"I had hopes, but did not wish to presume," the Ra'Ak bowed insincerely to Prylvis.
"Of course you may take his seat. And then we will have what we want. Shall I contact Black Mist? Some of his would be welcome as we destroy Green Fae. I hear they are quite tasty to your kind."
"Allies from Black Mist will be more than welcome. I hear that some of my brothers may be among Black Mist's arsenal of assassins."
"I hear that too, High Priest. Go. Make the arrangements. We will attack the Green Fae on Vionn very soon."
* * *
"What is this?" Yeah, I was depressed. Grant had handed a comp-vid to me, and I didn't want to read it.
"The agenda for the Five-Year Conclave. It's coming up, you know," Grant said. "We have to go over the items and you have to decide how you'll vote—you can't just show up without information or preparation. Besides, one of the items on the agenda is the approval of religions on Alliance worlds. The current law allows each world to give permission for a religion to establish itself on their planet. This proposal would give the Founder and the Grand Alliance Council the final decision."
"That can't hurt, can it? Surely, they'd be fair. And it might prevent some of those worlds from taking bribes to allow Solar Red or The Red Hand to walk right in and set up temples." I lifted the comp-vid and thumbed through agenda items.
* * *
The Pelipu of Vionn watched the one who paced before his high seat. He called it a chair but it was a throne—he just didn't want to alert the King of Ialus to the fact that he had designs on the throne the king held. He'd hoped that Farus would now be under his thumb, the Green Birth eliminated and their fertile lands his to do with as he pleased. He could launch an army against other civilized lands from Farus; they had a sizable fleet of ships—enough to carry Red Hand troops from one country to the next. Now, he and his mercenaries had been shut out of Farus, whose King was busy setting up trade with the countries farther south, specializing in fish and fish oil for lamps. Why hadn't he thought of those? He shook his head in anger.
"You say you can't ever set foot on Farus, if your intentions are impure?" The man before him stopped pacing.
"That's right. We've tried and the ones we sent are now dead."
"And there's an impenetrable curtain surrounding the Green Birth lands, too?"
"Yes."
"Well, I may have someone who can get around that for us, but he will exact a price."
The Pelipu snorted. "Money I have," he said.
"This one doesn't take payment in money."
"Then what does he want?" The Pelipu couldn't fathom anyone not expecting money as payment.
"Sacrifices," the other replied. "Lives, given to him to play with."
"Hmmph," the Pelipu replied. "I have plenty of that, and it costs me nothing."
"Do you wish for me to call him in?" The other one smiled.
"If it will get me what I desire, then of course I want you to call him in."
"Very well. I will bring him to you in a few days. Prepare for his coming. Have prisoners brought in."
"May I watch?" The Pelipu smiled with anticipation.
"If you wish."
* * *
"What is you will, Viregruz my brother?" Ringolar, eldest of Viregruz's six chosen Ra'Ak stood before Black Mist's founder.
"Ringolar, I believe the days the Khos'Mirai predicted have arrived. We are on the front steps of taking the Alliance. Soon it will be ours, to do with as we please." Viregruz sat upon the jeweled chair a clan of Wizards had designed for him. He hadn't been able to convince Grey House to work for him, but he'd found another clan nearly as good. The Belancour Wizards had done fine work for him.
"It is too bad the Khos'Mirai is gone from us—we received much good advice from him, did we not?" Ringolar gazed at Viregruz.
"He and his clones," Viregruz agreed. "I believe he tired of his life; that is why he allowed himself to be taken. I can only imagine that one of the Mighty may have destroyed him. It is now our lot to carry on his work and reap the promised rewards."
"What is your desire, then, brother?"
"Solar Red has approached and asked for help taking Vionn. Tetsurna Prylvis says a shield has been placed around the Green Fae lands and the key to his target lies behind that shield. This shield only holds back humanoids. Your kind may breach it easily. I wish for one of our brothers to assist the Tetsurna and his forces. If we combine his strength with that of Solar Red and The Red Hand, at least in appearance, how easy will it be to attain our long-term goals?"
"Very easy, my brother," Ringolar grinned. "And the shield? As good as gone," he waved a hand in dismissal. "It will take much to keep even one of our brothers out."
"Good. I believe Prylvis will not object if you take Vionn as your feeding grounds afterward."
"As I had hoped, brother," Ringolar grinned.
