms. Uncertain of the scene he would find there, he discovered the diviner in his sitting room, curled upon one of the couches with tear-stained cheeks. Knoxx was standing silently in the corner, and he conveyed his ignorance of the situation with a shrug.
Devlin was not in the mind-set to handle this gently.
“Madilaine,” he began, approaching her, “you must tell me what you saw during Prince Luken’s reading.”
She stared up at him, shocked. “You know I cannot! Such an offense is even worse than lying about what I have read—which I did, you will no doubt be happy to learn!”
He crouched down next to her until their gazes locked. “The king has already placed a price of two hundred gold on your head. If you expect my help in leaving this castle alive, you’d best begin talking.”
She looked stunned, and even Knoxx apparently thought ill of such a tactic.
“Dev . . . .” he started, taking a step nearer.
Devlin shot a glare up at his brother to silence him. “I’m waiting, Madilaine. What did you see?”
Her eyes welled. “The past.”
Well, that held to as much potential disaster as the future.
“What of the past?” he demanded.
“I saw . . . Prince Luken witness his mother’s death.”
Devlin began nodding, understanding her distress. “You saw the king strangling her.”
Her eyes grew with shock. “You knew of this?”
“All of the council knows it. It happened before my time here, but it was their task to cover it up.”
She looked haunted now. “The prince has blocked out the memory, but I saw it clearly, still lingering at the back of his thoughts. At only five years old, it is not hard to understand why his mind shelters him in such a way.”
Devlin had always wondered what, exactly, Luken recalled of the event. But this was not the most important question at hand.
“Did you gain knowledge of why the king did this?” he then asked, trying not to display how very important the answer to this was.
She shook her head, and he nodded again, feeling relief.
“Why should it matter the reason?” she was now demanding, almost yelling. “Our king is a murderer! Of his very own queen! And those like you,” she went on with a glare, “have hid this truth away for years!”
Oh, we’ve hidden a lot more than that.
“Keep your voice down!” he hissed. “And do not be so quick to judge. We have our reasons for this.” He paused and glanced up at his brother, who was still listening silently but with a look now deeply thoughtful.
“What else were you shown in the reading?” Devlin went on, looking back.
“Only his coronation. It will not be far off, considering he did not appear any older than he is now,” she said, still looking at him as though he were a monster.
Devlin nodded. With a would-be assassin in the form of Reagan now standing by, the king’s time in this world was definitely growing short.
“All right, Madilaine,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “I apologize for my harshness, but to avoid future disaster, it was important that I know of this.”
She continued glaring at him, and he turned to Knoxx.
“You’re going to have to be especially careful leaving the castle, for there will likely be assassins all about the surrounding blocks.”
Knoxx nodded. “Where am I taking her?”
Devlin glanced back. “She can’t go to her inn. It’ll be the first place the assassins will look for her. Take her to you own room at the Damsel, and then go inform Oliveah as to her whereabouts. She can further lead you on getting her safely from Aralexia. And diviner,” he added, turning back to her, “once you are free of the city, I would advise you to keep running. For two hundred gold, these assassins will pursue you halfway across the world if they have to.”
Chapter 45