Hunter's Season

  “There was trouble?” Tiago asked.

  “Yes. A young medusa also resided in Devil’s Gate, and she was known to argue publicly with Lord Thruvial. When his other attendants found him poisoned, they started an outcry that ran through the camp. They insisted that she was the one who poisoned him, and she was taken and locked up to be hung.” Her expression turned bitter. “The whole thing was entirely my fault. I did not consider all the ramifications of what might happen if I killed him in such a fashion. I simply saw my opportunity and took it.”

  Niniane leaned forward. “You can’t consider how everybody might react to something. It’s too much to ask of yourself.”

  Other than a quick glance at the Queen, Aubrey’s gaze returned to Xanthe’s face. He was interested to note that her self-recriminating expression hadn’t changed even though the Queen herself offered absolution. This young soldier had a strong set of scruples.

  He asked in a quiet voice, “Is the medusa girl all right?”

  She turned to him quickly. “Yes, my lord. While I waited and watched for an opportunity to help, her aunt and a friend came. Together we were all able to get out.” She looked at Tiago and Niniane. “You actually know them—it was Duncan Turner and Dr. Seremela Telemar.”

  Aubrey was acquainted with Duncan slightly, for he had met the young Vampyre when Niniane had travelled from Chicago to Adriyel for her coronation. Niniane had been accompanied by a Dark Fae delegation, along with the Vampyre Carling Severan, who had been a member of the Elder tribunal, and her attendants. Aubrey didn’t know the physician, but it was clear from Tiago and Niniane’s intense startlement that they knew both of the others.

  “You already said that everybody is all right, but how are Duncan and Seremela?” Niniane asked. She sounded wistful. “I would love to see them again.”

  “They were quite well when I took my leave,” Xanthe told her. “And so was Dr. Telemar’s niece. They said to offer you their very best wishes.”

  Tiago nodded to her in approval. “Despite your misgivings, it sounds like all ended well.”

  She hesitated. “That’s not all, sir.”

  Aubrey set his cup down as Tiago’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

  She straightened her knife in precise alignment with her fork, gaze focused on her hand, as she said, “Lord Thruvial’s other two attendants caught up with us before we could get clear away. Duncan Turner and I had to kill them. The fight was not quiet, and there may have been witnesses. Before that point, I had declared publicly that I was in support of the young medusa’s innocence.” This time when she lifted her gaze, her expression was resigned. “I’m the only surviving member from Thruvial’s household, and I disappeared right after his attendants were killed. For any particularly clever observer, it would not be hard to put two and two together, and there were any number of clever people at Devil’s Gate. With information now flowing freely from America into Adriyel…” She let her voice trail away into silence.

  Tiago folded his arms as he regarded her. “Your identity has been compromised. I cannot use you for other undercover assignments.”

  Xanthe’s shoulders slumped. Even though she had been the one to bring the point up, Aubrey could see how clearly Tiago’s words disappointed her. Something about it moved him. Loyalty and dedication were precious things, and hers showed in her eyes, shining straight like a sword.

  He heard himself saying, “Do not distress yourself over this. Your service will not go unrewarded. You are too valuable of an asset to waste.”

  This time when she looked at him, she did not glance quickly and away. Instead she met and held his gaze. He found himself looking at her deeply. He did not know what he saw in her eyes—surprise? Gratitude? He did not know her well enough to read the nuances.

  “I like her,” Niniane said suddenly. Her voice broke the unexpected connection that had grown between them, and they both turned to her. The Queen rested her chin in one hand as she studied Xanthe. “She’s discreet, she rescues kittens and she cares about the consequences of her actions.” She said to Tiago, “I want her.”

  His expression turned indulgent. “If you want her, you can have her.”

  “Well, thank you,” Niniane said, “but I think we should consult with her about that.” She turned back to Xanthe. “What do you think? Would you like to come work with me as one of my attendants? Please answer truthfully. I know guard duty isn’t for everyone, and those who have been close to me in the last year have not fared very well.” A shadow darkened her eyes, and Aubrey remembered the casualties from last year, a bright human woman named Cameron Rogers who died while saving Niniane’s life, and Arethusa, the late Commander of the Dark Fae army.

  As he thought of them, his heart felt as heavy as a stone, and as dead. So many deaths, so much grief, that Naida had caused.

  Niniane shook herself visibly and continued. “Perhaps you are no longer interested in active duty or this position, so you won’t hurt my feelings if you would rather not. We will make sure that you are placed in a position to which you are suited and that will make you happy.”

  Pleasure had lit Xanthe’s expression, and in that moment she was truly beautiful. “I’m deeply honored, your grace, and I would love to work for you.”

  The shadows disappeared from Niniane’s gaze, and she clapped her hands. “Oh goody!”

  “I promised her time off first,” Tiago said. “She’s earned it.”

  “Of course she has,” Niniane said. She asked Xanthe, “How much time would you like?”

  “Might I take a sevenday?” the other woman asked in a diffident tone.

  “You have been gone for some time. You may take a month—I mean a moon—if you like,” Niniane told her. “Are you sure a sevenday is sufficient?”

