 
Her Reputation

(The Empire: Book 1)

By Laura R Cole

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Laura R Cole

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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CHAPTER 1

Rhys darted through the streets, swerving in and out of the throng of people effortlessly. He deftly side-stepped an oncoming wagon and twirled around to avoid getting trampled by a horse going the other way. Ducking underneath a canopy, he raced down an alley and emerged into another crowded marketplace.

There was hardly a clear area in the square. Vendors took up all the free space along the side of the road, and the road itself was lively with activity. Though the sun had barely appeared in the sky, it seemed the whole city was already awake.

Someone threw something out a second story window, creating a flurry of angry shouting and shaking fists below. The person hollered something rude in response and slammed the shutter doors. The grumbling shoppers below hurried along their way.

The smell of freshly baked bread assaulted Rhys's senses, and his mouth watered. He looked around for the source, his stomach grumbling of its own accord. He'd skipped breakfast that morning in his rush to leave, and he was beginning to regret it. He spotted a woman carrying many loaves of bread at the end of the street, but she was walking the opposite direction. He sighed. A cart went whizzing past him, and he jumped back from the splash of the puddle that it kicked up at him.

He shook his head ruefully and stepped onto the cobblestone pathway. Almost immediately, he ran smack into someone. The merchant sputtered and swore as the basket of apples he'd been carrying tumbled to the ground, rolling away under the feet of the bustling citizens. Rhys quickly collected them back up, snatching them from underfoot before they were trampled. He sheepishly returned them to the merchant, who gave him an annoyed grunt before rushing off. Everyone was in a hurry.

Rhys watched the merchant dashing away and smiled to himself. He took an apple out of his pocket and threw it up in the air before catching it with a flourish and taking a large bite. He sauntered off, chewing loudly, the newly acquired coin-purse jingling with satisfying heft from his belt. No doubt the man had swindled his customers for it anyway; that particular merchant wasn't known for his honesty.

Rhys finished his apple and tossed the core into a gutter, ignoring the undignified squawk of a woman who clicked her tongue at him before prancing away. The rats would take care of the remains. Having almost arrived at his destination, he slowed. More careful now, he made his way into yet another alleyway. He glanced around him before knocking on an almost-concealed doorway. It cracked open. Rhys scanned the alleyway once more before pulling it open just enough for his slim frame to slip through.

Hands clamped around his arms roughly.

"Jak'll be wantin' to talk to you, Rhys."

"A lot of people want to talk to me, Jessup," he answered casually. "What does Jak want with me?" He was dragged into the cramped room and forced to sit at a table. He didn't bother trying to resist. The windows were covered with rags, letting in just enough light to see the sad state of the room. Flies buzzed around days-old remains of past meals on the table, and dirt and grime caked every surface. Several forms could be seen slumped against the walls; they were either so far strung out on Sparkle Dust – or whatever the newest rage of drug was – that they were currently comatose, or dead. Rhys couldn't tell. He decided he didn't really want to know.

"He says you owe 'im money."

"I also owe a lot of people money," Rhys pointed out, averting his eyes from the nearest limp form.

"Aye, but Jak wantsta collect. Says he knows you can get it. What with your _connections_ an' all."

Rhys sighed.

"He's got a big project comin' up he needs the capital for." Jessup said the word cap-i-tal in syllables, as though he wasn't quite sure what it was he was saying. "Gotta gets to it before-"

"Jessup!" a harsh voice barked from farther within the darkened room, cutting him off. "That's none of his damn business."

"Yes, Jak, sir," Jessup mumbled his apology and slunk back against the wall, kicking one of the bodies in the process. It hardly stirred, but emitted a faint groan, indicating it was still breathing.

Jak turned his attention to Rhys. "Well, well, well," he drawled. "How nice of you to grace us with your presence once again."

Rhys reached to his belt and unsheathed his knife. Jessup moved forward menacingly, with surprising agility for his bulk, but Rhys held up his hands. Then he pointed down to his belt, demonstrating what he was doing by running a finger through the air. Jessup relaxed. He returned to his previous position, resting against the filthy wall.

Rhys held out several coin-purses away from his belt and sliced the knife through the cords holding them there. They plunked down on the table heavily, and Jak eyed them a moment. He sucked in one side of his cheek, contorting his mouth unattractively, and strolled forward. He emptied each of the pouches onto the table before them. He ran his fingers around the table, pushing the coins here and there. Dark filth was caked underneath cracked and yellowing fingernails.

"What is this?" he finally asked, waving a hand dismissively over the table.

"The money I owe you," Rhys answered, speaking to him as though he were a small child.

Jak gave a small nod and in moments Jessup had disconnected himself from the wall and rammed a ham fist into Rhys's cheekbone. The blow hit with a resounding smack, and Rhys took a moment to blink his eyes then open and close his jaw, determining whether or not it was broken.

When he spoke again, Rhys dropped the mocking tone. "It's all there; fifty silvers. That's what I owed you. We're even." He tried to stand, but Jessup's meaty hand clamped itself onto his shoulder.

Jak laughed softly. "Fifty silvers was what you owed me a month ago, Rhys. With penalties and interest..." he trailed off, a malicious smiled playing on his lips, "I'd say you're up to, oh," he ticked amounts off on his fingers, adding up the supposed fees, "five hundred gold?" He glanced over at Jessup. "Wouldn't you say that sounds about right?"

Jessup nodded dumbly, a huge three-toothed grin slapped on his face.

"That's ridiculous!" Rhys exclaimed, jerking out of Jessup's grip, whose grin had disappeared at Rhys's comment. He was looking like he might hit him again. "Surely that must be a miscalculation," Rhys quickly amended. "How did I get from fifty silvers to five hundred gold?"

"That's what happens when you make me wait," Jak replied dangerously, "and I'll have Jessup here give you a preview of what will happen if you make me wait much longer. I suggest you use those connections of yours, and get me the money you owe me."

"I already have!" Rhys protested again, but any further comments were cut short as Jessup's fist collided roughly with his stomach, knocking the wind from him.

Half an hour later with many bruises and possibly a broken rib or two, Rhys limped out of the doorway back into the alley. The congested streets hadn't cleared in the least and perhaps had even gotten worse. Rhys hobbled his way back into the thick of it. He wound around the familiar streets, avoiding the marketplace this time and slowly making his way to the center of the city.

Naoham was the sister city to Endlyfta on the other side of the soon-to-be recombined country. Centuries past, the country had split into two: Gelendan and Treymayne. But now, history was in the making as soon they would reunite once more. Both capitals were still in use, and both served to house the many Council members that ran the country. Queen Layna, along with the head of the Triumvirate – a position currently held by Lady Aria – were the figureheads. They had final say in matters once the Council put issues to a vote. There were opportunities for Rhys to practice his skills at both capitals, but Rhys preferred his hometown of Naoham.

Naoham was densely populated as a commercial center whereas Endlyfta was a more open and flowing city. Naoham was much more to Rhys's liking; more people squashed together meant easier prey. Though technically he earned a small stipend that made him enough money to survive, Rhys had certain less-than-legal activities that lately were beginning to require more substantial means. It was precisely these activities which had gotten him caught up with Jak in the first place.

Rhys grumbled at the thought of the man. He stepped roughly on his hurt ankle and threw his weight to rebalance himself, sending a jolt of pain throughout his abused body. He scowled. Obviously that particular decision should have been more carefully thought out. If he had just been a little more patient, he could have avoided this whole mess.

He spied a small child exchanging money with an undesirable on the street corner and was reminded of the goal he was trying to accomplish. The urchin's eyes met Rhys's briefly as Rhys moved to intercept the trade and the dealer grunted something to the child. Both scattered before Rhys could get his aching body over to them. He sighed and turned away. Rhys may have a slightly different view of right and wrong than most people, but he believed himself to be a good person. _Mostly_.

The money he'd borrowed hadn't even bought him what he'd been hoping for, however. Now, he not only had to find some way to meet Jak's outrageous demands, but he also had to go home having very obviously been beaten. Because of today's significance, there was no way he could disappear until he healed. He saw no way out of it without a lot of lecturing, and there was nothing Rhys hated more than lectures.

He reached the gates and one of the guards nodded to him.

"Morning, Master Riley," the man greeted him, his gaze lingering where Rhys could feel the beginnings of a black eye, but he at least didn't comment.

"Morning," Rhys mumbled shortly.

He didn't feel like answering any questions. He'd have plenty of them once his mother got a look at him. When he reached to open the door to their suites, the knob moved underneath his hand before he touched it. His mother stood in the doorway, staring at him with one of her impassive looks. Her gaze drifted to the faint bruises taking form on his face. She tilted her head slightly sideways, her lips tightening the tiniest of amounts.

"You need to get ready," she said finally, breaking the tense silence that had been thick in the air between them.

Rhys let out the breath he had been holding and squeezed by her into the room before she could change her mind and ask the questions he knew she was holding back. Maids scurried around this way and that, and Rhys spared another glance back at his mother. She was eyeing them as well, and though most would have thought her expression neutrally serene, Rhys knew her well enough to know she was crawling inside. She hated having servants around touching her things. No wonder she didn't feel like giving him another lecture today. Before she could turn her attention to him again, he bolted to his rooms, shutting the door behind him.

"Eventful morning?" inquired his attendant and friend, Jayson. Though Rhys was under no illusions that Jayson wasn't reporting directly to his mother – out of fear of the woman, if nothing else – Jayson was still his confidant in many respects. Not so, however, for the kind of activities he had needed to deal with this morning. He hoped that the end result of his dealings would eventually be looked upon with acceptance, but he knew that Jayson would never approve of means necessary to accomplish that result. He evaded the question.

"You know, another day, another..." he trailed off without finishing, strolling over to his closet where he threw open the doors. "So what am I to wear today?" he asked, knowing better than to think that he would have any say in the matter.

For some reason, his mother seemed to think that by forcing him to dress a certain way, it would then follow that he would act that way. She was usually disappointed.

"The black suit," Jayson said, giving him a lopsided and sympathetic smile. Rhys had long ago begged him to forgo the formalities, so unless there were other people around, they spoke casually. Rhys hated being addressed as "sir".

He groaned. "Not that thing again. What is she trying to do, marry me off to an old lady? Because those are the only women who will be interested in that old relic. I swear it could have come from the Dark King's era."

"You shouldn't joke about things like that, Rhys," Jayson replied seriously.

He was rather paranoid about everything blood-magic and Dark King related. Jayson's grandfather had spent a lot of time telling the impressionable young boy horror stories of those dark times.

Rhys sighed dramatically. "Oh, come now, Jayson. That's all ancient history." He shuffled through the dreadful clothes his mother had specially tailored for him, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"I don't know how you can be so casual about it when you know full well the events that took place recently. The Dark King may be ancient history, but we now know that he wasn't the true evil behind it. It was Nuko, trapped here in essence and trying to reunite his mind and physical form by manipulating people. And it was only a mere eighteen years ago that your mother, Lady Katya, helped defeat him!"

Rhys tried hard not to roll his eyes but didn't fully succeed. He was sure the result must have been funny, but the look Jayson gave him was anything but amused. "I know, I know," Rhys conceded to get him off his back, "but now even Nuko is gone, right? So now, it is all history."

He finally found the black suit Jayson referred to and took it out, throwing it unceremoniously onto the bed. He stripped off the more comfortable dark brown leggings and flowing shirt and squeezed himself into the gaudy masterpiece his mother called his "fine clothes".

By the time he'd gotten all the lacings tied, fastenings secured, and accessories accessorized, his mother and father both appeared at his door. He scowled at his mother for her choice in his clothing, but she remained as unreadable as always, apparently having gotten her earlier disquiet under control. At least she was fidgeting slightly; it was one of the only ways Rhys could tell when she was uncomfortable. She looked gorgeous in her lavish gown, but Rhys got pleasure knowing that she was as uncomfortable as he in the dress-up clothes.

His father, on the other hand, looked handsome and confident as always. He took in Rhys's black eye, by now turned a dark red bordering on purple hue, and sighed.

"What have you done now, son?" Hunter asked, but before Rhys could answer, he held up his hands. "Never mind. I don't want to know right now. We need to get going, or we'll miss it."

"That would be a shame," Rhys mumbled too low for anyone to hear – or at least he thought. His mother gave him a reproachful look. He sighed and waved a hand towards the door. "After you."

*

Wren paused to catch his breath and looked around. He scanned the forest, searching for the swatch of red. Mosquitoes buzzed around his head, taking advantage of his rest to swarm towards him. The tell-tale whine of their wings beating near his ear caused him to reflexively swat at them, and he smacked himself upside his head. He scowled as pain lanced through his temple.

"Darn bugs," he muttered, wiping his hand on his pant leg.

Finally, he spotted what he was looking for in the branches of a nearby tree. He knew he'd been in the right place. He was no woodsman, so he had marked the areas he'd already searched with pieces of bright cloth. This was the one from yesterday. He walked over to it and fingered it for a moment before turning his gaze outwards once more.

To his left was a well-worn game trail, leading deeper into the forest. To the right the trees petered out, giving way to fields beyond. Straight ahead was a steep bank, leading down a gorge to a stream below. The water would be the most likely place to find it, but the trek down to it looked treacherous. He stood there for a long moment in indecision. Grunting, he haltingly moved forward down towards the stream.

He grabbed hold of a small sapling sticking up out of the bank and held onto it as he took a cautious step downwards. His foot slipped a tiny bit, and he gripped the small tree tighter. Very slowly, he lowered himself farther and put his foot down again. It held this time, and Wren let go of his tree and looked for another. There were no others within reach, but a large stump stuck out of the ground a few feet in front and below him. He lurched towards it clumsily and threw his arms around its supporting bulk to stop his descent.

He hesitated, slapping at another bug. He searched the area below from this vantage point. A lovely brook flowed in and around nature's artfully carved rocks. Moss lined the edges of the stream, the bright green accentuated by flowers of various colors here and there. A chipmunk scurried along the edge, halting as it spied him to rear up on its back legs and chirrup at him before darting off. It was beautiful, but a nice landscape was not what he was looking for.

Now that he was here, the slope looked much steeper. He glanced behind him. There didn't seem to be any way he'd get back up that. He let out a short breath and focused on the bank in front of him. There was no helping it; continuing on was the only way to go.

He let go of the tree stump reluctantly and leaned forward, letting gravity take him down the steep embankment. His legs beat furiously underneath him, trying to keep up with his tumbling body, as he half-ran, half-fell down the bank. As he passed another sturdy-looking tree, he reached out for it, grasping for its branches. They slipped past him, causing a sharp pain, and only served to knock him off balance. He twirled around, his feet flailing out from under him, and he fell the rest of the way down the hill.

As he bounced to the ground below, his head sharply collided with a rock, and a burst of pain overtook him. He felt something warm and sticky dribbling down his face. A red haze swam over his vision, and then it went black.

When he woke a short while later, he blinked in confusion a few times, trying to sit up. Vague blurry images danced in his eyes, refusing to still and let him focus. Mosquitoes buzzed in his ears, and he felt itchy in several spots where they must have already enjoyed a meal while he was out.

Finally, his vision cleared, and trees came into view. The soft sound of a bubbling stream met his ears above the bugs, and birds chirped. Memory of where he was returned to him. Sunlight streamed down through the treetops and sparkled on the water.

He squinted at a sudden bright light that reflected into his eyes, and slowly opened them again. He bit back a gasp. There it was! After all this time, he'd actually found it!

A beautiful black unicorn with a silver mane stood at the edge of the stream, its head bent to drink the cool water. Its horn shone brightly in the sunlight, sending tiny rainbows out around it majestically.

Wren lifted his head to get a better look, but the motion set off a dull ache. He groaned softly. The unicorn's head whipped up, and it looked straight at him for a split second before turning on its heel and fleeing. He sat up swiftly, ignoring the pain in his head, and reached out a hand futilely.

"Wait!" he called after the retreating form, but it didn't slow.

He half-heartedly gave chase, but he knew it was pointless. He'd only get himself lost. After a few minutes, he gave up, slumping against a tree, panting. He lifted a hand to the gash on his head and was surprised to find himself intact. There was blood all over him, caking his hair and clothing, but no evidence of the wound it came from. Wren looked down at his hand, which had been torn in his fall, only to find that this had been healed as well.

Wren let his hands fall to his sides and his head gently lean back onto the tree's trunk. He closed his eyes. It had been so close, only to have it slip away. He opened his eyes abruptly in excited astonishment. But he'd found it; it really did exist! He couldn't wait until he told Phoebe.

He glanced up at the sky. As he thought of Phoebe, Wren realized he would need to hurry to get back in time. He pulled himself to his feet and retraced his steps back to the bottom of the cliff. Peering upwards, he realized that there was no way he'd be able to climb back up that. Instead, he wandered downstream, following the edge of the embankment to look for a path leading up. His foot slipped on the mossy wet rocks more than once, and by the time he spotted a section he thought he could get up, he was soaked. The trek to the top was much less harrowing than the descent, and luckily all he had to do was follow the river back to where he'd started. He was soon back to his tied cloth.

He found where he'd left his horse to graze and clumsily mounted. Forcing the horse's head up from where it was munching on grass, he steered it back towards the city. He nudged at its sides, jerking his body forward with each motion, and finally got it going. It broke into a cantor, and Wren struggled to keep his balance as the landscape whizzed by.

Endlyfta came into view just as Wren's backside was beginning to protest the abuse, and he slowed his mount to a more comfortable walk to enter the city. The magnificent walls were whitewashed and gleaming, the architecture predominantly comprised of smooth marble columns and arches, following the design of the massive temple that towered over the city and extended out over the Great River.

People still sent prayers down the river, though not as many as days past. Most days there were one or two offerings, floating shrines of flowers and fruits asking for favor and giving thanks. Since the Kiani Stones that once resided at its source had been moved to Naoham, the Word no longer flowed down the river. Even so, it remained a symbol of faith. Pilgrimages across the country were made to view the statue holding the stones in Naoham, but the legacy of the Word of the gods coming down the river lived on.

Today, rather than one or two, there were thousands of floating offerings, a rainbow of colors snaking gracefully across the water in celebration. He paused a moment to enjoy the sight. Then he steered away from the shore, winding deeper into the city towards the palace.

Wren reined in his mount as he neared the stables. Thankfully, a stable-hand rushed out to greet him, taking control of the unruly horse. Wren allowed himself to be helped off the animal, pausing a moment to regain his balance once back on solid ground. His legs felt a little wobbly as they always did after riding.

Thanking the boy who led the horse away with a small smile, Wren pointed himself in the direction of his rooms. In short order, he'd arrived, and he threw open the door, inhaling deeply. He exhaled as he glanced around his cramped quarters. He didn't care that it was tiny compared to the suites he'd grown up in. These were _his_. He'd finally convinced his parents to let him move out, and the independence was exhilarating. He also hoped that it might impress certain people.

Though technically he was half a country away from his parents and where he'd grown up, a permanent gate within the two palaces connected them. Therefore, his move away wasn't really as far as it seemed even though his mother tried constantly to convince him that it was.

He stepped around a large pile of books lying next to the door, awaiting his eventual organization. Opening the closet, he shuffled around several rolled up parchments and moved a box of papers out of the way to get to his formal attire. He'd last worn them a year ago when he'd graduated from the scores of tutors to finally be allowed to study at the Hall of History, pursuing his own agendas.

He swept these out of the closet, carefully extricating the fabric when they snagged on a number of books stuffed inside, and laid them on the bed. He stripped out of his sweat-and blood-caked clothes, and used his wash basin to clean himself up. He marveled at the wound-that-wasn't in the mirror, wondering how it had healed itself. His mother always made him wear a healing charm – perhaps it had done the trick. He'd never before had the chance to test it out on a wound so severe. Usually it was just one of the many bumps and scrapes that he tended to get. He brushed a finger over where he should still be bleeding profusely. Instead, there was not even a mark and the skin was perfect, no blemish nor even a red line to betray where he'd been cut only this morning.

Shrugging, he pulled the finer clothes over his head and sighed with pleasure as the silky fabric clung to his skin. They felt so much better than his riding clothes. Stifling a yawn, he hurried through gathering the rest of what he would need and gave the room a once-over. Satisfied that he was ready, he grabbed the package off his desk and strolled from the room.

His parents were waiting in the Gateroom, having previously made the jump from the Gelendan palace to meet him here and attend together. His mother beamed when she spotted him. "Look at our little boy, all grown up," Katrina commented as he grew close, pulling him in for a hug.

Wren glanced around to see if anyone else was within hearing range. Luckily, most seemed too preoccupied with other things to notice the embarrassing display.

"Don't embarrass him now," his father gently rebuked her, and she let go.

"Sorry," she whispered with sheepish grin. "I just can't help myself."

She maneuvered them all into the line of people. Usually it was just residents of the palace who used the Gateroom; people who lived in one capital but worked closely with its sister city. Today, however, there were people from all over clamoring to use a newly erected gate to get to the celebration. His parents had come over just in time before the gate to Naoham's palace was temporarily disabled to allow the use of the Gateroom for the public's transportation through the new gate. _Pity they hadn't been a tad too late_ , Wren thought.

"You missed out on some delicious coffeecake that your mother made this morning," his father commented after a few minutes of silently shuffling forward in the seemingly never-ending line.

Wren tried not to groan. Ever since he'd moved out, his parents were constantly making remarks about how he was missing out on things by not living with them anymore. "I wouldn't have had time for it anyway," he replied. "I was out doing research this morning."

"Oh?" his mother asked. "What are you researching now? Did you already finish your paper, 'When the Gods Walked Among Us?'"

"Not yet," he answered distractedly, standing on his tiptoes to try and see how close they were to getting through so he could escape this conversation. "I've gone off on a bit of a tangent."

"About what?" she persisted.

"I don't want to say until I've followed the lead through to the end."

He bit back a sigh of relief as they reached the front of the line and his mother's relentless questioning ceased as they prepared for the nauseating journey to the meeting place.

His stomach did the familiar flip-flop as they were magically transported to the docks upriver. Normally, he would find himself in the Gateroom of Naoham when he traveled, but instead of the well-known stone wall and tapestries that usually greeted him, he blinked in the bright morning sun.

There were people everywhere, scores of them bustling along the shore and countless others trying to access the barge itself. Wren fell into line once more beside his parents to pass through the inspection of the knights to gain entry to the vessel. He walked slowly through their ranks, feeling the strange twinge of magic pass over him as he was surreptitiously tested for any signs of malicious intent.

He smiled and greeted several of the guards by name, and they saluted him smartly. Once aboard, he abandoned his parents quickly, slinking off into the crowd as one of their friends distracted them with a welcome.

He searched the crowd for signs of Phoebe – Princess Phoenix – but she was nowhere to be found. He surmised that her parents would want her to make some kind of grand entrance. He spied his friend, Rhys, glowering in a corner and looking rather worse for wear. He slowly weaved through the throng of people to make his way over to him.

"Morning, Rhys," he nodded to the other boy. "Looks like you've already started your day off right."

Rhys glared at him. "Had a run-in with an old friend earlier."

Wren and the younger boy had been playmates when they were little, having both grown up within the care and protection of the royal household. In recent years, however, their paths had begun to diverge. While Wren had chosen to pursue a career studying history books, Rhys had become involved in...less desirable activities.

Rhys's blackened eye looked to be causing him considerable pain, and he closed it for a moment. "You know those rumors I was telling you about?" he asked without opening them.

"Yes?"

"They're getting worse," Rhys supplied, now opening his eyes to look intensely at Wren. "I keep trying to quell them," Wren shuddered to think of his means, "but someone is awfully persistent. I haven't been able to figure out who is behind it all."

Wren's brow furrowed. That was not pleasant news on such a joyous occasion. Though the current excitedly frenzied state would seemingly belie Rhys's words, they both knew that rumors could be disastrous to a person's reputation. He would have to report this back to his mother later. At least it would give her something other than his absence to think about.

"I'll pass it along," he promised. Then he asked, "Would you like me to find some ice for that eye?"

Rhys was squinting again, as though the simple task of keeping it open was paining him, and he nodded gratefully. Wren excused himself and headed off in search for someone to beg ice from. There was an ice sculpture in the middle of one of the tables, a large dragon reared up, looking ready for flames to burst forth from its mighty jaws, but Wren didn't think that the royal artists would be amused if he broke part of that off for his friend.

He passed several other boys he knew, though none were ones he'd call friends. He called out to them, asking if they'd seen Phoenix yet. All shook their heads negatively, going immediately back to their own conversations. He finally made his way to one of the inner cabins, and he poked his head inside. The servants were all racing about, seeming just as excited as those out in the party itself. He had to step in front of one to get his attention. The man gave him a sour look, but it softened as a glint of recognition passed over his features.

"Sorry to bother you," Wren said politely. "I was hoping to get a bag of ice for my friend's eye."

"You mean Master Rhys," the man said, his tone disapproving. "His poor mother and father are at their wits' end trying to figure out where they went wrong." He gave Wren a penetrating stare. "You turned out alright. Maybe you can talk some sense into the boy."

Wren simply shrugged as the man reached around him into a cooler box to get the ice. "I've tried," he admitted, "but he doesn't listen to me either."

"Hmph," the servant mumbled, handing over the bag of ice. Wren thanked him and moved off, allowing the man to resume whatever task he had interrupted. By the time he found Rhys sulking in the corner, the ice had half melted.

"Thanks," Rhys said as Wren handed the dripping bag to him.

Rhys immediately put it onto his blackened eye. From his wincing grimace as he moved his arm, Wren guessed that Rhys's face wasn't the only place that had been bruised that morning. He shook his head slightly. Rhys had glanced out across the crowd and didn't seem to notice.

When it was clear that Rhys wasn't going to be much company as he leaned against the wall nursing his wounds, Wren meandered through the masses. It appeared that every youth Phoenix's age had been invited to the celebration, though Wren doubted that the Princess knew many of them personally. He puffed out his chest with pride that he was one of the few with whom she kept company. Along with Rhys, the three of them had been constant companions for a time.

Before Rhys had gone his own way, Phoebe – as her friends called her – had gone hers, learning to be a princess. Though in Wren's opinion, she didn't have to try very hard. She was naturally regal, so the training only enhanced her innate being. Everything she did seemed to be just right. His thoughts darkened. It was unfortunately this truth that made the rumors so unsettling.

As Wren came to the outside of the crowd, he saw with surprise that they were already in motion and a fair distance downstream already. He hadn't even noticed that the huge ship had begun to move, which was good given his propensity towards sea-sickness. Just thinking about the rocking back and forth made him feel a bit queasy, and he pushed himself to a railing in case the urge overtook him.

Before he could get himself too worked up and actually make himself sick, he was distracted by a commotion. He turned his attention to the upper decks where the King and Queen were and saw that knights were taking places on either side of the staircase. Phoenix was about to make her grand entrance.

The crowd fell silent as the previously soft background music suddenly burst to life with a triumphant and excited melody. Lights dimmed in the main part of the cabin and those around the staircase brightened. The knights drew their weapons in unison; the sound of metal against scabbards timed perfectly with the music and adding to the excitement. They created an archway of swords over the red-carpeted stairway and at the captain's signal all turned as one towards the top in anticipation. The eager faces of the crowd turned upwards. Wren held his breath, waiting for her to appear.

*

Princess Phoenix took a deep breath and took the first step down towards the mass of people below. Most in the sea of faces were those she didn't recognize, and as she descended into their midst, she searched for one she knew. Her lavish gown trailed behind her, falling gracefully down the stairs with her steps. People gasped below her, and she knew that the hours her maids had spent preparing her for the big day had paid off.

Phoenix wasn't the majestic beauty that her mother was. She was constantly reminded of this as her maid repeatedly told her that her more modest looks simply made her more approachable in a misguided attempt to make her feel better. In truth, Phoenix was glad she wasn't more like her mother in that respect. She got so much attention just for being a princess, she could hardly imagine if she was an amazing beauty on top of that.

Finally, she spotted someone familiar. Her old friend, Wren, stood waiting near the bottom step. She beamed widely at him. Though several larger boys, whom Phoenix knew to be notorious bullies, shoved him out of the way, he tried to keep her eye. She flowed passed the bullies effortlessly, politely yet obviously ignoring them to come to a halt beside Wren on purpose. She held out her hand towards him, and he took it, gallantly leading her to the center of the room. If she remembered correctly, he had been an excellent student of dance and would help her keep her feet during this first dance when all eyes would be on them.

He did not disappoint. He bowed deeply to her while holding one hand in hers, and she curtseyed back. Music welled up around them, echoing off the wooden walls, and Wren sprung to motion. He led her through the difficult steps of the dance with ease, making them seem to fairly fly across the floor. Her skirts billowed out around her perfectly, exactly as the designer had intended, creating an art-in-motion work of genius.

"Guess what?" he whispered in her ear as the dance brought them up close.

"What?"

"I saw the unicorn this morning; it does exist!" he said excitedly, whirling her around in a circle before pulling her close to dip her deeply towards the floor.

"You did?" she exclaimed with similar enthusiasm, almost missing her footing.

Before Phoenix's duties had claimed her for other pursuits, she and Wren had spent hours devouring the histories of strange creatures that once were. She felt a twinge of jealousy that he had been free to pursue this, but quickly shrugged it off. Jealousy was not an emotion befitting a princess.

"Yes!" he confirmed, still perfectly moving to the dance steps. "Only for a moment, but it was there."

"That's amazing," Phoenix had time to exclaim before the dance twirled them away from one another for the grand finale of movements.

When the music ended and another tune began, people joined in the dancing, taking the attention off of Phoenix. She smiled gratefully at Wren, who was still holding her hand. He was looking at her with a peculiar gleam in his eye, and her smile wavered. Struggling to maintain her happy expression, she waited for him to speak.

"Happy birthday, Phoebe," Wren said.

He then produced a small package seemingly out of thin air. Phoebe was lost as to where he might have hidden it during their dance. He held it out to her, and she eyed it reluctantly, knowing that taking it would ruin a friendship she had cherished. She sighed inwardly, making sure to keep her semblance of easy comfort, and took the gift from him. It was a rectangular object, wrapped in beautiful blue, silken fabric and topped with a white ribbon.

She held it for a moment, running her hand across the smooth wrapping, her heart aching. "Thank you, Wren. That's very kind of you, though it wasn't necessary. You've already given me the best gift by maneuvering me through that first dance so seamlessly."

He watched her, his eyes darting down to her motionless hands, where she simply held the package. "Well, go on then. Open it up," he prompted, his voice shaking the tiniest bit.

Phoenix smiled again, with sadness in her eyes, as she pulled on the end of the white ribbon. It slipped loose of its charge, letting the blue fabric underneath fall apart to reveal the contents. The cover of a book emerged from the wrapping, and its title stood out starkly, embossed onto the leather – "Love Poems".

"It's a collection from the Golden Age," Wren told her excitedly, "I found them when I was doing my research and...and thought of you," he added this last part shyly.

He looked down for a moment, then back up to meet her eyes, his brown orbs filled with hopeful longing. Phoenix held her breath, willing him to stop. "I-" he began, stammering slightly, "I love you, Phoebe. I always have. I know we haven't really had the chance to spend much time together the last few years except for formal functions, but I was hoping that now that I'm on my own and you're turning eighteen..." he paused, "I was hoping that you would do me the honor of allowing me to court you," he finally spit out.

Phoenix was silent for a long moment, gathering her thoughts. Finally she spoke, steeling herself for the pain. "I love you, too, Wren." As hope sprang up in his eyes, she quickly added, "But like a brother. You and I are not meant to be. Being with me would suffocate you. My life is about duty and perfection. Though I often wish I could join you in your research, I cannot." She paused before adding with a small smile, "You will make someone very happy someday, but I'm afraid it won't be me." Though it was true that their lifestyles were incompatible, it was more than that. She cherished his friendship, but wanted nothing more. She longed to keep the close relationship they had, but had known when she first noticed his interest that someday it would have to come to an end. She had seen very little of him lately anyway for the very reasons she'd told him a courtship wouldn't work, but the loss somehow seemed more final now.

Her heart ached, but she let him take his hand away from hers without trying to stop him. She knew he'd be embarrassed, and anger was a common tool to cover that emotion.

He admirably said nothing, simply giving her a stiff bow and walking off. Luckily, she'd had the foresight to make sure that they were in a corner and out of the prying eyes and ears of their peers that he would at least be spared that embarrassment. The only ones who had heard were her guards, and none of them would ever gossip about what they witnessed in her presence.

She sadly watched him go, and glanced back down at the poetry book. It was a lovely gift, and had it not come with the painful strings attached, she would very much have liked it. She had noticed the affection in his looks lately – she would have had to have been blind not to notice – and had purposefully avoided him at functions, hoping he would find another interest. It had been to no avail, it seemed.

Sighing, she set the book down on the table, already piled high with other gifts, and looked out across the throng of people once again. She saw Rhys, another childhood friend, leaning against the opposite wall, scowling at nothing in particular. She caught his eye and he smiled at her, giving her a little salute and mouthing, "Happy Birthday". He didn't move to come closer, however.

There were plenty of courtiers that she recognized, many of whom had come to various functions at the palace, but none of which had become especially close to her. With the exceptions of Wren and Rhys who had both known the royal life as youngsters, friends she now had were usually too intimidated by the station to get too intimate.

Regina Atwald waved enthusiastically and came over, slowing nervously as she approached the guards surrounding Phoenix. Phoenix waved them off, unable to help feeling slightly annoyed by their presence. She carefully masked this emotion and hugged Regina.

Regina's father was obsessed with birds of prey, a passion that his daughter shared. Phoenix had spent many afternoons in her company. Though she herself had no talent with the flighty beasts, it entertained her to no end to watch the miraculous-seeming feats that Regina and her father could entice them to accomplish.

"Happy Birthday!" the girl exclaimed cheerily.

Regina examined the boxes and boxes of presents, and then grabbed one from beneath the pile. Phoenix quickly put up a hand to avoid the lot of them falling towards the two girls, and a guard moved forward to re-pile them for her.

"Whoops," Regina said, scurrying skittishly away from the guard's gesture, then ignoring him to hand Phoenix the box. "This one is from me. Open!" she commanded. Then, with another nervous glance at the man still hovering nearby, she added, "Your Highness."

Phoenix smiled. Regina's long black braid was bouncing up and down across her corseted front as she hopped around in excitement. She let herself get caught up in her friend's enthusiasm. She tore off the wrapping paper eagerly and then more carefully opened the box inside. It held a gorgeous set of earrings, encrusted with green jewels attached to long delicate feathers – no doubt from their own birds. Phoenix took them out gently and held them to her ears in awe. A guard moved out of the way to allow her access to the mirror by the wall, and she admired how they looked.

"Oh, Regina," she exclaimed. "They're heavenly. Thank you so much!"

She chatted politely with Regina for a few more minutes until another young person came forward, and Regina was escorted away to allow the next guest to present their gift. Phoenix spent the afternoon accepting more and more elaborate and extravagant gifts as the well-wishers advanced in age.

Finally, she had gotten through the entire procession, and Phoenix breathed a sigh of relief, putting a hand to her stomach. One of the knights came forward to whisper in her ear.

"There's no one immediately requiring your attention, Princess, if you'd like to retire into the chamber beyond for a moment or two of solitude."

Phoenix sent him a grateful look. After glancing around quickly to make sure he was correct that she wasn't snubbing anyone to retreat for a moment, she took his advice and slipped into the chamber. It was empty, save for the guards who followed her in, and Phoenix sat on the plush couch.

To think that this celebration was only the beginning. Her eighteenth birthday marked the culmination of a unification process that had been going on her entire life. Her mother, Queen Layna, had agreed to merge the two countries of Gelendan and Treymayne into the larger country they now called Elaeld. For the last eighteen years it had been ruled by her mother and the leaders of the old Endlyfta council – or Ieldran as it was called. This Triumvirate of leaders was headed by Lady Aria, and it was commonly accepted that it was Queen Layna and Lady Aria who ran the country, though they were backed by the now-combined Council. There was even talk that the tribes far to the north may consent to becoming an official part of the country. At the moment, there was an alliance between them, strengthened by Lady Katya's leadership of the tribes and position within the Elaeld court.

Now that Phoenix had come of age, however, the complete unification would commence. Next summer there would be a massive ceremony to crown her as the first official monarch of the new country of Elaeld. The event was sure to make even this extravagant affair seem a simple tea party.

She sighed and stood from the couch, strolling over to the glass doors that led out to a balcony off the side of the ship. The yacht had been commissioned for the event so that the party could flow down through the middle of the country, allowing more citizens to feel as though they were in attendance.

Phoenix pulled the doors open and stepped out onto the deck. The wind blew softly against her skin, and she smelled the faint odor of fish and water plants. She looked down at the water far below her. The motion of the boat could hardly be felt, but the combination of the vague feeling of movement and the height from which she was looking straight down from made her feel momentarily dizzy. She looked out across the water instead. The boats that lined the river around them were dwarfed by the massive yacht they were on. The shorelines were filled with well-wishers, waving and shouting things she couldn't make out. Regardless, Phoenix beamed at them and waved. She caught a tiny child's eye, who was waving at her from a closely passing boat, and she switched up her wave. Instead of giving her the regal side to side motion, she just waggled her fingers up and down at the little girl so she'd know it was directed to her.

The little girl squealed in excitement, loud enough for Phoenix to hear, and her smile widened. The little girl giggled gleefully and tugged at her mother's skirt, pointing towards the princess. The mother's gaze also directed towards her, and she nodded at the woman.

Phoenix glanced sideways at the rows of mages out on balconies similar to hers and made a small gesture at the girl's boat. One of them stepped forward and made a throwing motion with his arm. A shower of flowers and candy burst forth from thin air, landing all over the decks of the nearest boats, including that of the child. The little girl scrambled around to collect it.

Phoenix spent a fair amount of time waving to the people, still amazed that so many had turned out for the event, before finally retiring inside the cabin. Eventually, she could spend no more time in solitude without appearing rude, and she re-entered the festivities.

