Zenia sensed Lunis hoped the doctor wouldn’t be able to help her.
“Lunis…” Zenia whispered.
“I’m sorry I sent that message,” Lunis whispered.
“What message?” Zenia thought of the man who’d come out to the Nhole cottage. “The one threatening Targyon?”
“Just a bluff. I swear. I knew you’d find out eventually that I’d done it if you kept picking at the loose threads. I knew… I love this job, this career. I wanted to be an agent forever. Maybe one day captain of the agents. I worked so hard as a detective and then here. I just wanted to be someone. Can’t you understand? My family… We were nothing.”
“I can understand.” Zenia did her best to keep judgment out of her tone, but it chilled her that Lunis could have sent the threat. She must have known it would be the end of her career, if not her death, if she were caught. But then, what more did she have to lose? Lunis was right. Zenia and Jev would have figured it out eventually.
“It wasn’t worth it,” Lunis whispered. “My father…”
“The elf killed him?”
“No. Oddly, he kept his word on that, even though he lied about what the liquid would do. He returned my father to me, but Father was irate. He said I’d given in to a coward and an elf. It would have been better if I’d let the elf kill him. It—”
Her voice broke off in a choke or a sob—or both. The doctor frowned at Zenia, as if it was her fault she was upsetting her patient. But Lunis had been upset for weeks. It was amazing she’d held it together in the castle, kept playing the role of the earnest agent, trying to deter Zenia and Jev by putting forth the criminal organizations as the lead suspects.
“He said I’d ruined my life for nothing. We haven’t spoken since.”
“Were you the one to light the farmhouse I was staying at on fire?” Zenia said.
“No.” Lunis bit her lip and turned her head again. “Not on purpose. I hired the Night Travelers to scare you. That was all. Nobody was supposed to be hurt. I just hoped… I hoped you’d be scared enough to go back to the Water Order and give up the case.”
As if Zenia could have gone back.
“There was nothing to be gained by solving the mystery,” Lunis said. “Why couldn’t you all see that? The princes were dead. Targyon should have been happy he inherited power he never could have dreamed of receiving.”
Power that he didn’t, Zenia was fairly certain, want.
“If you’d known me better, you would have known threats and scare tactics wouldn’t make me cast aside an assignment, certainly not one given to me by the king.” But might Zenia have cast it aside if her mother had still been alive and someone had kidnapped her and threatened to kill her? She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not that her mother hadn’t lived long enough to be used as a handle on her by some blackmailing criminal.
“I guess, but I had to try. It was either that or flee the kingdom in ignominy. Exile forever with the fear that the agents would one day catch up with me.” Judging by the wistful expression that crossed Lunis’s face, she wished she’d made exactly that choice.
“Did you dump a vial into Targyon’s drink today?” Zenia asked.
If Lunis had, neither Zenia nor Jev nor anyone they had talked to knew of an antidote. Not to a bacteria protected by some elf’s powerful magic. Some elf that seemed to have a vendetta against the entire royal family. Why?
“No.” Lunis lurched upright, her shoulders lifting from the ground. “I tried to save him. To make up for—” A coughing fit stole the rest of her words.
“Easy, Agent Drem,” the doctor said, frowning and pushing her gently back down. “You were stabbed in the gut. Even with a dragon tear, this will not be a simple procedure. Please cooperate.”
Lunis, her gaze locked onto Zenia, did not look at the doctor. “Please believe me, Captain Cham. You must, right?” Her gaze dipped toward Zenia’s dragon tear. “Must see the truth?”
“Tell me, and I’ll know if it’s the truth.” Zenia thought about willing the gem to let her dip into Lunis’s memories again, but she feared that had taken several long minutes, and she was worried about Targyon—and also about Jev. He’d ridden off after a murderer, someone who might have an ally in the elven ambassador. “Tell me,” she urged, putting some of the dragon tear’s power into the command.
