Diomere's Exile

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

Gregor walked into Stefan’s receiving chamber, and crossed to the sideboard to fix a drink. He’d spent the last half hour walking the gardens thinking about Nadia’s claims. When it was clear that he was getting nowhere, he’d decided to come discuss it with Stefan, praying his closest friend would see things more clearly than he did.

Gregor took a long pull from his glass then turned to face the prince. “She has Reis,” he muttered. “However, if what she says is true then he’s probably safer where she’s stashed him than he would be here with us.”

Stefan set aside the report and sat back, a frown on his face. “Explain.”

Gregor met his closest friend’s grim gaze. “I’ve been dreaming of her. Strange erotic dreams located on an island far out in the Saimond Sea.” Stefan raised his brows, and Gregor continued. “The dreams start with us floating in the water, scaled fish tails where our legs should be. Then we swim to shore and our fins become legs.”

“You’ve always had a special interest in the Mer,” Stefan said.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever told about those dreams,” Gregor said, then drained his glass and set it aside. “Yet she knew about them.”

“What are you saying?”

“I told you she’s here looking for her nephew.” Stefan nodded. “Well, she believes your brother is that child, the lost heir of Diomere. She knew about the incident during your fishing trip. Says Reis is like her.”

Stefan, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth, stood and began to pace. “So she risked my wrath and just abducted him? Why not come to me or you?” he asked, jabbing his finger into the air with each question.

“She claims he went willingly,” Gregor said, flashes of conversation he’d had with Nadia, Arri, and Reis spilling across his memory. “They believe they’re protecting us from something.”

“War,” Stefan muttered.

“Loyalty,” Gregor said at the same time.

Stefan stopped pacing to stare out the large window which looked out over the palace gardens. “Reis came to me the other day, and asked about his mother and his birth. He hadn’t realized that he wasn’t born here.” The prince turned to face Gregor, his brow wrinkled. “I told him about his mother’s absence soon after announcing the pregnancy. He asked how our father knew for sure he was of the Dieuroi’s blood. I told him only our father would know that. Unfortunately, my father’s condition has significantly reduced his reliability for any kind of logical conversation.” Prince Stefan rubbed one hand along the back of his neck. “My father’s become more and more paranoid and unstable as his head pains worsen. I imagine Lady de Quinones fears that my father will try to use Reis as a political pawn, and that we’ll be forced to choose between loyalty to Thuno or Diomere.”

Gregor felt his stomach drop. “Then it’s possible? He really could be Diomere’s lost heir?” He jumped to his feet. “We need to bring Nadia in here, have her show us her proof. If she feels that we believe her and that we won’t turn around and harm the boy, she’ll let us see him.”

Stefan nodded. “Do it.”

Before Gregor could take more than a step toward the door, Stefan’s steward knocked and stuck his head in. “I’m sorry, your highness, but one of the guards from the dungeons has an urgent message for Lord Cyrene.”

“Show him in,” Prince Stefan ordered.

The door opened wider and the guard Gregor had left in front of Nadia’s cell appeared, his face pale.

Gregor pinned the older man with a narrow-eyed gaze. “Why aren’t you guarding Lady de Quinones’ cell?”

“Three of Dieuroi Mavros’ Questioners came and said they’d been ordered by Prince Stefan to discover where she’d taken Prince Reis. They knocked her out, and dragged her from the dungeons.”

Gregor swung around to face Stefan.

The prince frowned. “I didn’t give any orders to anyone save you.”

Gregor turned back to the guard. “What did this Questioner look like?”

“He had light colored hair. She called him Pell.”

Stefan frowned. “He’s the one that told me she found the body of Diomere’s prince, and that she wanted revenge against my family.”

Gregor moved toward the door. “He came to Thuno with Nadia, and it sounds like he’s playing both sides against the middle. I have to find her.”

The guard stepped in front of him. “You’ll want to talk to Sarna, m’lord.”

Gregor gave the man a hard look. “You’re one of the Shark’s people.”