* * *
"Child, I had no idea that this would trouble you so much, since your memories were gone. I might have asked Lissa to hold off telling you."
"Like you asked her to hold off telling me that I had children?" Roff was angry with his vampire sire—for the first time.
"Child, our intentions were good; you were a new turn and fragile. The circumstances surrounding your turning were less than ideal and quite traumatic. I held that information back. Lissa had nothing to do with this; in fact, she was quite upset that we decided to withhold the information for a while."
"Because she cared for me. Giff, too. And Toff."
Flavio didn't want to tell Roff that all three of those mentioned had wept grievously because he didn't remember them. He held back, choosing to nod at Roff's assessment instead.
"So Lissa was going to adopt my child because she cared for him, and his own father didn't recognize him any longer. Is that the truth?"
"Yes, child."
"Father, I am extremely angry over this. I am going to work at my winery for a while. I do not wish to be disturbed." Roff stalked from Flavio's study; Flavio heard the front door slam after a bit and sighed.
* * *
Paulin dawdled, as if he were putting off going to see Ibbitt. Gavin was now glad that Lynx had come with them—he was capable of shielding all three of them, rendering them invisible as they silently tailed Paulin. Paulin had his portfolio of drawings slung over a shoulder as he stopped at a fruit stand, one of many small shops lining the streets amid the poorer sections of Hraede's capital city. The drawings of the palace, the wall surrounding Lissia, as well as other key locations that Paulin had drawn were all incorrect—Aryn, Lynx and Gavin had seen to that. Even if these drawings fell into the wrong hands, they wouldn't be getting anything close to accurate information.
Smells of cooking wafted past them as they followed Paulin when he continued down the cobblestone street, eating his fruit and glancing about. Gavin was becoming impatient, but Lynx placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. Gavin nodded and calmed himself.
A baby's cries disturbed the near-silence as they passed through an alleyway. Children raced past them on the street when they emerged, playing games with one another. Paulin stopped before a doorway half a block away, adjusted the portfolio hanging from his shoulder and knocked on the door. Lynx folded Gavin and Tony inside the home, shielding them from sight.
The tiny reception area was barely big enough to contain all of them, but Lynx found a way. "Do you have what I asked for?" A short, ancient man with a bald head and wrinkles covering every bit of exposed skin asked Paulin.
"I do, Master Ibbett," Paulin slipped the portfolio from his shoulder and handed it to Ibbitt.
"Ah, let us see, then," Ibbitt led the way into the rear portion of the home, where the kitchen lay. He set the portfolio down on the tiny table and unbuckled the clasp.
"I knew I could trust your skills," Ibbitt crowed softly, holding up drawing after drawing. "I recognize this from the vid feeds." He held up a picture of the Council chamber. It was the only one Lynx hadn't altered. Everyone who lived on an Alliance world had seen that Council chamber. More than likely, others had as well. Things tended to get passed along on the black market, and that included information and images.
"Here," Ibbitt shuffled toward a small cabinet against a wall and pulled out a drawer. A pouch of coins was tossed to Paulin. "I appreciate your talent and the fact that you didn't get caught. They're locking people up everywhere, you know, over their paranoia," the old man said.
Paulin nodded and Ibbitt led him toward the door. Lynx, Gavin and Tony stayed behind with Ibbitt. They knew where Paulin lived and had arranged for him to be picked up when he got home. Their focus was now on Ibbitt and what he planned to do with the drawings.
* * *
Wylend stared across the table at his son, who was focused on his breakfast. Erland had also come. "Brenten," Wylend said, causing Griffin to look up from cutting a slice of ham.
"Yes?" Griffin placed the ham in his mouth and chewed.
"What do you think Lissa will do when she finds out?"
"Be furious," Griffin stared at his plate.
"With whom?"
"Me, mostly."
"Child, you are wrong."
"Why do you say that?"
"She will be hurt and angry with all at this table. You know that, don't you?"
Griffin didn't answer for several seconds. "Yes," he nodded uncomfortably.
"And how angry do you think she will be, child, when she discovers that you were the one who removed Roff's memories?" Griffin looked up in shock at his Karathian Warlock father.
* * *
"Do you see this?" Arvil San Gerxon and his chief of security stood behind the one-way glass in his office, staring down at the casino floor below. "And this is better than most of the others," he snorted in anger. Few clients were gambling downstairs, and most of them worked on the wrong end of the law. That meant Arvil had to make sure they won regularly. His profits had gone down dramatically, all because of Le-Ath Veronis.