“He came to me last night, the elf scientist. I did research on him afterward to learn what he’s capable of. I believe he may have been testing his concoction on the princes. With the intention to use it on the king if it worked. He said as much, even if he was lying about what it did. He knew I never would have… Zenia? I never would have done it if I’d known it would kill them. Not even for my father.”
“I understand,” Zenia said, struggling again for neutrality. It would be up to Targyon to decide what would happen to Lunis after this. Assuming she lived. “Did he come here to infect the king himself?”
“Yes. I told him to stuff his vial up his ass. If I hadn’t been such a coward, I would have come to you today, told you everything. I almost did. But I thought I could catch him if he showed up. Maybe if I caught him, and he was interrogated and explained how he’d made me…” Lunis rolled her head to the side. “Maybe the king would understand. I never meant to hurt him.”
“Did you see the elf pour a vial into something?” Zenia asked. “The king’s bottle of water?”
She’d witnessed Targyon being careful about what he drank, but maybe with magic, this elf could have uncorked Targyon’s water bottle and floated his vial over to dump in the contents. Maybe he could have done that without being in the same room.
Lunis didn’t answer aloud, but Zenia still had a slight link to her thoughts, and she sensed the answer. No, Lunis hadn’t seen the elf get close to Targyon or his water bottle. He’d appeared for the first time, lurking in the hallway outside the ballroom, and she’d taken off after him.
“I think you’ve asked enough questions for now, Captain,” the doctor said, her eyes closed and her hands resting on Lunis’s bloody abdomen.
“I need to know why this elf wanted Targyon dead,” Zenia said. “I can understand one of their kind targeting Abdor, and if this scientist was truly testing his bacteria before using it on the king, I guess I can understand him targeting the princes, but what would be gained by continuing to attack the royal family? Especially when they have someone reasonable on the throne now, someone who might want peace between our peoples?”
“I don’t know,” Lunis whispered, her head still turned. She gazed blankly at the side of the fountain gurgling next to them, her blood staining it.
“Captain Cham?” a guard asked from behind them.
Reluctantly, Zenia pushed herself to her feet.
“Does she know…” The guard frowned down at Lunis. “The king has retired to his rooms. He doesn’t look well. Another doctor is in with him, but there was a doctor with the princes, too, and they didn’t make it.”
“I know.” Zenia pushed back her hair, wishing she had a clip or tie for it. And wishing she wasn’t stuck in the sausage dress now. “The bacteria that infected the princes was magically altered. I’m not sure there’s anyone here who can thwart it.” She looked at the doctor working on Lunis.
The woman lifted her gaze briefly, but only long enough to shake her head. “It wouldn’t be me. If Dr. Bandigor couldn’t unravel the mystery, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to.”
“We can’t just let him die, ma’am,” the guard said. “We’ll have failed him, and he’s a good boy. King. He will be. I know he’s young, but he fought in the war. He deserves to be here, to live.”
Zenia agreed wholeheartedly. “He will. We’ll—”
She halted, the guard’s words ringing in her mind. “He did fight in the war, didn’t he?”
“Not as long as some, but for two years.”
“Long enough to have killed a few elves,” Zenia guessed.
It was hard to imagine young Targyon firing into the tree
s and jumping up and down with bloodlust, but if one was thrust into the middle of a battle, what choice did one have but to defend oneself? And those one cared about.
“I imagine so, ma’am. He’s a hero.”
Except to those on the other side. Such as this elf scientist? Had he looked into Targyon’s past and decided that he didn’t want someone ruling over Kor who’d fought against elves? Maybe killed elves?
“There has to be a cure,” the guard added.
“If there is, there’s one person who’ll know what it is.”
The person who’d tinkered with the bacterium in the first place.
“Will you get me a horse, please? I’m going after Zyndar Dharrow. I’ve got to find him before he and those guards catch up to that elf and kill him.”
If the elf died, the cure would die with him.