The older man shrugged. “Retired guild. Lady Nadia and Geeta look in on me from time to time. Make sure I have food.” He glanced at Prince Stefan. “Taking a chance of being caught impersonating one of the Dieuroi’s guards seemed a small thing after everything they’ve done for me.”

Gregor nodded. “You’ll take me to this Sarna.”

“Yes, m’lord.”

Gregor bowed to Prince Stefan. “By your leave, highness.”

“Go,” Stefan said. “Keep my brother and your lady safe.”

Gregor waved the retired guild man ahead of him. “What’s your name?”

“Gordon, m’lord.”

They left the prince’s suite and, after both stopped to retrieve their weapons, moved down the hall out of the prince’s wing of the palace. “Gordon, if we make it in time to keep Pell from harming Prince Reis and the Lady Nadia, I’ll personally see to it that no charges are pressed against you for impersonating a royal guard.”

“Appreciate it, m’lord.”

They left the palace and jumped into Gregor’s carriage as it was brought around. “The Emerald Mermaid, Mr. Martinos. As fast as possible.”

The carriage lurched forward, throwing them back into their seats. They each braced against the walls of the conveyance as it raced out the palace gates and began the decent down the mountain into Volos.

Five minutes later, they pulled up to the Emerald Mermaid. Gregor jumped out followed by Gordon, and pushed past the doorman. The older man turned and led the way through the dining room, into the kitchens. Heads turned to follow them as they walked into a large storage closet. Gordon reached for an empty top shelf and pulled it down. A loud click sounded, and the whole section of shelves on the back wall pushed back. Gregor met the other man’s sharp gaze.

“I recognize the way you look at the Lady Nadia. Don’t make me regret trusting you,” Gordon muttered gruffly.

Gregor nodded, and followed the other man into a man-made tunnel lit to either side by lanterns hanging on hooks. After only a short time, the tunnel opened up into a giant cavern. Gregor stopped. He stood in Vromia Guild’s main headquarters. Lanterns hung from ropes anchored to the high ceiling by an intricate pulley system. The cave was divided into sections where guild members sat in various groups engaged in various activities. The buzz of conversation ended as Gordon led him through the gathered men and women toward another tunnel.

The doll-like woman who’d been with Jon when he arrested Nadia stepped out of the tunnel, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth and deep lines between her brows. “Why have you brought him here?”

Gregor stepped forward. “Sarna, I take it?” When she only nodded, he continued. “Since Nadia trusts you enough to put you in charge in her place”—he watched acknowledgment of his understanding of who exactly Nadia was cross her face—“then you must know a great deal about her and how different she really is.” The woman nodded once. Gregor glanced at the curious attention they’d garnered from the other guild members. “Can we go someplace private to talk?”

“This way.” She turned on her heel and disappeared into the smaller tunnel.

Gregor glanced at Gordon, who waved him on. “My part in this adventure is done. Go. Talk to her. If you need my assistance, I’ll be out here keeping anyone from interrupting you.”

Gregor nodded, and followed Sarna toward a round, wood plank door. He stepped through the door into a small cave crammed with full bookshelves. Immediately, some force surrounded him and pulled him across the cramped cave toward a chaise behind which hung a tapestry depicting two mermaids and a merman frolicking in the sea.

“She’s here,” he said, reaching to pull the tapestry aside. “I feel her.”

Behind the tapestry, another wooden door stood ajar, leaking the sound of running water through the opening.

“Wait,” Sarna called.

But the force pulling him wouldn’t relent, and Gregor pushed the door open to step through into a cave pulsing with power from a glowing, stone gate. Gregor recognized the words and symbols carved into it from the Arenatou scroll, though the creatures decorating it were different.

“Jon,” Sarna whispered behind him, breaking his focus on Thuno’s gate.

