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CHAPTER TWENTY

The king looks up and smiles as I march over to the group, a reluctant Coryn dragging his heels in my wake.

“Talon,” he greets expansively. His bonhomie and the pink flush to his cheeks make me think he’s been partaking of the wine. “And Coryn! Join us. Haftel tells me— Ooof!”

Haftel’s elbow to his side cuts him off. Nobody told me the court mages were allowed to assault monarchs. Maybe I need to reconsider my stance on living at court. Good food, comfortable rooms, staff to look after my every whim….

“I’d hoped you’d been run through by now,” Coryn’s father drawls, looking at his son as if he’s gutter waste stuck to his shoe. Any desire I have to live at court flees with the reminder that people like him populate the courts.

Coryn flushes but says nothing, looking at the floor.

Fuck that.

“What a terrible thing to say.”

Awkward silence descends, but that was my goal, so I forge on.

“I don’t know who you are, but the whole reason I came here was to recruit Coryn, so it’s lucky for me that he hasn’t been run through.” I smile. “Not that anybody would find it easy to do so. Tales of his prowess have traveled far. That’s why Master Kahwyn insisted Coryn was the perfect person to join us.” The last bit stretches the truth—okay, so it’s a lie—but given the secrecy of our mission, Jaimin’s name is the best weapon I’ve got against this snob.

Beside me, Coryn straightens. Good.

“Master Kahwyn?” the older woman repeats. “Jaimin Kahwyn, the plague slayer?”

That’s such a stupid way to refer to him. Aside from the fact that he’s so much more than just the healer who cured a plague, how fucking ridiculous does “plague slayer” sound? He didn’t kill it with a sword.

I open my mouth to share some of those thoughts, but Haftel jumps in, shooting me a warning look. I think if she’d been standing beside me, I might have gotten an elbow to the ribs.

“The same,” she announces. “But we haven’t made introductions yet. Mage Talon Silverbright, meet her grace, High Priestess Hierane of the goddess Malna, Duke Kelter, and Priestess Whynne, also of Malna.”

Well, shit.

I bow to the high priestess. Kelter can go fuck himself, but the last thing I need right now is to get on the wrong side of the temples. “Your grace.”

She looks at me like she’s weighing me up for dinner—and not in the good way. “Mage Silverbright. How fortuitous to meet you this evening. I was so hoping you’d be here.”

Not. Good. She shouldn’t even know who I am. The fact that she does means she’s one of the priests that knows about the stone and what I’m doing here.

“Oh? That’s not something people usually say to me.” I try to brush it off with a joke. “Usually they’re hoping I’ll be somewhere else.” I smile at her and then turn to the king. “Your Majesty, further to our earlier discussion, I’d like to request that Guardsman Kelter be assigned to me for the foreseeable future.”

The king doesn’t look too surprised, so I’m guessing Haftel filled him in. “Of?—”

“What’s this?” Duke Kelter breaks in sharply. I ignore him—the king can deal with him.

However, it’s Haftel who says serenely, “The King’s Own Guard is none of your concern, Duke.” There’s a smug little curve to her lips that broadcasts how much she enjoyed saying that.

The duke opens his mouth to retort, but the high priestess is already speaking.

“Perhaps we could step into a private room?” she asks me. “I’m sure the king has somewhere suitable.”

Coryn stirs slightly, and I’m grateful he’s there. I don’t know what his feelings are when it comes to religion, but I’m reasonably sure I can rely on him to defend me and the stone.

“I’m afraid not,” I reply, managing to sound regretful even as I reach out to Tia. “Might have to leave early. High priestess of Malna is here.” I muster another smile for Hierane. “I have so much to do before we depart.”

Her return smile is full of teeth and not a little frightening. “Surely not so much that you cannot spare a moment for spiritual guidance?”

“Has she said anything? Do you need me and Jaimin to come there?” Tia sounds ready to spring into action.

“The gods themselves have blessed my journey,” I intone, hoping none of them choose this moment to strike me down. Everyone knows they had a hand in the prophecies, anyway, so as long as I’m doing what the prophecy wants, I’m carrying out the will of the gods… right? “She’s trying to talk to me alone. Let’s not cause a scene yet—I’ll let you know if I need rescuing.”

Hierane’s eyes gleam. “What an astonishing thought. And yet, none of the temples have reported you consulting them.”

“The gods work in mysterious ways.” I want to shoot Haftel a “rescue me” look, but I’m scared to take my gaze off the high priestess.

“It’s the lot of man to never fully understand the gods,” the king says piously. “Guardsman Kelter, you’re assigned to Mage Silverbright until his task is complete. Talon, we won’t keep you from your duties.”

“Yes, sir,” Coryn says, saluting.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I add. “I’ll take my leave of you all now.”

“Hold on,” Duke Kelter interrupts imperiously. “What exactly is this task? I don’t know if I like the idea of my family name being associated with something so shady.”