A copious amount of food was laid out, and she marveled at the ingenious creativity of the cooks. There was a bouquet of flowers made entirely out of fruits, beautifully displayed assortments of pastries and sweets to please any palate, and the masterpiece proudly presented in the middle of the cabin: a five-tiered, larger-than-she, grand exhibit of a dessert.

Her birthday cake.

Excited shouting suddenly sprang up from the front deck, and Phoenix hurried along with everyone else to see what all the fuss was about. The doors banged open as people scrambled to make sure they didn't miss the excitement, and Phoenix was momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight.

She blinked her eyes to adjust them to the sudden light and was pushed by the crowd farther onto the deck. Her guards pressed in close around her and shoved people out of her space. She waved a hand at them that she was fine, but they paid her no heed. More people were shouting, trying to make themselves heard over the din, and were pointing, wide-eyed, to something off the bow of the yacht.

As she was carried along with the swarm of people to the edge of the boat, she finally saw what everyone was pointing to. Far off in the distance, out in the open water of the sea, was another vessel, one as large as the one they were sailing. This struck her as strange; as far as Phoenix knew, this was the only vessel ever built this large.

She fervently hoped that this was not her parents' idea of a birthday gift for her. They knew she loved to sail, and they had a propensity for being quite extravagant in their gifts. Phoenix always felt as though they were trying to make up for something. It would be like them to have commissioned this boat for her party only to present her with one of her own during the event.

A quick glance back at the deck above where her parents now stood, partially set back from the main party, told her this wasn't the case. Both wore concerned expressions that each was struggling to hide. Lady Katya and Lord Hunter stood beside them, flanked by a fair number of Council members. Katya's face, as always, was impassive, but Hunter was staring at the vessel with unveiled disbelief, his mouth hung wide open in surprise. This was obviously not something that the royals had planned.

Phoenix peered at the ship with more interest, trying to make out the symbols carved into its sides. It had a large figure of what appeared to be a woman sticking out from its hull in the front, proudly slicing its way through the waves. The vessel bounced slightly, riding the harsher swells of the open sea towards the mouth of the Great River that their own ship was floating down.

The motion of the foreign ship halted; the scurrying about of the sailors could be seen as they rushed around to take down sails and secure them. A gigantic anchor was dropped into the water behind them, making a magnificent splash, and the vessel stilled.

A flag flapped carelessly in the wind, mounted atop its crow's nest – a black silhouette of a panther with a large green eye. The crowd around Phoenix fell silent and watched in tense anticipation. Faces turned to look up at the royal party and the Council. Slowly, Queen Layna and First Advisor Aria moved forward. Though Phoenix had no talent, she knew by the faraway look in her mother's eye, that she was using her other-sight to see farther into the distance, and perhaps even attempt communication with the unknown vessel.

After a few tense moments, her features relaxed almost imperceptibly, but the watching faces were so intent upon her that all caught the subtle sign. Whatever she had seen had erased the worry. Apparently this strange ship posed no immediate threat. Phoenix turned with the others to eagerly await their next move.

They made no move, however, simply mooring where they were and allowing the Elaeld ship to come to them. All eyes turned once again to Phoenix's mother.

Queen Layna made a tiny nod, no doubt instructing the captain what to do, then made the outward gesture for all those aboard to see. She raised a hand and extended her arm, making an arc from her shoulder out in front of her, indicating that they were moving forward. The yacht moved with tantalizing slowness, out towards the mouth of the river, out towards the open sea beyond...out to greet the foreign vessel.
CHAPTER 2

Rhys removed himself from his position against the wall, his every muscle aching. He tugged at the fine clothes irritably and tried to see what the fuss was all about. When he finally pushed through the crowd, earning him several sour looks and a jab in his sore ribs, he caught sight of the other ship.

He let out a low whistle under his breath. To the best of his knowledge, there was no other vessel like the one they were on, which meant that this one wasn't from around here. There had been rumors of sailors exploring the waters beyond, building bigger and sturdier boats for the rougher travel. But so far, none had returned having discovered anything.

Apparently, these people had sped along their abilities and beaten any of Elaeld's sailors to it. As their yacht drew closer, Rhys eyed the jewel-encrusted hull of the newcomer's ship greedily. He wondered who these people were that they could so carelessly put such wealth into decorating an exploration vessel.

The figurehead was that of a woman, draped in real jewels, and holding a gigantic ruby out in front of her as she crashed through the waves. The trim of the ship was painted gold, and appeared to be scattered with more jewels as well, if the sparkling in the sunlight was any indication.

Rhys perked up. _Just a few of those stones could clear up my debt with Jak_ , he thought. _And if they have so many that they can plaster them on ships, they'll hardly miss them_. He normally didn't drool over wealth quite this much, but with Jak on his back it made it suddenly much more appealing. He'd made the decision to borrow money from Jak rather than draw out the process when he'd realized that his goal was time-sensitive, but the effects of that decision were rather painful. Rhys shifted his weight off his sore ankle.

He watched with everyone else as Queen Layna motioned that they would approach the visitor's vessel. Rhys tried to determine whether or not he could get to the other ship undetected long enough to steal a stone or two. Seeing as how everyone's attention was currently trained on the boat, however, it didn't seem likely that he would get away with it. He'd have to be patient.

Their yacht drew up alongside the other ship, not too close, but close enough that the occupants of each could see one another. A large party of people stood on the deck of their boat, waiting expectantly. When the yacht slowed to a stop, the apparent leader of the party made a motion towards a rowboat, obviously asking permission to come aboard the yacht.

The man's gaze was focused appropriately on the royal party for the permission, and Queen Layna glanced around at her peers, then nodded. The crowd watched with rapt attention as the other vessel's crew readied a boat to transport them to the waiting yacht. Guards suddenly erupted out of the woodwork, streaming onto the main deck and making a corridor of empty space through the crowd from the boat's docking position to the chamber where the royals would meet with the visitors.

While most of the crowd pushed forward, trying to maneuver themselves closer to the corridor, Rhys headed out of the masses. He slipped along the back wall inconspicuously, and ducked under a table and out through the kitchen. Even the staff was pressed up against the glass of the doors, trying to catch a glimpse of the goings-on, and they didn't notice him sneaking past. Rhys caught a glimpse of two people walking slowly down the corridor of people, and he increased his pace.

Rhys was adept at inserting himself in places he wasn't supposed to be, and always did his homework. He'd already scoped out the entire ship during construction, so knew right where to go. He squeezed his aching body between two pipes and snuck along the maintenance access to emerge directly above the royal cabin. He shoved his head as far out into the center as it could go, causing a painful tweak in his shoulder, so that he could see down into the room. It appeared that the strangers had just entered.

Queen Layna glanced up, perhaps having heard his motion, and he froze. Her gaze seemed to focus directly on him and then through him before she turned her attention back to the two men in front of her. She had always seemed to uncannily know whenever he had snuck into Phoenix's rooms at night to try and tempt her to mischief.

The two men were dressed in fine robes, which seemed to hang with more weight than one would imagine, and each one's neck was adorned with great chain necklaces. On these, were many bottles, ranging in size and shape, and all seeming to contain some sort of faintly glowing liquid. Both necklaces had a pendant in the middle, amidst the bottles, of a glowing green eye, much like the panther eye on the flag of the ship. Each man had leather belts strapped across their chest as well, once again decorated with bottles and containers of all sorts.

Rhys mentally tallied the value of each man's attire. His head spun with the wealth with which they were each adorned.

They waited patiently for Queen Layna to speak. After a tense moment, she began. "Welcome to Elaeld," she greeted them, holding out her hands in salutation. "I am Queen Layna, and this is my husband, King Gryffon." She faced the Council members and motioned to each as she said his or her name. "First Advisor Aria," she paused while the lady nodded, "and other members of the Triumvirate: Lord Frolkon and Master Banys. Lady Katya, Speaker of the Tribes."

Rhys slunk a little farther back into hiding as his mother stepped forward to acknowledge her announcement. The two strangers nodded to each, then the one on the left spoke. "I am Herald Siajan and this is Herald Kedum. We come as ambassadors for the great Empire of Tyekath and for her Illustrious Highness, Empress Morvanna."

"May I inquire as to the purpose of your visit to our land?" the Queen asked.

"We are a vessel of exploration. We knew not that we would stumble upon another civilization, but now that we have done so, her Illustrious Highness has bid us to make introductions."

Queen Layna's eyebrows rose slightly, and Rhys realized that having the ability to communicate at such a large distance would be quite a feat. No doubt these people had magic. Rhys had a small amount of talent himself, inherited from his mother, and he carefully opened himself to the power to use his magesight to see for himself. As his probes ran over the visitors, however, he felt nothing. He broke the connection and sat back on his heels in confusion. His instincts didn't normally prove wrong.

"We would be honored to have you stay with us at the royal palace for as long as you wish," Queen Layna told them politely. "We will have much to discuss, I'd imagine. However, as this visit was completely unexpected, my people are sure to cause quite a stir when you pull onto shore. For that reason, I suggest that you stay on your ship until we are able to put together the necessary guards to safely transport you back to our palace."

Rhys smiled at her tactful way of telling them not to go anywhere until she was prepared to deal with them. Phoenix always said that her mother hated speaking in public and making speeches, but she seemed to be very good at it. Rhys glanced behind the Queen to where Dame Natalya was standing. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that her personal guard doubled as her speech-writer. She always had someone to prompt her when she needed it.

The captain of the knights and the Queen's personal guard, Dame Natalya, was famed for her speeches in the beginning of Queen Layna's reign which had rallied the people to support the new monarch. Rhys knew that she continued in this capacity as well as performing her new duties as royal guard. He studied Natalya a moment. She must have been wholesomely pretty in her youth, though her features were beginning to show her age. Rhys caught a glimpse of Natalya's sister, Alina, behind her, and he involuntarily shuddered. He didn't know anyone who wasn't put on edge by Lady Alina. She was always hovering in Natalya's shadow, but was the opposite of her sister. Alina's features were always hidden beneath the dark folds of her hood in contrast to Natalya's very public persona.

"That is most appreciated," Herald Siajan acknowledged the offer.

Both heralds bowed slightly to Queen Layna, taking her comment as a dismissal. Herald Siajan then clasped his hand around one of the vials at his neck. He loosed it from the chain and without warning smashed it onto the floor.

Those present took surprised steps backwards as smoke billowed up from where the vial had broken, and the two men suddenly disappeared. Only Queen Layna, the King, and Rhys's mother remained in place. Guards drew their weapons, but Layna shook her head negatively in Natalya's direction who barked orders for them to be re-sheathed.

Rhys was dumbstruck. He had just probed the two visitors himself and seen that they possessed no magic – not even enough to activate a charm. Either the heralds were so strong that they could completely mask their power from him, or the people of this new empire knew something about the power that Elaeld did not. Either was disconcerting. Rhys decided that perhaps it would be prudent to learn more about these visitors before contemplating stealing from them.

He suddenly found himself transported into the midst of the people below, and his mother gave him a reproachful stare.

Queen Layna was the one who spoke. "I trust you caught that entire conversation, Rhys?" she queried.

He mumbled an unintelligible response. His mother cleared her throat pointedly. "Yes, Your Highness," he answered.

"Good," she surprised him by saying. "I need you to go to Phoenix in her chambers and tell her what has transpired. She's rather put out at having been ordered to stay in her room, but I couldn't risk her, you understand." Despite her lack of response to the strangers' sudden disappearance, she looked rather shaken by the unexpected display. Rhys nodded. "I also want you to stay with her for the remainder of the party. I don't want to cancel the rest of the day, but if something should go awry, I expect that you know every nook and cranny on this ship to whisk her away to safety, hmm?"

She gave him a shrewd look, and he nodded again, a little sheepishly this time. Perhaps he hadn't been as inconspicuous as he thought when he wandered the hallways during construction to learn their layout.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

He bowed deeply to the Queen and avoided his mother's glare, backing out of the doorway. When he arrived at Phoenix's cabin, the guards immediately let him enter, and he found her pacing in front of the door.

"What happened?" she asked him, not rudely, but bordering on irritable. She didn't seem the least bit surprised to find him entering her rooms. She was hardly ever surprised, having the uncanny knack for understanding people better than they seemed to know themselves. No doubt, this fact made the arrival of these strange visitors all the more interesting to her. Rhys relayed all the information that he had observed and overheard while Phoenix listened intently.

"And Mother is still insisting that we go along with this silly party while the strangers are moored here?" Rhys knew that speaking against her mother was something that Phoenix would never do publically or outside of trusted company. He would never repeat it.

"We're to continue on to Avonmora as planned," he agreed. "Though I would expect that we'll be quite a few guards lighter as we pass. No doubt the shorelines all along here will be crawling with guards and knights within the hour."

"I guess we'll just have to wait to find out more then," Phoenix said serenely, her usual calm demeanor replacing the rarely-seen annoyance.

Though Rhys hated it, he had been raised in the courtly ways, and he put on his best behavior for Phoenix. "The cooks are probably chomping at the bit to cut the cake and show off their masterpiece. Shall we go relieve them of their misery?" He gallantly motioned towards the door, trying to block the pain the motion caused his injured ribs. He forced a smile, though he had the feeling it turned more into a pained grimace as he tried unsuccessfully to bow without reopening wounds.

"Thank you, Rhys."

Phoenix took his arm gently and the two of them made their way back out among the gathered people. Most kept glancing past them, looking for signs of the two strange men who had been escorted to the royal chambers. When no one emerged after some time, they too turned their attention to the massive confection.

Phoenix sliced the first piece and handed it out, then one of the servants took over the duty. She waved away a piece for herself and fulfilled her responsibility of playing hostess. Rhys drifted through the crowd with her, always close by, and kept an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. The only thing he saw was that Wren was now the one hugging the walls morosely. He had been in a good mood earlier in the party, and Rhys wondered what had changed. Rhys caught Phoenix surreptitiously glance in the sulking boy's direction more than once, a sad look on her face. Rhys realized what must have occurred. He and Wren rarely ran in the same circles anymore, but he had seen him enough to have noticed the infatuation he had for the Princess. Perhaps today was the day he'd chosen to express those feelings to her. _Bad luck_.

When the day finally wound down to a close, he was exhausted. He had been glued to Phoenix's side until she was safely within the palace walls, and had only been allowed to return home long after the party was over. So much courtly behavior was beginning to make his head pound, although the rest of his body was beginning to feel a little better.

He collapsed backwards onto his bed. He had almost drifted off in the uncomfortable position – his legs still dangling off the side – when there was a knock and Jayson entered.

"You'd better get out of those clothes before you ruin them by sleeping in them," he scolded. "Your mother would never let you live that one down."

Rhys groaned. "Yes, and she's so pleased with me at the moment anyway."

"Oh?" Jayson asked innocently. "And why is that?"

Rhys glowered at him, sitting up and attempting to disrobe. "Other than the obvious?" He gave Jayson a shrewd look, squinting through his black eye. "Well, I may have also been caught listening in on a conversation between the royals and the strangers."

Jayson gasped. "You didn't!" He grabbed hold of the shirt that Rhys was struggling with and pulled it over his head. Unfortunately, this wrenched Rhys's arms upwards painfully, and he couldn't suppress a pained hiss.

Jayson's eyebrows lifted as he examined the extent of Rhys's bruises. His whole side was a deep shade of purple and obviously swollen. "We should get a healer in here," Jayson said, moving towards the door. Rhys stopped him.

"No, no healer. My mother will probably forbid it anyway. She likes me to suffer."

"That's not true," Jayson refuted, but he moved back to the bed. He looked closer at the bruises and prodded Rhys's ribs a bit. Rhys bit his lip to keep from complaining. "They're likely broken," he said finally, "but they're still in place. You'll just have to be gentle with them for a few weeks, and you'll be fine." He took a cloth off the bedside table and dipped it into the water basin, handing it to Rhys to cool his hurt ribs. Jayson left for a moment to rummage in the closet, returning with a chain attached to a gaudy pendant. "You know, if you'd had this on they would already be starting to knit back together."

"It doesn't go with my outfit," Rhys replied in his best imitation of the courtly women.

Jayson set the pendant down on the bedside table. With its close proximity, Rhys could feel it as the healing charm began to work. It was attuned to him and he was supposed to wear it all the time, but it was much too bulky for most of his activities and he felt silly wearing it. Rhys was glad that Jayson had thought to dig it out as even though it wasn't much, he did feel instant lessening of the pain.

"So what did the strangers want?" Jayson asked.

Rhys smiled despite the pain. "I knew you wouldn't be able to contain your curiosity. Do you really want to know?" he asked, knowing the question would annoy Jayson, "even knowing I did something sneaky to get it? Wouldn't that make you like an accomplice?"

Jayson glared at him, obviously warring with himself, trying to ignore his interest in the matter. He finally decided that knowing was better than being stubborn and refusing to ask out of pride. "Yes, tell me."

Rhys beamed. "Well, they were dripping with jewelry...some sort of liquids and powders and whatnot in bottles on chains and in their clothes. And one of them used one of these to transport back onto their vessel. By smashing it on the floor. He had this vial of who-knows-what, and when it broke on the floor, all this smoke came out and the two men disappeared. That's why they never came out of the royal chambers."

"Like a charm?"

"Sort-of," Rhys agreed, "but..." he grasped for a way to explain it, "different. I couldn't even tell they were touching the power, and there wasn't that ripple through the power you'd usually feel when a charm is activated. I don't know how to describe it."

"Huh," was Jayson's only response. He had no talent of his own, so magic was magic to him. Rhys was still a bit mystified by the strange power these men held.

"Where are they from?" Jayson folded the covers back so that Rhys could get comfortable underneath without pulling more strained muscles before going to stand by the end-table.

"They called it Tyekath, ruled by the Empress Morvanna."

"How did we not know it existed? How big it is? What do they want?" Jayson fired off the three questions so quickly Rhys wouldn't have had the chance to respond even if he had the answers. Jayson almost knocked over the candle he was picking up in his excitement.

Rhys held up his hands. "Whoa, slow down. I don't know. They'll be coming to the palace soon. I expect we'll find out more then. Basically the Queen told them not to go anywhere until she gives them an invite to the palace. Once they're here, we'll be able to ask lots of questions." He snuggled down into the blankets.

"I just hope they don't practice dark magic," Jayson said ominously, the candle he held casting eerie shadows across his face.

Rhys covered up the fact that he rolled his eyes by closing them – and fell promptly asleep.

*

Phoenix paced her rooms irritably. She'd just barely made it through the rest of the party, and only because of Rhys's constant presence on her arm. She still couldn't believe that it hadn't been cancelled in the wake of the day's events. Not only had she been obligated to host the rest of the party, but her parents had disappeared for the remainder of the evening. No doubt they were discussing the ramifications of the visitors without her. The curiosity was driving her crazy.

A knock sounded at the door, and she opened it so quickly that her mother jumped. Her hand was still upright, about to knock again. Phoenix immediately began to pepper her with questions.

"How could you leave me alone at the party like that? Where are those people from? What are you going to do about them? Did you have a Council meeting?"

Her mother looked taken aback a moment and looked down at her hands. Phoenix's eyes followed hers, and she saw that her mother was holding a small, wrapped package. She abruptly stopped her questioning and opened the door wider so that her mother could enter.

"Happy birthday," her mother said, handing her the gift.

"Thanks, Mom," Phoenix said, giving her a hug. Drawing her inside, they sat on the couch, and she carefully unwrapped the package. She forestalled her curiosity another few moments to enjoy their birthday tradition. Inside was a stone pendant attached to a delicate chain. She held it up and rolled her hair up in her hand so that it was out of the way so her mother could clasp it around her neck. When it was on, she held it up so that she could better see.

"It's beautiful. Thank you."

"It's a magic amulet," Layna explained. "The royal mages and I have been discussing your ability to read people and how ailments tend to disappear when you are near, and we thought that it could possibly be some form of your own talent. We formulated this amulet to hopefully help increase your natural empathy and healing powers."

Phoenix smiled and looked thoughtfully down at her new necklace for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. "I don't blame you, you know."

"What do you mean?" her mother asked, drawing back so that she could better look into Phoenix's face.

"For not having talent." Phoenix shrugged. "Everyone knows that my talent was sacrificed so that the Bricrui plague could end when I was a baby." Her mother was silent. "But I don't blame you for that decision. I would have made the same choice, had I been old enough to make it for myself. You and Dad don't need to feel like you have something to make up for."

"We don't- " her mother began, but Phoenix cut her off.

"A necklace to increase abilities that I might or might not have? What about the multitudes of charms and stones that have been spelled so that I can activate them even with no magic?" She gave her mother a look. "The gigantic barn you built for me when I expressed that I had an interest in horses? I asked for a horse, and I got a whole herd. When I asked for a new dress, I got an entire wardrobe and a seamstress just for me."

"You're my daughter," Layna protested. "You deserve every happiness we can give you. We happen to be very fortunate that we are able to offer you a lot."

Phoenix eyed her mother shrewdly, fingered the necklace one more time, then dropped both it and the subject. "Well," she said, "it's beautiful, and I love it. Thank you very much." Putting on a more mischievous expression, she poked her mother's side. "Now, tell me all about the strangers already!"

Unfortunately, her mother didn't have a whole lot more information than Phoenix had already pried out of Rhys. Most of the new news was simply what the Council had decided to do about it. As her mother had implied, they were making preparations to invite the strangers to come stay at the palace in hopes of learning more about them.

When her mother left, Phoenix was exhausted, but found that she couldn't sleep. Instead, she paced the floor of her room trying to imagine the country where the strangers had come from. They had slightly darker skin than most in Elaeld, though she had no idea if this was a common trait with their people, or simply a coincidence that both the Heralds were so. Their speech was also strange. Though she had been whisked away before she'd heard much of it, her mother had described the accent to her. The majority of the terms they'd used had been shared by both their languages, though with an accent, but Layna had reported that there were some words that were completely foreign. Phoenix wasn't sure which was stranger: the differences in their speech or the fact that an empire with whom they had no record of contact with spoke the same language at all. She had another pang of sadness as she thought that this would be an interesting topic to bring up with Wren. She had no doubt that he would have a theory on the possibility of a shared history between Elaeld and the Empire; two separated peoples sharing the same parent language.

Eventually her pacing drew the attention of Alisha, her maid, who slept in the next room over. She entered wordlessly and set a burning candle she'd carried in on the bedside table. Her eyes looked puffy and she squinted in the light as though she had recently been sleeping.

"There's no need for you to lose sleep simply because I am up," Phoenix told her.

"Nonsense, My Lady," Alisha replied. "I would never let you fret in here without company. What's bothering you?"

Phoenix sighed and contemplated ordering Alisha back to bed, but her desire for a companion in her frustration overruled this thought. "I've been going back and forth trying to decide where the strangers are from and imagine everything about them when really I just need to be patient and wait for them to give us the answers."

Alisha nodded. "I know what you mean. But you're right. We won't really know anything until they get here and start answering questions." She rubbed her tired eyes. "Perhaps you just need something else to think about for a bit? Or some warm milk?" She started to get up, but Phoenix stopped her.

"No, thank you, Alisha, but I don't want you wandering even farther from your bed." She took in the dark circles around the woman's eyes and felt guilty for keeping her awake. "Maybe you're right. What else shall we talk about?"

"Did you have a nice birthday party?"

"Of course," Phoenix replied with a smile. "Did you see the size of the celebration? I don't think there was a soul in the country who didn't have a nice party today."

"Indeed, My Lady," Alisha agreed. "I must say, the cake was spectacular. I think I may have put on five pounds with the amount of food laid out."

Phoenix laughed. "Well, I'm glad that someone enjoyed it. I admit that I was a bit too preoccupied once the strangers showed up to taste much of anything."

"And what about the young Lord Wren?" Alisha commented innocently. "The dance between the two of you was beautiful."

Phoenix's smiled faded. "I'm afraid that Wren wanted our friendship to be something more."

Alisha gave her an impish grin, missing Phoenix's sadness. "Really?" she asked a bit too casually.

Phoenix pretended to glare at her. "Alright, yes, he has been a bit obvious about it. I was just hoping that he'd never actually decide to act on it, or he'd get bored with me and move on."

"You don't return his feelings then," Alisha stated, her grin replaced by a disappointed look.

"I'm afraid not."

"That's too bad," her maid lamented. "I always did like him. Much better than that Rhys fellow. He's a bad influence on you, always trying to get you to sneak out and do who-knows-what."

Phoenix snorted. "He's not that bad. Usually he just wanted to go play in the gardens or go look at a forbidden book in the library. It's not like we were being _that_ naughty. And I've hardly seen him at all the last few years at all." She laughed lightly. "Besides, most of the time Mother would show up before we even got out the door. I don't know how she did it." She shook her head ruefully.

The two were silent for a few moments while Phoenix reveled in memories of her youth: when she still had free time. It wasn't long after, however, that a yawn interrupted these thoughts. Her tiredness finally having caught up with her, she rose to get into bed.

When she looked back at Alisha, however, she found her snoring lightly in the chair. Phoenix debated whether or not to wake her, but she looked so comfortable she decided against it. She climbed into her bed and blew out the two candles.

*

Wren was crushed. Even the arrival of the strange people did little to soften the blow of Phoenix's rejection. He couldn't believe it. He had spent so much time hoping to impress her and win her attention only to have all his hopes dashed. She loved him _as a brother_.

It was some consolation that no one else had been around to witness his humiliation, but he couldn't shake his disappointment. _So much effort wasted._ Even his search for the unicorn had stemmed from a desire to rekindle the connection he'd had with her when they had researched it together. He'd hoped that in finding it, she would come out with him to look, and he'd have the picnic blanket all set up, and the – he stopped himself. There was no point in playing it all out how he had wanted it to go. It obviously was never going to happen. He was just _like a brother_ to her.

He grunted.

At least the commotion with the strangers had caused his parents to be called away, so no one noticed when he sulked around the rest of the party. He was grateful that his mother hadn't seen him. There'd be no avoiding her questions, and he really didn't feel like explaining why he was suddenly in a bad mood.

He made it back to his quarters and plopped down onto the armchair by the fire. He touched the book that lay on the table next to it but didn't pick it up. He moved it away and began to drum his fingers on the table as his mind wandered. The strangers did pique his curiosity. He hadn't been able to push himself close enough to see them, so he had resigned himself to studying their ship while everyone crowded around the royal chambers.

The massive vessel had been covered with jewels, and he wondered if they were real precious gems. It seemed odd to sail such a long distance with such wealth on your boat, but perhaps the gems were so common in their land that they were worthless.

The flag of the ship was the black outline of a panther, complete with a glowing green eye. The markings tugged at his memory, but he couldn't place the reference. The Hall of History had logs of voyages made in hopes of finding distant lands. It may well have been in one of these that he had seen it. Perhaps it was in a story that had not been given the credit it was due. It did appear that there were indeed other lands out there, so maybe some of the sailors were actually telling the truth and their stories were not the tall tales often accredited to them.

Most of his own work centered around the local histories, but he had sat through a lecture or two on distant exploration. The lands to the north were known to be those of the tribes, and through the combined efforts of the tribesmen and Elaeld pioneers the country was constantly expanding their knowledge northwards. The chaotic magic of this place had to be slowly tamed so that it was safe to traverse, so progress was slow. So far, however, no discoveries of new peoples had been made.

The inhospitable areas around Elaeld where bandits and thieves made their homes served as a barrier between the country and the sea on two sides, with the southernmost section of the country opening directly onto the water. Avonmora was the biggest port town, and it was here where most of the sea voyages set sail.

His hand brushed against the book on the table and he glanced at it. It was a journal of a bard long dead, who spoke of a strange horse-like creature in the woods with a long protrusion from its forehead. It was the first mention of the unicorn that Wren had ever come across. It was dated many years ago which had made Wren initially assume that the beast was a figment of the past. However, he'd since found many more recent accounts that made him re-think this assumption.

Unfortunately, thinking about the unicorn brought him back to thinking about Phoenix. He glared at the book sourly. _Maybe I won't even bother looking for the unicorn again,_ he thought spitefully. After all, it had only been a way to try and entice Phoenix to spend time with him once more.

He suddenly threw a fist down onto the table, causing his book to bounce clean off. _No!_ He wouldn't let her rejection stop him from following his dreams. He'd been the one who was initially interested in the beast. By the Three, he was going to pursue it all by himself.

He stooped down and whisked the book off the floor, replacing it on the table. He went to his closet and dug around for the other tomes he'd recently found that mentioned the creature, piling these high on the table as well. Grabbing another handful of candles, he settled himself comfortably onto the chair and cracked open the first book, determined to research for the rest of the night.
CHAPTER 3

The palace was in an uproar. Servants and courtiers alike swarmed through the courtyards and hallways like angry bees. The excitement and tension were almost palpable in the air. Everyone wanted to know about the visitors. Where were they from? How did they get here? What did they want?

Phoenix stepped out of the way of a passing maid, pausing a moment to watch the confusion. The visitors were coming to the palace this afternoon, and everything had to be just so. She glanced back behind her – including a tripling of her guard. The captain of the guard, Dame Natalya, and her sister, Alina, had also been reassigned from the Queen to Phoenix. She didn't mind their company – before they had gone up to the tribes they had been her occasional nursemaids – but it seemed excessive.

Having them with her rekindled her curiosity, however. The two had spent years with the tribes, and though she had been too young to have the reasons explained to her, she understood that it was for healing. As adolescents, Natalya and Alina had spent their time split between their hometown of Hardonia and at the palace in Naoham. When Phoenix was maybe four or five, there had been rumors in the palace about a death in Hardonia, of a young man. She had been so small at the time that whenever she asked questions, the gossip would abruptly cease. Soon after this incident, Natalya and Alina had traveled north. After spending many years away, both had come back changed. Both had also become deadly, hence their usual place by her mother's side, and Phoenix felt a twinge of guilt that her mother had sacrificed their expertise on her.

This was the first time that Phoenix had spent more than fleeting moments in their company since their return excepting, of course, when they were on duty guarding her mother. When they came back from the tribes they were immediately assigned as the personal guards for her mother and father. They focused solely on their majesties' safety and kept to themselves outside their duties. Alina had become a sort of enigma in the palace, for she always wore a black hooded cloak which covered her face, and rarely spoke. It was a far cry from the boisterous and happy young teenager Phoenix remembered patiently playing with her when she was young. She had more than once wondered what had happened to that girl, yet her instincts told her that questioning the woman wouldn't turn out well. Whatever it was had taken years with the tribal healers to forget, and Phoenix had no wish to dredge up the memories.

She motioned for Natalya to join her, and the woman complied, moving forward through the throng of guards. Alina appeared seemingly magically beside her sister, the guards around the mysterious woman moving almost imperceptibly farther away from her flowing black cloak. Alina seemed to sense Phoenix's eyes on her, and she pulled the hood closer around her face. Despite the light that should have illuminated her features, they remained inexplicably blurred.

"Do you know where the visitors are staying?" Phoenix asked Natalya, pulling her gaze from Alina's darkened countenance.

"I believe they are being housed in the western wing, Your Majesty," the woman answered, bowing her head slightly to indicate the direction.

"Hmm," Phoenix murmured, "I should have known. It's the easiest section to control." She gave Natalya a wry smile, and the woman smiled back, a too-rare occurrence of late. Phoenix itched to ask why they had left and what had happened to them, but she knew that questions would only make the two retreat further into their seclusion. Even Natalya, who was much more open than her sister, would vehemently defend her sister's privacy in the face of questions. Phoenix knew from her mother that during the Bricrui outbreak, Alina had gone through a terrible ordeal from which Natalya had helped save her. She'd been fervently protective of her since. "When will we be presented to the visitors?" she asked instead.

"There will be a feast tonight to welcome them where all the introductions will be made."

"May we walk that way?" Phoenix inquired, suddenly feeling an urge to get another look at the party.

Natalya fidgeted a moment, glanced back at the entourage of guards, and nodded stiffly. She led the way towards the western wing. More guards were stationed at the beginning of each of the hallways leading to it, keeping out curious, prying eyes. These stepped aside for their group, however, saluting Dame Natalya as she passed and bowing to Princess Phoenix.

Phoenix nodded acknowledgment to each, pausing a moment to shake hands and introduce herself to several of the newest recruits, and thanking them for their service and loyalty. She inquired about Nathan's infant daughter, and how Phillip's mother's sickness was.

As they approached the visitors' rooms, they heard voices around the corner. Phoenix was not near enough to hear what they were saying, but the slight accent betrayed their foreign tongue.

A hushed command silenced the speakers and as Phoenix and her party rounded the corner, Heralds Siajan and Kedum stood beside a young man, flanked by their bodyguards on both sides.

Herald Siajan spoke. "Ah, Princess, how lovely to meet you. I had thought we would not be meeting until tonight." The way he pronounced certain sounds somehow made his words sound drastically different.

"And yet you already know who I am," Phoenix pointed out, extending a hand in greeting.

Siajan smiled slyly as he brushed his lips over her skin and answered, "As I am sure you know us, Princess."

Phoenix withdrew her hand and inclined her head in acknowledgment. The residents of the palace had, of course, been briefed on the descriptions of the visitors and all relevant information that was known about them. She found herself enjoying this man's boldness. "I do indeed know who you are, Herald Siajan" she said, "and you, Herald Kedum," nodding her head to each. She turned to the young man standing with them.

Phoenix curtsied to the boy, perhaps a year or so older than herself, and held out her hand. He hesitated a split second before taking it in his own and brushing his lips briefly over it. His eyes met hers, their dark centers staring resolutely back at her, his expression unreadable.

"I am Princess Phoenix," she offered, taking back her hand, to which he was still clinging gently, "but I'm afraid that in all the excitement, I don't believe anyone has mentioned to me what your name is?"

The boy's eyes shifted to look at Herald Siajan expectantly.

The older man gave Phoenix a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but the boy is unable to answer your question. You see, he was born with a malady which prevents him from communicating as you or I would."

"I'm very sorry," Phoenix said, inclining her head towards the boy, then turned her gaze towards Herald Siajan once more. "I would still like to know his name, if I may."

"Of course, Your Highness," the herald agreed. "It is Nathiwen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nathiwen."

Herald Siajan, interjected, "As I said, he has a malady: he cannot answer you."

"But surely he can understand common courtesy," Phoenix insisted, seeing the comprehension in the poor boy's eyes.

Herald Kedum spoke up, "My apologies, Highness, but we really must be getting to our rooms to begin preparations for tonight. I would expect that you also have somewhere to be? Surely, young women such as yourself do not make a habit of wandering the hallways unaccompanied."

The gentle reproach was not lost upon Phoenix, though she did not let it bother her. She turned her smile towards the man instead and laughed lightly. She glanced behind her at the multitude of guards. "I would hardly say that I am unaccompanied." She winked at Nathiwen, who didn't bat an eye. "But, you are correct. I won't keep you from your duties. It was a pleasure to meet you," she said to Nathiwen, though she received no response.

Despite Herald Kedum's obvious displeasure at her showing such an interest in Nathiwen, she couldn't help but feel badly for the boy. She knew what it was like to be treated as though you were missing something that you should have, even if their situations were much different.

Phoenix and her entourage moved away from the west wing, and once they were out of hearing range, she motioned Natalya forward once more.

"Did you notice anything strange about them?" she asked the woman, knowing she would have been examining them the entire conversation.

"Alina is wary of their lack of obvious talent," Natalya relayed. "It cannot be sensed within them, but there is an obvious aura of magic about them. She suspects that it is coming from the vials and bottles they wear."

"Backed up by the fact that one of these vials was smashed in order for them to transport back to their vessel when we first met them," Phoenix added distractedly. "Clearly they are magical even if they can't be sensed as such. So whatever type of magic they're using, it is different from ours. We shall have to ask."

"The boy's presence is also odd," Natalya put in.

"How so?"

"Why bring him? Why is he in the company of the two Heralds?"

Phoenix thought about this. "Perhaps he was one of their sons?"

Natalya gave her a look. "Did either one of them appear to feel very fatherly towards him?"

"No," Phoenix admitted, "but then again, it's hard to predict what a child's malady will do to their relationship with their parents."

Natalya fell silent. The woman's own parents had been killed when she was very young in the massacre of her hometown. Phoenix changed the subject.

"How many people did they bring into the palace?"

"The two heralds and the young man – they have twenty guards each and another fifty miscellaneous servants and workers. Some of these I suspect to also be guards, disguised as something they are not."

"I would expect so as well. It must be rather frightening to come into the palace of an unknown people with only a few of your own."

As they rounded a corner, Phoenix spied Regina up ahead, and she waved to the girl. Regina slowed her pace and waited for the princess to catch up. She was fidgeting even more than usual, her gaze flitting from Phoenix and back towards the guards. She kept fixating on Alina, and Phoenix bit back a sigh. She moved so that she blocked the girl's view of the mysterious woman.

"Regina," she greeted her, giving her a small hug and kissing her on the cheeks. "Are you all ready for the feast tonight?"

"I think so," the girl said nervously. "I just wish I had your knack for dealing with people." She suddenly looked even more uncomfortable and looked away when Phoenix met her eye. "I can never think of the right thing to say, and my father expects me to fill in..."

She trailed off. Her mother had been struck down by illness and was currently unable to attend formal events. She had been a social butterfly, floating through crowds with ease. Phoenix understood hers were difficult shoes to fill.

"You'll be fine," she told her friend, "Just remember to be yourself, and everyone will love you."

Regina smiled. "And you?" she asked. "Are you nervous to be sitting right next to the strangers? Who knows what they'll do," she paused again, looking flustered. Her gaze flew all over the place and she began twirling her braid around her fingers. "I mean, not that I think they'll attack you or something, I-" she stopped talking altogether and locked her eyes on the floor a moment. She took a deep breath and looked back up at Phoenix. "I'm sure they won't do anything," she backtracked. "And besides, look at all the guards you have! Who would dare attack you?" She laughed nervously.

"I'm more excited than nervous." Phoenix answered Regina's original question in an attempt to save Regina from the downward spiral she'd started herself on. "I want to know everything about where they're from. Can you imagine how interesting it will be to learn about their homeland and their customs?" She hoped that during the feast she would be able to steal their attention for a bit to sate her curiosity.