Looking away, he noticed water seeping under one set of firmly closed golden doors and flowing in a wide stream across the cave through a second set of gold doors that stood open, a dark skinned man unconscious on the threshold. “Stop,” Gregor said, hearing voices on the other side of the door as Sarna went to check on the fallen man who was beginning to stir.

Sarna nodded grimly, pulling a short sword from the scabbard at her hip. “We should probably go for backup.”

Gregor shook his head, and reached for Jon’s foot, pulling him behind the door so Sarna could kneel down and splash water on the big man’s face. “I’m not leaving her in there another minute. And she obviously doesn’t want word of this cave getting out.”

Sarna leaned down to whisper in Jon’s ear as the man’s eyes fluttered open. He sat up, shaking off Sarna’s helping hand and frowned at Gregor.

“I’m here to help her. When you’ve regained your senses, grab a sword and come help,” Gregor said in a low voice.

“Pell is de traitor,” Jon mumbled groggily.

Gregor nodded, and looked over at Sarna. “We’re likely outnumbered.”

Sarna smiled grimly. “How are your fighting skills, fancy lord?”

Gregor pulled his sword from its scabbard with a grim smile of his own, and followed the growing river toward the open gold doors. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

****

Nadia woke to someone’s fist connecting with her stomach. Her breath rushed out of her as stars burst behind her eyelids, adding to the pain of her throbbing skull. She reached for her a’mi, the symbol for water wavering in her mind’s eye. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to focus through the pain. Finally, her strongest element answered her call, rushing toward her from a familiar underground lake.

“Wake up, Capitán. It seems you must be conscious for the doors to acknowledge your presence.”

The cold tone of Pell’s voice brought back the last hours spent in the mad king’s dungeon. Opening her eyes, she found her hands pressed against the gate palace’s golden doors. Her hold on the symbol wavered as the gold warmed under her palms. She tried yanking them back, but her pain racked body was no match for the two Questioners holding her. The lock clicked. Pell smiled, and pushed the doors open. She tried calling the fire symbol forward, but couldn’t focus through her throbbing skull. Clenching her jaw, she focused on keeping the water symbol steady, praying it would be enough.

“Pell? Is Nadia wid you?” Jon’s voice grew louder as he moved closer.

One of the Questioners yanked her head back by the hair, and pressed a dagger into her throat, while the stockier one pulled a short sword and moved to the other side of the door. Water began to seep into the room from beneath the other set of golden doors behind her. Nadia could feel it reaching for her. Inhaling deeply, she directed it to flow silently toward the feet of the Questioner waiting to kill Jon.

Pell turned to face Jon, stepping so that the other man wouldn’t see Nadia. “I couldn’t very well have opened the doors without her,” he said, voice heavy with sarcasm.

Jon’s shadow, cast by a nearby lightbox, moved into her line of sight. She focused on the water, using her a’mi to slide it between the Questioner’s soft bottomed shoe and the cave’s stone floor. Pulling back his sword, the Questioner tensed to jab it through Jon. Nadia shoved her a’mi toward the water, thickening the layer under his feet so that he lost his balance. The Questioner’s feet slipped from under him and he landed on his back, pushing the door open so that Jon could see Nadia standing with the dagger at her throat. The dark skinned man froze in surprise beside Pell, giving the traitor a chance to knock him upside the temple with the hilt of the dagger he’d had hidden in the long sleeve of his robe. Jon’s eyes rolled up into his head, and the big man collapsed.

The fallen Questioner scrambled to his feet, his robe heavy with water, a scowl on the bony face no longer covered by the hood. The Questioner behind her snorted, his dagger inadvertently cutting deeper into her throat. Nadia ignored the blood she could feel dripping down her neck and called the water again, urging more of it to absorb into the wet fabric of the soaked Questioner’s robe.

Pell sneered, but eyed the water. He glanced at her then at the Questioner holding her. “If she goes still or closes her eyes, knock her out, Consul.”

The hand in her hair tightened. “Yes, Director.”

Pell stepped over him into the palace’s entrance hall. “Let’s go find our dear prince, shall we?”

