Мария Снайдер - Fire Study - Study 03
“Where did you stay?”
“I had a room in Valek’s suite.”
Leif shot me an incredulous look. “Boy, you worked fast.”
“And you assume too much.” One day I would tell Leif and my parents about my ordeal, but not today.
Leif grew thoughtful. Tauno napped in one of the wooden chairs. I marveled at how the Sandseed could wedge himself into a small space and still look comfortable. During our time together, he had adapted to being within walls.
Moon Man, on the other hand, fidgeted in his chair. I couldn’t determine if his discomfort grew from being in a confined space or from my hostility. He claimed I had a new Story Weaver. It was an easy way for him to avoid telling me the truth.
Knowing we were headed toward Ixia, Cahil must have planned Marrok’s escape.
The Sitian guards who chased them were probably part of the ruse, too.
I longed to pace the room. The wait stretched as long as a necklace snake. There was nothing to avert me from my list of worries. Valek remained near the top. Where was he? By this time, he should be back in Ixia. Thoughts circled in my mind. To distract myself, I sat in one of the hard chairs near the only window. Outside, a portion of the barracks and practice yard where the Commander’s soldiers lived and trained was visible, reminding me of Ari and Janco, my soldier friends who, according to Maren, were now Valek’s seconds in command.
I stood, desiring action. Perhaps I should just go to the Commander’s office. I knew how to get there, and I hated this unsettled sensation sloshing in the pit of my stomach. Why was I so on edge?
Understanding crashed through me and I needed to sit down again. Inside these walls I had always been a prisoner. Either by the bars of the dungeon or by the belief I had ingested a poison called Butterfly’s Dust, knowing I couldn’t get far without the daily antidote keeping me alive. And all the logic in the world couldn’t convince my body I was free.
Finally, an adviser arrived to lead us though the main corridors of the castle. Leif gasped in surprise when we entered the main hall. Greeted by the sight of the silk and gold tapestries hanging in tatters, I sympathized with my brother’s reaction. Black paint stained the once famous quilts that had symbolized each province during the King’s era. They now represented the takeover. The old provinces had been torn apart and borders redrawn into eight neat Military Districts.
Commander Ambrose’s disdain for opulence, excess and greed was evident in every part of the stone building. Stripped of the trappings of royalty, the castle had been robbed of its soul, and reassigned as a basic utilitarian structure.
The transformation of the throne room was another example of his disregard. Instead of lavish decorations and thick carpets, the room buzzed with the activity of numerous advisers and military officers from every Military District in Ixia, with no sign of a dais or throne in sight. With desks wedged in tight together, getting the five of us through the room turned into an exercise in agility as we threaded our way toward the back.
The Commander’s office matched the rest of the castle. Stark, neat and organized, the room lacked personality but reflected its occupant perfectly.
Wearing a tailored black uniform with real diamonds glittering from his collar, Commander Ambrose stood when we entered. I studied his clean-shaven face as I introduced him to my companions, detecting only a faint resemblance to Ambassador Signe. As if they were truly cousins instead of the same person.
The power of his gaze, though, remained the same. My heart flipped in my chest when he focused his gold-colored eyes on me.
“This is an unexpected visit, Liaison Yelena. I trust you have a good reason for bypassing standard protocol,” he said, raising a single slender eyebrow.
“An excellent reason, sir. I believe Sitia will try to mount an offensive against you.”
The Commander glanced at my companions as he considered my words. More gray had infiltrated his black hair, which had been cropped so short it looked as if Kiki had grazed on it.
Walking to his office’s door, the Commander called to one of his men.
“Adviser Reydon, please escort our guests to the dining hall for lunch and then to the guest suite.” He turned to the others. “The Liaison will dine with me and meet up with you later.”
Leif looked to me for guidance. I opened my mind to him.
Do you want us to stay? he asked.
I don’t think you have a choice.
He isn’t my Commander. I don’t have to listen to him.
A childish, stubborn remark. Perhaps Leif felt left out. Be a good guest and do as he says. I’ll let you know what happens.
You sure you don’t need backup? This guy creeps me out.
Leif, I warned.
He left the office with obvious reluctance, shooting me an annoyed frown before following the adviser.
When the room emptied, the Commander gestured for me to sit in the chair in front of his desk. Unnerved, I perched on the edge.
He served me a cup of tea before settling behind his desk. I sipped the drink with care, testing for poisons. In command of a powerful military and with eight ambitious generals to oversee, the Commander needed a food taster on his staff.
“Why have you come?” he asked.
“I told you. Sitia plans—”
He stopped me with a dismissive wave. “You know that’s old news. Why are you really here?”
“To ask you to delay a first strike.”
“Why?”
I paused, gathering my thoughts. Only logic would persuade the Commander. “The Sitian Council has had a dramatic change of opinion from wanting to trade and communicate with you to being terrified of you.”