My magic twitches with the urge to flip him upside down and shake him. He’s worried about his family name? What about his son ?

Lucky for me, the king stares him down. “I would never assign one of my guardsmen to anything shady .”

Kelter’s eyes narrow, but he grudgingly nods. “Of course not, Your Majesty. I apologize.” Clearly he doesn’t want to lose favor with the king.

I wait for him to say something to Coryn, but he doesn’t. What a turd. Taking a careful step backward, I snag Coryn’s arm and tug him with me. Maybe we can sneak away while they’re distrac?—

“Mage Silverbright.” Hierane’s voice could slice through steel. “I was hoping to afford you some privacy, but since you refuse…”

Oh, no.

“I demand you relinquish to the protection of the temples the holy object in your possession. I order this in the name of our holy mother Malna and her divine siblings.”

Holy steaming gods’ turds.

“I don’t understand, your grace,” I bluff, reaching out to Tia. “Get here now.” “What holy object?” I send an urgent telepathic knock Haftel’s way, and another to my master.

“The king and I will intercede if necessary,” Haftel says, not even needing me to ask for help. “But our influence won’t hold once you leave.”

“That’s tomorrow’s problem. Just support me now.”

Hierane’s eyes are narrowed, and Coryn shifts away from me. At first I think he’s distancing himself, but when I glance over, I notice the way his hand rests on the pommel of his sword.

Aww. That’s sweet, but… he can’t seriously be thinking about striking a high priestess?

“Don’t play games with me,” Hierane murmurs.

“I wouldn’t dare,” I say truthfully. I know perfectly well that I’m fighting for my life right now.

“Talon?” Master’s voice is sharp. Finally.

“Having an altercation with the high priestess of Malna. You might need to run interference after I shake her off.”

His vicious curse echoes through my brain. “Couldn’t you have avoided this?”

“She confronted me in the middle of a party at the king’s palace!”

“Hand over the stone,” Hierane demands, no longer trying to be subtle. Fuck. Tia tugs at my mind, and when I reach out, she sends the impression of being behind me but holding back. Good. Hopefully I can still defuse this.

“The stone isn’t a holy object,” I demur, giving the stone a mental nudge. It declines to respond, which I guess means it’s confident I can handle things. Great.

Hierane draws herself up, affronted. “Of course it is,” she hisses. “It’s the source of creation. And your refusal to comply with the temples places you on very shaky ground, Mage.” Somehow she makes my rank sound like a curse.

Duke Kelter draws a sharp breath. “The life stone?” he asks. Dammit, this is getting out of hand.

“That’s confidential,” the king orders, taking at least one worry off my shoulders.

“Your grace.” I make a last attempt at conciliation. I’m a little concerned about the younger priestess, to be honest. She hasn’t moved, spoken, or reacted in any way, just watched everything with solemn eyes. Something’s not right there. “While I understand the temples’ desire to look after so valuable a treasure, I can assure you that I don’t deny you lightly. The gods have entrusted me with this most sacred task.” I’m not going to tell her the stone is sentient. It’s my fallback argument. “Once it is complete, I will most gladly surrender the stone into the keeping and care of the holy orders.” If that’s what the stone wants.

She regards me coldly. “That is unacceptable to me. You will give it into my safekeeping immediately.”

The tension ramps up unbearably, but when I glance around, the other partygoers seem oblivious, enjoying themselves just as they were before. Idiots.

“I refuse.” The words are heavy. I do not want the temples as enemies.

“Then you leave me no choice but to?—”

“Before these witnesses, I demand a convocation hearing,” I interrupt. I might not think much of the priesthood, but I know the laws and customs of every temple. “It is my right as a son of the gods to plead my case before the convocation of high priests.”

“Witnessed,” the king and Haftel say in unison. From the way Hierane glares at them, they’ll pay for it later.

“Witnessed,” Duke Kelter adds reluctantly, two beats behind. He clearly doesn’t want to, but the law is firm on this.

Hierane knows it. The thwarted fury on her face speaks volumes, but she can’t act against me now, not with three witnesses—high-ranking ones, at that—to my demand for a convocation. If she did, it would be a blow to the trust people have in the temples. Or at least, it would when I finished telling everyone I know.

“Very well,” she concedes. “I will call a convocation.”

“Wonderful. I’m going to get some rest.” I take a step back, then another. I’m not even lying. We’ll be leaving even earlier than planned, if we want to avoid that convocation. And we have to—I’m certain the other high priests and priestesses will agree with Hierane.

“Good night,” the king says firmly, forestalling any further attempt to delay me, and I turn and beeline for the door, Coryn keeping pace at my side. Tia and Jaimin fall in with us halfway across the room, but it’s not until we’re in the hallway and putting serious distance between us and the ballroom that I start to relax.

“Well?” Tia asks.

“We’re screwed.”