  Xanthe nodded.

  “Very well, come to me first thing on the eighth day.” Niniane gestured to Xanthe’s unfinished plate of food. “Have you had all that you want?”

  “Yes, your grace.”

  “Then your vacation begins now. Thank you for telling us what happened, and enjoy your sevenday.”

  Xanthe stood, bowed deeply to Niniane, inclined her head at Tiago and Aubrey, and left.

  Silence fell over the three who remained on the terrace, as Niniane resumed work on her breakfast and Tiago sank deep into his thoughts.

  Aubrey finished his tea, his own thoughts turning dark as they always did anymore when he looked inward. He suspected that the most interesting part of his day had just taken her leave.

  After Niniane finished her meal, she turned her attention to him and began asking questions. He had breakfast with Niniane a few times every sevenday, so that he could keep her abreast of the latest happenings in the congress and the courts. Sometimes Tiago joined them, and sometimes he didn’t. After listening to their conversation for several minutes, Tiago excused himself.

  The rest of Aubrey’s schedule was filled with the never ending administrative part of his duties as Chancellor. He found himself wondering what the young soldier, Xanthe, was doing with the first of her sevenday, and how she was enjoying her time off. While she must have been around before on the extensive palace grounds, she would have been virtually anonymous among all of the black uniformed guards, and he had never noticed her before.

  What would that quiet, reserved woman do for pleasure? Did she read, or work with metal, or garden or paint? After having been gone for so long, she must feel quite out of touch with her friends, if she had any. It was hard to maintain friendships when one worked as an agent for the crown.

  As the afternoon faded to evening, his thoughts turned to Naida’s family. The Ealdun family were minor nobility and much poorer than Aubrey. Naida’s marriage to Aubrey had been advantageous to them in every way, and now they had not only lost that connection by marriage, but their daughter had been branded a traitor.

  Aubrey hadn’t minded either the social and financial differences, or the age difference, as Naida had been much younger than he. He
had not loved Naida the way that Niniane and Tiago loved each other. He couldn’t remember if he had ever hoped to find that kind of fierce, passionate love. If he had, it was lost in the distance of his long ago youth.

  But he had known long, deeply caring liaisons with many lovers, and he had enjoyed his marriage with Naida, enjoyed having her companionship in the daytime hours and in bed. She had been clever, strong minded, and quick to grasp political and social nuances, and she had been funny, her wit dry and often sardonic. He had loved and respected her, and had considered her a good partner and a friend.

  He had trusted her.

  What she had done had come as a raw shock. Her attempts to kill Niniane were not only a betrayal of the true heir, but most importantly, they were a betrayal of him. What she had done went against everything that Aubrey stood for and believed in, and if she had succeeded in killing Niniane, he knew that she would have never told him what she had done.

  In the aftermath of her death, he doubted himself and his own judgment of people. He might have missed her, except when the shock and guilt eased enough for other feelings to come in, he felt so angry at her for what she had done. He wanted to shout at her and throw her out of house, and he could do none of that of because she was dead.

  He had no idea how he would ever grow to trust someone again. He felt so angry all of the time, and bitter. He felt cheated. He understood how the Ealduns might feel angry and cheated too.

  How would they react to the news of the Queen’s dismissal? He believed they would take it very badly and he braced himself for the possibility of ugly missives awaiting him when he arrived home, or even a confrontation in public or possible retaliation in another way.

  They had already dropped out of social gatherings, and it would be some years before their reputation recovered enough for them to receive invitations again. Prosecuting him had been, among other things, a way for them to try to distance themselves from the stain of what Naida had done. They could have claimed horror and righteous indignation, and they must have hoped to turn censure away by pointing fingers at someone else, but now that avenue had been denied them.

  He also understood Niniane’s anger and the reasons for her dismissal of the Ealdun’s lawsuit, but he could not help but wish it had been allowed to run its course.

  For one thing, he had been most interested to find out what evidence the Ealdun s might offer up to the court as proof of his undue influence over Naida.

  He had wanted to know just how far they would go for money, and for their pride.

  Perhaps he could still find out. He sent for one of his junior secretaries, a steady, discreet fellow named Sebrin who had a very sharp mind. Once Sebrin had stepped inside his office, he nodded for the younger male to shut the door.

  “You might have heard the news by now,” he said. “The Queen has dismissed the Ealduns’ lawsuit against me.”

  “Oh, very good, sir,” said Sebrin, which did not happen to confirm whether he had heard already or not.

  Aubrey suppressed a smile. Discreet, indeed. He was pleased with his choice in hiring Sebrin. He said, “I want you to dig quietly into the details of that lawsuit. See if you discover what sort of evidence they claimed to have. I don’t expect they would have had time to file anything detailed, so this will probably not be in court records. You may have to travel to the Ealdun’s home seat.” He paused. “Do you understand what I am asking you to do?”

  He could see in the other man’s intelligent expression that Sebrin understood him perfectly. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Do you have any problem with the assignment?”

  “Not at all, my lord.” Sebrin added emphasis to each word, his eyes sparkling. “I think it will be quite interesting.”

