And double-crossing a goblin shaman who threatened someone I loved was what I did best.

Chapter 17

That someone who could help was Archmagus Justinius Valerian.

I had a whole list of reasons not to want to be seen by the most powerful mage in the seven kingdoms. I was under the impression-as was everyone else on Mid-that the old man was flat on his back and weak as a kitten. When I’d first arrived on the island, Justinius Valerian had looked at me and seen everything I had been, was now, and might possibly become. That last item on the list had just put the twitch back in my left eyelid. If the old man took a close look at me right now, he’d get himself an eyeful, and I’d probably be escorted to the closest containment room.

Right now there was a lot more inside of me besides me. The power generated by what had happened between me, Mychael, and Tam was still surging through my veins; the Saghred was seething below the surface. I was already linked to the Saghred, now I was magically attached to two of the most powerful dark and light mages, period. I was a demon-destroying, death-defying magical cataclysm waiting to happen.

We were still in the citadel. The Saghred was also in the citadel. I didn’t want to be on the same island with that rock, let alone in the same building, but Justinius’s apartments were in the citadel, so I didn’t exactly have a choice. The archmagus’s sickbed was probably one of the last places Piaras wanted to visit seeing that he’d been framed for trying to kill the old man. From the expression on Piaras’s face, the only help he expected from Justinius Valerian was help turning into a slug.

Mychael, Piaras, and I stopped at a pair of massive doors flanked by four heavily armed and armored Guardians. Really big guys with no expressions whatsoever. Though I was sure if anyone tried to get past them without permission, those Guardians would be plenty expressive. And lethal.

If the Guardians didn’t get you, the wards flowing across those doors would probably eat you alive and spit what was left across the room. I had no intention of putting it to the test. I’d be a lady and wait for Mychael to open those doors. Civilized behavior sometimes was a struggle for me, but I wasn’t stupid-or in this case, suicidal.

Piaras ran a hand through his hair, trying to put his tousled dark curls in some semblance of order. He was determined to see this thing through, and as much as I hated the necessity of him being here, I was proud of him. I felt a little smile coming on.

Mychael nodded to the Guardians posted on either side of the massive door.

I couldn’t understand the two Guardians’ chanting, but I could feel what it was doing. The wards peeled back and the doors opened. I expected Justinius’s apartment to be on the other side. Instead there was a long, wide corridor with a pair of Guardians every dozen feet or so. And more wards.

“Damn,” I breathed.

“I’m not taking any chances,” Mychael told me.

He could say that again. Nothing or no one could get through all that. Except you and the rock, the pessimist in my head just had to say. I told my pessimist to shut up.

Once we actually got inside Justinius’s apartments, there were two Guardians, and an older woman wearing healer’s robes. She respectfully inclined her head to Mychael. She was large boned and muscled like a Myloran sea-raider. Their men weren’t the only ones who took to the seas for fun and profit. If anyone made it past all of the guards and wards, I think Justinius’s healer could take them out all by her lonesome.

On the other side of the room was a large canopied bed with the curtains pulled back.

Archmagus Justinius Valerian was the supreme head of the Conclave of Sorcerers, commander in chief of the Brotherhood of Conclave Guardians, and the craftiest spellslinger in the seven kingdoms. And he didn’t get there by being anything other than shrewd, manipulative, and brilliant, and that was just the start of his qualifications. I’d heard he was a foul-tempered, nasty old man. I’d heard right. But I liked the old guy anyway. Come to think of it, those things were probably the reason why I liked him.

Considering that he’d had a black-magic-induced heart attack only five days ago, Archmagus Justinius Valerian didn’t look half bad. In fact, he looked pretty much the same as the last time I’d seen him. What once might have been lean had turned grizzled. What might have been a luxurious head of hair was now a fringe of downy, white tufts on a liver-spotted head. Only a pair of gleaming blue eyes gave a clue to the man himself. He was awake and those bright eyes were homed in on Piaras and me.

I smelled a setup and a half. Archmagus Shrewd and Manipulative was doing quite well, and when Mychael had said that he wasn’t taking any chances, it appeared he wasn’t taking any chances that anyone would find out the old man wasn’t wheezing his last breath. A lot was going on here that I didn’t know about. There was a reason for it, and I wanted to know what it was.

Then I was the sole object of Justinius’s attention. I knew what he was going to do. With the strength I had now, I could have stopped him, but I didn’t. Yes, one word from him could have me locked up or executed within two minutes, but since the moment I’d met him, my gut told me that I could trust Justinius Valerian. My gut had never been wrong, at least not yet. I didn’t think now was going to be the first time. The old man was going to find out anyway, might as well be now.

Justinius Valerian’s eyes never left mine, but they changed focus, and I felt the barest hint of the power that’d earned him his title. He was seeing me inside and out. Again. It was the type of seeing that’d earn any other magic user the business end of my fist. But until I could get rid of the rock and my umi’atsu bond with Tam and Mychael, I was what I was. There was no changing it or escaping it.

The archmagus’s bright blue eyes were hard as agates as he looked from me to Mychael and back again.

“You’ve protected her,” Justinius said.

“Yes, sir. I did.” Mychael’s voice, like his resolve, was unwavering.

I tried to pull a little air into my lungs past the sudden lump in my throat. To anyone listening, the archmagus was merely pointing out that the paladin was doing his job-not that he’d linked himself to the Saghred’s bond servant to keep her from being consumed by an umi’atsu bond.

The old man nodded once. “And you did what you had to do.”

“I did, sir.”

Justinius paused. “You’re protecting the other one, too.”

I knew who he meant. Tam. I also knew the reason Justinius didn’t say his name out loud wasn’t due to any prejudice that Tam was a goblin, or distaste that he was a dark mage. Even though the other people in the room listening were probably trusted ears, the old man was smart; he didn’t get and keep his job by taking chances.

“I thought it necessary.” Mychael paused. “And worthwhile,” he added with quiet conviction.

Damned smoky fireplaces, making my eyes water.

Justinius kept his eyes on Mychael. The only sound was the pop and crackle of the burning wood.

“You’re going to need help, son,” Justinius said in Mychael’s mind. “And soon.”

Since Mychael heard it, I heard it. And Justinius knew it. He’d meant it for both of us-for all of us.

“I know, sir,” Mychael responded.

Mychael had gone leagues beyond his job and the old man and I both knew it. No one else needed to. And Justinius Valerian wasn’t going to tell them. I had to resist the overpowering urge to hug the old man’s neck. I settled for taking my first decent breath in five minutes and giving Justinius the slightest nod of gratitude. If the old man had blinked, he’d have missed it. He didn’t miss it.