Regina nodded indulgently, but didn't comment.

For what seemed like the millionth time in the last few days, Phoenix wished for Wren's friendship. He would be as enthusiastic as her, but she couldn't push a relationship. She hadn't even heard any more about the unicorn he'd seen, he'd so completely avoided her since she'd rejected his affections. Years ago, when they still had time for one another, they had stumbled across writings mentioning a unicorn. For a time they had spent every waking hour searching for additional stories involving the creatures. They eventually discovered that one such creature had possibly marched into the Treymayne council some eighteen years before, which sparked their excitement and sent them into a flurry of interviews.

She and Wren spoke with everyone who had possibly seen it, but most couldn't recall the encounter with any detail. They found it odd that anyone would be able to forget such a unique occurrence, and yet each one of them had. Even the Queen had been reluctant to talk about the incident. They had eventually come up empty-handed and abandoned the subject as other duties became more pressing.

Regina suddenly waved excitedly to another girl, and then turned to Phoenix. "Would you excuse me, Your Majesty?"

Phoenix nodded a dismissal and watched as Regina scurried towards the other girl with unrestrained excitement. No surreptitious glances around them to see if the guards were listening, no worry over the impropriety of girlish behavior. She sighed softly and made her way back to her rooms. No doubt her maids would be in a frenzy at her delay in returning. They had lots to do before releasing her for the feast.

*

Rhys watched from the shadows as Phoenix worked her magic with the guards. Though she was unconscious of doing so, she had an impressive memory and seemed genuinely interested in every person in the kingdom, so always seemed to treat each one like a friend. He watched the guards' reactions carefully. Most were the typical infatuation that she caused – though she was blissfully unaware of their devotion – but there were a few wearing more guarded expressions. One or two of the newest additions looked downright concerned over the Princess's attention. Rhys frowned. The suspicion of the Princess that was caused by the rumors seemed to be spreading.

He retreated from the peephole behind the tapestry and jogged further down the hidden hallway towards where the visitors were staying. He hoped that he would be able to relieve them of some of their wealth-laden garments before the feast tonight. While everyone was running around in preparation, hopefully he'd have a chance to slip in and out undetected.

He stepped over a pile of debris left from past repairs and pressed an ear against the wall, trying to determine if he'd gotten to the end of the outer hallway yet.

"What if they find out about him?" one of the visitors was saying.

Rhys held his breath to listen more carefully, but the two men shifted so that the echo of the conversation was carried in the opposite direction. Rhys maneuvered around in the cramped area but couldn't hear their words again until the first suddenly spoke up.

"Ah, Princess, how lovely to meet you."

Rhys grumbled to himself and abandoned the spot; whatever they had been discussing would be put on hold while the Princess was there and clearly he hadn't made it all the way down the hallway yet. He brushed a cobweb out of the path in front of him and stepped through, a few of the sticky threads finding their way onto his face. He raked his fingers across his cheeks, trying to rid them of the invisible invasion. He bent over to squeeze through a low hole.

Sliding carefully through a section of wall whose previous wooden beam had long since rotted away, he raised himself back up slowly. Listening carefully, he looked around. It was doubtful that the visitors would have found the secret entrance into their chambers. As far as Rhys knew, he was the only one who knew of its existence. He removed another strand of web off his face. Certainly by the prolific evidence of cobwebs it appeared he was the only one who used it. Although he'd been forced to give up several of his secret tunnels after the discovery of strange tombs within them that he had felt honor-bound to report to the Queen, the majority he had managed to keep to himself. At least he thought they were hidden from all others, but he could never really be sure what the Queen knew.

He shook his head to regain his focus. With patience borne from years of practice, he moved with excruciating slowness to the spot where he knew a pressure-plate would remove part of the wall behind the giant painting of the Three that hung in the guest chambers.

Rhys ran his hand along the edge of the stones, listening carefully to the room beyond to make sure that no one was in the inner chamber. There was only silence. When his fingers hit the slightly raised section of rock, he pushed it.

The door swung in, rolling on hidden wheels beneath. Only the scraping against the floor where dust slowed its motion betrayed the action. Still hearing nothing, Rhys pressed his hand against the back of the painting and moved it forward. It shifted about an inch, then stuck. Rhys shoved his fingers through the crack and wrapped them around the painting's frame. He shoved it outwards roughly. It moved another fraction of an inch but then jammed again.

He peered inside through the small crack. The thin sliver of view showed the edge of the bed and a table beside it. At the sight of what the table held, his mouth started watering. One of them had left a coin purse partially open. Inside, he could see the glinting of many jewels.

He pushed harder on the frame, but it wouldn't budge. He slipped a hand through the crack and strained to reach the purse. He figured if he could just grab hold of the edge of it, he would be able to lighten its load.

No matter how hard he shoved his body through the crack, he couldn't fit enough to reach the purse. His fingertips grazed the edge of the fabric tantalizingly, but he came nowhere near enough to get any purchase on it to drag it closer.

A noise startled him into jumping back into the shadows. He hurriedly pulled the stone wall back into place. Luckily, it moved more easily in that direction and it slid closed with a dull thud.

"Did you hear something?" a muffled voice asked on the other side of the wall.

Rhys rushed out of there before their strange power could detect him, cursing himself for not having longer arms. He'd been so close.

Back in Rhys's suite, Jayson told him that he had a visitor waiting in the adjacent room.

"A rather distasteful looking young man," Jayson commented. The man eyed the dust on Rhys's clothes with a raised eyebrow.

"Everyone from the city looks distasteful to you," Rhys fired back.

He ran his fingers through his hair to rid them of cobwebs and took a quick peek in the mirror. After scrubbing off a smudge of dirt that had somehow managed to get onto his cheek, he went into the other room.

A small boy with a fuzzy mustache just beginning to appear under his nose sat nervously on the couch. His eyes darted around the room.

"Ah, Michael," he soothed the boy. "Thank you for coming."

He turned and stared at Jayson expectantly. Jayson stared back at him. Finally, his servant sighed and gave him a small glare, but removed himself from the room. Having such a friendly and informal relationship with Jayson was mostly beneficial, but every once in a while Rhys wished he had someone a bit more respectful. Rhys turned back to the boy and made a special gesture with his hand, a universal signal among thieves, indicating that it wasn't safe to speak plainly. "Have you contacted them?"

The boy's flitting gaze rested on the door that Jayson had exited through a moment before focusing on Rhys's waiting face. "Yes, though it weren't easy." He looked as though he wanted to say more, but his eyes were darting around again.

"I'm sure it wasn't," Rhys agreed, moving forward to surreptitiously hand the boy a gold coin. The boy snatched it up eagerly and ferreted it away into some secret spot in his clothing. A large percentage of Jak's money had been handed over to the boy, either for his services, or for him to use to bribe someone else. Michael's work – and Jak's money – had served to speed along a process that otherwise would have taken Rhys some time to accomplish on his own.

"They are willing to at least hear what you have to say. Several will be wantin' somethin' from you, though. Somethin' to earn their respect." The boy rose from the couch and snaked his head around to peer behind a privacy curtain. He turned back to look Rhys in the eye. "The one whose name you gave me spoke for you, but the rest wanted more."

"What did they want?" Rhys asked warily.

The boy shrugged. "Said they'd be in touch. You should be expectin' three requests. They'll give you the details then."

Apparently having said all he came to say, the boy spirited himself away so quickly that Rhys was impressed. He supposed the adrenaline of having been within the palace walls may have added to his usual prowess. He'd chosen this boy specifically and was now glad that he had. It seemed he had made the right choice; they were willing to listen.

Jayson came back into the room and gave Rhys a withering look. Rhys ignored him.

"Are you ready for the feast tonight?" Jayson finally asked, resigning himself to letting the incident go.

"Am I ever ready to attend court events?"

Jayson's smile returned. Apparently, the thought of being able to torture Rhys with preparations for the feast restored his good mood. "Then we'd better get started," he replied, much too enthusiastically.

*

Wren pushed his way through the woods, scratching himself on prickers and brambles as he shoved by them. They bit into his flesh, causing red welts to appear, but he ignored them. He'd tried to put the whole episode with Phoebe out of his head, but given that he would be forced to share her company this evening, he couldn't help but obsess over it again. He wasn't sure how he was going to face her.

He tumbled down the hill to where he had seen the unicorn, twisting an ankle in the process, and looked around. The woods were quiet save for the stream bubbling past, tinkling its way happily downstream. Wren scowled at it. Kicking a rock into the stream, he started walking along it aimlessly. Maybe if he got lost and couldn't make it back in time he'd have to miss the feast altogether.

A strange sound began softly, barely heard above the running water but it grew louder as he walked downstream. Its tone harmonized perfectly with the sounds of the forest, creating a melody of nature-inspired beauty. Wren crept silently forward towards the sound, his sadness forgotten in his anticipation. It could be the unicorn.

Moving through the brush as quietly as he was able, he snuck down a waterfall of rocks, trying to get a view of the pool below where the sound was coming from. A glint of bright light flashed at him, momentarily blinding him, and he bit back a triumphant yell. This time he was going to get it!

He burst out from the bushes, leaping towards where he had seen the light. He shouted at the top of his lungs, hoping to startle the beast into frozen fright.

A shrill scream stopped him short, and he blinked in surprise. Before him stood the most gorgeous woman he had ever encountered, her long hair flung out around her head, framing her perfect face. As his eyes drifted downwards, past the delicate point of her chin, to her fragile collarbones, he gulped. She was completely naked.

He hastily turned around. "A thousand apologies, My Lady. I did not see you there." He peeked over his shoulder to see if she had covered herself, but she was just standing there with her hands on her hips, staring at him with a stern look on her face in all her naked glory.

"So why then, pray tell, did you burst forth from the bushes screaming like a madman?"

Wren put his back to her once more, tearing his eyes away from the entrancing view. "I thought you were a unicorn," he answered truthfully.

She surprised him by laughing. The tinkling laughter should have made his face burn with embarrassment that she was laughing at him. Yet somehow she did it in such a way that made it seem like the situation was what was funny and not his mistake. He laughed with her, shaking his head ruefully.

"What reaction did you expect to get from a unicorn by bursting out of the woods in such a manner?"

He tilted his head in thought. "I guess I wasn't really thinking about it at all. It got away last time, and things have just been so frustrating..." he trailed off, not really wanting to talk about his troubles with Phoenix with this beautiful creature.

"It is always difficult when something you desire gets away. Sometimes, it is for the best. If it had been a unicorn instead of me, we would not be having this delightful conversation, now would we?"

"I beg your pardon, My Lady, but it would be much easier to converse with you if you would let me fetch you your garments, and I could turn around and meet your eyes like a gentleman."

"No need," the woman said, appearing next to him wearing a magnificent gown. Despite his polite sentiment, he was rather disappointed she was now so covered. She melted to the ground gracefully, her skirts billowing out around her like a blooming flower, and she patted the grass next to her. "Come, sit with me and talk a while. I don't get a lot of company."

"Why not?" Wren asked, complying with her request and gingerly setting himself onto the damp grass, as close as propriety would allow.

"Mostly I choose to have it that way," she admitted. "I find that the majority of people irritate me. I spend most of my time alone, which is why I was so inappropriately attired when you stumbled upon me. I did not expect to come across another soul anywhere near here." She paused, giving him an appraising look. "I like you, though."

Wren felt his face flushing. "You like it when men jump out of the woods screaming at you?"

She smiled gamely. "It's different. Different is interesting. Tell me, what is it that you do when you're not scaring maidens in the woods?"

"I fear I may bore you with my mundane lifestyle. I am but a scholar. I researched the time when the gods walked among us and am currently working on a legend that I stumbled across about a unicorn."

"That's not boring at all!" the woman exclaimed. "Please, tell me more."

"Alright," Wren agreed, surprising himself with his eagerness to share the knowledge with her. "I came across a passage in a history from during Queen Layna's rise to power that piqued my interest. It indicated that one of the last Words from the gods passed down along the river was that a nightmare would come bearing wisdom. Apparently the Council all believed it to be an actual dream, and all took sleeping aids to try and be the one to receive it. Then in strolled a black female horse; a night mare. There are differing records of this creature, some claimed that it was really a mage transformed into a horse, but some accounts mentioned a single horn as though it were a unicorn. Though unicorns haven't been around for hundreds of years – or so we thought – most people accept that they once did exist and had magic and intelligence." He paused to gauge her reaction, but she was still staring at him with rapt attention. It was a bit unnerving. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, there were other stories referring to a unicorn that I believe to be referring to the same creature, though these are from times even farther back so I can't be sure. It may be more than one. It has been very difficult to verify any of the claims. Even though the most recent stories are only from eighteen years ago and many of the people mentioned in the stories are still alive, none were able to prove or disprove the claims. I believe that the unicorn is real, however, and have made it my mission to find the creature. Just the other day, I caught a glimpse of it, but it got away."

"That's fascinating!" the woman exclaimed. "If unicorns really did exist at one time, what happened to them?"

"Unfortunately, I couldn't find any more information about the subject in the old books, so I'm not sure. Any records must have been destroyed during the book burnings after the Dark King." His face darkened at the thought of the all knowledge that had been destroyed. "Not a lot survived."

"I suppose not. Pity, though. I wish I could see a unicorn!"

Her eagerness to discuss the topic with him fueled his own zeal, and he found himself immediately liking this woman.

"They are pretty amazing. There have been sightings of unicorns all over and from many different time periods. From all accounts, they appear to be an extremely gifted animal – there are even some indications of human-like intelligence. I am trying to determine if the species isn't actually extinct as we once believed and there are more of them than we think, or if this one unicorn is the last of its kind."

"Is that possible for one creature to have lived so long?"

"Absolutely. There are certainly many documented instances of even strong human mages in the old days that retained their youth and lived long past their natural lifespan. I believe – though I cannot say for sure – that unicorns were known for having an unusually long lifespan. For a while, I wondered if it was only a myth, but now...I have seen it with my own eyes."

"What will you do when you find it?" the woman asked, then smiled impishly. "Besides jumping out and scaring the poor creature half to death."

Wren laughed. "I don't honestly know. I've been looking for it for so long, I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"Have you considered that perhaps it doesn't want to be found? If it truly is the last of its kind it probably survived by staying hidden."

Wren thought about this for a moment. "I suppose. But I find it difficult to let such an interesting piece of history go un-researched."

The woman smiled "As would I. I will have to keep a look out for it now that I know it is in these woods."

"What exactly are you doing out here in the woods?"

"I often come out here to enjoy the beauty of nature and to take advantage of the natural swimming pool." She gestured elegantly to the river. "I find this spot to be very relaxing and it's very near my home so I frequent it regularly."

"But no one accompanies you?" Wren pressed, unable to believe that anyone would leave such a magnificent woman to wander the woods by herself.

"I grew up with brothers," the woman said as if this explained everything, "I know how to take care of myself.

Her tone left no room for argument and Wren certainly didn't feel that it was his place to say otherwise. Although he would have felt better if she would at least take him up on an offer to walk her home. She refused, however, saying that she made the trek almost every day and would be just fine.

They chatted for the remainder of the day, mostly about Wren's research, though touching on many other subjects. Though the conversation was hours long, Wren was interested the entire time – though it helped that his companion was so easy on the eyes. Eventually evening rolled around and Wren could put off his return to the palace no longer. "I'm so sorry," he said regretfully, "but I have to go."

The lady nodded and rose. "Well, it was truly a pleasure to have run into you, sir." She turned and started walking off.

"You're sure I can't walk you home?"

"I'm sure."

"May I see you tomorrow?" he called after her retreating form.

She only paused to smile over her shoulder at him before disappearing into the woods.
CHAPTER 4

Phoenix waited behind the velvet curtain to be announced into the feast. The strangers and their entourage were already seated, and were being introduced to every courtier in the city. Everyone wanted an invitation to tonight's event.

Finally, her name was called, and she swept the curtain aside to find her seat at the table. She would be placed on her mother's right as heir and next to one of the visitors. Herald Siajan was directly next to her, and he nodded genially as she sat.

Once everyone had finally been announced and seated, the feast began. The many doors that led to the kitchen area opened and servants swarmed in carrying steaming dishes of meats and breads. Delicious aromas permeated the room, and Phoenix's mouth began to water. Questions that she had for the visitors were put on hold as she piled her plate with the meal, pausing to explain what a dish was every now and then to the strangers.

When everyone had food in front of them, Queen Layna began the conversation.

"How long of a voyage was it to get here?" She directed the question towards the two heralds.

Herald Siajan was the one who answered. "We did not come directly here, not knowing that your country existed." He looked thoughtful for a few moments. "Mayhap two weeks had it been direct?" He looked to Kedum for acknowledgement and the other man nodded.

"A wonder that we have not encountered one another before," Phoenix's mother responded.

"As you probably have noticed," Herald Kedum said, "the storms over the sea have been lessening in recent years, allowing us to explore farther."

Her mother did not comment. She was not as interested in the sea and boating as was her husband, King Gryffon. He spoke up, "There have been changes to the weather systems all around here. We've been contemplating that it may have something to do with the taming of the wild magics to our north."

"Wild magics?" Siajan asked, his voice tightening.

"Indeed, the power all around us has been tamed into the natural rivers it now runs in. But in the north, it is chaotic, following random patterns and making it difficult to control."

"Do you still touch the power here?" Herald Siajan asked. His face suddenly went pale, and he gripped his goblet so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"We do," her mother replied, looking as curious at his reaction as Phoenix felt. Seeing as how the man looked terrified, she did not think that pressing him further on this subject would lead to productive results. She cut off her mother's next question by asking about the weather of his homeland. He grasped the subject with ferocity, telling her with extreme excitement the exact temperatures for hours during the day. Her mother gave her a slight nod, indicating that she understood that more information would have to wait. Phoenix was gratified by her mother's trust in her instincts. Once Herald Siajan had regained his relaxation, she ventured another question about the magic in their lands.

"Pardon my boldness," Phoenix implored, "but I can't help but notice all the various bottles and vials that adorn your clothing and your person. May I inquire as to their purpose? Or are they simply ornamental?"

Though her mother kept up her conversation with the courtier she was currently engaged with, Phoenix could feel her attention suddenly shift to the stranger next to her.

"No need for an apology." He waved a hand in the air. "That is why we are here: to learn about one another." He moved aside his cloak to show her the array of bottles along his belt. "These are all potions. The Alchemist makes them and Her Royal Excellency distributes them. Any citizen may also go directly to the Alchemist to make a request for a particular potion, but he always requires a task in return to prove that the person is in need and worthy of what they are asking. Otherwise he'd be up to his ears in requests. The Exalted One ensures that all citizens have enough so that there is no longer any threat of plagues or diseases. No one is hungry as potions are distributed to ensure healthy crops, and we are all protected by Her Excellency's Favor."

"That sounds amazing," Phoenix said.

Her mother had ended her other conversation and was now totally focused on this one.

"Do you prefer potions over reaching for the power?" Queen Layna asked.

The man looked disturbed again, but he quickly covered the emotion. The previous question and respite from it in between seemed to have prepared him to answer. "Oh," he exclaimed, "we don't dare touch the power. Only Her Favor protects us from the consequences of being born with the ability to do so and from others who can. Potions are the only safe way to use magic in our land." He fingered a chain around his neck.

"I see," Phoenix replied, though she didn't really see at all.

She made a mental note to discuss the subject with her mother in private later. She didn't understand the intricacies of using the power to understand the difference between what her mother did and what this man was describing.

Herald Kedum cut into the conversation. "Do you have many people here who are able to 'touch the power', as you say?"

"A fair number," King Gryffon answered, "though we have less now than in ancient times."

"Why is that?"

Her father answered this question with one of his own. "Do you worship the Three or the dragons in your land?"

"Worship the dragons? No. We have histories of them bringing us here, and living with us for a time. But they have not been around for many generations. I have never before heard reference to this 'Three'. Why do you ask?"

"Well, one of the dragons, Nuko, was punished by the others and forced to stay here imprisoned. Unfortunately, he was not as confined as his peers believed. Twice he manipulated the minds of men in our history. Because of his influence, we lost many who would have otherwise added to our numbers."

Phoenix watched their reactions. She was rather surprised that her father had given them so much information so soon, but this admission only served to put them more at ease. When tensions were running high between Gelendan and Treymayne before her mother reunited them, talk of which side yielded more magical power was a topic of a great deal of heated conversation. Since the Empire was clearly wielded magic strong enough to communicate and transport people over distances, she doubted that they were overly concerned about Elaeld taking over the Empire. Phoenix would have at least expected the admission of weakened power to elicit a competitive response, however, but their only emotion seemed to be relief. The thought of people touching the power genuinely seemed to concern them.

"And the Three?" Siajan asked.

"Three of the dragons – Cliodhna, Kai, and Naoise – were chosen to leave behind their essences in the form of Kiani Stones. Through these they were able to leave behind enough of themselves to keep guiding us even when they departed our world." Queen Layna spoke of them as though they were old friends. Phoenix understood that for a time their essences had actually been transferred into her head. "We forgot for a time that they were really beings that once walked among us, so they were considered gods – the Three. Even now, many still consider them to be so."

"Interesting," Herald Kedum nodded thoughtfully.

Siajan wore a curious expression. Their attention was torn in another direction, and Phoenix was forced to speak with another lady at the far end of the table. She caught snippets of the conversation with the strangers though she tried hard not to appear rude to the woman with whom she was speaking. One of the royal mages was currently explaining the use of magic to a horrified Siajan. She saw Kedum give his companion a stern look, and Siajan squared his jaw and nodded impassively to the mage's information. As they spoke, Siajan appeared to gradually become more comfortable speaking about the mage's role in the kingdom.

"How can you put so much wealth into decorating your ships? Don't they fall off?" a noble nearby rose his voice to inquire. His words slurred slightly and Phoenix winced at the rudeness of his inquiry. He had clearly had one too many glasses of wine already.

Siajan smiled, luckily only looking relived at having been pulled away from the conversation with the mage. "As I mentioned, the empire flourishes. We are able to display some of this on Her Excellency's ships. Also, many of the stones I have come to realize you hold in great value are not such to us."

"How do you mean?" Phoenix asked.

Siajan explained indulgently. "I have just been made aware that several of those we simply think of as pretty are used by your – mages – " he said the word hesitantly, "to help harness and store the – the power." He stumbled over his words, obviously still a bit upset by the casual use of magic. He glanced at the mage with whom he'd been speaking and the mage nodded encouragingly at him. "Therefore, while they are valuable to us for their looks, they are not necessarily otherwise useful to us and none used as decoration are particularly rare."

"Really," the mage said greedily.

Herald Kedum spoke up. "Perhaps this could open up the possibility of trade."

Queen Layna looked very interested in this prospect. "I am curious what we could possibly offer you when your land is so prosperous on its own," she said, with genuine curiosity and no hint of anything malicious.

Herald Kedum still looked slightly put-out despite her lack of intended disrespect, but luckily, Siajan answered for him. "I am sure that your wonderful country has much to offer, Your Highness. Why, just the knowledge of these Three you speak of is sure to incite much interest."

As the food dwindled on people's plates, Phoenix's mother and father rose to make the proper welcome speeches, and the time for talk disappeared. Phoenix listened politely and clapped along with the other people while her parents spoke. When they had finished, the two heralds rose to thank them for their kind words. Siajan motioned for one of their servants to come forward, and the young man presented an elaborately decorated box to the King and Queen.

"Please accept these tokens of friendship from Her Excellency on behalf of the entire Empire of Tyekath. She had them custom-designed in the empire and used a specially-commissioned potion to send them here for this welcome feast."

The King and Queen looked at each other and the Queen reached a hand out to open the box. Siajan's awed tone made it clear that the Empress had gone to great lengths to get the gifts to them. Silence spread over the room in anticipation as the Queen lifted the lid. She admired the contents for a moment, an eyebrow raised. Then she picked something up and handed it to King Gryffon and reached in again to pick up another for herself. They held out their gifts for the waiting people to see. Siajan beamed as gasps rang out through the crowd. The King's was a jewel-encrusted cloak pin, set with the green eye that seemed to be a symbol of the empire. The Queen held out a similarly impressive ring, once again featuring a center stone of the green eye.

"The Empress wishes to bestow upon you Her Favor," Herald Siajan told them, urging them to put on their new gifts. Their Majesties did so, and stood proudly before the room as all those below them burst into cheers.

*

Rhys watched the visitors like a hawk, waiting for an opportunity. None came, however, and he was forced to simply enjoy the feast as best he could. From what he heard of the herald's homeland, there was more wealth where that which adorned their clothing had come from. They were not in the least bit shy about singing the praises of their empire or the Empress.

They spoke of her with awe, like a young boy might speak of a favorite instructor. Both were situations of a crush that one cannot even hope to comprehend because of the differences in status. If what they told was to be believed, their empire had nothing of disease or famine because of a mysterious Alchemist. This would explain the odd bottles. Their magic was not used by manipulating the pure power around them but rather only by utilizing the potions. Unlike charmed objects which required at least a small amount of talent to activate, the potions required no additional magic from the user, nor were they obviously magical themselves. It was as though the potions themselves became intrinsically magical rather than simply holding and channeling magic as a charm would.

Some plants and animals here in Elaeld had evolved to this state, especially in the chaotic lands to the north. Rhys supposed that it would be dangerous for an animal to be directly connected to the channels of power in the untamed lands. At any point it would be possible for one to experience a surge or sudden draw that could wreck havoc on their bodies or minds. He surmised that the potions were like these creatures. Unfortunately, not much research had yet been done to understand them so this realization didn't help much.

Rhys was sure that Layna, Phoenix, and many of the mages and scholars of the court would be chomping at the bit to learn more about this Alchemist and his practices. Rhys wondered why it was only the Alchemist who made the potions. He tried to come up with some possible reasons: Was he the only one capable? The only one allowed? Or the only one who happened to possess some secret? If this last possibility was the case, if Rhys could get his hands on that secret it could be profitable beyond his wildest dreams by selling it to the highest bidder. Then, there would be no doubt that he could accomplish his aim.

When the feast finally died down, Rhys could hardly wait to be out of his constricting clothing. He slipped back out of his rooms before Jayson had a chance to detain him, and he slinked through the gardens towards the west wing. The moon was nearing its fullest, but the night was cloudy, making it difficult to see. This was all the better for him to fade into the shadows.

He reached the wall that led up to the rooms on the west wing and took a moment to get his bearings. Regardless of how many times he studied the plans for the palace, it still took a moment to reorient when looking at it from the outside. He counted the windows, searching for those with telltale signs of which room they were. The Countess Esmeralda insisted on white daisies on her windowsill. There was a broken pane in one, a small board nailed over it, from when the twins of Dyanasta, or the twins of Disaster as they were more commonly called, had come to pay a visit with their mother.

Once he was certain that the window he was beneath was the one that opened up over the desk in the rooms of the strangers, he glanced around once again to make certain he was alone. The guards would be passing this way again soon, but he had another five minutes before they rounded the bend. He had thought about mentioning the predictability of their movements to the Queen, but seeing as how he had numerous times taken advantage of this fact, he had so far kept his mouth shut.

He exhaled in a short burst and began scaling the wall. He found handholds out of crevices and knobs on the stones and heaved himself up the face. As he reached the window, he balanced himself with one hand so he could reach out and open the window.

To his surprise, he found that it was locked. Windows this high were never locked. Rhys grumbled to himself and shifted his weight while he dug one-handed into his pocket for his lock picking tools. He had just wrapped a hand around them when suddenly a light burst on in the room beyond.

This startled him so badly that he completely lost his handhold, and he teetered outwards. He windmilled his arms in a desperate attempt to regain his balance but to no avail. He went over backwards in free-fall towards the ground many feet below. Luckily, he landed with a soft thump on a bush which, while not completely comfortable, did cushion the blow. Still, he felt his healing charm come to life and a warming sensation in his arm where moments before had been a sharp pain as it collided with something solid. He sent a silent thanks to Jayson for having insisted he start wearing it again.

Cursing softly, he picked his way out of the bush and hastily looked around. Torchlight was flickering just around the bend. He had to get out of here – fast. But before he could make his move, someone grabbed him from behind and dragged him behind the cover of a large tree mere seconds before the torchlight rounded the corner and lit up the area where he had just been.

Several branches from the bush were laying haphazardly on the ground, and the shrub itself looking rather worse for wear. The light moved quickly over it, the bearer seemingly oblivious to anything out of place. The hand which had been clamped over his mouth was removed.

He whirled around to face his assailant. Or savior. He wasn't sure which yet. He was surprised that he didn't recognize the young woman at all.

"That was not overly impressive," the woman commented scathingly. "I've half a mind not to bother with you, bollocks to the consequences."

Rhys was about to respond with a rude comment when it hit him why she was here. "I assure you," he said instead, "that was not my finest work."

The girl snorted. "You'd better hope not." After a moment of staring at him disapprovingly she said, "A friend of yours bade us hear you out about some nonsense. The Mother has seen fit to assign me the task of evaluating your worthiness before you will be allowed to meet with her." She smiled, pointed canines gleaming in the moonlight. "I have a feeling my association with you will be over quickly."

Rhys bit back a rude response. "How do I know you are who you say you are?" From her mention of The Mother, Rhys conjectured that she was the representative from the Shadow Sisters. Therefore, her presence must mean that he was about to hear the first of the three requests Michael had said to expect.

The woman smiled again. "Michael sent me." She held out a small object which Rhys had given to the boy for precisely this purpose.

He nodded shortly.

She looked around to make sure the guard wasn't returning. "Have you heard about Lord Caverson?"

Rhys contemplated the question. As an attendee – however unwillingly – at so many court events, he was sure to have heard of the man. He seemed to vaguely remember his face, but could recall nothing interesting about him. Nothing worth stealing – or so he'd thought.

He nodded. "I know of him."

"Good. He's been putting together a sort of menagerie of animals, and The Mother doesn't like it too much. Thinks they're being mistreated. Has sort-of a soft spot."

Rhys wasn't sure how to respond, so he said nothing. From the smirking look she gave him and the tone of the woman's voice, he doubted that The Mother's supposed concern over the animals' welfare was not the true intention of this job. More than likely she would simply turn around and sell the animals to the highest bidder as soon as Rhys 'saved' them.

"Your job is to get in there and release the animals."

She handed him a small stone. It glowed faintly and tingled as he touched it. It was obviously charmed in some way. The woman explained, "When you touch this to one of the creatures it will open a momentary gate, transporting them to a predetermined area. You don't need to worry about where. Just make sure that you touch all the animals with it." She turned away, but then paused and looked back. "I almost forgot," she added with a smile. "The Mother wants the snake personally. Don't touch it with the stone but rather take it with you to bring directly to her."

"How will I know where to bring it?" he asked her retreating form.

She didn't even glance back. "We'll find you," said a voice in the shadows as she disappeared.

Rhys gave one last longing look up at the window before the torchlight flickered into view once more. Abandoning his previous plans, he slipped out of the gardens. Taking a shortcut through the courtyard, he exited out the front gates of the palace. The guards hardly gave him a second glance; they were quite used to him coming and going at all hours of the day.

He weaved around the city and into The Bottomless Mug. Plopping himself down in the corner booth, he slid a few coins across the table to the patron sitting there. The roguish man looked at him through one eye, the other scabbed over and long-gone. The days-old stubble on his chin was catching stray pieces of food. A hand slithered out from beneath the table and grabbed the coins. He brought one to his mouth and licked it before giving it a firm bite. Rhys tried not to gag at the sight of the man's teeth. _Perhaps he'll use the money for a bath_ , he thought hopefully.

"Another round over here," the yellow-toothed scoundrel yelled to the barmaid, holding up the newly acquired coins.

_Or not_. Out loud Rhys asked, "Don't you want to know what they'll cost you before you go spending it?"

"Thought you were giving me a gift there, laddy. Should make yer deals befer handin' over monies."

He waggled his fingers at the barmaid, urging her to hurry. She refilled his empty mug and took one of the coins, dropping it into her ample cleavage. Rhys spared a thought to wonder if she had a coin purse hidden in there somewhere or if her bosom just swallowed it up.

"I need to know about Lord Caverson and the interesting hobby he's taken up."

"You mean his beasties," the rogue said knowingly.

For a man who never seemed to leave the tavern, he was full of useful information. Then again, information was his trade. Bought and sold here at this very table. The man took a long swig of the drink. The foam clung to his upper lip like a mustache, and dripped off his face as he spoke. "Aye, he's got five little beasties now. Keeps them in the old dungeon beneath his manor. Nots a very nice place for animals if ya ask me."

"Do you know how to get in? How many guards does he employ?"

"So many questions..." the man answered, looking to his already empty mug.

Rhys gritted his teeth and slid another coin towards him. This one, the man spirited away. "I'll tell you the same thing I told the little lady."

Rhys jumped in. "Someone else asked about him?"

The man simply raised his eyebrow at him and eyed his drink again. Obviously, if he wanted to know who else was interested, he'd have to pay. Rhys clamped his mouth shut to let the informant continue. If someone else was asking questions, it may be part of his test. It would be just like them to set him up against another thief.

"There ain't no way to get into the Caverson manor. He's got personal mages on his payroll and his manor locked up tight. Gots wards and locks alike on all entrances, practically an entire army as a personal guard, and more than one setta eyes on everywhere 'round there. Ya ask me, there's more than just the beasties in there."

"So how do I get in?"

"I just told you. You don't."

Rhys made an exasperated sound. "What did I just pay you for?"

"Good advice," the man responded then reiterated that advice, "Don't even try."

Rhys's eyes narrowed. "You owe me." Giving him a hard look, Rhys dared the other man to argue. The man stared back a moment and then relented.

"Talk to Laris. You'll find him in the Tap Room."

He turned purposefully away from Rhys, and started humming to himself.

Rhys sighed. The Tap Room was at the other end of the city. He swung his leg over the stool and shoved it roughly towards the table in frustration. Weaving his way out of the now-full room, he breathed in the fresh air outside. _Fresh-er air at least_ , he thought sourly. The streets just outside taverns tended to have a rather pungent odor. One bathroom in places like these was never enough.

When he finally got to the Tap Room, a brawl was taking up the common room. Rhys ducked in and out of the fighting bodies, asking people here and there if they knew where Laris was. Finally, a man pointed towards the back before taking a punch directly to his nose. Blood spurted out, and Rhys hastily removed himself from the scene.

In the back of the tavern, the private tables offered a chance for people to escape the rowdy nature of the common room as well as perform business transactions. One such transaction was currently underway as a man discretely handed a scantily clad woman a gold coin. She grinned at him and pulled him up the stairs. Rhys hoped that the man wasn't Laris. He didn't want to wait around for the man to finish his "business".

He pulled a waitress aside and asked if she knew who Laris was. Not even bothering to give him a smile, she nodded her head to a table to the right. Luckily, the young man appeared to be alone. Rhys slid into the booth opposite him.

"Not interested," the man said without even looking up.

"Are you Laris?"

His blue eyes met Rhys's warily. "Who wants to know?"

"A Little Rat told me that you might have information about Lord Caverson's new...hobby." The roguish man Rhys had met in The Bottomless Mug thought his business name was quite clever – a variation on the old 'a little bird told me' saying. Rhys hated using it, but it did serve its purpose; people knew who he was talking about.

Laris looked him over. Then he scoffed and went back to staring at the table. "Quite a hobby, torturing innocent creatures like that. Just got sacked for sayin' so."

"You worked for Lord Caverson?"

"Until recently. Now, I'm a free man. Know anyone who's looking for a good mercenary?" He held up his mug in mock-celebration.

Rhys shook his head. "What would you say if I told you that I know of someone who might be looking to free those creatures?" Rhys asked.

He eyed the back door, ready to leap to action should his comment cause an unfavorable reaction. Laris's eyes flew back to his own in surprise. Their ice-blue hue seemed unnatural. After a moment, Laris spoke.

"I would say that that someone should know that there is a passage that runs from the dungeons where they are kept into the sewers. I would say that if someone were to go into the sewers on Canal Street and follow them northward until they hit the eighth one on the right, that if they took this passage and followed it to the end, they would find a strange contraption on the wall. If they were to put the correct key into this contraption, they would end up directly beneath the unholy menagerie."

"Where would someone get a key like that?"

Laris smiled humorlessly. "You just have to be the one mucking out the poor creature's pens." He reached into his cloak and withdrew a key. Rhys opened his eyes wide.

"They let you keep the key after you left?"

Laris fidgeted. "Not exactly. I was hoping to free the creatures myself, but I have no means of getting them anywhere. I was planning on moving them through the sewers to safety, but the more I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed." He held the key out towards Rhys. "Take it. Perhaps you'll have more luck than I."

Rhys put a coin under his hand and slid his hand towards the man. Laris watched him, then shook his head. "Keep it," he said as he rose.

Without another word, Laris went out into the common room, where it appeared that the brawl had been broken up. The barmaid was sweeping up broken pots and mugs, muttering to herself.

Rhys waited until the door had shut before getting up himself and sneaking out the back way. Canal Street was a mere two blocks from here, and there was still plenty of night left. He may as well at least check the place out. But first, he made a quick stop at one of his drop points throughout the city. He had a few items stashed away here and there for situations such as these, and he grabbed one before making his way to Canal Street.

Finding the entrance to the sewers was easy. Rhys lowered himself in, trying not to touch the slippery walls. For once he was grateful for the copious amount of perfume that Jayson had insisted he wear for the feast as it now helped to drown out the smell of filth.

He immediately headed north, counting the passages on his right until he came to the eighth one. Even had he not been told to watch for this particular one, it still would have caught his eye. There was something different about it. It had a slightly acrid smell, more so than the rest, and it was strangely lit up by a sort of luminescent slime along the edges.

Rhys moved up the passage cautiously, trying to avoid getting any of the glowing slime on himself. About halfway up, he began to hear grunting and snorting, the sounds of shuffling feet, and every now and again an inhuman moan. This must be it. The smell of it burned in his nostrils. He couldn't help but agree with Laris that this was cruel, even without seeing the animals yet.

