I was trying to find Suiden or Javes when something flickered off to the side, and I turned to see Slevoic ride into a side street on the other side of the square. I urged my horse to follow and, hearing more horses behind me, I spared a brief look over my shoulder and saw Jeff and Esclaur. Pacing with them was Basel’s stag haunt. I faced forward and cantered down the side street and, seeing a flash go around a corner, I swung my horse wide and stopped at the street’s mouth to peer in, making sure there wasn’t an ambush. There was. Slevoic and about twenty renegade troopers were waiting. All facing me.
Slevoic smiled as he held Prudence Oak’s body in one hand, his blue eyes gleaming in the street shadows. “Oh so easily led Border puke.” He made a show of looking us over. “No Groskin?” His smile widened. “I’d be careful who I’d let get behind me. No telling who else doesn’t like freaks.” His men laughed at his wit.
I was getting really tired of facing smirks. “Captain Suiden is behind me, Vicious. Should be here any minute.” (My hand didn’t burn, so it must’ve been true.) I watched the smile falter on his face at the thought of coming face to face with the dragon prince. I looked at the renegades. “You should’ve seen him this morning. I thought he was going to have an accident.”
“Shut up, freak!” Slevoic was not amused.
“Me a freak? Tell me, do your playmates know what you’re wearing, Vicious? What your banner staff is made of?”
“I said shut up!”
Suppressing the urge to say “Make me,” I sighed. “Commander Loel is dead and Teram is captured. The rebellion is put down, Slevoic. It’s over.”
“Perhaps it is, Lord Sweet Cheeks Puke, or perhaps the best is yet to come, but right now it’s just you and me.” Slevoic said, reaching for his sword.
I once more marveled at Slevoic’s universe that excluded the other twenty plus people with us. But again, I was more than willing, and I hefted my own sword while my horse took a step forward, his hoof loud against the cobbles.
“What the hell is that?” one of Slevoic’s men yelled. I stopped and looked at him but he was staring beyond me, his eyes wide.
I frowned for a moment, then smiled as something pale ghosted up to my side. “Why, this is Trooper Basel.” I looked back at Slevoic. “Remember our cook, Vicious? You know him—you two served together until he was transferred to the mountain patrol.” I leaned forward. “He was murdered today, his throat slit while he was out in the kitchen garden.”
“The mutant cat probably did it,” Slevoic said, also staring at the shade.
“Border folk hold white stags sacred,” I said as Basel moved to where I could more easily see him. “Laurel Faena would no more have killed him than the patriarch would desecrate church altars. No, one of his troop mates murdered him.” Basel lowered his antlers and silently struck the street with a hoof, and I shifted my gaze once more to the soldiers behind Slevoic. “He also sabotages weapons. Are you sure you want to go off with him?”
The turncoats muttered, a couple even starting to ease away, but froze as Slevoic turned to glare at them. He whipped his head back around at me, and I bit off an exclamation at how his eyes were now glowing. “Nobody’s going anywhere unless I say so.”
“Bones and bloody ashes,” Jeff said from behind me. “What’s happening to the Vicious?”
Not only were his eyes glowing, but also his hauberk, shield and banner staff. Slevoic hadn’t translated in the embassy. But neither had I or the royal healer. I knew why I hadn’t and I could guess why the healer hadn’t—both of us were mage-born. That meant that Slevoic—
“Sorcerer,” I said.
Just then I heard horses approaching from the square, moving fast. “Rabbit!” Suiden called, his voice echoing.
“Here, Captain!” I called back.
“No!”
I stared at Slevoic, tasting his sudden terror bitter across the back of my tongue as he stared over my shoulder. My horse danced, pulling against the reins as he too felt the intense fright of the man. Surprised, I moved so that I could see what was coming down the street while keeping an eye on the Vicious, but it was only my captain leading troopers. I shot a quick glance at Basel, but he hadn’t moved and now stood with raised head, looking as puzzled as a ghost stag could.
I looked back at the lieutenant again. Even with the scare Suiden gave him that morning at the embassy, Slevoic’s reaction was extreme, sweat pouring down his colorless face, his hands shaking. Then memory burst upon me of how I was when I started to come into my power. “Oh, hell—”
“No! Keep away!” Slevoic howled, raising Pru Oak’s body just as Suiden drew even with me, and I could see Pru’s eyes—black pits in her screaming face.
Get down! the wind said.
Get down, Rabbit! I heard Laurel bellow.
“Duck!” I shouted as I slammed down along my horse’s neck. My pommel caught me in the stomach, hard, knocking my breath out of me, and it grew dark as I tried to suck in air. I swallowed, this time a metallic taste filling my mouth. A roaring filled the street and I vaguely heard screams and horses galloping off.
Whatever had just happened, I thought, it was not good.
Chapter Forty
I lay wheezing in my saddle as I was led out of the side street back into the square, my eyesight still dim with sudden flashes of light, the metallic taste strong in my mouth. Once we reached the square, Jusson took one look at my face and told me to go inside Flavan House. I did not argue, even when I was made to lie on a couch in a room off an enclosed atrium filled with bright, twittering birds. I closed my eyes, the butterflies settling on my head.
After a while my breathing became easier and when I heard a commotion outside the room, I sat up. The door flung open and the king entered, followed by Captain Thadro, his Own, Lord Esclaur, and Captains Javes and Suiden. Jeffen, who was sitting guard, and Basel, who hovered in the corner in his man form, jumped to attention.
“So you’re saying that you don’t know what happened?” Jusson asked. He had cleaned the blood off his face, the thin cut along his cheekbone already scabbed over.
“No, Your Majesty,” Suiden replied. “I had followed Lieutenant Rabbit and found him and Trooper Jeffen facing off against Slevoic and a small detachment of rebels. The moment I arrived, though, Rabbit yelled ‘Duck.’ ” A wry smile crossed his face. “I’ve learned, Your Majesty, that in battle it’s not wise to ask questions when someone shouts an imperative. I ducked.”
There was muted laughter, and a smile flitted across the king’s face.
“When I came up again,” Suiden said, “parts of the street were scorched and Slevoic and the rest were gone.”
“I see,” Jusson said. He walked over to the couch and looked down at me. “And you, cousin? Are you well? Your color is better.”
“Yes, sire,” I said. “I’m well.” I stood, a little loath to be sitting while the king was standing. Except for some wobbliness in my legs, everything seemed to be working fine.
“Good.” He grabbed Jeff’s chair and sat down, waving me back to my seat on the couch. “Then perhaps you can tell us what happened.”
“Slevoic is starting to come into his power, Your Majesty,” I said.
A bird chirped and then fell silent.
“Define ‘power,’ ” Jusson said.
“He’s mage-born, same as me, sire, and he’s going through what I just did.” I looked at Suiden and Javes. “Only three people didn’t translate in the embassy, sirs. Me, the healer, and Slevoic.” I cast a wary glance at Jusson. “I’m not calling the honored healer a mage, but she probably has some talent.” I indicated the butterflies and braid. “You know what I am. So what does that make Slevoic?”