"Of course you may take his seat. And then we will have what we want. Shall I contact Black Mist? Some of his would be welcome as we destroy Green Fae. I hear they are quite tasty to your kind."
"Allies from Black Mist will be more than welcome. I hear that some of my brothers may be among Black Mist's arsenal of assassins."
"I hear that too, High Priest. Go. Make the arrangements. We will attack the Green Fae on Vionn very soon."
* * *
"What is this?" Yeah, I was depressed. Grant had handed a comp-vid to me, and I didn't want to read it.
"The agenda for the Five-Year Conclave. It's coming up, you know," Grant said. "We have to go over the items and you have to decide how you'll vote—you can't just show up without information or preparation. Besides, one of the items on the agenda is the approval of religions on Alliance worlds. The current law allows each world to give permission for a religion to establish itself on their planet. This proposal would give the Founder and the Grand Alliance Council the final decision."
"That can't hurt, can it? Surely, they'd be fair. And it might prevent some of those worlds from taking bribes to allow Solar Red or The Red Hand to walk right in and set up temples." I lifted the comp-vid and thumbed through agenda items.
* * *
The Pelipu of Vionn watched the one who paced before his high seat. He called it a chair but it was a throne—he just didn't want to alert the King of Ialus to the fact that he had designs on the throne the king held. He'd hoped that Farus would now be under his thumb, the Green Birth eliminated and their fertile lands his to do with as he pleased. He could launch an army against other civilized lands from Farus; they had a sizable fleet of ships—enough to carry Red Hand troops from one country to the next. Now, he and his mercenaries had been shut out of Farus, whose King was busy setting up trade with the countries farther south, specializing in fish and fish oil for lamps. Why hadn't he thought of those? He shook his head in anger.
"You say you can't ever set foot on Farus, if your intentions are impure?" The man before him stopped pacing.
"That's right. We've tried and the ones we sent are now dead."
"And there's an impenetrable curtain surrounding the Green Birth lands, too?"
"Yes."
"Well, I may have someone who can get around that for us, but he will exact a price."
The Pelipu snorted. "Money I have," he said.
"This one doesn't take payment in money."
"Then what does he want?" The Pelipu couldn't fathom anyone not expecting money as payment.
"Sacrifices," the other replied. "Lives, given to him to play with."
"Hmmph," the Pelipu replied. "I have plenty of that, and it costs me nothing."
"Do you wish for me to call him in?" The other one smiled.
"If it will get me what I desire, then of course I want you to call him in."
"Very well. I will bring him to you in a few days. Prepare for his coming. Have prisoners brought in."
"May I watch?" The Pelipu smiled with anticipation.
"If you wish."
* * *
"What is you will, Viregruz my brother?" Ringolar, eldest of Viregruz's six chosen Ra'Ak stood before Black Mist's founder.
"Ringolar, I believe the days the Khos'Mirai predicted have arrived. We are on the front steps of taking the Alliance. Soon it will be ours, to do with as we please." Viregruz sat upon the jeweled chair a clan of Wizards had designed for him. He hadn't been able to convince Grey House to work for him, but he'd found another clan nearly as good. The Belancour Wizards had done fine work for him.
"It is too bad the Khos'Mirai is gone from us—we received much good advice from him, did we not?" Ringolar gazed at Viregruz.
"He and his clones," Viregruz agreed. "I believe he tired of his life; that is why he allowed himself to be taken. I can only imagine that one of the Mighty may have destroyed him. It is now our lot to carry on his work and reap the promised rewards."
"What is your desire, then, brother?"
"Solar Red has approached and asked for help taking Vionn. Tetsurna Prylvis says a shield has been placed around the Green Fae lands and the key to his target lies behind that shield. This shield only holds back humanoids. Your kind may breach it easily. I wish for one of our brothers to assist the Tetsurna and his forces. If we combine his strength with that of Solar Red and The Red Hand, at least in appearance, how easy will it be to attain our long-term goals?"
"Very easy, my brother," Ringolar grinned. "And the shield? As good as gone," he waved a hand in dismissal. "It will take much to keep even one of our brothers out."
"Good. I believe Prylvis will not object if you take Vionn as your feeding grounds afterward."
"As I had hoped, brother," Ringolar grinned.
* * *
"Child, I had no idea that this would trouble you so much, since your memories were gone. I might have asked Lissa to hold off telling you."