At the end of the tunnel, he came across a door. Had Laris not told him about it, he would have assumed that this was simply the end of the passage. As it was, he searched around in the dim light to find the contraption into which to insert the key. Finally, he found it; a strange wheel with many arms extending towards the edges of the door. He placed the key into the hole and turned. One by one, the arms on the wheels hissed and popped as they separated themselves from the metal of the door. When all had come loose, the door swung inward.

He crept forward and craned his neck around to see above him. It appeared that the connection of the sewers to the prison cells above had been modified to accommodate the animals. Normally beneath a dungeon there was an extra channel of stonework so that prisoners could not crawl out through the grates and escape through the sewers. Apparently, the lord was not concerned that the animals would escape this way and had simply smashed out the no longer necessary stonework. Therefore, it was now only the metal grates that separated Rhys from the menagerie above.

Something large moved above and a hundred tiny pebbles clattered to the ground below, some splashing noisily into the water around Rhys. Eyeing the sagging flooring above him, he had to wonder if the stonework's removal been a smart choice. He understood the convenience of letting the waste simply ooze through the grates rather than worry about it clogging an extra channel of stonework, but that same stonework had also added support. No doubt given enough time, this floor would completely give way to the sewers below.

Rhys shook his head and rummaged around in the bag he'd retrieved until he found his grappling hook. He also fished out a bag of tools and tied this onto his belt before securing the hook to a length of rope and throwing it up towards one of the grates. It only took him two tries to get it wound around snugly enough that he felt safe ascending. Once he was at the top, he secured his belt – which doubled as a harness in times like these – to a piece of metal showing within the stone. Then he peered up through the grate.

The pen above was too dark to see much of anything, but he could just make out a shape huddled in a corner. It was only about the size of a dog, and he could detect no sounds coming from it. He hung suspended for a long moment, contemplating his choices. He realized now that he had no idea what types of animals the man had captured save for some kind of snake. He wondered if perhaps it would be prudent to gather a little more information and come back.

The thought of wading through the sewers for a second time urged him on. He took out his tools. Slowly and methodically, he loosened the grate from the floor. After what seemed like hours, he finally pried it free enough to make it budge. He gently pounded on this a few more minutes and finally got it all the way off. Before sliding it sideways and completely exposing himself to the creature above, however, he took another look around.

The shape was still in the same corner, but now Rhys could see the reflections of two eyes watching him intently. It still made no sound, and no move towards him which gave Rhys confidence. He pulled the stone the woman had given him from his pocket and held it firmly. Carefully, he slid the grate aside and pulled himself up, never taking his eyes off the cornered beast.

Still, it didn't move. He crouched to replace the grate and took a tiny step towards the creature. A low growl emitted from deep in the creature's throat. Rhys had a moment of panic and cursed himself. _What the hell am I doing here, anyway? This is hardly thieves' work – I'm not some animal trainer!_ The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he drew one of his daggers as well. He held both the weapon and the stone out in front of him.

Rhys contemplated using magic against the creature as he had planned on doing with the snake. He tentatively touched the power and probed the beast. He immediately withdrew. The animal was a swirling whirlwind of fear and anger. Rhys's spells would not be strong enough to contain nor subdue it.

The growling continued, but the creature still made no move. Rhys pondered his own course of action having ruled out the use of magic. He could leap at the beast, hoping to touch it to the stone, and hoping that the stone's magic worked fast enough to take it away before it had a chance to bite him. Or he could try to sneak up to it. He glanced quickly to the door and examined the locking mechanism. It was a fairly simple one; he could have it unlocked in no time. The hairs on his arms were beginning to stand on end as the monotonous growl continued to echo eerily in the chamber. Perhaps he should get out of the pen and then lure it to the side where he could touch it with the stone without putting himself in danger.

He moved to the door and suddenly the creature lunged. Rhys jumped to the side, avoiding the creature's snapping jaws. As it came into the dim light from the hallway, he could see it more clearly. It was a bear. A young one, granted, but Rhys's heart leapt into his throat. He was stuck in a tiny cell of a pen with a bear. As it lashed out towards him again with claws the length of his pinky, he remembered the stone. Carefully timing it so that it was after the swipe of the dangerous paw, and out of reach of the mouthful of sharp teeth, he steeled his courage and touched the stone out to it.

There was a sudden bright light. As Rhys's eyes readjusted to the dark, he found that the bear was gone. He let out a sigh of relief and collapsed onto the floor. He berated himself for letting his distaste for wading through the sewers override his better judgment. Next time he would listen to himself when he thought perhaps he'd better learn all the information before going on a job. Next time he'd go back through the filth to find out whether or not the cell he was breaking into contained a bear.

Once the adrenaline had subsided, he pulled himself to his feet. Picking the cell lock was short work, and he was gratified to see that there were no guards stationed this far into the dungeons. He crept to the next cell. This one held a large cat that he was unfamiliar with – a very large cat. Given the comparison, he was actually glad that he'd come up into the cell with the bear. It was pacing back and forth along the short length of its cell, its long tail swishing from side to side angrily.

He stationed himself just outside of reach from one of the paws should the beast choose to make a go at him and waited. The cat paused in its pacing to watch him for a moment, eyeing his movements warily.

Rhys was patient, and soon the cat grew bored and resumed its pacing. Timing it perfectly, he moved forward just as the tail was swishing his way. He just barely caught the tip of it with the stone and again the bright light flashed and the beast was gone.

He repeated this two more times, once with a beautiful white stag he had been sorry to see go, and another with a strange-looking bird he couldn't identify. At last, he came to the snake cage. This one had glass placed behind the bars so that the creature couldn't slither off. Rhys looked at it carefully. It was much calmer than the other animals and he thought he'd be able to make a spell work on it. He tucked the stone away in his pocket and looked around for something that he might transport the beast in. Even if he used magic to subdue it he wanted it secured for traveling lest something go wrong and have it wake.

He found an almost-empty burlap bag and dumped the rest of the contents unceremoniously onto the floor. Going back over to the snake's pen, he whispered a spell that he hoped would put it into a deep sleep. Seeing as how the creature hadn't been moving before the spell, nothing happened. The snake continued to lie still on the far side of the pen. Rhys unlocked the door and moved cautiously towards it. He knew nothing about snakes and had no idea if this one was poisonous or not.

He sidestepped up to it, watching carefully for signs of movement. Even when he was right up next to it, it didn't move. It was a dark emerald green, with golden diamonds down its back. Here and there in the pen were small puddles of the glowing green slime he'd seen in the sewers. This must be where it had come from. He nudged the snake with his foot. It still didn't budge. Satisfied that it was under his magical influence, he bent down and picked it up. It was hard to tell just how long it was when it was spiraled on the ground, but when he picked it up he found that it was about an arm-length long and was as thick as his forefinger. Rhys placed its tail within the sack and wound the rest of its body in after it.

Giving the dungeons another once-over, Rhys moved back to the cell which had previously held the bear. He grabbed the dangling rope from beneath the grate he had removed and clipped it back onto his belt. He lowered himself along it to the ground below and tugged at the hook to loosen the hook. He'd rigged it with a magical trigger – which cost him a pretty penny – so that he could release it from below. But this time, it didn't move. It was stuck. Cursing, he tugged at it again. Still, it remained firmly in place though a few pebbles came loose. Rhys let out a short breath and glared up at the thing. He squared his shoulders and yanked as hard as he could, putting his whole weight behind it. More stones came tumbling down, and a moment later, so did the grappling hook.

He tucked this away and turned on his heel to get out of the disgusting sewers as quickly as possible. Rhys thought he saw a shadow move, but was distracted as his foot splashed in a particularly wet area and he wrinkled his nose. He'd hardly made it past the corner into the main tunnel when he heard a resounding crash behind him. He peered around the corner and saw dust and dirty water being kicked up. He jumped backwards to avoid the wave of sewage rushing towards him. Rhys sprinted towards the exit. He must have weakened the floor enough that the whole thing gave way!

Scrambling out of the sewers and into the deserted streets, he saw that the very first rays of early morning light were beginning to show. He raced back to the palace and into his rooms. Jayson, always the early riser, was already bustling around. When he caught sight of Rhys, he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"What in the world have you been doing?" he asked, but then held up his hand, "Never mind. I really don't want to know. I'll draw you up a bath."

Rhys was grateful, as the drudge of the sewers was beginning to dry and cake onto him. It disturbed him that he was beginning to get used to the smell. He gently set the sack on his bed and stripped out of his ruined clothes.

Moments after Rhys had lowered himself into the tub, he heard Jayson behind him.

"I'm worried about you, Rhys," the man said softly. "I know you have always been attracted to darker paths, but I always thought that your heart was in the right place. Stealing food from the palace kitchens to hand out to the poor, or befriending ruffians because you thought you could steer them towards a better life."

Rhys didn't turn around and didn't respond. He stared at the wall in front of him, unmoving.

"But recently you've been...different. I feel as though you're getting in over your head."

Rhys remained silent.

"That's all I wanted to say."

Rhys heard Jayson's retreating footsteps. He sank lower into the water. Contemplating Jayson's words, he wondered if they held some truth. He had been so caught up in reaching the final stages of his master plan that he had allowed himself to commit some acts he normally wouldn't. He'd convinced himself that the ends would justify the means. Once he'd broken his code once, it became easier and easier to do it again. Like a woman making her first purchase at the market; the next vendor knew she was sure to splurge now that the floodgate was open.

He held his breath and ducked his head under the water. Bubbling back to the surface, he shook his hair free of the excess water, ignoring the mess it made on the floor. _The end_ would _justify the means_ , he told himself firmly. Even so, he decided to rein in a bit of his dismissive attitude towards the morality of those means.

After he had soaked all of the grime off him, he redressed in fresh clothes, reveling in the clean feel. He went over to the sack on his bed and pursed his lips. They had said that they would find him, but how quickly? How long did he have to keep an unknown snake in a bag? He sighed and lifted it, wondering if he should find a better living arrangement for the poor thing while he waited, when something caught his eye.

There was a small hole in the corner of the bag, the edge of which was covered in glowing slime. He hurriedly felt around in the bag, and feeling nothing, turned it completely inside-out. Frantic now, he searched the rest of the room. But he found nothing. No snake, no slime. He didn't know a whole lot about snakes but was pretty sure they weren't normally slimy. Clearly, this one was, however. He tried to remember when he had set the bag down on the bed if it had still felt like there was something inside. He was pretty sure there had been, but he had been distracted by the draw of a bath.

He was exhausted, but he didn't dare sleep with the threat of a possibly-deadly snake loose in his room. Besides which, if he didn't find it before the Shadow Sisters found him, he'd have failed in his mission. He searched the room again but still came up with nothing.

He followed his footsteps back down into the city, keeping a sharp lookout for glowing slime. At least the Three had given him something to work with. Without this oddity, he'd have no idea whether he'd find some clue or not. Though since he hadn't seen any slime either, it really wasn't particularly helpful anyway.

With his eyes glued to the ground, he ran straight into someone. And that someone didn't bother to move. Rhys looked up to mumble an apology, only to find himself looking into the cold eyes of Jak.

"I grow tired of waiting, Rhys," Jak drawled.

"I've been working on it," Rhys replied.

Jak raised an eyebrow and looked him over appraisingly. "You have two weeks. After that, you'll pay by providing me with the pleasure of watching you die...slowly and painfully."

He strolled off, and Rhys swore.

*

Wren knocked on his parents' door, feeling strange to be waiting to enter the home he'd lived so long in. After a moment, the door opened, and his mother beamed at him.

"You've come for a visit?" she asked hopefully.

Wren nodded, despite his ulterior motives. _What she doesn't know won't hurt her_. She opened the door wider and ushered him inside. The smell that assaulted his nostrils told him that he'd timed his visit just right. His mother bustled around, adding an extra plate to the table before dishing out the pancakes she'd made. He grabbed a jug of water and filled the glasses for her as his father came in from the other room.

"Wren!" His father greeted him with a handshake.

"Thanks for letting me join you for breakfast," he said as they all sat.

His mother tsked him. "You're always welcome to join us anytime."

Wren drizzled his pancake with syrup, took a bite, and sighed happily. He tried, but making his own meals didn't even come close to being as good as his mother's. "I have to admit," he said reluctantly, "that your cooking is much better than mine."

The look on his mother's face made up for the fact that she'd never let him forget it. They spent the first half of the meal in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the food and one another's company. Despite himself, Wren found himself missing it. _Just a tiny bit_.

They chatted about mundane things, finishing the rest of the pancakes. Having stuffed himself, he sat back, satisfied. He looked at his mother, who was dabbing a napkin across her face, having also just finished her meal.

"Rhys told me that the rumors about Phoenix are getting worse," he told her regretfully.

He felt rather guilty for not having passed along the information sooner, but with Phoenix's refusal to let him court her, he hadn't been overly eager to talk about her to his mother. She was always a bit too inquisitive, especially about girls.

"Just the ones about her lack of talent leaving the kingdom open to danger?" she asked, knowing right off what he was talking about.

"That one, yes. Also, her ability to know when things are going to happen. How she seems to know and remember even the smallest details about everyone's life. I think these are all good things about her, but the way that people are talking about it makes it seem like it's something to be feared. Instead of believing that Phoenix just genuinely cares about all of her subjects, they are concentrating on gossiping about how she comes up with this information. They're saying that she's somehow getting this information with her mind."

"There was a time when hearing voices in your head was considered a sacred thing," his mother murmured, and he gave her a strange look. She waved a hand at him to forget it and continue.

"People are saying that she's _reading_ minds. Like the King and Queen can do with one another to communicate, but without permission and without the other person knowing. They are claiming that she invades their minds to garner this information to impress." He stopped and thought for a moment. "Does it really matter that a few people are talking about her? I mean, I understand that we don't want anything bad said about any of the royals, and she certainly doesn't deserve it, but really who cares what a handful of people say?"

His mother gave him a strange look. He knew that she was considering his sudden change in attitude towards Phoenix. Usually he was overly protective of the girl. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

"Rumors can be devastating," his mother answered, thankfully skirting around the issue of his own sudden lack of concern. "A person's reputation is very important, especially as the heir where most of the kingdom can only know you by reputation. And the timing is perfect, as far as the instigator is concerned. Anything Phoenix has done in the past will be forgotten in the wake of these rumors. It's how people are; they will concentrate on the most recent behaviors. Or in this case, rumors. They are undermining her position."

"I suppose you're right," he conceded.

He stood and began to clear the dishes away. His father asked if he wanted to see the new plant he had cross-bred, and Wren seized the opportunity to be out of his mother's company while the conversation about Phoenix was still fresh in her mind. Unfortunately, this meant that he was stuck staring at plants for the next half-hour, a passion that he did not share with his father. He liked the results of the man's obsession – they had often enjoyed new drinks and spices made from his trials – but did not really care to hear about the process to discover them. Finally, his father finished showing off his latest creation, and Wren begged leave of them. Despite sitting through his father's long-winded explanation, he did not completely dodge his mother's questions about his lack of enthusiasm for Phoenix's plight.

"What have you been up to lately?" his mother asked before he could scurry out the door.

He sighed. He would have to tell her something or she would get back onto the Phoenix subject. "I've been trying to find a unicorn," he told her flatly. He expected her to tell him that looking for a magical creature was a nice distraction but he should be working on something more important.

"I remember something about that..." she said instead, surprising him.

"What?" he asked her excitedly.

She hesitated, a slightly confused look on her face, and turned to stare him straight in the eye. She abruptly changed the subject, "Why are you suddenly so cavalier about Phoenix's problems? A few weeks ago you would have been foaming at the mouth at the idea of people speaking badly about her. Today you seem like you think she deserves it." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, then widened them in horror. "You haven't begun to believe the stories have you?"

Wren debated the outcome of using this excuse. On one hand, it would distract his mother away from the real reason for his changed opinion, but on the other, it would just create even more problems for him. And no matter how disappointed, hurt, or whatever these emotions roiling through him were at Phoenix's rejection, he didn't really want his mother to think that he believed such horrible things about her.

"No," he said finally.

The pause was long enough that his mother had apparently decided that his hesitation was caused by indecision on whether or not to believe the rumors. She cut off the rest of what he was going to say. "You listen to me, Wren. There is not a malicious bone in that girl's body. I know the two of you haven't been able to spend much time together lately, but she is still the pure little girl you worshipped as a child."

"I didn't-" Wren started to protest, but she once again ran him over.

"I will be very disappointed in you if you let what other people are saying about her override everything you know to be true of her character."

His mother gave him a stern look before whisking herself away, apparently unable to stand being in his presence a second longer without saying something she'd regret.

Wren sighed. He said good-bye to his father, who simply shook his head at his mother's departure, and headed to the Gateroom. Once back through the gate, he headed towards the stables. The now-familiar stable-boy smiled at his entrance.

"The usual horse, sir?"

"Please," Wren agreed.

When the horse was brought out, he swung a leg over. Riding was getting easier every time he went out. The horse seemed to know the way to go, and he hardly had to guide it towards the woods he'd spent so much time in of late. When the woods became too thick for the horse, he dismounted and proceeded on foot.

He stepped out into the clearing where he had first stumbled upon the woman, whose name, he realized, he didn't know. He glanced around the quiet pool. Birds chattered happily in the branches, flitting this way and that, but it was the only movement in the woods. She mentioned that she came to the pool frequently, enjoying the solitude, and he hoped that he might run into her again. Wren stood there for a long moment, wondering if he had imagined the gorgeous woman, and staring out into the forest.

Finally, he sighed and turned to leave. His footsteps crunched on the dried leaves.

"Leaving already?" a tinkling voice asked behind him.

He whirled around and his face broke out into a smile as he spied the woman on the far edge of the pool, winding in and out of the saplings towards him.

"I was hoping to see you again," he admitted. "I'm glad you came."

"As am I," the woman smiled and came to stand next to him. She took his elbow and led him over to a fallen log. She sat gracefully and he followed suit. "You seem troubled," she stated.

Wren sighed. "I just had an unpleasant conversation with my mother. She thinks that I believe rumors about an old friend which I don't."

"Why don't you just tell her that?"

"Because then I would have to tell her the real reason for the rift in our friendship."

She seemed to sense his reluctance to reveal that reason and didn't press further. Instead, she asked, "What are the rumors?"

"They are about the princess," Wren began and the woman rose her eyebrows.

"You call the princess an old friend?"

He shrugged. "We were playmates as children. I have not seen much of her recently." He hoped his admission might put out any thoughts the woman might have of his romantic interest in Phoenix. "Anyway, someone has been spreading lies that her special abilities are a work of evil."

"Special abilities?"

"She seems to know just what a person needs to hear, or remember the smallest detail about a person's life to mention or ask about, and just the best course of action in many situations. It was a trait that has been well-celebrated in the past."

"But not anymore?" the woman guessed.

"No. Lately, someone has been spreading the poisonous rumor that it stems from her ability to read people's minds."

The woman's eyes grew wide, giving her a doe-like appearance. "Can she?"

"I don't think so. She used to have these imaginary friends when she was little that talked to her all the time, and she said that as she got older they stopped using words and started just being feelings. Her mother always said that she was just extremely intuitive."

He pondered this a moment, the memories of the long-forgotten imaginary friends speaking to her bubbling up from his subconscious. Was it possible she read people's minds without knowing it herself? Could it be that these "friends" speaking with her were really other people's thoughts floating into her head? He shook his head clear of the unsettling thoughts. He mother was right; Phoenix had a pure heart. She wasn't capable of such indecency.

"She avoided several assassination attempts from remnants of the Order simply by suddenly and inexplicably changing her plans for the day. When she was only three, she threw an extremely out-of-character tantrum which caused her to miss a play...where half-way through the first scene an arrow flew out of the woodwork and straight into the seat she was supposed to be occupying. It was found to have been rigged beforehand to go off, and had she been sitting there at the time..."

"Oh my," the woman commented. "And these imaginary friends told her the strange things she knew?" She looked thoughtful.

Wren felt a twinge of guilt for having betrayed Phoenix's secret to the woman. He tried to take it back, "I don't think they told her things like that," he backtracked. "I just happened to remember that detail right then.

"I see," the woman said, clearly picking up on his sudden unwillingness to share more details about Phoenix with her. She changed the subject for him. "Have you had any unicorn sightings recently?"

Wren grasped at the change enthusiastically. "No, but I haven't been able to search as much as I'd like." _Mostly because I've been waiting in this clearing hoping to see you again_.

"Pity," she remarked. "I have been keeping an eye out myself, but I haven't yet had the pleasure of spotting one." She wore a sly smile.

"You do believe me, don't you?" he asked, getting the unnerving feeling that she was keeping something from him.

"Absolutely," she agreed, bobbing her head up and down and causing her voluminous curls to bounce prettily around.

He relaxed. "I realized," he began awkwardly after a few moments, "that I don't even know your name."

"Nor I yours," the woman said, but did not offer the information.

"I am Wren, son of Lady Katrina and Lord Aaron," Wren supplied.

The woman was silent for a moment. "You may call me Lise," she finally said, holding out her delicate hand.

Wren shook it gently, relishing the feel of her soft skin against his. "It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lady."

She smiled brightly.

"Isn't it odd, Lise, for a lady to be out in the woods all by herself? I should think that your mother would be beside herself with worry."

Lise laughed. "Is _your_ mother beside herself with worry? Are you saying that because I am a woman I should have a complete entourage every moment of the day?"

Wren cleared his throat. "It is common practice, I believe, for young ladies to be chaperoned so that nothing untoward happens to them."

"Well," Lise replied cheekily, "I am not in the business of practicing common things. Besides, what's going to hurt me out here?" She gave him a comically dramatic look, "Are you going to hurt me?"

"No," he answered, "but that doesn't mean there aren't other things out here that are dangerous. Bandits, wolves, bears, you could even just slip and fall and you wouldn't be able to call for help!" he explained in exasperation.

"And all of those things could just as easily happen to you," she pointed out, much to his frustration.

"But you're a girl!" he blurted out.

"So good of you to notice," Lise retorted scathingly. When Wren looked over at her, he was thankful to see that despite her harsh words, a smile played on her lips. She dropped her eyes from his. "You remind me of someone." Her tone grew sad and she was silent for a long moment.

Wren opened his mouth to ask her about it, but thought better of it. He didn't really want to hear about other men she knew. They sat quietly for a long time, just enjoying the beauty of nature. When she looked back up at him, a tear glistened in the corner of her eye.

"I have to go," she told him, abruptly standing. She picked up her skirt and quickly walked off.
CHAPTER 5

Queen Layna strode into the room. Phoenix immediately stood and bowed to her mother, who, as always, waved away this formality as though it was a pesky insect.

"I know you have a lot on your plate already, Phoebe," she began, taking a seat next to Phoenix who had reseated herself on the couch, "but I have a favor to ask of you."

Phoenix sighed inwardly, but outwardly simply smiled at her mother. The woman's aging features seemed to have taken on even more worry lines since the arrival of the strangers. Though there seemed to be no malice from the visitors, and no threats of hostility, there was still a tension in the air around them. If she could ease some of the burden of her mother's stress, she would.

"What is it?" she asked politely.

"Lady Aria and Lord Noam's son, Gavin, will be coming to the palace, and I would appreciate you taking him under your wing. He's a year younger than you, so he'll be completing the last of his schooling with the tutors here. Could you please show him around?"

Phoenix nodded. Her mother went on, as though trying to make Phoenix understand why she was asking such a favor of her, though she was already aware. She let her mother explain anyway.

"As the son of the Lady Aria, the First Advisor and my Treymayne equivalent, he is technically almost equal to you in status. He's been raised by relatives in Treymayne, but has come back to spend the last year of training here. His mother says he wishes to be part of the royal guard. Very commendable."

"Indeed," Phoenix agreed. "I would be happy to show him around." Phoenix had known Lady Aria her entire childhood, yet she had very few memories of actual interactions with the woman. Upon reflection, Phoenix guessed that Aria was not a child-lover. Recent observation of the lady in the nursery suites seemed to confirm that she was uncomfortable in the presence of children. This apparent fact, combined with how busy she was, made it unsurprising that her son had been raised by relatives. It was a practice that was not unheard of, and was actually quite common with the lesser nobles. It was especially common in situations where they could let their heirs take advantage of better schooling or upbringing from more wealthy relatives. Phoenix understood it but was very happy that her parents had chosen to keep her near, no matter how busy they had been. Though many of the meetings and Council sessions that she had sat through had been tedious and tiring, Phoenix wouldn't change her time with her parents for anything.

Queen Layna let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sweetie. I knew I could count on you. With everything going on with the heralds being here..." she didn't finish the sentence. Both knew that the Queen was dealing with more than just playing hostess. Phoenix had no doubt that even as they spoke there were spies and extra guards being put in place all over the kingdom, watching for more travelers from the sea. And her mother, Phoenix was sure, felt the need to oversee all of these personally.

"When should I expect Gavin's arrival?" she asked.

"He's already here. He's staying in Lady Aria's suite at the moment. Could you go and collect him in time to show him to the first classes of the day?" she asked hopefully.

Phoenix inwardly sighed again, and outwardly smiled. "Of course. I'll go fetch him now."

Layna kissed the top of her daughter's head. "You're the best."

Phoenix watched her mother go, then stood and walked over to her closet. _I suppose for meeting such an important guest I should really wear something more formal,_ she thought with a sigh. Unfortunately, formal meant uncomfortable. She rang the bell for one of her maids to come help her. When the door opened moments later, Phoenix greeted Alisha warmly. The girl was one of her favorites; she always had gossip from the staff and was willing to share, even if she did have the annoying habit of interfering in Phoenix's personal life.

Alisha flew around the room, gathering all the necessary items she would need to beautify her mistress. Phoenix relinquished herself into the girl's capable hands. In no time at all, Phoenix was satisfactorily dressed and made-up to play the part of hostess to the young man. She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head in amazement. The transformation that Alisha had been able to accomplish in such a short amount of time was nothing less than a miracle. Phoenix had often tried to do her own make-up when she didn't want to bother one of the maids, but found that the final product never came even close to what Alisha had just done.

Phoenix thanked the maid with a smile and picked up the billowing skirt to step carefully out of the room. Across the palace, she raised her hand to knock at the door to Lady Aria's suites. After a moment, the woman's welcoming response sounded from inside and Phoenix creaked open the door.

"Hello, Princess," Lady Aria greeted her, holding her hand out to beckon Phoenix into the room. "Queen Layna said you'd be coming for Gavin."

Lady Aria led the way into the main chamber of the suite and cleared her throat to get the young man's attention. Gavin looked up from the book he was reading and smiled.

"Ah, Princess, I hear you are to be my guide." He snapped the book shut and rose to his feet, strolling over to gallantly plant a kiss on her hand.

"Indeed, Lord Gavin, it will be my pleasure to escort you to your classes and show you around the palace. Is this your first time to the capital?"

"I've been here on visits but never long enough to satisfy my curiosity. There are so many rooms! Do you know the history of the place?" The boy seemed genuinely interested and Phoenix found herself warming to him immediately. She decided that perhaps this wouldn't be such a tedious task after all.

"I do," she paused and corrected herself, "or at least, some of it. I would be happy to tell you what I know."

"Excellent!" Gavin exclaimed. "When do we begin?"

"The next class starts in about an hour, so we could walk around a bit before heading that way if you'd like?"

"Thank you, Princess." He bowed his head to her and gestured for her to lead the way out into the hallway to start the tour. Phoenix thought that Lady Aria looked rather relieved to have him leave.

Phoenix escorted her ward around the various hallways, showing him the artwork and imparting what knowledge she had about the history of the place. After a while she asked him, "So where are you from exactly?" she paused uncomfortably, seeing as how his parents lived here. "I mean, where did you grow up?"

He seemed to take no offense. "My aunt and uncle on my father's side raised me at their home in the southern section of old Treymayne. I must admit, not seeing the sea every morning out my window will be difficult. Already, the air feels different. The smell of it is...." He trailed off, apparently not wanting to upset her by describing how the air here smelled.

"The smell of the city is not as nice as that of the sea, hmm?" she filled in for him, smiling.

He smiled back. "No."

"Did you see your parents much?" Phoenix ventured, having picked up no resentment at the boy's upbringing.

"My father came to visit regularly," Gavin supplied, "but my mother's schedule didn't allow her to come as often." He looked over and met Phoenix's eye. "My aunt was wonderful to me; she's like a second mother. I can hardly blame Lady Aria – my mother – for wanting me to spend my childhood with parents who had more time for me rather than trying to run two countries."

"That's very noble of you," Phoenix said.

He shrugged. "I guess. I don't see any point in making sour grapes over it."

Phoenix was silent a moment, before starting up her stream of historic facts. Many of the histories of the palace before the Dark King had been erased as a side-effect of the mass book burnings that took place. Therefore, it was now a topic of great interest and debate among the scholarly community to put together what had happened. Through Wren, Phoenix was privy to many of the theories, which Gavin drank in with enthusiasm.

"There's been much discussion about the very beginning of our world, when it is said that the dragon-gods walked among us, before we considered them deities."

"Do you believe that dragons actually exist?" Gavin asked, the skepticism in voice hard to miss.

Phoenix was taken-aback. "Of course I do. My mother defeated the traitor-dragon Nuko before she took the throne."

"But a real dragon?" Gavin persisted, "Surely no one really believes that, do they? I mean, I know that King Nathair found a way to turn himself into the form of one, but he was still just a man. A real dragon?" he repeated.

"The Queen is not a liar," Phoenix stated firmly, carefully controlling her tone as to hide her anger.

Gavin immediately put up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. I meant no offense." He didn't speak for several long moments. "The people from my home have always assumed that this was some sort of exaggeration or metaphor for the actual event, glorified by the bards as they spread the tale. Hearing that it is the truth increases the respect I have for the Queen – your mother – exponentially and piques my interest."

"Lady Aria never spoke of it to you? Or Lord Noam? It seems they both were at least partially involved. I would imagine they could confirm it for you."

"Never so much as to clarify the truth behind the existence of dragons. Perhaps I will have to bring up the subject with Lady Aria while I am here." Though he had not repeated his disbelief, Phoenix could tell he still wasn't convinced.

She didn't comment.

"Is it also true that she spoke to the Three in her head then?"

"It is. When the dragons left our world, they left behind three stones – the Kiani Stones that now grace the statue in the gardens – to help guide our people. For many years, this guidance was seen in the form of the Word down the Great River, which I am sure you are familiar with."

"All too well," Gavin gave her a wry smile. "My uncle is also a priest. Your mother apparently caused quite a stir when she tried to get people to stop praying to the Three, and again when the priests realized that removing the stones had stopped the Word from coming down the river. They had to change everything that they taught."

"But they are not teaching about the dragons?"

"No. Obviously, I don't know how it was before, but we are taught that dragons are just depictions of the gods, not actual beings. You were saying, about the Three in your mother's head?"

"When she and my father were trying to find a way to defeat Nuko, they enlisted the help of the Kiani Stones, even though they weren't aware of what they were. At that point, the dragons decided to move their essences from being tied to the stones to being tied to my mother. Once the threat of Nuko was eliminated, they withdrew entirely from our world."

"I can see why the priesthood doesn't spread that story," Gavin commented.

"Why's that?" Phoenix asked briskly.

"Because, what you just said is that the gods we have been praying to for hundreds of years up and left us. That's hardly comforting. People want something to believe in that will protect them, not abandon them."

Phoenix contemplated this a moment, and then nodded. "I suppose you're right."

"So Queen Layna can't hear the voices of the Three anymore?"

Phoenix shook her head.

"Can you hear voices?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but he was staring straight ahead, not seeming to realize the gravity of his question. "No." Her mother had come to her recently with concerns over a number of rumors that had been spreading around.

"Pity." He came to a stop in front of an enormous piece of art hung by the entrance to the training areas. "What is this elaborate masterpiece?"

"Lord Chancelor had it commissioned shortly after the Dark King was defeated to remind future generations of the dangers of letting the power control you. While some of the sentiments are a bit outdated – we obviously don't outlaw the use of magic anymore – the general feeling remains the same. Power in many forms can corrupt."

"Indeed," Gavin said softly.

The door to the training area suddenly burst open, and a stout man came hurrying out. Spotting Phoenix, he paused to give her a brief bow which she accepted with a nod. The eyes that met hers were beady and black, resembling more animal than human. They fit nicely with the very pig-like snout that protruded from the man's face, and upward-facing ears of a swine.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gavin backing away slowly and she tried to draw the man's attention away from Gavin's obvious surprise.

"What are you working on today, Arnie?" she asked, making a gesture towards his hands which he had clasped in front of him.

Her question drew Arnie's gaze downwards and he didn't seem to notice Gavin's unflattering response to his appearance. He answered Phoenix brusquely, "We've been doing some sword training, Princess, but I seem to have cut myself," he held out his hand, "and it won't stop bleeding." As he spoke, the freely-flowing blood slowed and coagulated, forming a dark scab across his stubby palm. His hands were mostly human, but the influence of pig even here made his training most difficult, Phoenix knew. He looked down at the now-scabbed wound. "Ah, thank you, Princess. I'll be going back in now."

The door clanged shut behind him and Phoenix turned to Gavin. He looked stunned and was looking from her to the door, as though trying to decide which to ask about first.

"What was that?"

"You mean who," Phoenix corrected. "That is Arnie from the Kanza tribe in the forgotten lands. Many of their people are still affected by enchantments from the Dark King's reign that changed their forms. They fled to what is now their home and used powerstones to mask their changes. But now that our mothers have unified the lands, there are some brave enough to venture out, even given the reactions that they cause to those around them."

It took a full two minutes for Gavin to properly digest this news. As with all the children of the kingdoms, he would have been taught about the tribes. But learning about it and seeing it first-hand were two different things. He finally regained the color in his face.

"And his hand," he nodded towards the closed door and then eyed her, "that's true as well then?"

Phoenix nodded and shrugged. "I guess so," she agreed, moving down the hall once more. "No one has been able to detect any sort of spell doing it, but people tend to heal faster in my presence. My parents say that it's an after-effect of the spell that was used to clear out the Bricrui."

"Isn't it strange to have parents who are such strong mages when you..." he trailed off, embarrassed.

Phoenix wasn't fazed. "We all have our special abilities." She came to a halt in front of another door and turned to him. "Here we are; your first class. The instructor is Master Hall, and he'll be teaching history, so I hope you were paying attention."

She gave him a wink before pushing the door open. He went inside and then turned back to her where she stood still holding the door. "Aren't you coming?"

"I've already had these lessons and I have things I need to attend to, but I'll come and escort you to the next class when this is over. Have fun."

As she let the door close behind her, Phoenix gave a sigh of relief. In reality, she probably should have sat through the lesson as a refresher, but she did have things to attend to and hoped to have time to clear her head. She spoke with the overseer about the morning assignments and only made one small suggestion to the arrangement. Part of her duties as princess included making sure that the palace ran smoothly and especially now that her mother was so stressed she wanted to make sure that nothing went awry. As usual, the servants had things well under control and she was able to take those few moments of solitude she'd been hoping for to think before she would need to get Gavin again.

She walked through the winding halls to the library. She wasn't in the mood to read, but she wanted the quiet solitude. She was just taking a seat by the window when she heard her name.

"Princess Phoenix," a young girl called softly.

Phoenix suppressed a sigh and turned to see who it was. Madeline was tip-toeing towards her, looking around to see if any of the library patrons had heard her. She was clutching a book to her chest, and she squeezed herself next to Phoenix. Although Madeline was much younger than Phoenix, when she and Wren had spent afternoons in the library they more often than not found Madeline to be their constant shadow. The younger girl was as enthusiastic about learning as Wren was, and despite her lesser years often surprised even him with her knowledge.

"Look what I found!" Madeline exclaimed excitedly. She held out the book for Phoenix to see.

Phoenix looked down at the title, _The Adventures of Explorer Mendalin_. Madeline cracked it open to a page that she'd been holding with her finger and pointed to a passage. Leaning close to Phoenix she read aloud. "It was there that Mendalin found new land. The storms had washed his vessel up onto a strange new place where the people spoke in familiar but foreign tongues and the animals and plants were alien to him. Though he only spent a few days in this place before he had to take advantage of the winds to get home lest risk being stranded there forever, he stands by his claim that land exists on the other side of the great seas."

"But no one believed him because he could never prove it," Phoenix added, remembering the book from one of her lessons.

"Yes," Madeline nodded emphatically. "Isn't that amazing? All those years ago, but no one believed him, and now here they are. I've been trying to find other mentions of the voyage that might tell us what else he found there, but no one seems to have found it worthwhile to document."

"Luckily, we have the chance to find out more now."

"I know," Madeline said, a bit loudly, and another reader shushed her. She ducked her head in embarrassment and lowered her voice. "I know. I talked to Wren about it the other day," she whispered, "but he's too preoccupied with another line of research to help me." She pouted cutely. Phoenix felt a twinge of jealously that Wren was still talking to her.

"Have you gotten to talk to the visitors?" Madeline asked. The girl's excitement was contagious.

"Not as much as I would like," she admitted, "though I hope to be able to have a few candid conversations with them once my mother is done with them. At the moment, they are much too caught up with political dealings to have much time for idle chat."

Madeline reached out and squeezed her hand. "Promise me that you'll tell me anything you find out?" Her eyes grew big.

Phoenix laughed at the urgency with which Madeline made this request, and quickly stifled it at the look she got from one of the historians that happened to be walking by. "I promise," she whispered. She patted the girl's hand before removing her own, "but right now there is a young lord I need to accompany to his next class."

*

Rhys slept through half the day after having searched high and low for the elusive snake. Finally, he'd been so tired that despite the danger, he went to bed.

When he woke, Jayson was there with eggs and bacon. The delicious aroma enticed him out of the warm embrace of his covers, and Rhys dug into the late breakfast with relish.

"There was an incident in the city today," Jayson commented, a bit too casually.

"What kind of incident?" Rhys asked through a mouthful of eggs.

"A Lord Caverson was killed."

