Chapter Twenty-Three
In the Palace of Xy
King Xyrath just stood there, smiling, radiating regal power with his hands on his hips, head held high.
Riven blinked and managed a very short but low bow, since he was already on his knees, sandstone in hand. “Your Majesty,” he said. “Forgive me,” he added as he scrambled to his feet. “I was preparing the floor. It needs to be—”
Xyrath held up his hand as he stepped into the room and the guards closed the door behind him. “No details,” he said, smiling that golden smile. “Fine chambers, I see. All to the good. Lots of shelves.”
Riven didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded.
Xyrath walked further in, striding, looking everything over, including Riven. “You look like a strong breeze would knock you over, lad. Understood you were ill. Are you doing well?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Riven said.
“Good, good,” Xyrath nodded, his blue eyes piercing. “I want what is best for the heir to the throne, you understand?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
“Marriage is a give and take, young friend,” Xyrath said, resuming his prowl. “Satia wants this and I want other things. So she gets what she wants and I get what I want.” He gave Riven a knowing look. “Makes for a solid relationship, built on mutual trust and respect.”
“Majesty,” Riven decided not to ask any questions, having no idea where this was leading.
“Sometimes, she makes decisions that I don’t quite agree with,” Xyrath looked almost pensive. “But that is part of the trade off, you understand. Tit for tat, so to speak.”
Riven dared to raise a questioning eyebrow.
Xyrath cleared his throat. “You know that our Chained Mage, died unexpectedly, yes? Terrible thing. His heart, so I understand.”
“A terrible thing,” Riven repeated, his own feelings rather mixed.
“Just so, just so,” Xyrath nodded, sighing deeply. “Terrible.” He went to stand by the window. “Do you perchance know how to cast a portal?”
Riven blinked. “No majesty,” he said. “I might be able to learn, but—”
“No, no, just asking.” Xyrath was clearly disappointed.
“Your new Chained Mage will no doubt know that spell.” Riven offered.
“Might take a bit longer than anticipated to get one.” Xyrath snorted. “Never mind, never mind. The obstacle is the way, yes? A challenge to be overcome.”
The door opened, and Witless entered, with the tray and the doll. “Dinner, Master,” he called with a smile.
He stopped dead when he saw the King, flinching so hard everything on the tray rattled.
“Put that down before you drop it,” Xyrath snapped. “And get out.”
Witless rushed to obey, backing toward the door, clutching the doll close and bowing over and over until he was safely through. Riven took the moment to get to his feet.
“Disgusting,” Xyrath said. “Don’t know why Satia didn’t have him exposed at birth.
Kindest thing to do.” He shook his head, then turned back to smile at Riven.
“At any rate, I really just stopped by to tell you that you will be housing Ritathan’s library.
The Royal Librarian is reluctant to keep books of magic on his shelves.
Seems to think if he mishandles them, they might blow up, or try to escape. And you’ve room here.”
“Books are not really of much use to me,” Riven said carefully.
“They are to me,” Xyrath said sharply, and those blue eyes grew cold even though the smile stayed on his lips. “Regardless, for now you focus on the Queen’s little project. Afterwards, you will aid me in my project.” He lowered his voice. “Atira blades.”
Riven recognized the obsession in those cold eyes. Of course the king had to crave a blade as mythical as an ehat. “Of course, Majesty. But I don’t have much experience with research,” he cautioned. “My school is more hands on. Practical, you might say.”
“Well, the less said about that, the better. Every trade has its secrets,” Xyrath clapped Riven on the shoulder and kept his hand there. “Not interested in details. Interested in results.”
Riven gripped the sandstone tight in his fist, fighting the urge to step back.
“This ‘bonding’ thing,” Xyrath grew serious and made a vague sweeping gesture with his free hand. “It worked out well for my beloved Queen, and that is all well and good. I don’t want to know any details, you understand.”
Riven nodded, recognizing self-preservation when he saw it.
Xyrath squeezed his shoulder, hard. His blue eyes, so close to Riven, were harder. “You
understand that if anything should happen, and my queen be displeased, I will see you die. Battle magics, casters, useful stuff in combat, but I was taught early on how to take out enemy mages. Quickly. Effectively.”
Riven tried not to show fear, but he must not have succeeded, because Xyrath broke into a wide smile.
“Good, good, glad we understand one another.” He released Riven and started toward the door.
“They should start bringing up the books shortly. I expect to hear good things about your progress, young man.”
Riven opened his mouth, but the King was gone and the door closed before he could even think of what to say.
He hadn’t even finished his meal before Avice arrived. “Through here,” she said over her shoulder. She was leading a number of servants, each carrying sacks and crates of books.
“Mind my floor,” Riven snapped, leaping up to protect his chalkings.
Avice raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Yes, mind the floor. Line this stuff up against that wall.” She gestured toward the window. “They can be shelved later,” she said.
“That was not the impression the King gave me,” Riven said glumly as he watched the pile grow.