19
Jev arrived at the elven embassy with the only castle guard who’d been able to keep up with him, the other man with a horse. As they dismounted in front of the gate, images of the hulking creature springing to mind, Jev worried that it wouldn’t be enough. He hoped Lornysh was inside, sipping elven wine and reading the brochure from some museum, and that he would be willing to raise arms against his own people.
Only one side of the double gate was closed. The other banged gently in a salty breeze sweeping up from the docks.
“It’s not a haunted tower, is it?” his companion asked.
“Just protected by archers, magic, and a man-eating creature.”
“That’s a relief.”
Jev, eyeing the garden foliage visible from the gate and certain he saw something stirring back there, would have preferred to deal with a haunted tower, especially since he’d never seen a ghost, if such things truly existed, or had one attack him.
“We could use some reinforcements, Corporal,” Jev admitted, glancing at the guard’s uniform to see the rank on his sleeves.
“Tames, sir. It’s an honor to work with you.”
“Will it still be an honor if we get eaten by a monster?”
“My boss says the greatest thing we can do is give our lives to save the king. I’m less certain about saving zyndar agents working for the king.”
“If we catch up with that elf, we might very well be able to save the king.” Jev sure hoped so. The elf had to know how to counteract his own concoction, didn’t he?
Jev drew his pistol and was tempted to sprint for the front door, but that approach hadn’t worked last time, and he suspected the same guards were on duty. And—yes, damn it—there was a glint of something yellow in the shadows. Two somethings. Eyes.
He thought about sending Tames to run in one direction as a diversion but well remembered how his bullet had done nothing to stop the creature. He might be sending Tames to his death.
Raucous laughter came from the tavern down the street, its door open and tobacco smoke wafting out along with the noise. Jev glared briefly in that direction, annoyed that people were obliviously getting drunk while Targyon was in danger. They ought to—
“I have an idea,” he blurted.
Tames looked warily at him. “It doesn’t involve me sacrificing myself so you can get in, does it?” The guard must have been having thoughts similar to Jev’s. “Because I’ve noticed how in all the children’s stories, the nameless castle guards usually die while the zyndar heroes save the princess.”
“Fortunately for you, you’ve told me your name, and no princesses are in jeopardy tonight. Tames, go meet me around back.”
“There’s not a gate on the other side. I’ve been here before.”
“I know, but we’ll go over the wall. Once I arrange a diversion.” Jev slapped Tames on the shoulder and raced to the tavern. He hated wasting time, but if he couldn’t get inside the tower, he might never find that elf. Would he stay locked up inside once he believed he was safe, or would he merely grab his belongings and sneak out of the city? As old as that tower was, there might be a secret passage into the tunnels under Korvann.
Jev ran into the noisy taproom and jumped onto a table with two people sitting at it—it was the least empty of the options near the door. They cursed and grabbed their steins to protect them.
“What’re you doing, you loon?” one cried.
“Subjects of Kor!” Jev yelled, waving his pistol while wishing he had an old broadsword to wave instead. Giant blades were better at getting attention than little firearms. “The king has been poisoned!”
He worried the boisterous drinkers would ignore him, no matter how loudly he yelled, but steins clunked down to tables, and people turned toward him.
“I am Zyndar Jevlain Dharrow and have been tasked to capture the elf who poisoned him. I have to drag him back to the castle because only he knows the cure.”
“An elf! Those dragon-humping bastards!”
Dozens of similar oaths of agreement erupted from the mouths of the patrons.
“I need your help,” Jev yelled over them. “He’s in the embassy tower, but it’s guarded by elves and a huge fanged monster.”
Technically, Jev hadn’t seen the fangs last time, but he assumed they were there. What kind of guard monster wouldn’t have fangs?
A testament to the men’s bravery—or drunkenness—they didn’t immediately throw up their hands or look away.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jev said. “Just keep that monster distracted. Throw rocks from outside the gate and taunt it. I’ll buy you a round of drinks afterward.”
“Death to the elves!” someone cried.