Rhys almost choked. "What?"

Jayson's eyes bored into him, as though trying to determine whether or not his surprise was real. Finally, he continued. "He was discovered by his servants this morning, having been stabbed to death in his bed. There was nothing that the servants reported missing, so it is assumed to have been an assassination."

"Nothing that his servants _reported_ missing?" Rhys repeated, noticing Jayson's odd tone. "Does that mean there was something missing that they didn't report?"

Jayson smiled. "Well, if I woke up and found you dead I might be tempted to take a few things myself and not report them," he joked.

Rhys shoved him in the shoulder.

The man sobered. "In all seriousness, there were rumors of something strange going on in the dungeons, and I heard that the floor gave out down there. Almost as if someone decided to cover it up."

"How strange." His mind whirled. He thought of Laris. Could the man have decided to take vengeance on the man for committing acts he so obviously disagreed with? "Might it have been an inside job?"

Jayson shrugged. "It was assumed so at first because the guards hadn't ever been alerted, and as far as anyone can tell, there was no way in. But when the investigators saw the dagger, they suddenly all went quiet."

"Why? What was so special about it?"

"I don't know," Jayson shrugged. "It had a black handle and a red blade, but that's all any of the servants said about it. They're all pretty shaken up."

"I would imagine so," Rhys agreed, feeling rather shaken himself. He pulled himself out of bed and threw on some clothes. More than ever he felt the pressing need to find the snake. "Do you know anything about snakes, Jayson?" he asked casually.

"Snakes? A bit I suppose. Why do you ask?" Jayson was obviously taken-aback by the strange request.

Rhys kicked himself for not having thought of a good reason before asking the question. Luckily, one came to him quickly. "I was just at the Gardens of Intrigue the other day and I saw one that had some kind of green slime coming out of it. I didn't think that snakes had anything like that."

Jayson thought for a moment. "I do seem to recall something like that, though I had no idea there was one in the Gardens. Perhaps I'll have to go see it for myself."

"What do you remember?"

"I believe it's called a Lycant. It is a magical beast, though not one created by blood-magic so I'm not sure why it would be housed in the Gardens." He paused and gave Rhys a penetrating stare. "You're sure that's where you saw it?" Rhys could tell he was beginning to get suspicious.

"Maybe I read about it or something and got mixed up; I don't know why I thought about it just then. Is it poisonous?"

"Not usually, but it does have some rather unique qualities."

Just then something caught Rhys's attention out of the corner of his eye. There was a bit of glowing green goo at the foot of his armoire. He quickly moved so that Jayson's gaze followed him away from the armoire. "Well, that's nice. Thank you very much for the food. I can get myself ready; thank you." He opened the door and ushered a reluctant and bewildered Jayson out.

He shut the door behind Jayson and sighed, leaning against it for a moment. Then he grabbed the sack from his bedside table – which he had mended during his search so there was no longer a hole. Very carefully, he opened the doors to the armoire and peered inside. There, lying peacefully in the back corner, was the Lycant. Rhys let out a breath slowly and drew on the power to place a spell on the creature. Once again, seeing as how it was already motionless, nothing happened.

He reached forward to pick up the snake and place it in the bag. This time, it didn't go willingly. Just as Rhys's hand was within reach, the snake burst to life and shot straight up his sleeve. He leapt backwards, his skin crawling as the reptile moved around in his shirt. It took all his might to keep himself from batting at it, but he didn't want to provoke the animal into biting him, poisonous or not.

"The animals arrived safely at their destination," a female voice behind him said.

Rhys tried not to jump at the sound or from the snake now slithering into his pants. He turned around slowly to see the same girl who had given him the task the other night. She was strikingly, if darkly, beautiful in the light.

"Now all that remains is for you to produce the snake." She looked at him expectantly and he clamped his jaw while the snake coiled itself into his undergarments.

Not taking his eyes off the woman, he slowly reached into his pants. She raised her eyebrows at his motion, and she started to protest until she saw the Lycant in his hand. She smiled.

"I see snakes like you as much as they do your mother." Rhys held out the snake, but drew it towards him once again when she reached for it. She frowned. "The deal is not complete until you hand it over."

"There was nothing in the deal about someone being murdered either. And what do you mean about my mother?"

The woman looked him over, and the easy smile spread slowly across her face again. "We were just as shocked to hear about the murder as you. We could not get in ourselves, which is why it was your test to do so. It is very impressive that someone else managed the feat. As for your mother," she paused, "I only meant she is much admired in certain circles for her expertise. At one time, she worked quite well with a snake of her own." Her eyes grew dark. "Now, if you want our support, give me the Lycant."

Rhys reluctantly handed the reptile over to her, still not satisfied with either answer. If she truly thought that he would believe so easily that they had nothing to do with Lord Caverson's death, she was sadly mistaken. The timing was just too coincidental. As she whipped her cloak around to leap back out his window, his fears were confirmed. Hanging off her belt was a very unique dagger – black handled with a red blade peeking out from its scabbard.

He rushed to the window and looked out to see her descent, but she was gone before she hit the ground. A frantic knock sounded at the door, and Jayson let himself back in. "Is everything all right? I thought I heard voices." He glanced around the room worriedly.

"Everything is fine, Jayson," Rhys assured him, closing the window as he turned, still deep in thought. "My mother worked with the beasts that had been freed from the blood-magic portal, didn't she?"

"She did," Jayson agreed, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Do you remember hearing anything about her working with snakes?"

"There were all kinds of animals. I'm sure she did." He paused a moment, then continued. "I do remember a particular story, actually, about a python that was a very sad case. I believe she was able to rehabilitate it despite even the Queen thinking it was beyond helping."

Rhys sighed in relief. Perhaps he had been mistaken about the dagger too. After all, it had been only a fleeting glance as she leapt out the window.

"What's with you and all the questions about snakes this morning?" Jayson asked, moving around him to pick up the burlap sack that Rhys had left abandoned on the ground.

Rhys tried to beat him to it but didn't succeed. His muscles tensed as Jayson's eyes swept across the floor behind it.

"What is this?" Jayson's voice went up to a hysterical pitch. He was pointing to the green slime puddle under the armoire.

Rhys cursed himself for not hiding it. "It's from the Lycant. But don't worry, it's gone now."

"It's gone _now_?" Jayson gave him such a reproachful stare that Rhys actually felt a little ashamed.

"Look, it wasn't being cared for and needed a new home. I just helped facilitate it getting there."

Jayson looked as though he was trying hard not to say something he would regret. When he spoke it was through gritted teeth. "I find it hard to believe that someone would want to take this snake simply out of charity." He paused to take a deep calming breath. "The unique abilities I mentioned it had?" He gave Rhys a penetrating stare. "That slime in your armoire is used to poison weapons. It may not be deadly as it is, but mix it with certain other substances and it becomes a fatal poison, impossible to detect. They are extremely rare because of this. They were hunted almost to the point of extinction." He glanced back at the slime and shook his head. His tone became devoid of emotion. "I'll get that cleaned up for you."

Without another look at Rhys, Jayson left the room.

Rhys stood where he was for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head to clear it of the unpleasant thoughts. This only further committed him to his goal. Once he completed it, he would be in a position to right this wrong and ones like it. There was nothing he could do to change the past – only work towards a better future. He grabbed his things and marched out the door, sliding past Jayson as the man re-entered the room to clean up the slime. Neither said a word to the other.

In the city, Rhys tried to clear his head by focusing on watching the people around him. He didn't need to run into Jak right now and keeping alert meant that he couldn't dwell on other subjects. He wove his way through the crowd to the nearest tavern and plunked himself down at the bar. The bartender brought him spiced cider as requested and Rhys sipped it, peering over the top of his mug at the other patrons.

A man sat down beside him at the bar. Rhys watched him out of the corner of his eye. After a few minutes, the man turned to him. "I've got a proposition for you," he said in a low voice, barely loud enough for Rhys to hear.

"I'm not interested," Rhys told him flatly. Whatever he was selling, Rhys didn't want it.

"This one you'll be interested in, I promise," the man continued, unfazed by Rhys's refusal. The man slid a token across the bar towards Rhys. It had a picture of a bird.

Rhys glanced around and whisked this off the bar and into his pouch. This must be representative of the second of the three gangs that Michael had mentioned needed more convincing of Rhys's worthiness. From the token, he knew the man was from a gang called the Crows. Their leader was a sly man who went by the name Mr. Black. Rhys hoped that Mr. Black's request was simpler, and less deadly, than the last.

"Your task is to deliver the Bloodstone."

Rhys choked on his cider. He coughed, trying not to drown on the teaspoon of liquid in his lungs. When he'd finally regained his breath he glared at the man for a moment then stared resolutely at his mug. "Are you _insane_?"

"You may return it afterwards; it has no value now that it's broken anyway, but it will prove you are able to get into the palace vaults. It's the only thing that will truly prove this as we are quite sure that not even you could convince the Queen to let you take it. She considers it extremely dangerous even now."

"Yes, which is why it is completely impossible to get to!" Rhys hissed.

It also wasn't worthless, and Rhys had a feeling that the man knew that. Though it no longer contained the power it once did, it was still an important artifact. While it might be difficult to fence something like that on the street, if you were well-connected enough, you could find a buyer willing to take the risk in order to add it to their collection.

The man shrugged. "That's your problem. You want the support of the Crows, show Mr. Black the Bloodstone. If you get it, bring it to this address. No hurry." The way he said it made it clear he thought Rhys had no chance. Rhys was rather inclined to agree with him.

The man got up and left after handing him a small slip of paper with an address. Rhys picked this up and stared down at it morosely. _This day is just getting better and better_.

*

Wren glanced over at Lise for the hundredth time this afternoon. He still couldn't believe that such a beauty was spending time with him. Her abrupt departure the last time he had seen her had him worried. He was pretty sure she had been crying when she'd left.

He cleared his throat. "You looked a little upset last time I saw you," he stated carefully. She glanced up and met his eyes. "Is everything alright?"

She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you with my problems."

"Please do."

After a moment, she spoke. "Remember how I told you that you reminded me of someone?" She paused and waited for Wren's nod. "I haven't thought about him for a long time, but that realization brought back painful memories...because he's-" she looked as though she may begin to cry again, "he's dead."

"I'm so sorry," Wren said, putting his arm around her awkwardly.

She looked up through glistening eyelashes and smiled sadly. "It was a long time ago. Please, let's talk about something happier."

"Of course," Wren immediately agreed. He thought for a moment. "Would you like to go looking for the unicorn?" he suggested. He really should be doing some actual research while he was out here. It was, after all, what he told everyone he was doing every day.

Her eyes lit up. "That would be wonderful!"

Pouncing on the distracting subject, Wren led the way into the woods he had abandoned in favor of seeing her. They found his last mark, and continued the search.

"How is your friend the Princess doing?" Lise whispered to him as they snuck through the woods.

"I haven't really spoken to her at all lately," he admitted.

"Why not?"

"We had a bit of a falling out," he said, unable to keep the sourness out of his tone.

Lise pushed aside a branch and held it for him to duck past. "With all the rumors about her, she could probably use a friend."

Wren bit his lip. "I'm not sure that I'm ready to be her friend."

Lise glanced back at him. He couldn't read the expression on her face. "I see."

They walked silently for several excruciatingly long minutes while Wren berated himself for having mentioned anything. Lise finally broke the silence.

"I can tell that you care for the Princess. Whatever the circumstances of the falling out, I would think you would want to be there for her."

Wren didn't know what to say. "I guess so."

Lise suddenly stopped in front of him, and he almost ran straight into her.

"Look!" she said excitedly, pointing to the ground. There in the fresh mud from last evening's rain was a perfect hoof print. She met his eye and beamed. Wren thanked the Three for the distraction.

They followed the prints until they came to a clearing in the woods where there was no longer a clear trail.

"Let's spread out and search the edge of the clearing for more prints," Lise suggested.

Wren nodded and started walking around the right of the field while Lise took the left. He glanced up now and again to note her progress, but she was intent on the ground. He focused his own attention back to the ground. He was about to step forward when something underneath his foot caught his eye. He stopped and held his foot to the side. He could just barely make out the edge of another print. It was very faint, hardly even noticeable, but definitely there.

"Over here!" he called out to Lise. She came bounding over, and clapped her hands together in glee. Following the trail through the woods was harder, but eventually Wren began to recognize some of the foliage.

"I'm pretty sure this is the same path I come in on," he noted. "See that log over there? That looks familiar...though they all kind of look the same."

She giggled. "You're not much of an outdoorsman are you?"

Wren grinned unashamedly. "I'm afraid not, My Lady. Does that disappoint you?"

"Not at all," she said and skipped off, following the trail. It led them quite a distance. Wren kept getting the feeling that the woods were very familiar.

Suddenly, Lise disappeared in front of him as she rounded the corner of a large boulder – one he could swear he'd seen before – and he heard her whooping with laughter.

"What's so funny?" he asked, stepping around the stone himself, but then stopping short. Lise was bent over double in laughter, one hand resting on a horse – his horse.

He was dumbstruck for a moment. They had been following his horse's tracks this entire time? Lise's amusement was infectious, and he couldn't help but join in. Their echoing laughter bounced off the trees and birds flew off, startled by the sudden sound.

It took several minutes for the two of them to get themselves under control once more. When the last of their giggling fits passed, they wiped the tears from their eyes and stood up straighter.

"Well, now," Wren began, only to be cut off by a burst of laughter from Lise once more.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, waving a hand at him, "go on."

He glanced up at the sky and took note of the dwindling light. "I suppose I should be going. And I would feel better you were traveling home while it is still light out."

He had tried to get a better feel of where she lived and more than once offered to take her home, but every time he asked her a personal question she seemed to brush it off. Wren didn't know if it was because she was embarrassed by her situation – she seemed very impressed with his station within the palace – or if it was something else entirely. He fervently hoped that it wasn't because she was married and avoiding her husband or some similar unfortunate situation.

"Not to worry, my dear sir. I assure you, I will make it. And luckily," she repressed another fit of giggles and patted his horse's rump, "we found your horse, so you can get home too."

Wren grinned. "Next time, I'm leading."

She put a hand on her hip. "Fine."

"Fine," Wren repeated, glad that she hadn't argued about there being a next time. "Are you sure you'll be able to make it back alright? Can't I walk you somewhere?"

"It's not necessary," Lise waved off the offer once again. "I know these woods like the back of my hand."

"And yet you led us to my horse," Wren teased.

Lise pretended to glare at him. "I said I knew the woods, not the difference between horse tracks and unicorn tracks."

"Very well," Wren said, feeling awkward about mounting his horse and just leaving her in the woods. But her feisty nature would not allow for him to boss her around. If she didn't want to be walked home, he couldn't force her. He cleared his throat and moved to take the reins.

"Talk to Phoenix," she suddenly urged, all traces of laughter gone. "She needs people she can truly trust around her."

Wren didn't comment. Luckily, he didn't have to as Lise turned and walked off without a backwards glance.
CHAPTER 6

Phoenix stepped quietly into the doorway to observe the last few minutes of Gavin's class before escorting him to dinner. This lesson was being taught by Lorcan and Raina of the Myaamia tribe. They had served as envoys between the Forgotten Tribes and the two kingdoms, Gelendan and Treymayne, before all three had united as one with Katya as the Speaker of the Tribes. Now, the couple spent their time teaching about the cultural differences among the kingdoms.

"Long ago, we were all one big country." Raina waved her arms across the classroom as the students looked around at one another. A few murmured conversations broke out but quickly silenced. She paused a moment and clasped her hands while they quieted back down. "After the Dark King, many of the mages who had survived his massacre fled to the north to become the Forgotten Tribes. These peoples cut themselves off from the lower section for their protection. The people in the lower section also spilt, separating into two halves that became known as Gelendan and Treymayne. For many years, a magical barrier prevented contact between these two halves. These separations allowed each group to develop their own very unique cultures."

Lorcan moved, drawing the attention of the students to where he waved his hand over a blackboard. Images magically sprang to life showing a map of the country split into three. Raina glanced back at this and smiled at him in thanks. Then she continued.

"In the north, where the fleeing mages had gone," she pointed on the map, "a large group of mages from all over found themselves thrown together by circumstance. Because of their vast differences in background, differences in opinion on how to run the new group soon arose. It was therefore decided that this group would divide into five tribes, each to govern themselves how they chose and each claiming a different area of the north. Each of these five tribes was given one fifth of the great powerstone that the first circle of mages had come together to create to tame the wild and chaotic magics of the north in order to live there. From there, the Kanza went to the plains, the Dena'ina to their mesa caves, the Gwich'in to their swampy paradise, and the Dakelh to the river, while the Myaamia stayed at the edge of the Ferryn Plains, guarding the path that led to their old home."

A tinkling bell sounded from the hallway. A little girl skipped down the stone passage, happily ringing the bell that sounded the end of the day's lessons.

"Please read the first three chapters in the book I handed out for tomorrow, and come prepared to discuss the similarities and differences in the cultures of each part of our kingdom."

Children swarmed from the room, most of them late adolescents but some young toddlers. Many of the younger children enjoyed Lorcan and Raina's lessons because of their well-known story-telling abilities and would attend even though much of the discussions were over their heads.

Phoenix moved farther into the classroom to make room for the mass of children flowing outwards. She caught Gavin's eye and waved.

He smiled at her and held up a finger, indicating that he would be ready in just a moment. He moved to the front of the room and spoke in a low voice with Lorcan for a moment before joining her by the door.

"What did you think of the class?" she asked as they left the room and began walking down the hallway. "It's one of the most popular, as you may have guessed by the hordes of little ones crashing it."

"I did notice it was particularly cramped in there," Gavin agreed jovially, "and I can certainly see why. Once again, learning these things from someone who has actually experienced them is far more informative and exciting than simply being taught from a book." His stomach growled loudly and Phoenix bit back a giggle. "What's next, Princess?" he asked, "I hope that it's dinner, because I'm famished."

"You're in luck. That's precisely where I'm to escort you next, and the rest of the evening will be yours to do with as you wish."

"A whole evening to myself?" he joked. "Whatever will I do?"

They made their way down the halls, pausing at each intersection where Phoenix allowed Gavin to try and guide their way so that he'd better learn how to navigate the maze of rooms and passages. He guessed wrong twice, but realized his mistake both times after no more than a few steps. Eventually he led them to the dining room. Phoenix congratulated him.

"You can now find your own way to food. What else could a young man want?"

They took their seats at the main table, Phoenix on her mother's right and Gavin on his mother's left. Lady Aria gave him a forced smile and asked how his lessons were going. Phoenix had spoken to her own mother about Lady Aria's odd behavior towards her son. Layna had responded that Aria was simply trying to figure out how to treat Gavin who had grown up with other parents. It was no doubt an awkward situation and an uncomfortable one. Phoenix tried to initiate as much conversation between the two as she could which earned her grateful looks from both mother and son.

The heralds and the young man, Nathiwen, sat at a table in front of the main one and were positioned close enough that Phoenix could interact with them if she spoke loudly. She directed a question to Herald Siajan.

"A friend came across a page in the library which indicated that an adventurer many years ago actually crossed the sea and set foot in your lands. Do your records indicate that such a thing happened?"

"If it did, Princess, it was not given much credit, for it did not make it into any official logs. There are sightings of all sorts of absurd things," he paused and scratched at a non-existent beard, "though since coming here, I must admit that many of them seem less absurd now. Your wildlife is like nothing I have ever seen."

"Oh?" Phoenix asked, intrigued. "How so?"

"Even the smallest creatures, the birds and the little rodents running around, though familiar in many respects, are all foreign to us. And the other day I thought I spotted one of these little rodent creatures flying!"

Phoenix laughed good-naturedly. "No doubt your wildlife would be just as foreign to us. I hope that someday we might be able to visit your lands."

"We would like that very much," Siajan agreed, nodding. After a moment, he posed a question. "If I may be so bold as to inquire," he said slowly, "I have seen a few people with magical adjustments to their features that hardly seem useful. I cannot figure out what purpose many of them seem to have. Are these simply fashion statements?"

Phoenix was surprised to note that it didn't particularly seem to shock him that these people had changes to their appearance; rather his confusion seemed to stem from the fact that he couldn't see any practical purpose for the change. "It was not intentional on their part," she answered, glancing around quickly to ensure that none who might take offense were within hearing. She caught Wren's eye briefly, and smiled at him, but he only managed a thin-lipped grimace back before he looked away. She continued to Siajan, "Their appearance is a result of magical manipulation and experimentation during a dark time in our past. Many now see it as a reminder of the dangers of magic."

He once again surprised her with his answer. "It's not the magic itself that is dangerous. It would seem that it was the person wielding the magic who was the dangerous one."

"Forgive me," she replied, "but I was under the impression that magic wasn't something that the empire looked favorably upon."

He answered her slowly. "Not magic," he explained, "but pure manipulation of the power." He avoided delving further into this subject with an obvious shudder, instead continuing, "We use magic quite frequently in the empire. The Alchemist makes sure that every town gets its rations of the harvest spells, the healing spells, the communication spells, and so on and so forth."

"May I ask how such spells are distributed?" Phoenix's mother chimed in. "Are all these spells in the forms of potions like these?" She waved a finger towards the many bottles and flasks that adorned each of the visitor's clothing.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Siajan nodded. "The Alchemist knows how to safely bottle the magic so that it can be used without fear."

The young man next to the heralds suddenly reached out to pick up his wine glass, but instead ended up flinging it off the edge of the table, spilling its contents below.

"What do you think you are doing?" Herald Kedum roared, his temples bulging. The tables around them hushed as all eyes turned to the visitors. Kedum lowered his voice but continued to glower at the young man. "You must be more careful," he said through clenched teeth, tilting his head slightly away from the boy as though merely the sight of him might cause him to lose his temper again.

Phoenix was surprised by his vehemence, and quickly stood, going over to kneel by the boy's side. The maids were rushing to bring cloths to mop up the spill, but they were stuck in the maze of tables, so Phoenix grabbed her own napkin and began sopping up the mess. The sticky-sweet smell of wine mixed with some kind of spice filled her nostrils as the red liquid soaked into the white cloth.

"It's nothing," she said, standing and handing the soaking rag to a maid who had made her way over to them. Another servant held a new goblet for the man, and Phoenix took this from him, pouring the boy a new glass of wine herself, and handing it to him with a smile. "No harm done," she said firmly. The boy's blank stare looked back at her.

Herald Siajan was the first to recover. "Well, now. I thank you, Princess, for your understanding, and I apologize for my associate's outburst," he said, giving Kedum a stern look. "He's been under a lot of strain, you see. He has a wife and children back home who we have been gone from for far too long, and he has received word that a little one is ill."

"As I said," Phoenix repeated, putting on a kind smile, "no harm done."

Siajan cleared his throat. "I believe you asked about the distribution of potions?"

Queen Layna nodded. They all ignored the servants now cleaning up the remainder of the mess to avoid causing further embarrassment, though Phoenix nodded a thank you to them as they left.

"Certain potions, such as those which ensure healthy crops and people are stock-piled by the Alchemist and regular shipments are sent out, just as I'm sure you do with supplies. Heralds such as myself travel around the different sections of the empire making sure that every town has what they need. If they are lacking something, we report it to the Empress and most times are able to deliver it by the next patrol."

"Do you ever have problems with bandits raiding the shipments? It seems like that would make an enticing target."

Herald Siajan hesitated, and Phoenix could tell that he was holding something back. "There are certainly some problematic people, but nothing that The Most Exalted One cannot handle."

Phoenix broached the subject that she had been itching to ask about. "Why is it that reaching for the power is so dangerous in your empire?"

Siajan's face turned a bit paler than it had been previously. "Let's just say bad things have happened."

*

Rhys slipped out of the tavern and into the darkened alley beyond. Rags were hung above that blocked the sunshine, despite its best efforts to penetrate their grimy fabric. Presently, another figure appeared, leaning up against the opposite wall. Rhys shifted so that the light from the tavern behind him shone on the newcomers face. The face scowled, and the man's eyes darted around nervously.

"I've managed to get you a meeting tonight," he said in a hushed tone. "Behind the wool mill just after sunset."

"What did you tell them?"

"That you had information about her that you'd be willing to sell."

"Thanks," Rhys said shortly and moved off after dropping a number of coins into the man's outstretched hand. The other shadow slipped away into the crowd. Rhys meandered around the corner and paused before stepping out into the streets. His eyes searched the faces in the crowd, looking for signs of Jak's men. He didn't feel like having a run-in with someone's fists today. His ribs were just beginning to feel normal again.

Just as he was about to step out, he stopped short. An entourage of guards was rounding the bend. He slunk back into the shadows and waited, watching. The first few guardsmen rode past, and then, Rhys was surprised to see, Dame Natalya and her sister, Alina. The latter's head turned in his direction for a brief moment, and he held his breath. The eerie look washed past him and she turned her head back towards the front. He wondered what the two of them were doing away from the palace.

He ducked under a stall's table and hoisted himself up onto a railing above which supported the cart's roof. Still unable to get a good view, he swung his leg over the beam and in a quick movement was on top of it. From here, he leaped to the roof of the next building and crept to look down over the side.

From this vantage, he was able to see the middle of the party. Princess Phoenix rode in the center, her beautiful white mare decorated in all its fancy celebration gear, including a headpiece that made it look like a dragon. Beside her, the two heralds and the young man that accompanied them rode, appearing to be asking her a barrage of questions. Rhys watched greedily as one of the heralds lifted an arm to point to a nearby building, revealing the riches within his robes.

Rhys trembled with excitement. It was the first time the visitors had ventured outside the palace walls. All of his attempts to get close enough to relieve them of some of their wealth had gone interrupted while in such closed quarters. Perhaps catching them in the city would give him the opportunity he needed.

He gently lowered himself down from the roof, vaulting himself the last few feet to the ground and landing with a quiet thud. He rose from the crouching position he'd used to cushion his fall and peered around the corner of the building. The party was just getting to the end of the street. Rhys did a quick mental tally of the businesses on their current route that they could possibly be visiting.

Most establishments on the street were generic shops unworthy of a visit from the heralds. There was a high-end brothel house, the Golden Girls, nearby that many a nobleman stopped at during their visit to the palace, but with the Princess in tow, Rhys hardly thought that this would be their destination. Instead, he thought it was more likely that they would be going to the royal Gardens of Intrigue. It was by far the most interesting place nearby and one of the Princess's favorite spots.

The Gardens were a special project that Rhys's mother, Katya, had spearheaded. Queen Layna had allowed Katya to commission a section of the royal grounds to be fenced in and used as a rehabilitation center for strange creatures once termed bloodbeasts. Katya disliked the term, and most people now referred to the animals within the Gardens simply as creatures of Intrigue, or beasts from the Gardens.

Originally the beasts had been created with the use of blood-magic which was a forbidden art that required the use of blood-letting and the infliction of pain to gain more power than a mage otherwise would be capable. Back in the era of the Dark King, the use of blood-magic had run rampant and it remained a problem even several years into Queen Layna's reign, perpetuated by a secret organization called the Order. Everyone Rhys's age had heard the horror stories of blood-magic and the Order, but their lives had been blissfully free from their influence.

The massive book-burnings after the Dark King's reign had destroyed the histories that would have proven it, but it was commonly accepted that their ancestors had trapped these beasts under the Ferryn Plains in the north for lack of a way to dispose of them after the Dark King was overthrown. At the beginning of Queen Layna's reign, remnants of the Order found a way to open a portal which released them from their prison. The result was a great battle where the King and Queen, along with Rhys's mother, had fought off scores of these creatures. When the battle was over, there were many left over that hadn't been killed and were no longer fighting against them. Queen Layna's unusual abilities allowed her to "wash clean" as she described it, the evil which was done to them, the result being nonaggressive, if not completely normal, animals.

The Gardens of Intrigue doubled as a home for these saved creatures, as well as providing a place for the people to go to learn about the events that had happened to Queen Layna, Katya, and King Gryffon before the unification. The Gardens would also provide him with a plethora of hiding spots. He could use the heralds' visit into its winding pathways to attempt to steal something from them to at least pacify Jak for the moment.

He sprinted down the side-streets, leaping over barrels and swerving among the crowds of people. He accidentally bumped into one merchant, making her spill her basket of cloth. He paused to help her get back into place before he hurried off. When he reached the area of the royal gardens, he slowed and looked around to see if he had beaten them there.

The guards were all looking bored – a good indication that they were unaware of the excitement about to befall them. Assuming, of course, that Rhys had correctly guessed where the heralds and their entourage were going.

He waited until his breathing had reached a more normal level before sauntering in through the front gates. The guards nodded and greeted him, "Good day."

He nodded back and maintained his slow pace until he was out of sight. Then, he rushed forward to hop over a nearby fence. He ducked below an outcropping of rocks and peered around.

This was the pen that housed the bird creatures. Some looked like normal birds, with a few missing feathers, absent eyes, or scarred areas betraying their abused past. Others were hardly recognizable as whatever they had once been. During the reign of the Dark King, there had been many atrocities committed against both animals and humans alike. The beasts kept here all had horrible experiences before having been locked away for hundreds of years in the portal out on the Ferryn Plains.

It was only when Queen Layna released and cleansed them that they were finally free of pain. Rhys couldn't imagine having had such a life, in constant agony. It was a wonder that not all of the poor creatures were mad. Not to say that there weren't those who were. Rhys's mother, Katya, was the liaison between the Tribes and the rest of the kingdom, so naturally Rhys had spent a good portion of his childhood up in the Plains and beyond. He'd gotten to see all sorts of the beasts who hadn't fared so well after their ordeal. He still had a nasty scar from one he'd attempted to tame. Those that were sent to the capital for the Gardens of Intrigue were the few who had come out of it still docile.

A bird's head suddenly popped around the boulder he was leaning up against and chirruped at him. He jumped a fraction of an inch at its grotesque appearance but calmed quickly. He reached into his pouch and crumbled up some of the bread he had inside. This he tossed to the animal – some sort of strange cross between a peacock and a raven which gave it an eerie, though still weirdly beautiful countenance.

He crept through the enclosure carefully, making sure to remain hidden behind vegetation. He knew where each of the pathways that led through it for people to view the animals was located, and he avoided these. Soon, he came to a small hole in the fencing that separated this creature from the next. He lowered himself to the ground and wriggled through the opening. On the other side, he emerged in a hilly area. The hillside was covered in giant rock formations which were actually a series of caves. Katya had built these with magic so that people could walk through and view the creatures that preferred the dark. To the animals, they were simply their preferred habitat of caves, but the long tunnel that ran through them lit by a line soft glow of light was clearly man-made. The Princess was sure to bring the foreigners through this section as it was one of her favorites. She found the soft glowing light that many of the creatures put off to be mystifying. The almost complete darkness would also give Rhys the cover he needed.

Before moving towards the caves, he swiftly climbed a nearby tree. From this vantage, he could just barely make out the entrance to the park, where many hurrying bodies told him that the party had arrived. He jumped down from the tree and slunk around the edge of the cave. There were a few spots where it opened to the outside, and though it was a tight squeeze, Rhys chose to use one of these rather than risk being seen using the normal entrance. Pressing his back against a mossy section, he squeezed sideways, inching his way into one of these openings. After a few feet, he became stuck and struggled to free himself. He could hear voices echoing off the stone walls.

Holding his breath, he gave a great shove and broke free, landing on a ledge just above the pathway in blackness. He held still, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, and listened for sounds of the party's approach. Footsteps echoed distantly.

Moments later, several guards appeared waving torches around, glaring around the caves this way and that. Rhys slunk farther back into his hiding spot and held a black clad arm over his face. The light of the torches moved on and voices could be heard over the footfalls.

"Many of these creatures have beautiful light displays, like the twinkling of firebugs, but brighter and more intense. They are really quite spectacular."

As Phoenix spoke, one of the creatures nearby deigned to demonstrate for her, and several people gasped at the display. Light bounced over the cave walls and sparkled where there were metals and gems embedded in the stone. The quick burst of light also served to pinpoint for Rhys where his target was. He chose the foreigner nearest to him and mentally marked where the man's purse was. If he was lucky, they would move a few feet forward and pause to admire the creatures for a little longer.

Luck was with him as he heard several footsteps, and then they stopped. The party held their breath in anticipation of another light show. Rhys moved silently to the edge of the ledge and wedged his feet into the stones on the wall so that he could anchor himself by his legs. Carefully, he began to lower his top half backwards so that he was hanging upside-down parallel to the wall and his prize. This way, he could reach sideways to grab the purse and then use the wall to help vault him back up. Suddenly, he felt something nudge his foot. It was all he could do to keep from jerking away or making a sound.

He abandoned his mission and drew himself back up fully onto the ledge. One of the light creatures was nosing around his legs. As Rhys sat up, the creature padded over and started trying to flip open his pouch. Rhys froze. All the little thing had to do was decide to light up right at that moment, and he'd be caught. There was a whole party of people directly below him just waiting to see it.

Very carefully, Rhys reached down and took the rest of the bread out of the pouch. The animal followed his hand like a hawk, and Rhys quickly tossed it as far away from himself as he could. Then he rolled over and threw his arms over his head once more. Bright light filled the cavern and the awed gasps sounded once more below. He waited for sounds that he had been spotted, but none came.

"Do you have creatures like this in the wild here?" one of the heralds asked, and Rhys immediately honed in on the voice, shoving his feet back into position and lowering himself towards it.

"No," Phoenix replied. "These are all creatures who were altered during a dark time in our past. Such experimentation is no longer allowed, and these are all beasts who were saved from a life of pain to come live here."

Rhys reached carefully through the robes of the herald, biting his lip, and found the purse. With infinite patience, he pulled on the cord to open it. The swishing sounds of movement were his only warning that the man was about to resume walking with the rest of the party. Rhys made a quick grab, and his hand closed over something smooth and cold. He withdrew hastily, quietly moving deeper into the cave.

He waited a few minutes, perched up on the ledge while listening to the retreating steps. When all he heard was silence, he squeezed carefully back through the crevice leaving outside. He blinked his eyes a few times to readjust to the sunlight and looked down at his hand. It was a vial of some sort of greenish liquid. The glass was corked with a pewter decoration, like many vines wrapping around the lid. Otherwise, it was unmarked. Rhys swore under his breath. This could potentially be one of the potions that they spoke about their mysterious Alchemist making for them. In which case, depending on what it was, it could be priceless. But without knowing what it did, it was worth next to nothing. Rhys shoved it into his own now-empty purse. Not only had he gained nothing, but he'd lost his lunch to the light creature.

Grumbling to himself, he stomped back along the path to the gates. At the entrance, the guards hailed him once more.

"Did you see the Princess, Master Rhys?" one asked, recognizing him.

"No," Rhys replied truthfully – it had been too dark to actually see her. "Was she here?"

"Aye," the guard nodded, looking smug that he had a piece of gossip to pass along. "She was here showing the visitors the place. They've got a strange look about them, don't you think?"

"I'm sure we look strange to them as well," Rhys commented, but kept walking as he passed, not in the mood to get caught up in a conversation with the guards about the foreigners. He made sure he waved a friendly good-bye, however, as guards were an excellent source of information.

He was so caught up in his annoyance over his failed attempt, that he didn't even notice when a pair of clomping footsteps rounded a corner and fell into pace behind him. As he thought about the possible potion in his purse, he decided that maybe he could get someone to identify it, thereby making it worth something to sell to Jak. Or more likely, sell to someone else and pay off Jak. The man wasn't known for his skill with magic.

Lost in his thoughts, Rhys still didn't notice as he slipped into an abandoned alleyway that the footsteps followed – until it was too late. As soon as he realized his mistake, he stopped and slowly turned to face his followers. It was Jessup and another of Jak's enforcers that Rhys didn't recognize.

Groaning inwardly, and cringing involuntarily where the pain in his bruised ribs still persisted, he met Jessup's eye. The man was grinning at him menacingly.

"Afternoon, Rhys," the thug grunted at him. "You've been a hard man to find lately."

Jessup slapped the large polished stick he was carrying into his palm a few times. The brute with him chuckled humorlessly, shifting his grip on a section of chain hanging from his hand.

"I've been busy," Rhys replied distracted. His eyes darted around the alleyway for a means of escape. He didn't mean to stick around for another beating.

Jessup moved fast, reaching towards his purse. Rhys responded by spinning out of the way. The other man lifted his arm to start an arc with his chain, building up speed to send it at Rhys.

Rhys lunged outwards and grabbed hold of it himself, using his momentum to carry himself along the arc, and running along the wall. Instead of letting go of the chain which would have sent Rhys flying, the brute stubbornly held fast, letting him wrap it around the thug's neck. Putting his whole weight behind it, Rhys held the two ends of chain tight. The man's face turned red and his temples bulged.

Jessup had recovered from his surprise at Rhys's sudden movement and apparent disbelief in his actions, and he balled up a fist to aim at Rhys's head. Rhys ducked out of the way and threw his weight sideways so that the strangling thug staggered to the right, putting his jaw directly in line with Jessup's blow.

The thug collapsed slowly to the ground, out cold from the combination of lack of airflow and the punch, and Rhys loosened the chain so that the man would be able to breathe once more as he leapt off him. He faced Jessup in a crouching position, carefully watching the movement of the club in his hand, and deftly sidestepped several passes that the larger man made at him. Maneuvering the man around so that he had his back up against a fence in between two alleys, Rhys waited until Jessup swung before he rushed at him. Jumping up onto a barrel next to the man, Rhys then vaulted off his bulk and up over the fence.

Jessup's hand raked at his fleeing form, and Rhys felt his paw close over his purse. With a moment's regret, he released the purse, allowing Jessup to take the mystery bottle so he could escape. _It was probably worthless anyway_.

Rhys hit the ground on the opposite side of the fence roughly, but he'd gotten away without even a scrape. That must be a record for a run-in with Jak's boys. Unfortunately, next time he'd probably get it twice as bad even if he had the money.