“King Xyrath was here?” Avice asked as men kept filing in.
“Yes,” Riven said. “To warn me that the books were coming, and threaten me if the spell fails.” He watched Avice closely. “He said the Chained Mage’s heart gave out.”
It was fast, not more than a quick quirk of the lips, but it was there. “Yes,” Avice said. “His heart.” She gave him a side look. “Do mages’ bodies always…melt…after death?”
Riven gave her a startled look. “Not that I know of, but Chained Mages,” he shrugged and spread out his hands to show his ignorance.
The last of the guards dropped his sack with a thud.
“Don’t wait for me,” Avice said to them. “Go and clear the rest of the shelves. One more trip should do it.”
“There’s more?” Riven asked.
“Yes,” Avice said with a patient air of suffering.
She closed the door behind the last man, then turned back to Riven.
“The Queen says there is no danger of discovery now. There will be no Chained Mage wandering the halls, and no further visits from the Mage Guild’s Guildmaster.
At least, not for the foreseeable future.
” Avice looked self-satisfied as she tugged at one of her sleeves.
“The Queen asks what further supplies you might need, toward casting the spell.” Her eyes glittered.
Ah. There was more to this, but now was not the time to ask. Riven cleared his throat. “I have been giving that a great deal of thought,” he said. “We don’t want to attract too much attention to our activities.”
Avice waited.
“Is there a butchery in the Palace?” Riven asked.
Avice frowned at him. “Off the kitchens. But what has that to do with—”
“Admittedly, it’s slower than more traditional methods.” Riven said. “But it doesn’t affect the taste of the meat and no one ever questions it.” He paused. “We’ve time to use the slower methods to build power. Of course, that is just for preparation. It will not serve for the actual casting.”
She nodded in understanding, but the look she gave him was a long one. “You have done this before?” she asked.
“Yes,” Riven gave her a half-smile. “I am one for caution, lady.”
Avice nodded, clearly thinking it through. “I will speak to the Queen.” She snorted softly. “Nora will be disappointed.”
“Lady?” Riven asked, but there came the sound of servants outside, no doubt bearing a fresh load of books and scrolls. He didn’t press her further.
He didn’t really want to.
Riven spent the rest of the evening putting books and scrolls on shelves.
It seemed that the laborers had just swept materials off shelves as they were, so there was some semblance of order as he unpacked them.
The books weren’t magical; he’d checked them first thing with mage sense.
Mostly history, actually, especially on the Mage Wars.
There were quite a few volumes on ancient myths and legends about a mage who had been able to heal using magic. Riven scoffed at that. He knew full well how to pull power from a body. But put that power into a living body and heal in the process? That seemed pretty far-fetched.
Oddly, or perhaps not, there were no books on spell-casting. But then, why would there be? Mages had been hunted and killed in the years before they were chained and the Guild established. It made sense that their books had been destroyed.
Riven was sitting with the last sack of scrolls, all of which seemed to be on the art of blacksmithing, when the door opened. Nora walked in, carrying a tray.
She too was dressed in the black, and on her it was stunning. It emphasized her dark eyes and the curve of her hips.
It was her eyes that drew him. They sparkled, almost feverishly.
She seemed to be full of energy and excitement, almost vibrating with life.
Her smile was curved and sassy as she took in the room and his labors.
But then she gave him a mock frown and put the tray down hard.
“The butchery? Just animals? I am disappointed.”
“Safer than humans,” he said with a shrug.
“Whatever,” Nora snorted. “I brought kavage, since you are working late.” She walked over to the shelves, reaching out to stroke the spines of the books. “Ritathan’s?” she eyed the shelves with a smug look, as if she already knew the answer.
Riven nodded. “King Xyrath ordered them stored here. The librarians think they are dangerous.”
“Are they?” There was that sparkle again. A mischievous anticipation of chaos.
“No more than any other book,” Riven said.
“Pity,” Nora said. She walked around behind where he knelt, letting her fingers play over the books.
“King Xyrath also threatened me,” Riven said. “Said he’d kill me if the spell failed.”
“Not a surprise,” Nora murmured behind him.
“Tell me,” Riven said slowly. “Can I trust any promise that the Queen makes?” He glanced back, catching Nora’s eyes.
Nora shrugged. “She rescued you and you are not dead yet.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Please her and she is a willing ally. Cross her and she is a deadly foe.”
Riven sighed and shoved the last scroll onto the shelf.
“Of course,” Nora’s voice was low and sultry. “As you please her, you can be pleased in turn.” Her fingers touched the back of his neck, tickling his hair.
Riven sucked in a breath, his entire body reacting to her touch.
“Would you like that?” Nora whispered.
He felt her kneel behind him, her arms coming around to embrace him. One circled his chest, the other started to wander lower, down where the harsh ache in his loins was building.
He felt her heat, and her scent teased his nostrils.
Riven forced himself to his feet, managing one step away. He didn’t dare look at her, he could barely find his voice to ask.
“Are you…commanded?”