“And his uncle is with elven intelligence.”

Mychael’s distaste was obvious. “Correct.”

“And Aratus… Isn’t that General Daman Aratus’s son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Shit,” the old man spat.

“My thoughts exactly.”

I looked from one of them to the other. “What?”

Mychael answered me. “Taltek Balmorlan receives much of his funding from General Aratus.”

“One hand washes the other,” Justinius said. “And rumor has it that General Aratus can’t take a crap without permission from his new boss.”

That wasn’t exactly enlightening. “And this is bad how?”

Mychael sighed. “Raine, General Aratus reports to Markus Sevelien.”

Chapter 18

My mouth fell open and stayed there.

Normally news like that would have me blistering the air blue, or looking for something to throw or hit. Right now I was too shocked to do any of it.

And I felt too betrayed.

Duke Markus Sevelien was the elven intelligence agency’s chief officer in Mermeia. I’d done some work for him over the years that mostly consisted of finding abducted elves-diplomats, intelligence agents, aristocrats who’d gotten involved in something over their highborn heads. It was gratifying work and I was good at it. Markus had recruited me, and I’d only worked with him. And he’d made no excuses about why he wanted to me to work for him. Markus thought my being related to criminals helped me know the criminal mind. I wasn’t proud of it, but he was right. If it could be picked up, pried off, or in any way pilfered, my family would make off with it.

I liked Markus; he’d always been up-front and honest with me. And if I’d been standing face-to-face with him right now, he’d probably still be honest-his loyalties were to elven intelligence, not to me. He’d put any friendship we had to the side as an impediment to him doing his job. And I knew from past experience that Markus would do his job at any and all costs. Whatever was going on wasn’t personal; it was business.

It was the Saghred.

And since the Saghred had attached itself to me, that made me his business. I could almost understand that; the Saghred was a weapon that elven intelligence wasn’t about to let fall into goblin hands. That meant he couldn’t allow me to fall into goblin hands. Hell, I didn’t want to be in anyone’s hands.

But that didn’t explain the chain of command that led from Markus to Taltek Balmorlan to what had happened to Piaras. Markus had always made it his business to know what all of his people were up to. I was sure that included me. If General Aratus was one of his people, and Balmorlan his lackey, Markus had to know about Piaras.

And Markus had to know what Piaras meant to me.

Some last part of me refused to believe that Markus had ordered Piaras kidnapped for agency use. Piaras was just a boy. Okay, a young man. But Markus wouldn’t order one of his own people taken against their will.

Or would he?

I felt the rage building and did nothing to stop it.

“Girl, we don’t know that Sevelien ordered anything.”

Justinius had been following my every thought. I knew Mychael had. Good. It’d save me explaining why I was about to put my fist through the nearest wall.

“We don’t know he didn’t,” I said through clenched teeth.

“He’s the one you know, isn’t he?” Piaras asked quietly. “The one you’ve worked for.”

I swore silently. I’d never told Piaras about Markus because I didn’t want him involved in any way with the agency. The kid was entirely too good at listening when he wasn’t supposed to. Apparently my efforts at secrecy didn’t work. I took a deep breath, half hoping that it’d calm me down. That didn’t work, either. No sense denying it now. “Yes, he is.”

“I’m sorry,” Piaras said.

I waited a moment for that statement to make sense. It didn’t. “What for? None of this is your-”

“That’s not what I meant, Raine. I’m sorry that someone you trusted betrayed you.” His expression reflected controlled anger. A man’s anger. “No one should treat you like that. You don’t deserve any of this.”

Piaras wasn’t worried about his own safety or why Markus might want him. Right now all of his concern was for me. My vision blurred again. The old man’s fireplace was too damned smoky.

“Thank you.” It was all I could manage to say. I waited a few seconds until I was sure I had myself under control. “Mychael, let’s operate under the assumption that the general and Balmorlan took their craps because Markus told them to.” My voice was hard, my words clipped. “I want to know the instant Markus Sevelien sets foot on this island. I don’t think he’ll come, but if he does, I want to know about it. Immediately. I’ll be telling the same thing to Phaelan and Uncle Ryn. If Markus does show up, I will know about it, and we will have a talk.”

“Raine, I don’t think that’s a-”

“Good idea?” I snapped. “No, it’s not. Markus having anything to do with what happened to Piaras wasn’t a good idea, either.” My voice dropped to a hissing whisper. “And if he was involved, I will make him realize just how bad his choice was.”

“Son, you don’t need five hundred Guardians,” Justinius told Mychael. “Just point this one in the right direction and set her off.”

I couldn’t get my hands on Sarad Nukpana, but Markus Sevelien was flesh and blood. My reaction was violent and primitive, but I was a violent and primitive kind of woman and Mychael knew it. His eyes stayed locked with mine for the span of a few heartbeats. I had to force my breathing back to normal.

“Sir,” Mychael said, slowly taking his eyes from mine, “do you have enough strength to ward Piaras’s mind against Sarad

Nukpana? I’ll be assigning four Guardians to help him resist any impulse that may get through, but Piaras needs to know when he’s being tampered with.”

The old man snorted. “Of course I have the strength. Which four Guardians?”

“Herrick, Arman, Drud, and Jarvis.”

Justinius whistled and shook his head. “You’re not taking any chances, are you, son?”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

Piaras paled. “Who are they?”

“They’re the men who will prevent you from doing anything Sarad Nukpana tells you to do.” The old man’s eyes gleamed. “They’ve done this before-and they’re good at it.”

“Good at it, sir?”

“Exceptional.”

“What about spellsongs?”

“What about them?”

Piaras winced apologetically. “I’m kind of fast-”

The old man chuckled. “You’re not that fast, boy.”

Piaras gulped audibly. “This sounds painful.”

“Not if you stop when they tell you to.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “He can’t use any magic? Just how the hell is he supposed to defend himself?”

“Those four Guardians will defend him,” Justinius told me.

“And should they require any assistance-and that is highly unlikely-they’ll know the difference between Master Rivalin’s magic and Nukpana’s. They’ll stop the goblin, not Master Rivalin. They’re four of Mychael’s best.”

Mychael spoke. “I have the same hopes for Cadet Rivalin.”

The archmagus smiled in genuine pleasure. “Cadet? So you want to be a Guardian?”

“More than anything, sir.”

“Ronan told me as much.” He looked to Mychael. “That means an induction ceremony.” He grinned slowly. “Considering present circumstances, it would need to be public, wouldn’t it?” His grin broadened. “And it would need to be soon.” It was obvious that the old man was hatching something.

“And it would be best if you did the induction yourself,” Mychael said. “My men need to see that-and so do the Seat of Twelve.”

“To let everyone know that I didn’t try to kill you?” Piaras said.

“That, too. I’d hardly induct my own assassin, now would I? This way I kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

“You’ll be using Piaras to show you’re back in power,” I said quietly.