He raced back to the palace, though he avoided the main roads which added a few minutes. Jessup knew Rhys would immediately seek the safety of its walls so the added time made him nervous, but he figured it was safer than running into even more of Jak's men. He was now fully aware of his surroundings, but no other thugs emerged from the shadows. As he passed by the guards and glanced back over his shoulder one final time, he saw Jessup and the other thug – looking rather worse for wear – stumbling out of an alley. They stood there glaring at him from across the street. They wouldn't dare attack him in the open, especially not in front of the guards, but Rhys knew he was in for it.

He moved faster through the courtyard, only slowing when the door shut with finality behind him. He gave a sigh of relief. But it proved to be short-lived. A servant hurried up to him.

"Master Rhys," the boy said, slightly out of breath himself, "the Queen requires your presence in the Great Hall."

*

Wren pushed a branch out of his way, only to have it slip loose and snap back. It hit him squarely in the forehead. "Ow!" he exclaimed, holding a palm to the place where it stung and using his other to roughly push it away again. Ducking underneath the branch this time, and still holding his head, he carefully made his way down the steep embankment to the pool where he met with Lise.

"Hello?" he called at the bottom, looking around.

The clear water of the pool sent rippling trails of light dancing around the forest. He set his bag on the ground and sat down next to it to wait. After a moment, he rummaged around inside the bag and drew out a small hatchet. He got to his feet and began hacking away at young saplings to start a fire.

When he had a satisfying pile, he put in a bit of tinder and struck his firestones together. Several tries later, he had a flame going. He blew on the tiny fire, feeding it smaller twigs as he had seen Rhys do when the younger boy had dragged him out camping in their younger days. When it seemed as though it would continue to burn on its own, he left it to take out the rest of his supplies from the bag. He took out two mugs and a leather pouch of a special concoction he'd gotten his mother to make.

Smoke filled the air, making Wren cough and hack uncontrollably. He backed hastily away from his fire, staring at it in disbelief as smoke poured out of it. He rushed forward, fanning at it with his hands, trying to make the flame catch better and stop the smoke, but it only resulted in more smoke.

He heard laughter behind him, and he whirled around. Lise stood there watching him, an amused glint in her eye.

"Were you trying to signal me?" she asked innocently.

"I, er – " Wren began. "Well, it seems to have worked."

Lise tittered behind her hand again. "It would seem so. I could hardly ignore such a thing. I thought the forest might be burning down." She paused and looked around as if checking to see if anyone could overhear them before whispering loudly, "You have to use dry wood," she told him with a wink. "The wet stuff is really smoky." She spied the two mugs and the pouch on the ground. "What are you up to?" she asked, bending gracefully and retrieving one of the cups. She held it out to him, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a surprise," he told her, taking the cup from her outstretched hand and setting it back down on the ground. "You'll see as soon as I get this fire straightened out."

Lise helped him get the smoke under control and once they had a more civilized flame going, Wren poured water from his bag into each of the mugs and set them over the fire to heat.

Lise watched him curiously but didn't ask for further explanation. When the water began to bubble, Wren carefully removed the mugs and poured half the contents of the pouch into each cup, stirring with a spoon. The water turned a thick smooth muddy color. Both of Lise's eyebrows were now sky-high.

"Is that..." she began, grabbing at the mug greedily as Wren handed it to her.

"Careful; it's hot," Wren warned, smiling at her enthusiasm.

Lise paused only long enough to blow on the top of the contents, using the brisk forest air to chill the beverage, before taking a dainty sip. "Mmm," she moaned in appreciation as the warm liquid slid down her throat. "Is this hot chocolate?"

"Mmm-hmm," Wren agreed, "with a touch of mint. It's my mother's famous recipe. The chocolate is difficult to come by, but my father is really into plants. I thought..."

"You thought you'd put me under your chocolate spell?" Lise asked, giggling.

She wrapped both hands around the mug, warming them, and let it sit for a moment. Wren came to sit next to her, and they sat in silence for a long moment, gazing up through the clearing at the sky.

"How are things going for the Princess?" Lise asked after a while.

Wren tilted his head from side to side. "People still seem to be falling for the rumors." He pondered a minute. "I suppose that those who don't actually spend any time with her personally can't really be blamed for believing something that they're told about a person they don't know, but it would be nice to think that they would give her the benefit of the doubt, especially because she's the Princess. Not to mention what she did for the people."

"What has she done?"

"You don't know?"

Lise smiled. "I spend most my time in these woods. I try not to concern myself with the goings-on of the rest of society."

"You must be pretty secluded," Wren couldn't stop himself from commenting. A person would have to be very out of touch to have not heard about the Princess's sacrifice.

"I am lucky enough to have inherited a small plot of land where I have made my home." She glanced at him shyly through her eyelashes. "I have no family left so have chosen to live a life alone. Before meeting you, I had not been in contact with people for many years."

Wren nodded, gratified that she had chosen to share the rare glimpse into her personal life. _Alone with no husband_ , he thought happily. To Lise, he said, "Although Phoenix was a baby and didn't exactly make the choice, she sacrificed her talent so that the great plague – the Bricrui – could be stopped."

Lise interjected. "I do remember hearing about that."

"After that, she had the uncanny knack for knowing the right thing to do and say – exactly what she is being castigated for now. And everyone is forgetting all the good it did. Not to mention that she heals people."

"She does?"

"At least, that's what we think. My mother says it's a side-effect of the spell to heal the Bricrui; that part of that spell was interwoven into her very being so that even though she no longer has talent, she's still able to help heal wounds. No one has ever been able to detect it, but cuts mysteriously stop bleeding in her presence, and sickness seems to clear up miraculously."

"Did she ever use this for the people?" Lise asked.

Wren didn't answer right away. "Yes and no," and replied. "She spent as much time as she was able visiting the infirmaries around the city and beyond, on the slim chance that it was actually her doing it. With her schedule as the Princess, though, there was only so much time she could spend in the presence of the ill in the wild hope that she might be doing them some good simply by being there. Without being able to prove it, it would sound rather awkward to have claimed."

"I suppose so," Lise answered thoughtfully. "Did the Queen ever try and train her daughter's ability?"

"The King and Queen did everything they could to try and find a way to get Phoenix's magic back, or find any facet of it still in existence." He shook his head in pity. "I swear they still feel guilty for having taken away her talent."

"As any parent would," Lise nodded. "I cannot imagine." She took another sip of her hot chocolate, by now cooled to the point of being comfortable to drink.

Wren turned his attention to his own beverage and managed to down almost half of it before she spoke again.

"How go your studies? Is your paper progressing? Hopefully your other projects are going better than our search for a unicorn." She winked at him.

Wren smiled. The woman seemed genuinely interested in his work, a rare thing for his line of study, and he dove into the subject with abandon.

When they had exhausted all avenues of his latest project, exploring and debating the issues along with it, they sat in silence once more. Wren was impressed by Lise's knowledge, especially for one who lived so far away from the city and seemed content to spend her time wandering the woods. Her sharp mind countered many of his theories, pointing out inconsistencies and forcing him to further delve into the mysteries to find answers to her probing questions. She seemed to have a unique view of times long past. There was no doubt she was making him a better scholar.

He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye. The beautiful curve of her chin that held those sumptuous lips that challenged him. The eyes that laughed with girlish amusement at his antics, yet held so much wisdom beyond. _A better scholar indeed. And no doubt a better man._ He leaned towards her, his courage bolstered by the romantic gesture of chocolate and the engaging conversation. He watched her, moving to go in for a kiss.

She turned towards him but then suddenly looked down. "I'm afraid I must go now," she said, interrupting his forward motion with a hand on his chest. She stood and was across the clearing before he registered that she was leaving. She paused at the edge of the woods and looked back.

"I don't know if it's a good idea for me to come back here anymore," Lise said, not meeting his eye.

"Why not?" he asked, flustered by her sudden change.

"It's not good for either of us."

"Don't you enjoy spending time with me?"

"Of course," she said, lifting her eyes to finally meet his. "I enjoy it too much. That's why you won't find me again." She whirled away, her skirts billowing out around her as she disappeared into the woods.

Wren raced to follow her, to try and talk some reason into her, but she was gone. "Lise!" he called into the empty trees, but there was no response. He spent close to an hour waiting in the clearing, hoping that she'd change her mind, but she didn't return.

Finally, as the light through the treetops thinned and threatened to leave him stranded in the forest for the night, he gathered his things. He picked up the cup she had used, staring down at it morosely. The last remnants of chocolate congealed at the bottom, making a shape like a horse leaping. _Leaping to get away from something...apparently me_ , he thought glumly and stuffed it into his bag.

The walk home seemed longer, his thoughts heavy on his mind. Wren was in an even worse mood as he arrived at the city, contemplating the possible reason she could have for not seeing him anymore. The most likely reason he could think of was that she lied and was really actually married. His mood lowered even more. He tried to convince himself that maybe she needed him to rescue her from some horrible situation. Maybe, her saying that she couldn't see him anymore was really a cry for help. _Maybe..._

Wren strode into the palace, still lost in thought, and almost ran into the servant girl who was rushing towards him.

"Master Wren," she paused to curtsy to him. "Please come to the Great Hall. There's been an incident and your presence has been requested."

"What kind of incident?" he asked, wondering what it could possibly be that he would be summoned for. He had a sudden horrible thought and his heart leapt to his throat. "Are my parents alright?"

The girl looked flustered. "What? Oh, yes, Lady Katrina and Lord Aaron are fine. I don't know what the details are, only that you need to go there. The whole court has been summoned."

He hustled along the hallways and creaked open the doors to the great hall. There was already a crowd inside. It looked as though every courtier in presence was jammed in. The Queen was currently listening to a young man, who was holding his hat to his chest and had his eyes glued to the floor.

Wren spied his mother and pushed his way through the crowd to get to her side. She reached out a hand to him as he neared and squeezed his in her own.

"There's been an attack," she whispered to him, "and an accusation has been made against the Princess."

"What?" Wren choked loudly, earning him glares from several people around them who were straining to hear what was going on in front. Wren lowered his voice. "What do you mean?"

"A man was found collapsed earlier today," his mother murmured into his ear, keeping an eye around them, "and the healers believe that he's been put into some sort of coma by an attack to his mind. They can't bring him out of it."

"Why would the Princess be blamed for that?" Before the question had passed his lips, he realized the answer. The rumors that were being spread were about her ability to get into people's minds. It wouldn't be a far leap to get to believing that she could actually manipulate and attack one's mind too.

Katrina saw understanding register on his face and gave him a pointed look. She glanced up at the boy in front of the Queen. "That's the stable-boy who saw Phoenix around the time of the attack. The Queen is trying to determine whether or not someone can account for the Princess's whereabouts."

"That's absurd. She should just tell people how ridiculous it is to think that Phoenix had something to do with it; she would never!"

"We know that, but having an alibi for the time in question would put even the doubters' minds to rest."

"I suppose," Wren muttered noncommittally. He turned his attention to the boy, who was now rubbing his toe into the stone floor as if squashing something into it.

"She left 'round morning meal," he was saying.

"And did anyone accompany her?"

The boy squished his toe some more. He seemed to be warring with himself. After a long moment he answered, "Not for that ride." He finally looked up at the Queen and added almost pleadingly, "But she was back soon after and then the visitors joined her for a tour through the city."

Wren could tell that it was difficult for the boy to admit that she was alone during that time. As one who saw the Princess frequently for her daily rides, no doubt he knew better than to believe the nonsense that was being said about her, and it pained him that the truth would not prove her innocence. Not that it disproved it either, but in the eyes of the nobles, it was enough to prolong their suspicion.

The Queen closed her eyes for a split second longer than a blink, but her expression did not change. "Thank you, Robert," she dismissed the boy. He scurried away, obviously glad to be out of the center of attention. The Queen turned her attention to a nobleman standing in the front of the crowd. "Baron Winters, you realize that such an accusation is an extremely serious matter." It was a statement rather than a question.

The man chose to answer it regardless. "The fact that someone was attacked through mind-magic – witchery! – is a serious matter, Your Highness. You know as well as I that there have been suspicious rumors floating around."

The Princess was standing behind her mother, her expression carefully controlled, but Wren could see the pain in her eyes. His anger towards her softened a bit. He tried to catch her eye to smile at her so that she would know that she had a friend in the crowd, but she refused to look at anyone in particular.

Wren knew that the Queen was in a difficult position. She would be forced to investigate the matter, but doing so would make it seem to many as though Phoenix was already guilty. She finally spoke.

"They are only that: Rumors. The Princess has done nothing wrong," the Queen said, holding up her hand to stop the outburst from the man. "I don't think any would argue that she certainly would not harm someone knowingly." The look she gave the man made it clear that if he continued to accuse her daughter, he'd better not be saying that she had malicious intent. The Queen went on, "However, in the face of these matters, I have no choice but to ask my daughter to remain in her quarters during the course of a formal investigation." She nodded, and Phoenix left her side, making her way through the courtiers towards the royal suites. Though their presence was usual for the Princess, the entourage of guards that followed in her wake seemed somehow more meaningful.

Wren watched her go, and then saw a familiar face across the court. Rhys met his eye and the two boys exchanged an incredulous look. This was not good.
CHAPTER 7

Phoenix held back tears as she made her way to her rooms through the palace hallways. Since she had to be the first to leave the court, all eyes were upon her in her passing. Even out in the halls it seemed that everyone seemed to know what had transpired. The servants whispered to one another, and lords and ladies paused to watch her pass.

Once back in her room, Phoenix dismissed all of her entourage save for Natalya and Alina before breaking down into tears. Natalya's comforting hand rested on her shoulder, and Phoenix turned into her, embracing the older woman with fervor.

"Shh," Natalya soothed her. "I know you didn't do anything wrong." She stroked Phoenix's hair while the Princess sobbed into the woman's tunic. Alina stood by silently.

The door banged open suddenly, and Phoenix quickly drew away from Natalya in surprise. She hastily wiped away tears as she looked to see who it was. Seeing that it was only her mother, her tears started anew. She left Natalya in favor of her mother's embrace. Layna's protective hug calmed Phoenix, and after a few more minutes of hysteria, she was finally able to draw away. She still gasped in short erratic breaths, her emotions high from crying, but she wiped away the last of the tears.

"I swear I didn't do it, Mother," she said when she could speak again.

Her mother's face softened. "I know that. Not only do I know you well enough to not have any doubt that you would never hurt someone in such a way, but I have also examined the victim." Her expression turned thoughtful. "There was definitely an aura of magic about him. It is fairly obvious that he was indeed attacked by one whose talent was strong enough to allow them to penetrate into the very mind of another and force their energy into it. Your father and I have both sworn up and down to the investigators that it is not your aura. However," she gazed into her daughter's eyes sadly, "a parent's word in an investigation such as this is in question, even when those parents are the monarchs." She paused and added wryly, "An amendment to the laws that I added myself, as luck would have it." Her face hardened. "I would take it back if it meant I wouldn't have had to put you through this."

"Don't say that, Mother," Phoenix admonished. "I know you don't mean it. I'll be fine. It's what needs to be done." She put on a brave face.

Her mother sighed, "You're right, of course. But it still would be nice to be able to just tell them all as the Queen that my daughter would never do such a thing."

"We shall just have to prove it."

"And we will," Layna promised, kissing her daughter on top of the head. She put her hands on Phoenix's shoulders and examined her at arm's length. "Are you alright?" she asked, waiting a moment for Phoenix's nod. "I will help you more by finding who really did this rather than being here with you, but I don't want you to feel alone or abandoned."

Phoenix nodded her head firmly. "I know. Go. I have Natalya and Alina for company."

Layna glanced up at the two women and gave them a brief smile. "That you do." Then, addressing the two as she turned to leave she said, "Keep her well. I'll be back soon."

Phoenix sank down onto the couch after the door had clicked shut behind her mother. Now that the initial shock of having been accused had dulled, her mind began to whirl. A courtier attacked with magic. She looked up at Natalya. "Do you know who it was that was attacked?" she asked.

"I believe that it was Lord Havensford, Your Majesty."

"Lord Havensford," Phoenix repeated, puzzled. "Why would someone attack him? Forgive my bluntness, but he's not exactly in a position of wealth or power that would prompt such an attack, is he?"

"Not that I know of, Princess. Perhaps it was nothing more than a lovers' quarrel gone horribly wrong."

Phoenix thought for a moment. "Or perhaps he was in the wrong place at the wrong time," she offered. "And saw something he wasn't supposed to see." She was silent for a long moment, her mind spinning through possibilities. "It's possible he even did it to himself. If he had a latent talent he wasn't aware of that suddenly emerged it could have damaged his mind."

"Indeed, Princess, and whatever it is, I'm sure that your mother will uncover the truth."

A knock sounded at the door. At Phoenix's nod, Natalya went to see who it was. She cracked the door open, spoke to the person, then shut it again to turn to Phoenix. "Lord Gavin and Mistress Regina are here and wish to speak with you. Are you able to see them?"

Phoenix nodded. As soon as the door was opened again and their entrance was permitted, Regina burst into the room. She threw her arms around her friend and squeezed her so tightly that Phoenix thought she might burst. "Oh, Phoebe!" she exclaimed. "I couldn't believe the horrible things that man accused you of! I know you would never do something like that!"

Gavin was more reserved, walking calmly into the room and giving her a sympathetic look. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Phoenix waved off both his question and Regina's hugs. "I'm fine," she stated resolutely, holding back any tears that even thought about trying to come forward. "I only hope that nobody takes my mother's actions in the wrong way."

Gavin shook his head. "Everyone understands that she had no choice. Under her own laws she must look into the accusations against you. The people will respect the both of you more for abiding by these laws."

Phoenix smiled gratefully at him. "So do either of you know anything about it? Natalya said that it was Lord Havensford who was attacked, but I can't for the life of me imagine what possible motivation someone could have to do so."

"It's horrible, just horrible!" Regina said. "Who would do such a thing with _any_ motivation?"

"Well, incapacitating him certainly won't gain anyone anything for the usual reasons – money or power – so I would guess that he either knows something secret or it was an accident," Gavin offered. He seemed rather distracted.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Regina asked.

Phoenix and Gavin were both silent. Phoenix had seen someone in a similar state before – the healers had called it a coma – though this one had been brought on by a physical blow to the head. At the time, they had said that there was no way to know whether or not the mind would be able to come out of it ever, let alone pin down a time frame. That little boy had woken up in a matter of weeks, but the healers had called it a miracle.

Phoenix changed the subject. "So do you two know each other?" she asked.

"A little," Regina replied for both of them. "We've met during classes. We were paired up for one of the tribal exercises." She giggled. "You should have seen his face when Petra came in and flew around for us."

Phoenix smiled, but didn't laugh – she was hardly in the mood. Gavin's expression did not look like he would take being laughed at well anyway; she sensed that something was upsetting him. Instead she said, "I think it's a surprise for everyone seeing that for the first time. When did you first see her?" she asked Regina.

"A few years ago," Regina admitted, her fun at Gavin's expense foiled by Phoenix forcing her to admit that she had prior knowledge of Petra's unique abilities. "She was here for the Queen, but she stopped by the classes then too to speak about diversity and acceptance." Having been ousted, she confessed to Gavin, "I was pretty surprised when her pretty cloak suddenly separated into two wings and she jumped into the air and stayed there." She looked out the window wistfully, "I spent weeks wishing that I had been born in the Tribes."

"Except that you'd be just as likely to have been born with a pig's face," Gavin put in, obviously remembering their run-in with Arnie.

"Indeed," Regina sighed. "And besides, who would give up living at the palace?" She tore her eyes from the landscape beyond and focused on Gavin, looking uncomfortable. She was no doubt realizing that this privilege had not been granted to him, and she quickly changed the subject. "How are you enjoying your stay?"

He hesitated a moment, "It's been good," he said finally, without conviction.

"Is everything alright?" Phoenix asked.

Gavin looked from her to Regina and then sighed. "My parents have been arguing a lot since we got here. My father had been spending the majority of his time living with me while my mother was here. At first I thought it was just because he wanted to be near me, but now I think it was more so that he didn't have to be with her. It's put a damper on things to say the least."

Regina patted his hand. "My parents fight all the time, too, but they always make up,. Don't worry. And don't let it ruin your stay! Surely there's something you love about being here?"

Gavin glanced at Phoenix. "Well," he agreed, "I have definitely met a lot of interesting people. And it seems like there's always something going on."

"Yes, and you've been getting more training for your talent as well, haven't you?" Regina asked, but then immediately fell silent. Both she and Gavin glanced at Phoenix worriedly.

"That's wonderful!" Phoenix exclaimed, ignoring their sympathetic looks. It was a similar reaction with most people – they all tended to avoid the subject of talent with her as though it was their fault that hers had been sacrificed. Which in a way, she supposed it was, but she certainly didn't blame anyone for it. At times she wished she could do the magical things her parents could, but she tried not to let it bother her. It wasn't as if she was the only person to lack the talent to control the power. "I didn't know you had talent."

"A tiny bit," Gavin said humbly.

"Have you learned anything exciting?" she asked.

"Not really," he said, though his eyes twinkled with excitement, his earlier discomfort over his parents' fighting evaporating. "But I can do this." He held out his hand and there was a pop and a fizzle. He concentrated harder and there was a louder pop, and suddenly a flower appeared in his hand. He handed it to Phoenix. "It was supposed to be a rose..." he said, wrinkling his nose in embarrassment.

"It's beautiful," Phoenix said, taking the flower. It was missing several petals, and vaguely resembled a carnation, though the remaining petals were beginning to shrivel and dry, making it hard to recognize.

The three of them sat in awkward silence for a few moments, with Regina making faces at her behind Gavin's back. She kept smiling knowingly and nodding to Gavin, winking at Phoenix, obviously thinking her teasing was subtle and horribly failing. Natalya saved her by suggesting that perhaps it was time for Phoenix to retire.

After her friends had left, Alisha came in to draw a bath for Phoenix and help prepare her for bed. Phoenix was gratified to learn that Alisha, and apparently all the servants, had found it insulting that Princess Phoenix was being investigated and assured her that not one of them believed the outrageous claims. The maid was surprisingly dismissive of the subject, sure that Phoenix's name would be cleared in no time. Instead, the girl apparently found it more interesting to discuss the Princess's love life.

As Alisha lifted the chemise up over Phoenix's head, the maid spoke at an opportune time – while Phoenix's mouth was too smothered in cloth to protest. "Lord Gavin is quite handsome." She spoke hurriedly, in order to get it all out before Phoenix regained her ability to speak. "It's a shame he's only here for such a short visit, any longer and your coronation combining the sections that Queen Layna and First Advisor Aria control could be more than we planned."

Phoenix's response was muffled. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." She slipped the rest of the way out of her clothes and stepped into the bath. Ignoring the slight pain from the overly-warm water, she ducked her head underneath, shutting out whatever else her impudent maid had to say.

As she surfaced, she saw the girl's impish smile as she gathered Phoenix's dirty clothes. She winked at her as she left the room, closing the door behind her. Phoenix sighed. She supposed that Alisha was right. There would be a certain poetry to her and Gavin ending up together. She scrunched her nose in distaste and wondered if that had been her mother's plan all along. She closed her eyes again and sank into the water. _My mother wouldn't do that_ , she finally decided. _Lady Aria on the other hand_...

Some time later, Alisha returned with clean night clothes and helped Phoenix prepare for bed without another word on the subject. Phoenix asked how the investigation was going, but so far, there had been no news.

Sighing yet again, Phoenix sank into her bed and burrowed her face into her pillow. Hopefully things would look brighter in the morning.

*

It was long after sunset that Rhys finally gave up waiting by the wool mill. Obviously his contact was not going to show. Discouraged, he made his way back to the palace. Almost as soon as he had entered, he was approached by one of the Queen's personal guards.

"The Queen would like to speak with you immediately, Master Rhys. She is in her quarters. I will escort you."

Rhys knocked nervously on the door to the Queen's suite. Being summoned to her quarters in the middle of night was knotting his stomach. After the unfortunate news and resulting accusation of this afternoon, he could only guess what she wanted him for.

"Ah, Rhys, thank you for coming so quickly," she said as she opened the door for him. She glanced hurriedly around the hallway while he bowed shortly and entered the room. The guard who had escorted him gave the Queen a nod and resumed his post at her door.

"Of course, Your Majesty," he replied, waiting for her to speak.

"As you are no doubt aware, my daughter has been accused of having something to do with Lord Havensford's attack." She paused, her eyes searching his for confirmation, and he gave a small nod. She continued, "The royal investigators are handling the matter, but I am not allowed to be involved."

Rhys waited patiently for her to get to the point.

"But I'm not good at just standing by while my daughter is in trouble. If, say, one of the young men with whom my daughter associates felt the need to look into it himself, how could I stop him? I would not be against someone finding out what's been discovered in the investigation – discreetly – and perhaps even doing a little digging of their own. I cannot for the life of me figure out why the man would have been the subject of an attack, and such information could give us the clues we need to find the real culprit behind it."

Rhys bowed again. "I understand, Your Majesty."

"Good," Queen Layna said, her voice low. "But do not get caught."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Rhys answered wryly.

She looked down at her desk at a small package that sat there. Rhys had noticed it immediately, but was trying not to stare at it. "You see the package on the desk?" she asked.

"Yes."

"It contains fifty gold coins." She locked eyes with him. "I am going to go look out the window now, and I'm quite sure that I wouldn't notice if the package somehow disappeared."

She turned away and walked to the window as she'd promised. Rhys hesitated a moment; he didn't fully trust his assessment of her meaning and would hate to get caught stealing from the Queen if that wasn't really her intention. And he would help Phoenix without the money. But it would help stave off the beating he was sure to receive after evading Jessup. He reached forward and snatched it from the table and quickly tucked it into his shirt.

"I assure you," the Queen added as she turned back to him, completely ignoring the missing package, "that it is ridiculous that the Princess would do such a thing."

"You don't have to convince me, Your Majesty," he said, making it clear that he had no doubt of her innocence. The Queen nodded.

Rhys paused a moment before asking. "Why do you trust me, Your Majesty?" Knowing all she did about his less-than-stellar track record, he found it astonishing that she was putting so much faith in him.

She smiled. "I may count the coins in my purse when you leave, my dear Rhys, but I have no question about the good in your heart. You will do what is right, especially concerning my daughter."

Leaving her with a final bow, he exited her chambers. The Queen needn't have asked him to look into the matter as he had already begun making inquires. But now, with the Queen's implied approval, he felt better about breaking into a few rooms. Not that the slight guilt he felt would have stopped him anyway, but he still felt better knowing that he was now working with the Queen's support. Though he respected her decision to abide by the laws herself and allow the royal investigators to make inquires, he would have been disappointed in her had she not had some sort of back-up to ensure Phoenix's best protection.

The pounding steps of guards echoed along the stone walls, and Rhys ducked behind a statue to allow them to pass. No need to have any of them report him being out and about so late at night. He already had enough people suspicious of him.

He waited until the footsteps were faint before emerging from his hiding spot and stepping lithely down the hallway towards the outlying rooms. These were reserved for the visiting lords and ladies from outlying districts when they came for extended stays at the royal court. Lord Havensford's room was among them, though the lord himself was currently under guard in the infirmary.

The man's room was guarded as well, two men stood stationed outside, their hard faces peering around warily. The flickering light from the candles on the walls accentuated their features, making them look all the more intimidating.

Rhys paused around the corner, peeking out at them. They did not look like ones who could be persuaded to let him pass. Nor did the set-up of the rooms offer him any sort of protection from prying eyes to slip past. The room itself was an internal one, so there would be no windows for him to climb in through. He tried to remember the secret passages that ran through this part of the palace, but to the extent of his knowledge, there were none. He sighed.

Retreating back around the corner and putting his back against the wall, he opened himself to the power. He hated to use up one of his very expensive charms, but it was worth it if it cleared Phoenix. Despite his mother's impressive talent, Rhys seemed to have inherited more of his father's talent, or rather lack thereof, for working with magic. But he did have enough to activate charms and spells that other people had prepared and even work some smaller spells of his own.

He whispered the word of power to the charm, holding it in front of him. It suddenly shimmered and disappeared. His hands followed suit, their outlines waving as though they were simply reflections in a rippling pool. Then they disappeared completely. His arms faded out next, the nothingness slowly creeping up to his core. It was an eerie feeling, seeing yourself disappear. Rhys had to look away as he grew queasy from the sight. A few moments later, he reopened his eyes and peered into the reflection in the shining suit of armor he'd been hiding behind. He saw nothing but the expanse of hallway beyond him.

He moved carefully into the hallway, waiting until the men's piercing gaze swept towards him, then past him without so much as a second glance. The charm was working. Very slowly, so as not to make a sound, he crept forward. With agonizing care, all the while lamenting the draining of the charm in the time it took him to do so, he laid a hand on the door's knob. With infinite patience, he turned it ever so slightly. The guards were positioned one on either side of the door, and Rhys glanced at each of them to make sure they hadn't noticed him. Even though they couldn't see him, if they thought something was amiss they would check inside and run straight into him. The charm did not make him intangible. He felt the latch unhinge and winced at the soft click it made. The guards didn't seem to notice. Rhys gently opened the door the tiniest bit. The two men would be sure to notice if he opened it so far that he could slip through, but he only needed it a fraction of an inch and the guards would do the rest.

He backed up a few paces and positioned himself to that he could see the room beyond the sliver of an opening. Then he raised his hand and touched the power. Concentrating all his efforts on a book sitting on the desk within, he willed it to move. The book teetered on the edge of the desk while sweat ran down Rhys's brow from the effort of controlling the power for this task. Finally, it tilted upwards, hanging in balance for a long moment before crashing to the ground below.

Both guards flew into action. One stood by the entrance while the other took hold of the knob and pushed the door open the rest of the way. He peered inside, his body blocking the doorway. Rhys sidled closer. The man opened the door farther and stepped inside, examining the room. Rhys slipped past him and into the room.

He stayed motionless while the guard searched the room thoroughly, only letting out a soft sigh of relief as the door clicked shut behind the guard as the man resumed his post. Whispering another word to the charm to save its power, his hands shimmered back into view. Once he'd reappeared, he set straight to work. He shuffled through the papers at the man's desk but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Letters to relatives back home in the southern section of the old Treymayne, a book on sight-seeing in the city, and an invitation to Phoenix's birthday party. There was a large blot of ink above the "i" where the writer's pen had obviously leaked a bit. Rhys picked this up and stared at the invitation a moment. _Poor Phoenix_. He was certain that the events that had transpired since that day were not her birthday wish.

Abandoning the desk, he moved on to the chest by the foot of the bed. He rifled through the clothing on top, looking for the more personal items usually kept below. A small dagger, a ring of his house's formal insignia, more useless papers. Rhys dropped everything back into the chest. Nothing out of the ordinary. He piled the clothes back on top and looked around the room, rubbing his chin.

Suddenly, a voice sounded outside the door.

"We've come to investigate the victim's quarters." There was a shuffling of papers as the investigators showed the guards their credentials in order to pass.

Rhys panicked. He dove behind the dresser before remembering his invisibility charm, which he quickly invoked. Then he maneuvered himself to the doorway to make his exit when it was opened for the investigators. He wasn't at all sure how long the charm would last, and he had no intention of being caught in the victim's quarters when it ran out.

Seeing his opportunity, he dashed out the clear doorway and into the hallway. His steps weren't completely silent, and one of the guards looked suspiciously down the passage. Seeing nothing, the guard did no more than glare into the empty space. Rhys wasted no time in putting as much distance as he could between himself and the guards before stepping behind a tapestry to become visible again. The charm sputtered, flared to life, and then died. Apparently, that had been the extent of it.

Rhys sighed. Wasted. He'd found nothing of use in the chambers whatsoever. He froze as raised voices could suddenly be heard growing nearer.

"You've always been like this, I was just naïve enough to think that you would change," a woman's voice accused another.

"What exactly did you think would change, hmm?"

"Well, I thought you might stop," she answered exasperatedly.

Rhys tried not to breathe as the speakers passed, still arguing. He peeked out around the edge of the tapestry and confirmed his suspicion. The female voice sounded familiar indeed. It was none other than the Lady Aria. The weasel-looking fellow must be her husband, Lord Noam. Rhys remembered seeing him from time to time at formal functions, but the two were rarely seen together otherwise. This must be why.

The conversation sparked his interest. The argument had obviously been started by something recently. Perhaps the lord had an appetite for other women. It was possible even that Lord Havensford had witnessed such a tryst and Noam had attempted to cover it up and been unsuccessful. Or perhaps the tryst had been with the Lord Havensford himself. That would certainly explain why the lord had no qualms about letting his beautiful wife live alone in the palace while he spent most of his time in the country with his boy.

But Lady Aria didn't have any talent. Rhys had no idea whether or not the lord did, and made a mental note to check on it. If Noam had attempted to quiet Havensford, even a simple mind-control to make the man forget such a tryst occurring could go wrong and potentially cause the coma. It was a possibility.

With the quarrelers safely out of sight, Rhys moved out from behind the tapestry and strolled nonchalantly down the hallway. _At least I have something to work on_ , he thought.

He rounded the corner and nearly ran into one of the heralds.

"Ah, young Master Rhys," Herald Siajan greeted him. "What has you out so late?"

"Couldn't sleep," Rhys replied. "I have a lot on my mind."

"You are a friend of the Princess, are you not?" the man stated. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "We heard of the difficulties she is facing. She is such a sweet girl; I do not see her being responsible for such an act."

"Nor do I," Rhys agreed.

"I wonder," the man began after a moment of awkward silence, "if you could point me in the direction of the gardens? I was on my way there to enjoy the night sky but seem to have gotten rather turned around."

"Of course," Rhys replied, offering up the directions. He distrustfully watched the man go. He had been wandering around the palace in search of the gardens this late?

Rhys changed his course and stepped lithely behind the herald. He stayed far enough behind to escape detection but didn't let the man get so far ahead that he would lose Rhys if he went off course. The man followed his directions perfectly, however, emerging into the gardens under the night sky. Instead of gazing upwards, though, the man glued his eyes to the ground. Rhys watched curiously as the man walked this way and that, stopping now and again to examine a plant.

After a while, he stopped in front of one and broke a branch off. The plant bent with a wet snapping sound, and the man quickly tucked the foliage away in his robes before glancing around and making a beeline for the doors to the palace. Obviously, he'd found what he'd come for.

Rhys abandoned tailing the herald, deciding instead to find what it was that the man had come here to find. He slunk forward, keeping his eyes on the spot that the man had left, and came to stand before the unknown plant. One branch among the many neatly-trimmed ones stood out where it had been ripped off. He looked down to try and determine what the plant was, but he was no expert. It was some kind of pretty flowering plant; that was the extent of his knowledge.

He looked around before tearing off another branch of the abused bush. Then he hurried away. Tomorrow he would take it to Wren's father, Lord Aaron, to see if he could identify it. If anyone knew what it was, he would.

*

Wren followed the now-familiar trail to the edge of the stream where he had met with Lise. The woods were quiet. He sat down next to the rushing water and dipped a finger in distractedly. A few minnows fought against the current to nibble at them. He moved and they darted away, seeming to fairly fly across the water.

After more than an hour, Lise still hadn't come. Usually, she didn't make him wait this long. He had convinced himself that she couldn't possibly have meant what she said. But he'd been wrong. Apparently, he'd said or done something to offend her, and now she didn't want to see him anymore.

He stood, tossing a stick he'd been playing with into the stream. He watched as it was carried away, bouncing against rocks and thrown around like a ragdoll. Sighing, he turned away and began the arduous trek homeward. At the edge of the clearing, he paused and looked back, hoping beyond hope that she'd suddenly appear like she had the habit of doing. She'd give him that knowing smile and ask where he was going.

But she didn't appear. Trudging home, Wren fought down the burning pain within him. He really liked this mysterious woman.

When he returned glumly to the palace and was arriving at his chamber, he saw with surprise that Rhys was approaching.

"Rhys, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"I was hoping that I could speak with your father," Rhys answered.

"Okay. Am I to take it from your presence here rather than at his chamber that you'd like me to go with you?"

Rhys grinned. "The last time I saw your father, I may have been sprinting away while he batted at me with a broom. I believe it was some sort of incident with a flower I thought would go lovely in a young maiden's hair that he'd apparently been saving for something special."

"Oh yes," Wren nodded, "I remember. He was furious for weeks about that. He'd been working on a hybrid rose to match the color of my mother's eyes for years and had finally come up with the right shade."

"Sorry about that," Rhys muttered.

Wren rolled his eyes. "Alright, let me just put this stuff down and we'll go see him."

Wren led the way to his parents' chambers. On the way, he asked about the Princess. "How is Phoenix holding up?"

Rhys gave him a knowing grin, which Wren ignored. "She's doing as well as can be expected I suppose. Unfortunately, not only is there the latest accusation about her, but the rumors are not lessening in the least. And they seem to be getting more and more specific. That incident when we were super-young where she missed a play due to a temper tantrum has been circulating around even though I'm pretty sure only a few people knew about that. Even more disturbing is that people know about the voices she used to hear in her head. You remember," Rhys asked, turning towards him and lowering his voice, "her imaginary friends?"

Wren nodded, the blood rushing from his face.

Rhys didn't notice. "Stories about specific incidents involving these voices are getting more detailed and more malicious. Whoever the instigators are, they are spreading it around like these voices were really her hearing the thoughts of others. You can only imagine how that sparked the accusation."

"Yes," Wren agreed, his mouth dry. Luckily, they reached his parent's chambers just at that moment, and he was spared replying further. When Wren knocked on the door, Aaron answered with a smile for him and a thin-lipped stern expression for his friend.

Rhys had the couth to look ashamed. After the usual pleasantries, his father got straight to the point.

"So I take it you're not here just for a visit," he asked, looking at Rhys.

"No, sir," the boy replied. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"And why, may I ask, would I want to do a favor for you, of all people?"

"Not for me, for the Princess."

His father was silent for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Very well. What can I do for her?"

Rhys pulled the plant out of his pocket. Wren suddenly understood his friend's reasoning for asking for Aaron's help. _Father is the master of all things in the plant kingdom_.