  “Very good. Be careful and keep your head down. That will be all.” He sat back in his chair, his hands steepled together as he watched Sebrin bow and take his leave.

  He wasn’t sure what he would do with the answers when he received them, but it still felt good to take at least some kind of action. He hoped he would be wrong, but he fully expected to be incensed at whatever Sebrin might find. After all, the Ealduns would not have filed a lawsuit if they hadn’t believed they could argue a case against him.

  In the meantime, he would get nothing else accomplished at work that day. As the sun dipped below the horizon, he finally sent his secretaries off. Then as was his habit, he walked the short distance along torch lit streets to the stylish neighborhood near the palace where his house was located.

  It was an old and gracious building, and despite the triads of servants it held to fulfill his every whim, somehow it was still quite empty.

  Chapter Three

  Death

  “It’s the Queen, isn’t it?” Xanthe asked Inanna’s card that night.

  The love of one’s country could certainly be personified as the love of one’s Queen. This possibility fit even better than the kitten had.

  The card, of course, made no comment. Divination came through Elder Tarot decks in ways other than outright language, depending on which card spread one laid. All the Major Arcana were the seven Elder gods, the primal Powers that moved and sustained the universe. Love, Death, Will, Law, The Depths, The Hearth. And the god who was god over all the others, The Dance.

  All the Minor Arcana were the various aspects of each god. The nuances were in the combinations. Love and Death could mean grief or loss. Love and Will, which was sometimes known as The Gift, could mean sacrifice. The most accurate and comprehensive messages were found in a complete spread.

  At least, that was true of a normal Tarot deck.

  When she had traveled back from Devil’s Gate to Chicago with Duncan Turner, Seremela Telemar and her niece, Xanthe had cheated.

  Because Seremela was a physician with highly trained magical skills, the others had assumed that she was the expert when she examined the mysterious Tarot deck that her niece had stolen. And she was, mostly. All Xanthe had to do was remain silent while she watched and listened. She learned that despite Seremela’s expertise, the physician couldn’t identify what kind of Power infused the cards, or what the Power might mean, or how it might exert influence on the world around it.

  Xanthe never told them that she knew how to lay a Tarot spread. She also never told them of the tiny suspicion that had been born as she listened to Seremela speculate. She simply took the opportunity to gain possession of the cards when it presented itself.

  The others expected her to take the deck to Dark Fae elders and experts.

  She might do that, eventually.

  There were ancient shrines dotted throughout Adriyel, dedicated to each of the Elder gods. She might also take the deck to each of the shrines to see if something happened, although she had not decided about that. For now Seremela had said the Power in the deck had pulled to Xanthe, and so she honored the deck’s wishes by keeping it.

  The oldest of the old Dark Fae legends spoke of Powerful things that existed, put into the world by the gods to enact their will. If this was such an incredibly rare item, and if Xanthe had the knowledge, Power and skill with which to use it, she could come to rule the Dark Fae if she so wished.

  If and if. For all their vast power, the gods could not take away a person’s free will, and Xanthe did not so wish. Nor did she have the knowledge, Power or skill. She hadn’t even gotten up the courage to actually lay out a complete spread, although she would one day soon.

  For now she held the cards and shuffled them. She enjoyed the gentle, mellow feel of the Power that soaked into her hands as she handled them, and she liked to study the lovely hand-painted images while quiet whispers and vague images brushed along the edges of her mind.

  And she took sober, respectful note of how Inanna’s card continued to surface.

  Part of why she lacked the courage to lay a complete spread was she did not want to witness an augury that was filled with sacrifice or grief. Instead, she liked to imagine that Inanna’s card meant good things, light things.


  Her long trip from home had been dark and violent. She had witnessed Thruvial and the others do things that turned her stomach and sickened her soul, and she had to do all of that with more than just an expressionless face. If she could not manage enjoyment, she had to at least feign support. She had not known from day to day if she would even survive the trip. There had been many nights when she would lie awake and wonder if she would die alone without friends.

  Now, even if it was only for a little while, she needed to imagine those good, light things.

  “You would not deny me that, would you?” she asked Inanna.

  The woman on the card. She was so strong, so strong.

  Xanthe spent her sevenday working on the cottage, cutting and weeding away the long tangled foliage, arranging for wood to be delivered, and walking the short path to sit and dream by the Adriyel River. Sometimes she fished for her supper. Sometimes she waded in the shallows at the edge of the river where she had played as a child.

  Sometimes she watched the river barges until the sun dropped low and shone a shimmering path on the dappled, mysterious surface, beckoning her to walk an impossible journey on the water into the light.

  She spoke to as few people as possible and let the silence sink into her soul. It washed away some of the terrible stains, not all, but enough so that she did not lie awake at night, dwelling on thoughts of her own death.

  On the eighth day, first thing in the morning, she presented herself at the palace to await the Queen’s pleasure.

  The Queen was very pleased indeed.

  “Whee!” said Niniane, grinning widely as Xanthe stepped into her apartment. “There you are! I’m so excited that you are here. Did you have a good time on your vacation? Did you get enough rest? I will be most unhappy if you ever try to fib to me because it is something you think I want to hear.”