"Like you asked her to hold off telling me that I had children?" Roff was angry with his vampire sire—for the first time.
"Child, our intentions were good; you were a new turn and fragile. The circumstances surrounding your turning were less than ideal and quite traumatic. I held that information back. Lissa had nothing to do with this; in fact, she was quite upset that we decided to withhold the information for a while."
"Because she cared for me. Giff, too. And Toff."
Flavio didn't want to tell Roff that all three of those mentioned had wept grievously because he didn't remember them. He held back, choosing to nod at Roff's assessment instead.
"So Lissa was going to adopt my child because she cared for him, and his own father didn't recognize him any longer. Is that the truth?"
"Yes, child."
"Father, I am extremely angry over this. I am going to work at my winery for a while. I do not wish to be disturbed." Roff stalked from Flavio's study; Flavio heard the front door slam after a bit and sighed.
* * *
Paulin dawdled, as if he were putting off going to see Ibbitt. Gavin was now glad that Lynx had come with them—he was capable of shielding all three of them, rendering them invisible as they silently tailed Paulin. Paulin had his portfolio of drawings slung over a shoulder as he stopped at a fruit stand, one of many small shops lining the streets amid the poorer sections of Hraede's capital city. The drawings of the palace, the wall surrounding Lissia, as well as other key locations that Paulin had drawn were all incorrect—Aryn, Lynx and Gavin had seen to that. Even if these drawings fell into the wrong hands, they wouldn't be getting anything close to accurate information.
Smells of cooking wafted past them as they followed Paulin when he continued down the cobblestone street, eating his fruit and glancing about. Gavin was becoming impatient, but Lynx placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. Gavin nodded and calmed himself.
A baby's cries disturbed the near-silence as they passed through an alleyway. Children raced past them on the street when they emerged, playing games with one another. Paulin stopped before a doorway half a block away, adjusted the portfolio hanging from his shoulder and knocked on the door. Lynx folded Gavin and Tony inside the home, shielding them from sight.
The tiny reception area was barely big enough to contain all of them, but Lynx found a way. "Do you have what I asked for?" A short, ancient man with a bald head and wrinkles covering every bit of exposed skin asked Paulin.
"I do, Master Ibbett," Paulin slipped the portfolio from his shoulder and handed it to Ibbitt.
"Ah, let us see, then," Ibbitt led the way into the rear portion of the home, where the kitchen lay. He set the portfolio down on the tiny table and unbuckled the clasp.
"I knew I could trust your skills," Ibbitt crowed softly, holding up drawing after drawing. "I recognize this from the vid feeds." He held up a picture of the Council chamber. It was the only one Lynx hadn't altered. Everyone who lived on an Alliance world had seen that Council chamber. More than likely, others had as well. Things tended to get passed along on the black market, and that included information and images.
"Here," Ibbitt shuffled toward a small cabinet against a wall and pulled out a drawer. A pouch of coins was tossed to Paulin. "I appreciate your talent and the fact that you didn't get caught. They're locking people up everywhere, you know, over their paranoia," the old man said.
Paulin nodded and Ibbitt led him toward the door. Lynx, Gavin and Tony stayed behind with Ibbitt. They knew where Paulin lived and had arranged for him to be picked up when he got home. Their focus was now on Ibbitt and what he planned to do with the drawings.
* * *
Wylend stared across the table at his son, who was focused on his breakfast. Erland had also come. "Brenten," Wylend said, causing Griffin to look up from cutting a slice of ham.
"Yes?" Griffin placed the ham in his mouth and chewed.
"What do you think Lissa will do when she finds out?"
"Be furious," Griffin stared at his plate.
"With whom?"
"Me, mostly."
"Child, you are wrong."
"Why do you say that?"
"She will be hurt and angry with all at this table. You know that, don't you?"
Griffin didn't answer for several seconds. "Yes," he nodded uncomfortably.
"And how angry do you think she will be, child, when she discovers that you were the one who removed Roff's memories?" Griffin looked up in shock at his Karathian Warlock father.
* * *
"Do you see this?" Arvil San Gerxon and his chief of security stood behind the one-way glass in his office, staring down at the casino floor below. "And this is better than most of the others," he snorted in anger. Few clients were gambling downstairs, and most of them worked on the wrong end of the law. That meant Arvil had to make sure they won regularly. His profits had gone down dramatically, all because of Le-Ath Veronis.