"Can you tell me what this is, and why someone might want it?"

Aaron took the branch from Rhys, eyeing the torn end with disapproval. He examined it a moment. "This is nightswort. It is used to calm the nerves. I often use it in my sleep aids."

"Are there any other uses for it?" Rhys pressed.

"None that I am aware of."

"How strong is it? Could it cause someone to actually fall asleep or used in high enough amounts cause someone to fall into a coma?"

Both Wren and Aaron saw where Rhys was going with this. Aaron shook his head sadly, "I'm afraid that this isn't your culprit. Other than help with anxiety, it will do no one any harm."

Rhys sighed. "He just couldn't sleep," he murmured under his breath. He stood, holding out his hand to Wren's father. "Thank you, sir, I appreciate your help."

Aaron took the offered hand and shook it. "I'm sorry I wasn't more helpful."

Rhys left the room and Aaron turned to Wren.

"And you, son? Are you staying for dinner?"

"I'd love to, Father, but I have something I need to take care of. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive," Aaron admonished, giving him a hug. "I know you have lots of important adult things to accomplish nowadays." There was an expression of hurt behind his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, and Wren felt a pang of guilt. However, a horrible thought had just sprung to mind that was too awful not to look into right away.

Hurrying towards the library, Wren barely noticed his surroundings. Lise had said she couldn't see him anymore because she "couldn't do it" anymore. Just what was "it"? How many people knew about Phoenix's imaginary friends? Eight? Ten? And he'd gone and told a strange woman in the woods. The story of the assassination attempt he'd shared was a rather large coincidence to have suddenly started running around the rumor mill. What if Lise had been playing him all along? How stupid he was to have trusted a beautiful woman who spent all her time wandering the forest.

He increased his pace, closing the distance between him and the shelf he was after in record time. He scanned the titles of the books until he found the one he was looking for. Pulling it from the shelf, he blew dust off the cover and cracked it open. He ran his finger down along page after page, searching.

Finally, he found it: a list of the houses that laid claim to that section of the forest. It gave the names of several woodcutters, an herbalist, and a few random names, but none that were Lise. And nothing that would suggest a lone maiden living anywhere around those parts. So who was she really?

He closed the book, sneezing as the dust billowed up into his face, and left the library. He made his way to one of the common rooms of the palace where someone was sure to be gathered, and searched for a face he knew. He spotted Regina, a pretty girl of high noble birth who still managed to be nice to everyone.

"Good evening, Regina," he greeted her politely.

"Wren," she nodded acknowledgement, "What brings you here?"

The question was a bit insulting – why wouldn't he be here? – but in fairness he rarely was, and she didn't seem to have meant it in offense. He simply answered, "I was hoping to ask some questions."

"About what?"

"Rather who," he replied. "Do you know anything about a lady by the name of Lise? She lives in the forest beyond the city of Bramsville."

Regina thought a moment. "No," she answered. "I've never heard of anyone living out there. The name certainly isn't familiar, so she can't be nobility. Otherwise I would know her."

Wren doubted the girl realized how stuck-up she sounded. Instead of pointing it out to her, he simply thanked her and moved on. He asked everyone in the room the same question, and received a roomful of the same answer. No one had ever heard of the name Lise, and no one could tell him who lived in that forest.

It was not altogether surprising since by her own admission she avoided people, but it was strange that not even one person had ever even heard of her. She had to come into town sometime, didn't she?

Unless, as he was beginning to suspect, she didn't really live there at all. Unless she was really only there to pry information out of him about the Princess Phoenix. Rhys's comments that the latest rumors involved the stories of Phoenix talking to her imaginary friends had sparked his first concerns. That information was not common knowledge to any but those who had grown up with her, and it wasn't something that you normally shared about the Princess. Except that he had shared it – with Lise – right before the rumors began incorporating this unfortunate tid-bit into its poison.

Was it possible that Lise had been using him all along to garner information for the traitors? Wren returned to his room with this unsettling thought and a very heavy heart.
CHAPTER 8

Princess Phoenix was dreaming. Colors swirled around, dancing shapes appearing and disappearing at random. Something nudged the dream, and Phoenix felt as though she was on the edge of a cliff. Something tugged her downwards, and as she stared down at the precipice, she didn't feel afraid. She fell forward, diving off the cliff and into the ocean of colors below. As her body slipped under the cool waves of color, emotions overwhelmed her. Frustration. Anger. Fear. She shivered at these. They were emotions not her own. A ripple of happiness rolled past and she clung to it. A voice suddenly sounded in her head. A voice that was not hers. "Princess," it echoed through the waves.

She woke.

"Princess," Dame Natalya said, "you were talking in your sleep. Is everything alright?"

Phoenix shoved off the feeling of annoyance at having been woken at that particular moment and nodded to Natalya. "I'm fine. Just a dream."

"What kind of dream?"

"I'm not sure..."

Phoenix tried to remember what the dream had been about, but the memories were fleeting. She murmured to herself and fingered the necklace around her neck.

Natalya was looking at her strangely. Phoenix waved off any questions before they could be formulated. "It was only a dream. I'm fine," she said firmly.

Putting the strange dream out of her mind, Phoenix pulled herself off the couch. She hadn't been sleeping well at night so had taken advantage of her exhaustion to take a quick nap. Even her few moments of sleep didn't help her feel any more rested.

All of a sudden, a loud knock sounded at the door. After announcing himself, Lord Gavin came marching into her quarters looking agitated and out of breath.

"Lord Gavin?" Phoenix greeted and queried.

"Hello, Phoenix," he replied, "I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, I just really wanted to be with someone."

"Is everything alright?"

Gavin glanced behind him. "Yes, everything is alright. I just – I just needed to get out of there."

He looked into her concerned eyes and took a deep breath. She motioned for him to come sit down, and he did so, taking several deep breaths until his breathing resume more normally.

"Where did you need to get out of?"

"I was – I overheard my parents fighting again," he finally spit out. "They were really going at it. And they were fighting about me."

"About you? Why?"

"They don't agree on my living situation." He smiled wryly, "The good news is, though, I might be getting to spend more time at the palace."

"Lady Aria wants you to live here with her?" Phoenix tried to keep the surprise out of her tone. The lady had seemed rather reluctant to be around her son, and at times downright uncomfortable.

"Apparently, she's suddenly feeling maternal," Gavin answered sourly. His earlier blasé attitude about the arrangement had obviously been hiding some resentment.

"Were you not planning on finishing the year out here anyway?"

"Yes," he agreed, "but it sounds as though she is pushing to cut out my father entirely and keep me here full-time."

Phoenix smiled sympathetically. "Well, I will enjoy seeing more of you," she said quietly.

Frantic knocking sounded at the door, interrupting the comfortable silence that had permeated the room moments before. Natalya's hand flew to her sword, and she glanced at Phoenix. The Princess gave a small nod, and the woman opened the door. A servant came rushing in, pausing in fright at the sight of Natalya's menacing stance.

"Your Majesty," Alisha cried, "there's been another attack, and your mother and the rest are on their way here now."

"Another attack," Phoenix repeated. "On whom?"

"I don't know," the woman replied, curtsying and then kneeling by her side. "But I wanted to warn you before they came..." she trailed off as agitated voices could be heard in the hallway. Alisha scurried off like a frightened mouse.

The door banged open and an older man marched angrily in. Natalya moved to stand between the intruder and the Princess, drawing her sword. A moment later, the Queen followed him in.

"It's all right, Natalya," the Queen said, sweeping into the room to place a hand protectively on Phoenix's shoulder. She turned to the man who had so rudely barged into the room in front of her. "You see? Here she is, not attacking people in the stables."

The man, who Phoenix now recognized as Baron Winters, eyed the Princess suspiciously. Turning his stare to Natalya he asked, "She's been here all day?"

"And all last night," Natalya nodded affirmatively. "The little lord has been with her most of the afternoon." She tilted her head towards Lord Gavin as she spoke.

"That's right," Gavin chimed in, eyes wide. "I've been here all afternoon with her, I swear it."

Queen Layna gave the baron her most chilling look. Her eyes seemed to pierce his very soul, and he dropped her gaze.

"I suppose she has been then," he mumbled.

The Queen turned back to Natalya. "Natalya, the Princess is no longer under house arrest. Allow her to come and go as she pleases."

"But," the baron began to protest, some of his anger returning.

"But nothing," Layna interrupted. "You've seen for yourself that she has had nothing to do with it."

"A magical attack of the mind does not necessarily need the person to be present," he stubbornly persisted.

Layna's voice grew cold. "Were we not just discussing the ramifications of the footprints? If nothing else, Baron Winters, locking her away in her suite has accomplished nothing. Natalya and Alina will stay with her at all times, but I won't lock her away any longer. There's been no evidence beyond your belief in rumors that she is guilty and there has been every indication that she has nothing at all to do with it."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Baron Winters did not argue further. He gave Phoenix a threatening glance before turning to leave. The others who had followed the confrontation left as well, until it was only the Queen and her personal guards in the room with them.

As the door clicked closed, Layna looked as though she itched to rush forward to her daughter, but her glance flicked to Gavin, and she remained where she was.

"What happened?" Phoenix asked softly.

The Queen sighed. "There's been another attack. A man was found in the stables, in similar state to the first. He's alive, but not responding to anything medical or magical. There was another set of footprints leading to the spot but which appear to have stopped suddenly and by the length of the stride, moved much more quickly away. The investigators believe that these tracks belong to whoever the culprit is; that someone may have lured him out there and then attacked him."

"Do you have any idea how yet?"

The Queen shook her head negatively. "The fact that the attacker needed to meet with his or her victim in order to perform the attack but yet did not come within twenty feet of him to do so may lend us some clue. It would appear to rule out a very strong magical talent – who would have been able to attack him from afar and presumably wouldn't bother risking themselves. Also, the footprints coming near the victim, but still stopping a good twenty feet away, seems to also rule out a physical attack – which we already assumed given the lack of marks on the bodies. It would therefore seem to make the most sense that someone is using fairly strong magic with limited range. There is the possibility of someone using a charm to accomplish their task once the victim is within the necessary distance. This scenario would also explain the lack of magical aura around the scene as charms work in a different manner. We have people out checking all the charms dealers to see if anyone has made any odd requests."

"That's good," Phoenix replied, feeling at a loss for words.

"What if the person was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Gavin suggested.

"Perhaps," Queen Layna agreed. She was silent a moment before she spoke again. "Lord Gavin, I hate to appear rude, but I would like a moment alone with my daughter if I may."

"Of course," Gavin agreed, and he hurried off.

When he had left, Layna turned back to Phoenix. "You look more worried than usual. Is something the matter?"

Phoenix drew her mother aside. What she was about to tell her, she didn't even want her guards overhearing. The expression of concern on her mother's face grew.

"Just as the attack must have been happening I was asleep," she began, her mother's curious face urging her to continue, "and I was dreaming. I felt some very strong emotions that weren't mine; I'm sure of it." She paused, gathering her courage. "What if I did have something to do with it? What if in my dream I forced my way into someone's mind, and it hurt them?"

"You did no such thing."

"What if I did?" Phoenix persisted. "The necklace you gave me amplifies any natural ability I have, right? And we don't know what I do or don't have for abilities. I could have done it without even knowing."

Her mother shook her head once more. "I refuse to believe that. Even subconsciously your mind would still obey your morals. And I know that your morals would never allow you to hurt another person. Besides, like I said, the aura is most definitely not yours. You must believe me, even if you can't believe in yourself, that it was not you who did this. Alright?"

Phoenix thought for a moment, then nodded. She didn't want to believe it herself, but didn't want to overlook the possibility. "Maybe I shouldn't wear the necklace for awhile anyway. Just in case."

Her mother seemed like she was about to argue, but thought better of it. "If it makes you feel better, by all means. But I assure you, that you had nothing to do with it. We will find out who did, and they'll pay for the pain they're putting my poor Phoebe through."

Phoenix smiled at her mother's tone. "Thanks, Mom."

*

Rhys slipped into the newest victim's room. He had been a lower noble, and therefore his room was far more accessible than the previous man's. Rhys looked around. Light streamed in from the window Rhys had climbed in through and illuminated the space. There was a large wooden desk shoved up against the opposite wall. Rhys strolled over to it. He picked up a paper on the desk and then set it back down again. His gaze swept over the room.

First the Lord Havensford and now this man. From the looks of his belongings, the second victim was a nondescript man with few possessions and even fewer reasons to get rid of him. Rhys opened the drawer and shuffled through the items within. Something caught his eye at the bottom. Amongst the disorganized mess of random articles was a neatly stacked pile of papers, tied together with twine. At the top of the stack, was the invitation to Phoenix's birthday party.

Rhys picked up the stack and his breath caught in his throat. Over the "i" in Phoenix's name was a blot of ink. His mind flashed back to a similar invitation in Havensford's room which had the exact same blot in the exact same spot. That couldn't be coincidence. He stuffed the papers into his pocket. Giving the room a quick once over, he leaped out the window and onto the ledge beyond. He waited patiently until the guards below moved around the corner before scurrying down.

Once safely on the ground, he made his way back around the outside of the palace to the Queen's chambers. He hoped that she would be able to get him a copy of the documents in Lord Havensford's room from the royal investigators. He was in luck as she happened to be perusing those very documents after having just been updated by the royal investigators. She turned them over to him without question. Papers in hand, he headed straight for the city gates. There was someone he needed to see. He snuck through the streets and out into the wilderness beyond. After sprinting until his lungs ached, he finally saw what he was looking for.

"Mater Levi," Rhys called into the small hut on the edge of the forest.

A small fire burned in the back, the crackling sparks the only sound. Smoke billowed out a chimney hole cut above it, and the smell of cooking rabbit permeated the home. Rhys moved cautiously forward, eyes alert. The hut was empty. A pile of furs that must serve as a bed was to his right, a large wooden table to his left. A mean-looking knife was stuck into its top.

Rhys moved slowly to the furs, gently touching them to see if the man was underneath. He heard a sound and whirled around. His eyes swept over the hut. Something in the fire popped. Rhys's gaze landed on the table. The knife was gone.

Before he could react, he felt the cold bite of metal against his neck and his arm was bent roughly behind him.

A gravelly voice whispered in his ear, "Haven't you ever heard of knocking, boy?"

"There's not exactly a door to knock on," Rhys pointed out. The hand encircling his wrist tightened, and Rhys winced. Then it released its grip.

Rhys turned around. "Good to see you, too, Master Levi."

"Haven't seen you since you decided I had no more to teach you, you arrogant little whelp." There was a twinkle in the man's eyes. "And yet, I still got the better of you."

"This time," Rhys agreed amicably. "How are you?"

"Oh, the same," Levi grumbled. "Ever since the darn barrier came down and the two halves of the country reunited, there's been no one to spy on. Back in the good old days Gryffon and I had some times. Now he's too busy being King for anything exciting and tells me that even the last of the Order's been ferreted out. I have nothing to do but waste away in the woods teaching younglings my craft. Yet they do what with it? Use it for their own thievery and mischief." He gave Rhys a long stare. "But you didn't come here for small talk. What do you want?"

Rhys took the papers out of his pocket and handed them to Levi. "Have you heard about the attacks at the palace?"

Levi grinned at him. "I may be an old man rotting away in the woods, but I still have a friend or two around." His tone grew dark. "I heard." He looked down at the papers in his hands. "So, have you finally decided to put all your training to some real use? What are these?"

"I took them from the second victim's rooms." He pointed to the ink blot. "You see this?"

"Where the writer's pen leaked?"

"Yes. There was the very same leakage on the invitation to the first victim. Coincidence?"

Levi raised an eyebrow. "You don't think so."

Rhys shook his head.

"Why then, did you take these papers instead of leaving them for the royal investigators?"

"The Queen personally charged me with helping to clear Phoenix's name."

"I'm still not following why you would impede their investigation by removing evidence then."

Rhys gave him a long look.

Comprehension dawned on him, and Levi answered his own question. "Because the ink blot indicates that both these men had something to do with Phoenix. Perhaps something to do with the rumors that have been circulating about her. This realization by the royal investigators will only further fuel the accusations against her." He was silent a long moment in contemplation. "Are you sure that the Princess didn't do these things? Her parents are the strongest mages in living memory. It is not impossible that she has retained or regained some of the power that would otherwise have been hers were it not for the Bricrui all those years ago."

Rhys shook his head. "Absolutely not. She would never do such a thing."

Levi gave him another long stare. "I haven't seen the Princess much, but I knew her father. I find it hard to believe that he would raise a child capable of something like this."

"So we're agreed," Rhys stated firmly. "Phoenix had nothing to do with the attacks."

"Very well, then," Levi looked once more to the papers in his hands. "I take it you want me to try and decipher any clues or codes these papers may contain?"

"If you're not too busy," Rhys said, looking around the tiny hut sardonically.

"Finally, a challenge," the man replied, already dismissing Rhys's presence.

The rabbit that was already now getting slightly charred over the fire would likely be allowed to burn to a crisp as Levi engrossed himself in the work; so Rhys went over to it. He turned the meat and poked at the fire, spreading the heat out a bit. When the animal was cooked, he removed it from the spit and set it aside to let it cool a bit while he prepared the rest of the meal. When everything was ready, he set a plate next to Levi, reminding him to eat. The man hardly batted an eye, scribbling something onto his parchment.

Rhys left him to it, chewing on a section of rabbit he'd helped himself to, and looked around the hut. In a corner he saw a pile of clothing and shook his head ruefully at the man. He sat himself next to the pile and took out a needle and thread he knew to be in the cabinet next to the bed. The man may have been a master spy, but he still couldn't mend his own clothes if his life depended on it.

Just as Rhys finished the last stitch on the last piece of clothing, severing the thread with his teeth, Levi made a triumphant noise.

Rhys turned to him, "Did you find something?"

He leaned over the table, trying to see what Levi had scrawled onto the parchment next to the sprawled pile of papers. He couldn't read the handwriting, but in trying to do so he noticed that the man had eaten the entire plate of food. He leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. "Good timing," he commented sarcastically.

Levi winked. Rhys knew the other man would have never paused to eat unless he'd already found the answer which meant that he'd actually found it some time ago and was just waiting for Rhys to finish mending his clothes.

"Well, out with it," Rhys waved a hand impatiently at him.

"Your instincts were correct," Levi's tone grew serious. "These letters were indeed magically coded with intimate information about Phoenix, her abilities, her whereabouts, and her childhood imaginary friends. They also indicate that someone has hired people to spread these rumors. There is definitely a conspiracy at work here and not just some nasty gossip."

Levi picked up his scribbled notes that Rhys had been unable to decipher. He read aloud, "Your daughter's life depends on your continued cooperation with our cause." He looked up from the papers and met Rhys's eye. "This one is to Lord Havensford." Glancing back at the notes, he continued, "Contained in this communication are specific incidents in the Princess's childhood which show that she can read minds. Arrangements have been made for you to attend the ball at the Towers estate. We shall expect to be hearing about all we have told you by the next day."

"The ball at the Towers estate was quite some time ago. Obviously this has been very thoughtfully planned out. Do you suppose they kidnapped his daughter?"

"Indeed," Levi agreed. "There is another communication dated the day before Havensford was attacked indicating that he was supposed to meet someone who had more information about Phoenix by the wool mill in the city the next day. Given the time he was attacked, I'd say it's a fair bet that he never made that meeting, but it could be that this meeting was to lure him in to be attacked as well. Though it doesn't explain where he was found unless the attacker moved him. But finding this conspirator may lead us to his daughter."

Rhys shook his head. "That conspirator would be me," he said and explained at Levi's questioning look, "I had pulled a few strings to set up a meeting with them in hopes of finding out who was involved, but the person never showed. Guess that explains why."

"Do you know who set up the meeting?"

Rhys shook his head. "No, it went through too many channels to be traced. A dead end on both sides now."

Levi nodded and put down the paper he'd been reading from and picked up another. "This is the second victim's, Lord Donnovan." He read, "You will find payment beneath the rose bush in the gardens for you and the other you have recruited to our cause. You will also find additional instructions for a meeting with your contact. From there, we will move forward with our plans which will be explained at the meeting."

"It was probably at that meeting that he was attacked." Rhys sighed at Levi's nod that the time and place were correct for this assumption. Moments later, he countered his own logic, "Except that why would the other conspirators attack him rather than give him the additional instructions?"

"Unless that was the next stage of the plan," Levi suggested.

Rhys didn't respond as he didn't have any answers. Instead he asked, "Was there any indication as to who hired the men, who the contact was, or who the third conspirator that was recruited is?"

Levi shook his head, his eyes alight with excitement. "But I know people we can ask. I'll get to it right away. At least we have Havensford's daughter to go on; if we find her we may be able to find who's threatening her."

"Thanks, Levi."

The knife appeared at Rhys's throat once more. "That's Master Levi to you."

Rhys bowed his head respectfully before leaving. He'd have to let the Queen know what Levi had found. His journey back to the palace took much longer than the trip to Levi's as this time he meandered around the city first. He wasn't sure how to deliver the news and wished that he had more answers to give her before bringing any news at all. In the end, he convinced himself that he should let her know. Perhaps she'd have another idea where to go with it.

Once he made this decision, he made a beeline for the palace and then straight on to the royal suite. Once he'd been searched and the guard had announced him, he was led into the conference area. The King and Queen were both in attendance, as well as several of their most trusted aides. The Queen bade him speak with no preamble. When he delivered the news, the monarchs sat silently before him.

One of the aides spoke up. "We must let people know; this is good news. We can prove there's a conspiracy against her that started the malicious rumors."

"But two of those in the conspiracy have been attacked," the Queen said softly.

"Don't you see?" asked the King, though not harshly, when the aide looked baffled by her lack of excitement. "This would only serve to further fuel the rumors. People are starting to believe that Phoenix uses her mind to read others. Is it really a stretch to think that they might also believe that she can use this ability to harm people with her mind? Baron Winters has already accused her of doing so, if he found out that the two men were part of a conspiracy against her..." He trailed off and was thoughtful a moment. "Other than the fact that these two were part of it, I would almost think that it was part of their plan. It certainly worked to get Winters to accuse her. Maybe the two had just reached the end of their usefulness?"

"I could see that with Havensford since he seems to have been coerced into helping them, but the second victim was willingly going along with it. Why attack him?" the Queen mused.

"And why not kill them then?" Rhys asked. "Why allow them the chance to regain consciousness and possibly turn on the other conspirators?"

"Perhaps they weren't actually the conspirators at all, but only framed to look as such to then be attacked," the aide who had first spoken suggested.

"That would seem more likely if it hadn't been so difficult to detect that they were part of a conspiracy. It doesn't necessarily seem that they wanted to be discovered as such," Gryffon pointed out.

They were all silent for several long moments.

"So we have two men we know to be conspirators: Lord Havensford unwillingly so, and a second currently in a coma. That still leaves the third that the second victim recruited, the contact that was mentioned, and whoever is behind it all," the Queen summarized.

"At least we have Havensford's daughter," Rhys said hopefully.

"Yes," Gryffon, ever the optimist, agreed. "Unfortunately, that fact that you removed the evidence linking her to the conspirators will complicate things."

Rhys started to apologize, but the King put up his hand to stop him.

"It was the right choice," Gryffon said firmly. "As a victim in an ongoing investigation, it would not be unusual to try and contact all members of the family anyway." He paused thoughtfully. "In fact, I believe we ought to suggest it to the royal investigators so that they can look into it themselves."

The Queen nodded. "That's a good idea." She turned to Rhys. "You're sure that there was no other indication of who was behind it all? I hate to think of there still being people out there trying to hurt Phoenix."

Rhys shook his head.

"What are we going to do about it?" an aide who had so far been silent asked.

"I don't know," the Queen rubbed her forehead. "There are still too many questions."

"You said Levi is looking into it as well?" the King asked Rhys.

He nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good," he put a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this." King Gryffon turned to Rhys. "Please continue your efforts as well." Broadening his statements to the rest of the room he added, "And please, let's keep this quiet for now. Until we know the facts."

Everyone nodded, and Rhys excused himself. Things were looking worse and worse for poor Phoenix.

*

Wren rubbed tired eyes and gazed at his sorry reflection in the mirror. He had gone back to the clearing only to sit alone for the afternoon. And the next. And the next. Lise hadn't come. His guilt was eating him alive. He'd not only completely left Phoenix in her time of need, but could potentially have compounded his friend's problems by telling secrets that he never should have repeated.

He still couldn't bring himself to go to the Princess. Her rejection still burned, and this new guilt on top of that meant there was no way he could face her. Instead, he sought out Rhys to see what he could do to help alleviate her predicament.

He found the boy in the library – an odd place for the rogue – and mumbled a hello.

"You're looking worse than I feel," Rhys commented.

Wren just glared at him. "I was hoping I could help you with your..." He glanced around worriedly, not wanting to be overheard. Although Wren knew well enough that the Queen had Rhys looking into Phoenix's problems, it wasn't common knowledge. Wren didn't want to be responsible for another leaked secret. "That thing you're looking into?" he finished finally.

"You mean clearing the Princess's name?" Rhys asked him, raising his eyebrows as though Wren was being silly.

"Yeah."

Rhys sighed loudly in relief. The librarian shushed him. "Please, by the gods, yes. If I look at another book I think I might have to kill myself. Here." Rhys shoved the book at him and Wren looked down at it. As he scanned through the book Rhys was perusing, he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

"You think you might find clues to who's behind it by looking through ancient family lines?"

"Ancient? Wha-?" Rhys began, spinning the book back in his direction and closing it to read the dates in the title more closely. Then he looked up and glared at the librarian, who was wearing a rather smug expression. "That little-" Rhys began, but mumbled the rest of the sentence too low for Wren to hear. He marched over and slammed the book down on the woman's desk.

He stomped back and motioned Wren to follow him away from the librarian and into a corner. They sank down into the plush chairs there and Rhys leaned forwards.

"I was investigating the two men who were attacked. It turns out they were both part of the conspiracy against Phoenix. Havensford was being blackmailed with his daughter's safety, but the other went along with it willingly. The daughter is already being looked into, so now I'm just trying to find any connections between the two." His expression darkened. "Though for some strange reason I couldn't seem to find their names in there at all."

"It might help if you'd been looking in the correct century," Wren commented.

"Yeeees," Rhys agreed sourly.

"So there definitely is a conspiracy against Phoenix?"

"Absolutely," Rhys nodded and filled Wren in on the details. When he was finished explaining he asked, "So, will you help?"

"Of course," Wren answered, "but maybe you'd better get out of here. I'd hate for the librarian to think we're friends or something." He gave Rhys a wink, trying to cover his disquiet. He wasn't sure what he would do if a connection he found linked the men to Lise in some way.

Rhys lifted an eyebrow and gave a short laugh. "Alright, if you insist," he stood, slapping his hands against his thighs. "Thanks, Wren."

The other boy patted him on the shoulder as he left, marching past the librarian and making a show of leaving. As soon as Rhys was gone, Wren headed for the right section of books to look up the two victims – and apparently conspirators. He spent the rest of the day performing the tedious task of reading through their entire family histories. Both men were from the Treymaynian side of the country. One was from the middle and Havensford was from the south. They did not appear to be socially involved. The good news was that he'd found nothing about a woman named Lise in either history, the bad news was that he still had no idea how they might be connected.

After a while, he began to have the strange feeling that he was being watched. He surreptitiously glanced around over the top of his book and thought he saw movement between one of the shelves. He looked back down at the page but didn't read it. Instead, he focused his peripheral vision on the spot. Something dark appeared around the shelf. He looked quickly at it, hoping to catch whoever it was before they ducked back behind the shelf.

Madeline let out a gasp. "Oh, hey, Wren. Didn't notice you there."

Wren smiled. "Afternoon, Madeline."

She sidled up to him and peered over the top of the book he held in front of him. "What are you reading?"

He tilted it down so that she could see. "Family histories. Just a little research, you know." He tried to act casually.

"You're looking into those two men that were attacked, aren't you?" she whispered. Apparently he hadn't been as nonchalant as he'd thought.

He eyed her suspiciously. She had always been too curious for her own good. He softened; he'd had the same thing said about him. She was a friend to both him and the Princess. He had no doubt she only wanted to help.

"Yes," he answered finally. "At the moment, I'm trying to find some connection between them."

Madeline thought for a moment, taking a seat beside him. "They both like hunting," she offered.

"Along with most of the male population and a fair number of the females too," Wren commented sarcastically. Madeline's hurt look made him immediately regret it. "But it is something. Perhaps they met at a hunt?"

The girl seemed to accept the implied apology. "I saw them both at the royal aviary. I'm not sure if they were together, but they were there at the same time. I'm pretty sure Regina's father was showing them both one of his prized flocks. Maybe they both have an interest in birds?" she suggested. "What do their families do?"

He glanced down at his notes. "It appears that the Havenfords are lords of some farmlands. The Donnovans own some blacksmith shops that are fairly successful. Nothing that would suggest that they crossed paths."

"Well, they both obviously attend court at the palace. Maybe they just know each other here. How long were they staying?"

"Havensford was here just for Phoenix's party and a few other events it appears. Donnovan for a bit longer. He was supposed to be conducting business after the festivities according to his wife. They were trying to set up a shop in the capital."

"Hmm."

Madeline put her forefinger and thumb on her chin. They sat in silence, contemplating the possibilities for a few minutes. Wren glanced out the window and sighed.

"I'm going to go clear my head for a while," he told her. "Thanks for trying to help."

He gave Madeline a small smile, which she returned and curtsied prettily to him as he left.

After stopping in his rooms briefly, Wren went back out to the stables. The usual stable-boy greeted him, an odd look on his face. When he brought the horse out for him, the boy spoke hesitantly.

"Is everything alright, sir? Your rides don't seem to be as enjoyable for you anymore. Is the saddle comfortable? The horse behaving?"

Wren laughed humorlessly. "There's nothing wrong with the horse or saddle; thank you. My rides have simply become less fruitful of late. But I thank you for the concern." He smiled kindly.

"Oh, okay. My dad gets discouraged sometimes, too, when he doesn't get anything hunting. One time we had to eat squirrel for a week before he got a deer." He patted the horse's rump after Wren had climbed on. "Don't worry; you'll get something."

Wren thanked the boy, not bothering to correct his mistaken assumption of the purpose of his treks. The ride to the forest seemed to take much longer nowadays, though he knew it was exactly the same. When he finally arrived, he tied his horse to the usual tree and followed his own tracks through the forest to the edge of the stream.

He sat there morosely for a while before deciding to take a look around. _Perhaps I can find where she disappeared off to_. _There has to be_ something _left behind_. He thought back to their attempt to follow the unicorn tracks that had gone awry. They _had_ managed to follow the tracks, despite them not belonging to the unicorn.

Deep down he knew that it was futile attempt to follow a trail at all, much less one that was now so old. Rationally, there was very little chance that he would actually find something to lend some clue as to where she had gone. That didn't stop him from wanting to do something other than sit around and hope that someday she might come back. Foolish or not, he was determined enough – and desperate enough – to follow any sign he could possibly find.

That decided, he picked the direction that he'd seen her walk off in and scoured the ground for any sign of someone's passage. He remembered enough of his lessons on hunting to know to look for impressions in the ground, broken vegetation, or debris left behind. He'd just never had much need to put it into practice before. Regardless, he soon found something he convinced himself was her trail, and he set out on it.

Every now and again he'd pause and search the ground and foliage, and each time he'd find something that he'd decide was another clue. Soon, he found himself completely lost. Looking up at the sky peeking through the canopy of branches above, Wren suddenly realized that it was much later than he thought. He'd been so wrapped up in trying to track Lise that he hadn't noticed the setting of the sun. Its warm light was now almost completely disappeared from the treetops. A mere hour or so would pass before it disappeared completely, and he'd be left out in the middle of the evening wilderness alone.

He froze for a moment, feeling more afraid of the woods than he ever had before. He patted his tunic. What did he have to defend himself with? At that moment, gods-knew-how-far from the horse, he realized how completely unprepared he was. He had no weapons, no way of starting a fire, and nothing to get him back should he need to. His hand clamped down on the healing amulet his mother always made him wear. It wouldn't protect him from an animal attack, but its presence was comforting nonetheless.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and turned around to go back in the direction he came. Luck was with him, and the ground was soft, making his footprints stand out in the mud. Unfortunately, because of the fading light, he lost the trail a short while later. Panic set in once again. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, and his breath came in short gasps.

Then he saw it. In the distance, there was a faint flickering of light. _Torches! There must be people_. Wren took off at a run, breaking through branches and scratching himself against thorns but not caring.

"Hello!" he shouted. "Hello!"

The light disappeared. He reached the spot he'd have sworn he saw it from but could find no trace of anything. He looked around, discouraged. _The person must have heard me! Why didn't they answer?_ He had a dark thought. _Maybe it was a bandit_. He glanced around and ducked behind a bush. He waited in the shadows for a few long minutes, but nothing stirred.

And then, off in the distance, he saw the light again. This time, Wren didn't shout, but he made his way stealthily – or at least as stealthily as he could manage – towards it. Once again, despite his best attempt to move silently, it disappeared as soon as he drew near.

Disgruntled, he hunkered down to wait, peering into the ever-darkening forest. Again, the light appeared up ahead, and again, Wren followed it. Despite the chance that it could be bandits or worse, he still felt better knowing he was near other humans. Humans scared him less than whatever other creatures were in the woods.

Just then something scurried past in front of him and he let out a shrill scream. The light vanished just as he caught a glimpse of the rabbit tearing away. Wren dove undercover again. _Right. Better to be with bandits than the killer rabbits_ , he thought sourly. The light did not reappear in the same amount of time, and the dark continued to close in. Wren bit his lip, and pointed himself in the direction he'd last seen it. Hopefully, they'd still be moving the same way.

He stumbled through the brush, snagging his pants on a branch of a fallen log. He scared himself half to death, convinced he had been grabbed by undead monsters lurking in the darkness. He finally pulled free, his heart pounding so loudly he could hear almost nothing else, and stumbled into a clearing.

As his heart gradually slowed, he heard a noise. Freezing, he dropped to the ground and listened. It was hard to describe. He thought it was perhaps the sound of chewing? He imagined a giant beast, gnawing away on the bones of its last meal. Something moved. A very large something. Its outline was vague, a blob on the other side of the clearing. It had to be a bear, he decided. It was too big for anything else.

He slowly started backing out of the clearing without the monster seeing him, but as he stepped backwards, his foot snapped a branch. Very loudly. The monster's head shot up. As it did so, the moon peeked out from behind a cloud and lit up the clearing. Wren rushed forward happily. The monster was none other than his horse, munching away happily on the grass. He wrapped his arms around the beast's head and kissed it on the snout. The horse snorted at him, spraying him with spit, but he didn't care.

Wasting no time, he climbed onto the horse and led it back out of the terrifying trees. When the lights of the city came into view, he finally calmed enough for his brain to slowly creak back into motion. Belatedly, he realized that whoever he had been following may have seen his horse, and had it been a bandit, may have raided his saddlebags. Luckily, he brought little with him into the woods, but there were a few items he would miss if stolen.

Carefully balancing so as not to fall and lose his way back to civilization, he reached into the saddlebags to check the contents. He was surprised to find them intact. Apparently, whoever it was he'd been following had fortuitously missed seeing his horse – or was simply the honorable sort – while unknowingly leading him to safety.

That was some good news. The bad news was that Lise hadn't shown up again, and he'd found no real sign of her. But he was alive. That definitely counted for something.
CHAPTER 9

Phoenix sat with her mother on the terrace. She fingered the teacup in front of her distractedly.

"Rhys mentioned something to me about the heralds that has become increasingly disturbing as this mystery behind the attacks grows." Queen Layna said. Phoenix had not been at all surprised to learn that Layna had put Rhys to the task of investigating the rumors. Though the boy did not recognize the usefulness of his own skills to their fullest, the Queen was well-aware and eager to take advantage.

"What's that?" Phoenix asked.

"He said that the day they arrived at the palace he overheard them talking. While he only overheard a snippet of their conversation, that small bit was unusual. They apparently said 'what if they find out about him?' and I can't help but wonder what they meant."

"Have any of the people I'm sure you have watching them seen anything suspicious?"

"No," her mother answered. "The most unusual thing that they did was steal a branch from the gardens, but I'm told that it is something used to make a sleeping aid. So other than it being odd that they didn't simply ask one of the healers for something rather than go and make it themselves, it's not particularly strange."

"And really, if I were in a foreign country, I'd probably feel safer mixing my own sleep aids as well," Phoenix added.

"True. So to what then, did that strange comment refer?"

"Perhaps we should ask them." Phoenix paused and then added, "Delicately. We certainly don't want to make it seem like we're accusing them of anything. Herald Siajan seems the canny sort, though, I would imagine he'd be able to understand why in the midst of our investigation we'd want to question everything. As much as we have tried to shield it from them, I have no doubt they are quite informed on the matter."

"Unfortunately, you're right, my dear." Her mother sighed. "Would you like to come with me to ask? They seem to enjoy your company."

"Of course. I asked Herald Siajan to accompany me for a walk later anyway to discuss our differing customs, so we can find a way to work it in."

Later, they met Siajan at the gardens, and he seemed pleased to have the Queen accompany them on their walk. Eventually, her mother brought up the subject she was loathe to discuss.

"I hate to have to ask you this, Herald, but I can only hope for your understanding in the midst of our current crisis. We must explore every avenue." Siajan's lack of response indicated that he knew what she was talking about, so she continued. "Someone overheard a comment that you made which indicated that there was something you didn't want us to find out about 'him'."

A brief flash of anger spread across Siajan's face but was quickly quelled and replaced with his pleasant smile. "Indeed, Your Majesty," he replied after a moment. "There is something that we have not been entirely forthcoming about." He paused again. "In light of your crisis, and given the hospitality you have shown us, I believe that we can trust you with the information." He glanced around as though checking to see that no one else was within earshot. Even the guards had hung back. "The young man, Nathiwen, who travels with us is more than he seems. He is actually a member of Her Royal Eminence's household." He paused a third time. "He is her son."