“The attempts on Reis’ life began before we figured out he was my nephew. You accepted the job behind my back.”

Pell tilted his head back and laughed, his eyes finding hers, their manic glow chilling. “The mad king is such an easy scapegoat. I joined his Questioners almost as soon as we arrived. It wasn’t hard to work my way up. After all, I grew up learning the most effective torture techniques. Once I became a Director, it was simple to issue orders in the Dieuroi’s name. When I heard the rumors about what happened with Prince Reis, I looked into his background and suspected he was our long lost prince. So I decided to take care of it.” His face darkened. “I didn’t factor in Prince Stefan’s devotion to his brother. But no matter, it ends today. Our Prince shall finally die as he should have twelve years ago.”

“You won’t get away with this,” she swore.

The Questioner holding her yanked her head back and slammed the handle of his dagger against her ear. “Shut up, bitch.”

The sharp pain made her head ring, but somehow she retained a tenuous grip on her a’mi as tears streamed down her face. She squeezed her eyes closed, and the Questioner shook her by her hair.

“Keep them open or I’ll do it again.”

Pell smiled, and turned to continue into the palace. Her eyes popped open, her fingernails stabbing into her palms hard enough to draw blood, even as she steadied the wavering symbol in her mind’s eye. Dragged toward the closed doors of the gate palace’s great hall, she couldn’t stop a small yelp from sliding out of her throat. She bent her knees to ease the pressure against her throat. Her a’mi swirled inside her as she pulled it from deep inside, gathering it until the water symbol glowed.

Pell strode to the doors and yanked on the gold handles. When they didn’t open, he stepped back and gestured toward the Questioner she’d felled with the water. “Open them.”

Nadia channeled the pulsing a’mi into the water weighing down the man’s robe. The liquid surged up the robe, as if alive with its own conscience, to flow up over the man’s face and into his mouth and nose, filling his lungs. Immediately, he began to cough and choke. To suffocate.

The Questioner holding her gasped, the press of the knife easing more as he watched his comrade drown. Nadia clenched her jaw, and focused all of her will on holding the water symbol in her mind’s eye, wrapped her fingers around the wrist holding the knife, and threw her head back, connecting with the man’s nose. While her mind became one never-ending throb of pain, her body moved on instinct, twisting the man’s wrist until it gave an audible pop, so that he released her hair with a scream of pain. She spun out of the stunned Questioner’s arms, pulling water into a wide river around her feet.

She met Pell’s narrow gaze, and smiled.

****

Gregor eased his head around the door’s edge and caught his breath. Nadia, hair sticking out around her head and blood dripping down her neck, stood surrounded by a wide river of fast moving water while her eyes glowed with power. Pell and a bloody-faced man in the black robes of a royal Questioner faced her, their backs to Gregor. Another Questioner was sprawled out on the ground, his face stretched into an open-mouthed death mask.

Gregor stepped into the palace’s entrance hall, Sarna right behind him, and muttered, “She’s magnificent.”

Sarna’s eyes widened. “Terrifying, more like.”

Beautifully terrifying, Gregor thought as he eased forward slowly, not wanting to alert Pell and his bleeding companion of their presence. He knew the instant Nadia became aware of their presence, though she didn’t betray them by word or gesture.

Her shoulders straightened and she focused on Pell. “You really thought you stood a chance against an A’mi?”

“But don’t I? Even now, you’re injuries make calling your a’mi difficult. Isn’t this why you’ve only managed to call water? It must be your strongest element. You can’t focus enough to pull the other symbols forward can you?”

“How is it that a Sa’i knows so much?” she spit.

“It’s amazing what you can learn from those A’mi with enough Sa’i blood to make them too weak to fight us. Poor Jasara would’ve done anything to free her daughter. Too bad her conscience wouldn’t allow her to actually turn the prince over to us. I still grow hard to the memories of her daughter’s screams.”