“We’ll get rid of those stinking elves.”
Men sprang from their chairs and raced for the door. Jev realized he needn’t have promised drinks. These men probably glared at that tower every time they came to the pub.
“Just the monster,” Jev yelled as men flowed past him. “And you don’t need to kill it. Just distract it.”
But the shouting men didn’t hear him. One broke a chair and turned the legs into four clubs. He kept one for himself and thrust the others at comrades. Other men pulled knives as they raced out the door.
Jev grimaced, afraid of what he’d just launched. He glimpsed the bartender glaring at him with his fists on his hips. Because of the broken chair and the loss of clients? He seemed to have gotten over the attraction he’d admitted to last time.
Jev jumped down from the table and pushed his way into the flow of men. He almost took an excited elbow in the eye.
As soon as he made it outside, he veered away from the river of men rushing toward the front gate. He sprinted around the walled compound, not certain how much time these men would buy him. Would the elves—and creature—inside even be fooled?
Tames waited on the far side of the compound, and Jev pointed toward the top of the vine-covered wall. Tames crouched and cupped his hands. Jev raced up, stepped into his grip, and Tames hefted him into the air.
It wasn’t enough of a boost to reach the top, but Jev gripped a couple of the sturdy vines and pulled himself up the last two feet. He flung himself atop the wall and reached a hand down to help Tames as he peered into the interior of the garden.
The trees and brush were thick back here, flowers and foliage blocking much of the view. He could barely see the tower through it, but he glimpsed a path not far from the wall. He also glimpsed someone running along it. One of the guards.
Jev grimaced. Even with the clamor at the front of the compound, he doubted he would be able to walk up to the front door. As Tames reached the top of the wall, Jev looked toward the tower, toward the fourth-floor windows. One of those windows ought to belong to Lornysh. Even if he wasn’t home, his room should be safe to invade.
Jev and Tames slithered down the back side of the wall and crept through the trees. A heavy crunch sounded to one side, and Jev froze. The creature? Or another creature?
Twigs snapped, branches rattled, and whatever it was charged toward the front of the tower. Jev continued on, angling toward the back of the structure. He darted ac
ross the path he’d seen and pushed into the brush on the other side. Thorns and branches clawed at his clothing.
“We’re climbing?” Tames asked as they reached the stone wall of the tower.
Jev ran his fingers over the ancient stone and the mortar that had been reapplied in a more recent century. He wouldn’t want to scramble down the outside of the tower, as the handholds were scant at best, but he thought they could make it up.
“Only halfway.”
“I don’t see any doors.”
“We’re aiming for that window.” Jev nodded toward the visible one. “Or maybe the one on the other side of it.” That was the one that faced the tavern rooftop, the one Cutter could conceivably hit with pebbles.
“Your certainty is reassuring, sir.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Jev found his first handhold and pulled himself up. “You might want to climb off to the side. In case I fall. Then I won’t fall on top of you.”
Tames grumbled something under his breath. Jev didn’t hear the word reassuring again. He might have heard the words zyndar idiot.
Shouts and bangs echoed from the other side of the garden. Thanks to the curve of the tower and all the foliage, Jev couldn’t see his volunteer legions yet. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He hoped they were staying outside the gate and that none of them would be hurt.
He also hoped neither guards nor monsters thought to look up at the side of the tower. Most of the trees in the garden weren’t that tall, and they would be visible once they passed the third-floor windows.
Tames cursed several times as he climbed up beside Jev. Jev’s fingers already ached, so he couldn’t blame the guard. They struggled to find footholds to support their weight so they had to rely on their arm strength.
“Just a little further,” Jev whispered, not sure if the words were for Tames or himself.
Jev waited until he reached the fourth floor before angling around the structure toward the front window. A thud sounded almost directly below him, and he froze, terrified Tames had fallen. But Tames was frozen to the side of the tower like a tick. They were above the tower entrance now, and two elves had sprinted out, slamming the door behind them.