“Yes. They’re very unstable.”
“But not that unstable. They’re being influenced.”
“With magic?” The Commander said the word as if it pained him.
General Brazell and Mogkan—my kidnappers—had used magic and Theobroma on him to gain control of his mind despite his ban on magicians. Though his firm censure softened, the Commander still viewed magicians as untrustworthy. Consenting to let me act as Liaison for Ixia had been his first and only concession.
Valek had theorized the Commander feared magicians, but I believed it had more to do with what the Commander referred to as his mutation. Born with a female body, he believed his soul was a man’s and he worried a magician would expose him. But from my interaction with him when he had been disguised as the female Ambassador Signe, I had sensed the presence of two souls within his body.
Standing in front of him, I suppressed the desire to project into his mind, avoiding even a surface sweep. It would be a serious breach of protocol. Besides, it felt wrong.
“Magic could be a factor, but there could be another reason or even a person influencing them. At this point I don’t know, but I want to find out. If you kill them all, you might not solve the problem and those who replace them will be worse,” I said.
“Sounds rather vague. Perhaps you have more information on this?” The Commander flourished a scroll then handed it to me.
I unrolled the parchment. Each word I read increased my concern and outrage.
“And if you notice—” he leaned over and tapped the bottom “—it’s signed by all the Councilors, but it’s lacking two Master Magicians’ signatures. Curious.”
Curious wouldn’t be the word I would use. Disastrous sounded more fitting. I worried about Irys and Bain. If the Council tried to coerce their signatures, what had happened to them by refusing? I focused on the paper in my hand. Fretting wouldn’t help Irys and Bain.
In short, the letter warned the Commander about my renegade status and suggested my treasonous companions and I be killed on sight. Probably the reason Roze had been confident I wouldn’t be safe in Ixia.
“They seek to undermine your credibility all the while planning to attack me. Do they think I’m a simpleton?” He relaxed back in his chair and sighed. “Explain to me exactly what’s going on.”
“If I knew exactly, then I wouldn’t have sounded so vague.” My turn to sigh. I wiped a hand over my face, thinking how best to tell the Commander about Cahil. Did I mention the Fire Warper or not? I had no idea what role he played in all this. Exactly the problem.
So I explained about Ferde’s escape with Cahil’s help and how Cahil had turned it all around to implicate Marrok, Leif and me.
“Sounds like assassinating the Council would be a good deed for Sitia,” the Commander said.
“That would give Cahil and his cohorts evidence they were right to suspect you. Sitia would rally behind them in support. Valek agrees with me. He hasn’t targeted the Council yet. He’s on his way here.”
If the Commander was surprised, he didn’t show it. “So you already delayed my preemptive strike. Yet you have no proof.”
“None. That’s why I wanted you to wait before launching another attack. We need more information. Valek and I—”
The office door opened. Star came into the room, carrying a tray of food. The Commander’s food taster froze in shock when she recognized me. My own pulse skipped when I saw my old uniform being worn by her. And not just any woman, but the former Captain Star, who had been the leader of a successful black market and racketeering ring before Valek uncovered her operation.
Star stared daggers at me. Her goon’s unsuccessful attempt on my life had led to her capture. Already warned about Valek’s setup, Star could have disappeared into her own underground network. Instead, she had let petty vengeance rule her and now she tasted food for the Commander.
“At least you survived the training,” I said to her.
She looked away. The long red curls of her hair had been tied into a sloppy knot, and her prominent nose led the way as she walked. Putting the tray onto the Commander’s desk, she performed a fast taste and left. Even though two lunches had been set on the tray, she tested only the one.
I eyed my food. Star seemed surprised at my presence, but that could have been an act. She could still be nursing her desire for revenge. The Commander handed me a plate. Not to appear rude, I took a tentative bite of the meat pie, chewing slowly and rolling the food around my tongue. The beef was flavored with rosemary and ginger and lacked poisons. At least, I couldn’t taste the poisons I remembered. I lost my appetite when I remembered Moon Man’s comment about learning by doing and how easy it was to forget dictated information.
We talked about minor things while eating. When I complimented his new chef on the lemon-wedge dessert, he told me Sammy now held the position.
“Rand’s fetch boy?” I asked. He was thirteen years old.
“He worked with Rand for four years and it became evident only he knew all the ingredients in Rand’s secret recipes.”
“But he’s so young.” The kitchen during meal times had been a cacophony of ordered chaos guided by Rand’s firm hand.
“I gave him a week to prove he could do it. He’s still there.”
I had forgotten age didn’t matter to the Commander. He could have forced Sammy to divulge the recipes, but he respected ability over experience or gender. My young friend, Fisk the beggar boy turned entrepreneur, would have flourished in Ixia.