At that moment, a robed figure pushed between Gregor and Sarna. “Stick your fingers in your ears now,” a low female voice commanded, making both humans shudder as her power rolled over them, their hands releasing their swords and their arms jerking up to obey without either of their consent.

Their swords clattered to the ground and the two men in Questioner’s robes whirled around to face the robed woman. Nadia narrowed her gaze on the woman, nodded, then pulled her hands up to cover her ears.

“And you’ll pay a hundredfold for each of her screams,” the woman called. Then she let out a screech so high pitched that it made Gregor, Nadia, and Sarna flinch.

Both Questioners cried out and jerked their hands up to cover their ears, but it was too little too late. Blood dripped from busted eardrums. The Questioner next to Pell swayed on his feet, his face screwed up into a mask of intense pain.

Pell sneered and lowered his arms to wipe his bloody palms on his robes. “Well that took care of that problem,” he said in a raised voice.

Then without missing a beat, he shoved the unsteady Questioner onto Nadia’s river of water and jumped onto the flailing man’s chest. The robed woman called for him to stop, but he only hesitated a moment before shaking off her command, the damage to his ears too great for much of her power to get through. He jumped toward Nadia, and the two hit the ground in a tangled heap, Nadia’s head bouncing off the hard ground. The river flowing around her stopped and spread out over the stone floor as she lost control of her a’mi. The second Questioner rolled to his side, heaving water from his nose and mouth.

“No!” Gregor fought the power holding him. “Let me go.”

The woman glanced over her shoulder, and he felt the power release him. He scooped his sword from the ground and rushed toward them.

Pell sat up, straddling Nadia, his dagger at her throat. “Stop.” Pell glanced up at Gregor. “Doomed, I may be, but I’ll take as many of you with me as I can before I die.”

Suddenly, the water surrounding them surged upward, swirling around Nadia and Pell, tearing them apart. It rose into a whirling funnel, Pell and the Questioner trapped in its center, while Nadia’s body flew toward Gregor, who landed on his back with her on top of him. Jon and Sarna pulled her off him as he struggled to catch his breath.

“I can’t hold him much longer,” Reis called, pulling Gregor’s attention back to the funnel of water and Prince Reis, who stood before the open great hall doors, his gaze focused on the funnel, his hand outstretched.

Nadia scrambled to her feet and made her unsteady way over to the pale faced Prince. “Gregor, when I release him, make sure he can’t harm anyone else.” Gregor stood and met her glossy-eyed gaze, then nodded. Inhaling, she placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “I’ve got him.”

Geeta appeared behind the prince and pressed her hand to Nadia’s head. “And I have you.”

Reis sagged. Gregor moved around behind the water funnel. The water stopped swirling and plunged to the ground, dropping the Questioner’s lifeless body and a nearly drowned Pell onto the hard surface. Gregor reached down and the hauled the coughing man up by the soaked robe hanging off one shoulder, his short sword pressed into the other man’s back below a pentagon shaped tattoo which had the letters VK inside it.

“Try anything and I won’t hesitate to run you through,” he promised the still gasping man. He met Jasna’s expressionless green eyes. “If what he said is true, I can understand why you’ve done as you have. However, kidnapping the heir to one country and lying to the monarch of another is not something that I can allow to go unpunished if I find you here when I return.

Jasna nodded. “Thank you.”

Nadia, attention focused on Pell’s exposed tattoo, crossed to stand over the traitor. “Where did you get that tattoo?”

Pell glared up at her. “You already know the answer to that, Infanta.”

Nadia clenched her jaw, and looked away.

Gregor pulled Pell to stand, pushing the sword’s blade harder into his back, causing Pell to flinch. “I’ve got to deliver this scum to the Dieuroi’s dungeon.” Gregor met Nadia’s tired gaze. “You’re free to go as well, but I hope you’ll be here when I’m finished.” He looked around at the underground palace then back to her dark gaze. “You and I have much to discuss, starting with those dreams.”

She gave him a wan smile. “I’ll be here. Jon can show you a quicker way to the palace.”