The Queen wore an expression of disbelief. "The heir has been here this whole time and not acknowledged? We have not shown him the proper respect due! You must think us awful."

"You misunderstand," Siajan corrected her, "I said he is her son, not the heir. And we chose not to share this information for a reason. We could hardly expect you to know who he was without telling you."

Phoenix and the Queen both gave him confused expressions.

"His ailment makes him unfit to rule. That's really why we were out sailing around. The boy seems to enjoy it, and it keeps him away from the people where he would be an embarrassment for the Empress. We didn't plan to stumble upon you, and therefore didn't want you to realize how important of a person he was while you were still unknown to us. Surely, you understand a mother not wanting to put her son in danger."

"I see," nodded the Queen, looking over at Phoenix. "I can definitely understand that."

"I hope that you understand as well," he went on, "that though I am sharing this information with the two of you as a show of faith and so that you can see that we have nothing to do with your troubles, it would still be in Nathiwen's best interest for his true identity to remain unknown. While I feel that the two of you can be trusted not to use this information against him, there may still be those in your kingdom who would. After all, there are those working to undermine your own heir," he said pointedly.

"You have my word," the Queen nodded. Siajan turned to Phoenix.

"And mine as well," she answered his unspoken question.

"Thank you," Siajan replied. "I would point out as well that we have no motivation for such attacks. What could we possibly gain from causing trouble with you?"

"I absolutely agree," Queen Layna assured him.

"Is it possible that a potion was taken that could have caused such a thing?" Phoenix asked. "I don't mean to further implicate you, but the nature of the attack seems to be something we don't understand."

Siajan went pale for a moment. "We did have an incident with a potion going missing while we were traveling the city..." he began.

"Could this potion cause the kind of response we're seeing?"

Siajan hesitated, but finally answered negatively. "No, no I don't see how. Most likely it slipped my belt and smashed somewhere during our tour of the city. Seeing as how the rest of the valuables in the purse were untouched, it is unlikely to have been a robbery. And even so, the missing vial would not cause the symptoms you are looking for. Perhaps an unfavorable reaction depending on who took it, but it would not put someone in a comatose state. I'm afraid that our potions are not the culprit here, however convenient an explanation they would seem to be."

"You're probably right," Phoenix agreed.

They dropped the subject and went on to other things, but Phoenix couldn't shake the thought. Perhaps it had been the potion after all. If someone had stolen and used it, that could explain why they couldn't figure out the cause of the men's misfortune. But unless Siajan was an excellent liar – which Phoenix did not think he was – she believed that he had nothing to do with the attacks. And he was certainly correct in his point that the attacks would gain the empire nothing. The use of a potion by someone else though could certainly explain the strange symptoms. Perhaps Siajan simply didn't know how it might affect someone with talent given the fact that it seemed as though there were very few, if any, people in the empire with it. Or he may even be downplaying the effect it might have simply to further dissuade them from believing the heralds had anything to do with it. So maybe someone else knew what the potion would do to a person from Elaeld and was able to use it against them. The question remained, however: Who would have knowledge of what the strangers' potions could do?

*

Rhys drummed his fingers on Levi's table. Who would gain the most from Phoenix's discredit? If people believed the rumors and Phoenix's coronation was put off, it would further the reign of Queen Layna, but that line of reasoning was a moot point. There was no way that her mother or father would do such a thing. He mulled this thought around. But would others benefit from Layna remaining Queen? It might be ridiculous to accuse the King and Queen of being behind the attacks, but not that someone might gain from their reign being furthered.

So who would gain from the furthering of Layna's reign? There was the Council and the Triumvirate. Though the Council itself would remain in place to advise Phoenix, the current Triumvirate would simply be reabsorbed into the Council as a whole. Lady Aria, Lord Frolkon, and Master Banys certainly could lose a lot of power when the coronation took place unless Phoenix reappointed them as something else.

"Do you know anything about Lady Aria?" Rhys asked Levi, who was currently stirring something over his fire.

"You mean besides that she's First Advisor, I assume?" He thought a moment. "There was an incident involving her and Queen Layna back before she was Queen. Something about a poisoning."

"A what now?"

"Lady Aria gave Layna poison under the misguided belief that she had had something to do with the Lady's father's murder. Though she was cleared of charges, claiming she thought it was simply a truth serum, some remained doubtful," Levi supplied. "I don't think anyone doubts her loyalty now, however."

"Lady Aria certainly stands to lose quite a bit when Phoenix takes power," Rhys commented. Under the current arrangement, because Lady Aria was the First Advisor of the Triumvirate, she was the highest representative of old Treymayne. Therefore, she was currently almost equal to Layna in status. And she was a woman who had chosen the power of leadership over her own son, sending him away to the farthest reaches of the Treymayne south to live with his father's relatives. Rhys had known Aria for as long as he had known the Princess, though all interactions with her had been formal. She didn't seem like the type who would do such a thing, but she did covet her position; that much was clear.

Levi looked skeptical. "With all the suspicion in the castle after all that business with the Order, I'm not sure that she would have remained in her position if she was going to do something like this."

"What if she wasn't planning on it before, but only now that her power is in danger of coming to an end do we see what she's capable of?"

Levi still looked doubtful. "What about the other two in the Triumvirate? They don't have quite as much to lose, but Phoenix's rule will definitely be a decline in status."

"Yeah, I'll look into them too." He thought for a moment. "And Gavin? Aria's son? What if she wants him to take the throne instead? Didn't she suddenly decide that she wanted him here?"

"It wouldn't matter," Levi shook his head. "Gavin is the First Advisor's son, yes, but the Council isn't chosen by bloodlines; they are elected. Only Phoenix has royal blood, and more importantly, she is a mixture of old Gelendan and old Treymayne blood. Gavin's best bet at becoming King would be to marry the Princess. From what I've heard, he's making a go at that. Why discredit the one who's your ticket to power?"

Rhys bit his lip. "Alright, thanks, Levi." He rapped his knuckles on the table and rose, preparing to head back towards the city. He had a few other things he wanted to research as well.

Slipping into an alleyway back in the heart of Naoham, he looked around carefully before knocking on a door there. The noise and light that that emerged from the open door was a bold contrast from the bland alley. A scantily clad woman with gaudy jewelry and heavy make-up answered the door.

"Rhys!" she exclaimed with happy surprise, drawing him inside. "You can use the front door, you know, silly."

"But then someone might see me," he pointed out. The woman laughed as though it was a joke, though he was being completely serious. He greeted each of the girls by name, looking for the one he'd come to see. Megan poked her head out from the office and he waved to her. She stepped farther out, and Carolyn appeared beside her. The two were rarely seen apart.

"We haven't seen you in a while," Carolyn commented. "Good to have you back." He greeted both and cringed a bit peeking into the office. He had more than once seen Wren's mother, Katrina, here. Though he was aware that she was here for the girls' same talents that he was, it was still awkward. As the coordinator of the information network for Queen Layna, visiting the Golden Girls every now and again was extremely advantageous for Katrina. Brothels were infamous for loose lips. He was in luck today as Wren's mother was nowhere to be seen.

He made small talk with the two owners for a bit until he spotted the girl he was after coming down the stairs. She met his eyes and hers lit up. The girls all liked a little break from their usual. He only ever talked to them. He motioned to her, and she flowed over to him. It was the only word that described the sensuous way that she walked.

"Can we talk?" he asked as she approached.

"Anytime," she whispered seductively and he swallowed. She led the way to a back room and drew him into a sitting position on the bed. "What are you interested in these days?"

"Heard anything about daggers that have black handles and red blades?"

She suddenly looked petrified, her eyes darting around the room. She lowered her voice so far that Rhys could barely hear her. He had to move in so close that he could smell the sweet smell of strawberries on her breath.

"It's dangerous even to speak of them. It's said that they listen in the shadows and strike down those who would dare speak of them."

"Who are they?"

"The Shadow Sisters. A group of deadly assassins. It's said that if you are marked by one, there is nothing that will prevent your death."

Rhys swore. "The Shadow Sisters are assassins?" When he'd asked Michael to look into the gangs in the most powerful positions in the city, he hadn't realized just what he'd gotten into. There was no helping it now; he'd already earned their respect, he may as well use their support, if only to leverage the others into going along with his plan.

"Do you know anything about them using snakes?" he asked after a moment's contemplation.

She looked around again and shuddered visibly. Clearly, she believed what she had said about them marking you if you talked about them, and Rhys felt bad pushing her. But he had to know.

"I've heard," she began, "that there was once an assassin who worked with a snake. She was so powerful that all those now inducted into the damned group idolized her. But I don't think she was actually in the Sisterhood. That's all I know," she said pleadingly.

Rhys thanked her, and she skittered out of the room, plainly frightened. Someone who could scare a Golden Girl that much was impressive indeed.

*

Wren threw another rock into the pool of water. He succeeded in making it skip three times. A bird chirped overhead.

"Why do you sit here everyday?" Lise's voice suddenly sounded behind him. He'd imagined it happening so many times, but now that she was here, he wasn't sure how to handle it. He turned to her slowly.

"To see you," he finally answered. He paused a moment, gazing into her eyes. "You don't seem very happy about it." _As though you have been using me for information about Phoenix and now feel badly about it_ , he thought.

She dropped her eyes. "As I told you, it's pointless. I told myself that I should just move on."

Wren clamped his jaw shut. After a moment, he pried it apart. "What changed your mind?"

"I couldn't stay away," she answered, almost sadly, tearing at his heart. He hadn't realized just how strong a hold this woman had on him until he thought she might not return those feelings. "It must be fate." She smiled, most definitely sadly this time.

"You sound disappointed," he commented, trying to keep his own disappointment from showing in his voice. Perhaps it had started out as a ruse to get information and had turned into more.

"Only at the futility of it," she answered. "I find I enjoy your company more than I should."

Wren's heart skipped a beat. "I enjoy your company as well. I don't understand why it is futile for two people to bring happiness to one another."

The woman pondered this a moment. "Because it's not real. And it can never be so for me. You deserve more than what I can give you."

She didn't speak for a long moment, but Wren, sensing she was formulating her words, stayed silent. His heart dropped and his mind whirled with possibilities. Could she really have been the one to have leaked information he had given her about Phoenix to the people spreading rumors? Could he forgive her for doing so?

Eventually, she spoke again. "Lise is not my real name."

Wren was taken-aback. She _had_ been lying to him! Maybe she was the traitor after all. "What is your name?" he asked warily.

"Those who know me now call me Echo, because that's what I am. I'm an echo of the person I once was. But you," she stroked his face softly, looking up into his eyes, a shiny tear threatening to fall from her own, "you should call me by my given name, Ketharly."

She looked into his eyes searchingly, as though waiting for him to have some reaction to the name, but it meant nothing to him. A tiny thought in the back of his head remembered something, but the thought flitted away before it could take form.

"Why lie about your name?"

"For no malicious intent, I assure you. I have only been on my own for so long that when I first met you, I felt the need to preserve my anonymousness. But now, you deserve to know the truth."

"Why are you an echo?" Wren asked, bewildered, and distracted from his dark thoughts by her warm touch.

"My life happened long ago. I am just a shell of what I once was. Though I have healed well the past years, I will never be the same." She sighed. "And if you knew more about me, you would never seek out my company."

"I doubt that," Wren disagreed.

"There's more I haven't told you," Ketharly said, ashamed. She hung her head. Wren hooked a finger under her chin and gently lifted her head so that her eyes met his once more.

"Tell me."

"This isn't my true form."

Wren had nothing to say for a moment. Finally he asked slowly, "What is your true form?"

In response, Ketharly's form shimmered and sparkled, growing larger and more equine. Her arms lengthened and her fingers melded together to become hooves. Her face elongated, her eyes spreading to either side of her now horse-like head. Her skin darkened and drew fine black hair. A long silver horn sprouted from her forehead.

Wren involuntarily jumped, his jaw dropping, and he tumbled backwards off the log. He scrambled away, intent on putting space between himself and the huge animal that had just appeared before him. The silver horn glistened menacingly, but the creature remained still. Wren finally stopped and collapsed on the cold, wet ground, moisture seeping through his pants. He hardly even noticed the wetness as he stared hard at the unicorn.

Wren's eyebrows rose high. "You're the unicorn?" he squeaked out, so surprised that he didn't even bother to be embarrassed by his cracking tone.

The unicorn – Ketharly – nodded her head regally. He heard her musical voice in his head.

\- _This is my true form. The woman you saw, while truly my appearance when I was still human, is now only an illusion. When you burst out on me while I was in the stream I had no time to run. Instead, I made you think that it was a naked maiden you saw and not an animal. So you see, enjoying one another's company is futile_. –

Wren was in a state of shock. There were theories that the unicorn was a mage who had turned herself into the magnificent creature, but he had never really put much stock in them. He thought that magic like that was lost back in the Dark King's era. But it did make a certain sense, especially given the more recent encounters.

Wren had surge of emotions. He had found the unicorn! And even better, Lise – or rather Ketharly's – reason for being so secretive was because she _was_ the unicorn. Wren was so relieved that this was her terrible secret and not that she had betrayed the Princess to the traitors that he laughed out loud.

Ketharly tilted her equine head at him.

"Are you also the nightmare that took Endlyfta by storm eighteen years ago?"

\- _You're taking this well_. - The voice in his head sighed. – _I hoped that most of those who knew about me simply forgot my existence. Others I helped to forget. I find it difficult to be around people anymore._ –

"Why don't you just change back?"

\- _I don't know how. It took many mages to make me this way, and my memory is not what it once was._ -

"What do you mean? How old could you be?" Wren mentally tallied up the years in his head. If she was around and already adult enough for the Treymayne council to have listened to her, it was likely she was at least eighteen years older...

\- _Hundreds of years_. - she told him. - _The spell also slowed my aging. I hoped to spend the years in quiet peace, but I find myself agonized by that which I cannot have. Even the brief time I spent among people made me realize just how much I miss being with others_.-

"Can't Queen Layna and King Gryffon turn you back?"

Wren knew that they were the most powerful magical forces since before the Dark King's era and found it hard to believe that there would be a spell that they couldn't undo. Ketharly shook her head, making her silver mane shine as it flipped back and forth across her muscular neck. - _They tried. It was no use. Without knowing what the original spell was, they couldn't do anything without endangering my life._ -

"So you know Queen Layna and King Gryffon," Wren stated.

Ketharly nodded.

"And you aren't selling information about Phoenix to spies?"

Ketharly shimmered and turned back into her woman form to slap him loudly across the face, her own turning red in outrage. It was a rather real-feeling illusion.

"How could you even think such a thing about me?"

He raised a hand to the spot on his cheek where it was still stinging from her hand. He gave her an incredulous look. "After you just told me how dishonest you've been with me you really wonder why I might be suspicious of your secrecy? The timing of things I told you suddenly turning up in the rumors was uncannily coincidental."

Her face went from red to white in an instant. "I'm so sorry," she said, raising her hand again to his face, this time gently to examine what she'd done. "I shouldn't have done that. I just –" she looked away, "you just took me by surprise. Will you forgive me?"

"Perhaps we should kiss and make up."

Ketharly looked up shyly through her eyelashes at him, then quickly leaned in and brushed her lips briefly against his. Wren closed his eyes, relishing the sweet taste. When he opened them again, she was staring down at her hands. She raised her eyes to his face once more.

"I'm sorry," she said. "That was unfair of me."

Wren rubbed his jaw where the heat from her slap was still burning. "I've had worse," he shrugged.

She was silent.

They simply sat together for a few very long minutes while Wren thought about all she had told him. He stole a glance at her and saw that she was staring off into the woods with a faraway look in her eyes. The forlorn expression she wore was so heart-breaking that Wren knew he had to do something.

"I'm going to find a way to turn you back," Wren stated firmly.

She looked at him, her eyes blazing with new life. "It's not that simple –" she began, but he cut her off.

"No," he said, holding up a hand to stave off her objections. "I will. I will not rest until we find a way to turn you back. It was done, so somewhere there must be a record of it, or a mention of it, or something that will give us a clue. All it will take is a scholar to pore over the records and find it. And it just so happens that I am a scholar."

Ketharly narrowed her eyes at him appraisingly. A small smile spread across her lips, growing wider the longer she stared. He refused to look away from the intense look.

"Well, then, Master Wren," she said slowly, offering him her hand, "I give you my most sincere thanks."
CHAPTER 10

Rhys tracked Wren down in the library and plodded over to him. It was much easier to ask him about history than to look it up himself. He shot the librarian a glare as he walked past. Wren was looking happier than he had been of late.

"Wasn't there something about the Lady Aria being involved in an attack against Layna years ago that involved some sort of potion?" he asked without preamble.

Wren looked up from his book and glanced over at the librarian who had predictably shushed Rhys the moment he'd spoken. She had it out for him ever since that incident with the missing tome, and her dislike of him only seemed to be growing the more time he spent here. As if anyone really wanted to read about the mating habits of gnomes anyway; it had made a much better target for his knife throwing practice.

"Yes," Wren replied in a hushed voice. "She falsely believed Layna to be responsible for her father's murder and gave her what she thought was a truth serum to get a confession out of her. Only it turned out to be poison. You don't think she knew more than she was letting on, do you?"

"No, I already checked into it. I just thought there might have been more information about the truth serum and where she got it. We don't normally have potions that could do something like this, but I thought that her story might give some insight."

Wren nodded thoughtfully. "Well, we don't have potions like the empire seems to. Which is why places like wherever Aria got the truth serum from are largely black market. Their wares tend to be snake oil concoctions that are as likely to give you a case of the runs as they are to provide whatever cure or wish you were going for. They aren't true potions." He thought for a moment. "Though I suppose that it is possible that both men went to one of these dealers looking for such a thing, especially in light of the strangers making potions seem that much more legitimate. Only what they got wasn't quite what they paid for." He seemed preoccupied.

"Do you think you could look into Lord Frolkon and Master Banys for me?" Rhys asked.

"You think they're involved?"

"Just want to check every possibility. They will lose power when Phoenix takes the throne, so they have motive."

Wren sighed. "Sure. I have some other things to take care of, but I'll look into it; I promise."

Rhys let him go back to his book while he contemplated his new thought. Levi had mentioned about the Lady Aria using poison against the Queen, and Phoenix had expressed worry that the potion from the strangers had been used to cause the attacks. Jessup wasn't the brightest, but he did have connections through Jak so it was possible that he'd gotten the potion identified and then sold it to someone else. It also could explain the seemingly illogical disposal of the conspirators. If the potion had been misidentified and they believed it to have a beneficial response, it would make more sense that it had been administered to them.

He spent the rest of the morning questioning every black market dealer in magical items he knew to see if anyone had come in asking for a mystery potion to be identified. He came up short. Despite the failure, the thought that perhaps the strangers' use of real potions could lend credit to the black market dealers of fake ones did hold merit. Perhaps both had simply been looking for a cure to baldness and this whole thing was one big misunderstanding.

He made his way to Levi's hut and delivered the information he'd gained – which wasn't much.

Though Rhys had tried to put it out of his mind, he kept replaying the day that he'd last seen the woman with the black and red dagger. And her comment about his mother.

"Did you know my mother when you were younger?" Rhys asked Levi out of the blue.

Levi looked up at him with surprise. "I knew of her," he answered slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"Someone recently told me that I reminded them of her because I was good with snakes." He watched Levi carefully. "And implied that she was somehow involved with the Shadow Sisters."

"How do you even know about the Shadow Sisters?" Levi asked, avoiding his actual question.

"They use daggers with black hilts and red blades. There was an assassination in the city. I did my research. You didn't answer my question."

Levi stared hard at him. "I think you should ask your mother that question," he finally answered.

Rhys's heart sank. That sort of response was not at all comforting. "Why?"

"You need to go to the palace vaults," Levi abruptly changed the subject. "Get the records of official orders sent out in the past month. Tell the Queen I asked for them. Go."

Rhys knew he was being sent on a fool's errand. Levi just wanted to get rid of him to avoid his questions. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know the answers anymore. He began to feel sick to his stomach. He tried to recall any stories that his parents had told of their youth. They had grown up together for the first part of their childhoods, after Katya had been cast out of the tribes. But then they hadn't met again until she was around Rhys's age and Katya had found her way to helping Layna. What happened in between?

The Queen didn't question his request for the official records and he soon found himself in the vaults searching for the files of communications sent and received by Lady Aria. He was so distracted by his inner turmoil that the implications and opportunities of being in the palace vaults didn't even dawn on him until he had nearly completed his task.

He was in the palace vaults where the Bloodstone was kept. And he had a reason to be there and remove items from it, and also to return to put them back. He glanced around hurriedly. The guards who came in with him had long since grown bored and were standing at the door talking amongst themselves.

He snuck farther into the vaults. A locked gate separated the outer vaults from the inner portion, but it was no match for Rhys's skills. In moments, he was beyond it. In this section, each item was categorized and housed in its own special drawer, each complete with physical locks and magical wards. If he just had a little more time he could probably clear up his debt with Jak by acquiring the contents of a single drawer.

He felt guilty even thinking of it. He would be betraying the Queen's trust as it was by borrowing the Bloodstone, even for a little while. His guilt was so strong that he almost turned around and left without taking anything, but his end goal pushed him forward.

The locks were no problem, and he quickly turned his attention to the magical wards. He wasn't strong enough of a mage to have put these wards into place nor strong enough to be able to break them. He was, however, clever enough to know how to pick wards just like one would a lock. Weaken them in the correct places, and the entire enchantment would unravel.

He felt the spell dissipating, and he hurriedly pulled open the drawer and looked at the stone within. It was a deep blood red, a little bigger than his fist and spherical. There was a large crack running throughout, stemming from a large hole near its center. He stared at it with awe for a moment before reaching in and tucking it into his tunic.

He moved back to the outer portion of the vaults and let out a relieved breath that no one had noticed. Picking up the papers he'd already gathered, he closed the drawer to the file he had abandoned during his extra mission.

As he moved to exit the vault, the Queen suddenly appeared in the doorway. She wore a disapproving expression. Rhys froze.

"I assume," the Queen said slowly, "that you have a very good reason for doing what you are doing." She paused, and watched his reaction. He said nothing. "That is an extremely dangerous artifact," she continued. "In the wrong hands, there could be disastrous results." She then did something that Rhys never would have imagined. She moved to the side, allowing him to pass unhindered from the vaults. He nodded, then slipped past her.

Rhys sprinted the entire way to Levi's, and didn't bother with pleasantries. "Here," he said shortly, plopping the massive pile of papers onto the man's table. "I have somewhere to be. I'll be back in a bit."

Levi did not respond but watched him sadly as he left. Rhys didn't want his sympathy. He didn't want his mother to be some sort of assassin. _My mother who so disapproves of_ my _lifestyle_.

He unwrinkled the paper that was stuffed in his pocket with the address to which he was to bring the Bloodstone. He felt another twinge of guilt, but pushed it aside as he sprinted to the place. Hesitating only a second, he knocked on the door. Thugs immediately drew him inside and ushered him to a back room.

Mr. Black was standing on the far side of the room, gazing out the window. At Rhys's approach, he turned to him expectantly. True to his name, his hair was jet black and his eyes almost as dark. His nose pointed in a curved arch, reminiscent of the gang's namesake: the Crows.

Rhys handed over the stone, drawing it out of his tunic while watching the multitude of henchmen out of the corner of his eye. The man was certainly paranoid.

Mr. Black turned away from him and held the broken stone up to the window. He made a low appreciative noise. "It _is_ the Bloodstone." He turned back around to face Rhys. "You have impressed me indeed, young man."

Rhys glanced around at all the men once again and clenched his teeth. He held out his hand. "The deal was that I would steal it, not that you would keep it."

Mr. Black stared at him, unflinching. Several long moments passed with no one moving, hardly breathing, as they all waited for the boss's response. Finally, he laughed.

"You are correct," he conceded. He moved forward to hand Rhys the stone.

Rhys took it warily. He nodded his thanks and took a step towards the exit, pocketing the stone. He paused before the threshold. Something wasn't right. Taking out the stone once more, he examined it carefully. The light within it glittered and shone faintly.

He spun back around. "This is a fake!" he accused, forgetting how many men surrounded the boss in his indignity. They all sprang to motion simultaneously at his outburst and he was immediately surrounded by the points of spears and swords.

Mr. Black waved them off, smiling. "The second part of your test," he stated. He drew the real Bloodstone out of his robes and held it out to Rhys. "You passed. Your mother must be so proud."

Rhys snatched it from the man. "How do you mean?" he demanded.

The man had already turned away from him and the guards around him shoved Rhys out the door. He fought against them, yelling back towards the boss. "What do you mean?"

One of the guards put a hand over his mouth. "You got what you wanted, boy. Best not lose it by running your mouth." They threw him out onto the streets. He clenched his teeth together in frustration.

*

Phoenix fingered the necklace that her mother had given her for her birthday a moment before snapping the lid to the box shut once again. She hadn't had any more strange dreams since taking it off, but that didn't really prove anything. There hadn't been any more attacks either.

A knock sounded at the door and her mother came in.

"Can I speak with you a moment?" Layna asked.

"Of course, Mother. You know you never need to ask."

"It's about your friend, Rhys."

"Oh? Did he find something?" Her mother paused and looked uncomfortable. Phoenix's heart sank. He had found something bad.

"Nothing to do with the investigation," her mother answered slowly, "but I'm not sure what he's up to."

"What do you mean?"

"He was in the palace vaults looking for documents for Levi to search through, and I caught him taking something else."

"He stole from the vaults?" Phoenix asked incredulously. She knew he wasn't always completely honest, but that seemed over the line, even for him.

"Not just anything," her mother continued. "He took the Bloodstone."

"He _what_?" Phoenix croaked. "Why on earth would he do that? If he was going to steal something there are a lot easier things in there to get money from."

"I'm not sure," her mother admitted, "but for some reason I got the feeling he was going to return it. I just can't for the life of me figure out why he would want to borrow it."

"That is very odd. And more than a little disturbing."

"So no ideas what he's up to?"

"I'm afraid not." Phoenix sighed. "I find that people don't tell me anything anymore."

Her mother picked up on her melancholy. "I'm sorry, sweetie. One of the perks of being royalty, I guess. But don't worry. When you find the right people to let in, it won't matter that you're the Princess."

Phoenix smiled at her. "I hope so."

Her mother rose and brushed off her gown. "Well, I guess whatever Rhys is up to, I'll just have to wait and see if it turns back up. Maybe his mother will have some insight."

Phoenix thought about asking her mother not to mention the incident to Rhys's mother but decided against it. She hated to see him get into trouble – and his mother was notorious for hating his mischief – but if he was getting into something that involved the Bloodstone, perhaps it was for the best.

She sat at the window for a bit, gazing out across the landscape below. It would be nice to be able to have someone to talk to without worrying about what she was or was not supposed to say as the Princess. She sighed. Rhys was a good friend and didn't treat her differently just because she was a Princess, but he wasn't exactly one to sit around and just talk either. If she needed to have a late-night secret excursion somewhere she knew who to ask, but if she wanted to talk boys or gossip, he'd disappear faster than she could blink. Wren was better at putting up with her girlish tendencies, but even so, the older they got, the more their tastes in subjects differed. And now, she didn't get to talk to him at all. Regina was her closest female friend, but even she, though she tried her best not to let it, was intimidated by Phoenix's station.

As she thought about Regina, it was suddenly announced that the girl was there. Phoenix smiled and answered the door herself. Regina gave her a quick hug and fluttered around the room. She reached out to touch something on Phoenix's dressing table, then thought better of it and retracted her hand with a nervous glance over her shoulder.

"So," she said, turning to face Phoenix, "the palace is abuzz with romance rumors about you and the dashing Lord Gavin. Do tell!" She giggled and sat next to Phoenix, crossing her legs and placing clasped hands together on her knee.

Phoenix giggled with her. "He is quite charming," she agreed amicably. "I enjoy spending time with him and admit that I can't help but take pleasure in his attention." She ached for someone to talk plainly to and decided to let down her walls just a tiny bit. "I'm not sure that he's 'the one for me', but with everything that's been happening, it is really nice to have someone who makes me feel good about myself."

Regina's smile wavered the tiniest bit before she had control of it again. "He's just a passing fancy for you?"

"Is that horrible of me?" she asked guiltily. "It is, isn't it?" She wasn't really sure what her feelings for Gavin were anymore really, but felt more comfortable denying them to Regina. She hadn't failed to notice the looks that Regina had been giving Gavin lately. Apparently his charms had been working on both of them.

Regina waved a hand at her. "Don't be silly. You're the Princess. He'll be happy to have been able to spend the time with you." She paused and pursed her lips. "You will be disappointing many people, though; I must say."

"How so?"

"As though you don't know," Regina answered, playfully tapping her on the leg. "A marriage between the First Advisor's son from old Treymayne and the Princess of old Gelendan united together as rulers of the newly united Elaeld? It's rather poetic, isn't it?"

"I guess so," Phoenix acknowledged. "A good enough match to give up a chance at a true soul-mate?" She looked wistfully out the window. "Look at my parents. They are so perfect for each other that their magics meld together to make them the most powerful mages known since before the Dark King. I'm certainly interested in Gavin, but I'm not sure that it's that kind of compatibility." Her expression darkened. "Though I won't ever really know for sure if it's real love like my parents did anyway. Not without talent."

Regina looked a bit taken-aback by her honesty. Usually, Phoenix was more reserved. To her credit, however, she went along with it. "Why not?"

"Without magic to meld together like it did with them, how would I know?"

Regina smiled. "You'll know. It's not like all love stories have magic involved. You'll see."

"I hope so." Phoenix smiled gratefully at her friend.

"So how about Wren, then? You seem to have no shortage of suitors. Any chance of a love match between the two of you?" Regina asked with a teasing tone.

Phoenix laughed. "Afraid not."

"Pity." The girl winked at her. After a few moments of silence her expression turned serious and she asked, "Any new news on the attacks?"

Phoenix sighed and shook her head, sobering at the change in topic. "No, and the two men don't seem to have gotten any better – or had any change at all."

"Well," Regina reached over and took Phoenix's hand, squeezing it. "Most people have come around to the conclusion that you had nothing to do with it, so that's something."

"Really?" Phoenix asked.

"Of course!" Regina replied as though Phoenix's surprise was silly. "Everybody loves you; some of them just got carried away with the rumors. I've been telling everyone how foolish they're being."

Phoenix squeezed Regina's hand back. "Thanks," she said emotionally, "that really means a lot to me."

*

Wren was less enthusiastic to look into Lord Frolkon and Master Banys now that he had Ketharly's plight to research. But she had told him that the Princess would have to come first. She could potentially be in danger, after all, and Ketharly could wait. But even Ketharly's encouragement didn't make it any easier to leave behind his books to go in search of the Triumvirate members.

He found Lord Frolkon in the Hall of History, a place Wren had seen him many times before. He was squinting through crinkled eyes at a giant tome. Wren walked over and cleared his throat.

"Hello, young man. Lord Wren, isn't it?" Lord Frolkon asked, looking up from his work.

"Yes, sir," Wren answered politely. "I was hoping I could have a moment of your time, sir?"

"For such a polite young fellow, you may have two," the old man answered genially. "Such manners seem hard to come by these days. What can I do for you?"

"I am doing a paper on the unification of the two halves of the country, culminated by Phoenix's ascension to the throne. I was hoping to get your input on it."

"Indeed, history is in the making." The old man closed the book he had been reading gingerly, and laid gnarly clasped hands on top of it before going off on the subject. He spoke about the ceremonies that would take place for some time, though everyone in the kingdom was well aware of the information he was giving Wren.

Wren bit his tongue and listened politely until the man came to a pause. Seeing his opportunity, Wren cut in. "Some people are expressing concern over Phoenix's lack of magic. Do you see this as a problem?"

"Absolutely not!" was the man's vehement response. "Before the current King and Queen, and excepting the short rule of that monster Nathair, when's the last time a powerful mage was in power? The Dark King! That's who. I say we're better off without mages as monarchs."

Lord Frolkon was one of those who still remembered the time before Layna's reign when magic was outlawed except to a select few. He'd spoken out against making magic legal again in Counsel meetings more than once, though this was the first time Wren had seen him quite so ferocious about the failings of magic. He appeared to even still blame magic in general for the evil that blood-magic brought to the land. Wren silently checked that box off in his head. Lord Frolkon definitely didn't think less of Phoenix for her lack of talent, nor was he likely to be someone employing the use of magic to be the one behind the attacks.

The man was finished, however, adding, "Sure, magic can make a job easier or quicker, but what will that accomplish?"

Wren simply shrugged, other than more free time he wasn't sure what answer the man was looking for.

"Making people lazy! That's what it'll do. Anything you can accomplish with magic can be done the good-old-fashioned way."

Wren didn't agree with the man's logic, but didn't bother to express his opinion. Instead, he asked, "Do you think Phoenix will make a good queen? Won't you miss your position of advising?" The question was a bit bold, but Wren hoped to cut the man short. If he asked too many more questions, the man's tangents would take up the rest of Wren's day.

"The Princess is a natural leader, a born royal. She will do famously. As for me missing my position? Fah!" The man spit as he made his sound, and Wren closed his eyes, trying not to give in to the urge to wipe it from his cheek. "I should have retired years ago, but they keep voting me back in! Finally, I'll get to go relax my old bones."

Wren hurriedly thanked him for his time and begged his leave, citing an imaginary lesson he had to attend. Once out of the Hall, he sighed in relief and wiped a sleeve across his face. He didn't have any proof of it, of course, but he was fairly certain that Frolkon was not behind the attacks or the rumors against Phoenix.

His next stop was Master Banys. He was a much younger Counselor, so hopefully Wren at least wouldn't be spit on. He had made an appointment earlier with him, though due to the man's schedule he had asked Wren to meet him at his nursery while he spent time with his newborn son.

Wren was allowed to enter immediately, and he found Banys looking frazzled holding a tiny baby. He shook the man's hand as he balanced the youngster on one arm. He had a towel draped over his shoulder and as he walked, he bounced the baby up and down. It wasn't exactly a picture that commanded respect. Wren had seen him quite a few times in Counsel meetings, and this home-life version of the man was unsettling.

"Please excuse the informal setting. I had to squeeze you in. My wife and I are trying to raise our son without nursemaids, so it can be a bit hectic." He glanced behind him to make sure she wasn't listening and then added in a whisper, "My wife's idea."

Wren couldn't help but wonder how Banys could be the imposing presence he was in Counsel and let his wife run the show at home. He asked the same introductory questions he had of Frolkon, setting up the lie that he was researching a paper about Phoenix's coronation. The younger man answered quickly, never pausing the bouncing, and avoiding the tangents that the older Frolkon had gone off on.

"Do you think that Phoenix's lack of power will be a problem?" he asked.

He could see Banys formulating his response. It was obvious that he did not hold the same distaste for magic as Frolkon did. Wren wracked his memory. Banys had a fair amount of talent himself and was probably young enough to not remember much of the time when it was banned.

"I think that it's disappointing that she never got to develop the full potential that her powers could have amounted to with the King and Queen being what they are," he answered carefully. "But it's very honorable that she sacrificed her talent for the good of the people. I myself lost an uncle to the Bricrui disease before she cured it. Having talent is not a prerequisite for the throne, as much as people may now think otherwise since Layna's rule resurfaced the idea, and I for one think that the Princess's other talents will fully make up for any shortcoming."

Wren moved a bit closer, putting his finger out. The tiny boy grabbed hold of it in his fist. Despite himself, Wren had to admit the tiny human was rather cute. Removing his finger before the child guided it into his mouth – which was beginning to show teeth – Wren continued with his questions.

"And will you miss your position as part of the Triumvirate as it is absorbed into the Counsel? Do you feel that especially because of this lack of magic she still needs you to act in your current capacity?"

The man actually laughed out loud, drawing his wife's attention in the next room. The moment Wren laid eyes on Banys's wife, he no longer wondered why he had consented to anything the woman pleased. She was possibly the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen – excepting Ketharly. Wren would forego the nursemaids to spend more time in her company too.

Unfortunately, his wife's arrival made Banys turn around, and at just that moment, his son decided to spit up directly onto Wren's front. He sucked in his breath. _That could not have just happened_ , he thought. Only it had. Banys and his wife immediately began apologizing. As the woman helped to clean him up, Banys answered his question.

"No," Banys stated emphatically. "I will most definitely _not_ miss the extra work of this position. We just found out we're expecting again," he had a slightly frantic tone, though he smiled broadly at his wife as she glanced up sharply at him, "which we are so excited about. But Phoenix's coronation cannot come soon enough."

"Thank you," Wren concluded, looking down at his ruined shirt. "I think that about wraps up my questions." He bid them both goodbye and left as quickly as propriety would allow, looking to be out of range of the spewing child before he chose to excrete something again. He made a mental note never to agree to forego nursemaids.

He tracked Rhys down to deliver the news, and found the boy in short order.

"Well," he reported, "I don't think either of the other Triumvirate members have any reason to want Phoenix discredited or time and energy to plan the attacks."

"What's that on your shirt?" Rhys asked.

"Don't ask," Wren answered, walking away. "Don't ask."
CHAPTER 11

Rhys tossed a knife into the air, flipping it, and then caught it again. He repeated it again and again while Levi looked through more and more paperwork. He'd asked Rhys to come pick up the documents to bring them back to the vaults, but had then found one last stack to sort through as soon as Rhys arrived. Rather than make the trek twice, he had opted to simply wait around. He threw the knife up again.

Levi suddenly looked up from the papers he was combing through with a concerned expression. "I found something," he said. Rhys nearly cut his hand in half as his concentration was broken and he lost track of the blade's spin. Luckily, he corrected his grab just in time and caught it, putting the knife away in his belt.

"Well?" Rhys prompted when the obvious follow-up wasn't forthcoming.

"Not only were people plotting against the Princess to discredit her, but it appears that something has prompted them to more definitive action. This letter is dated just yesterday."

"What do you mean by definitive action?"

"I believe they plan to kill her," Levi answered ominously. "Today."

"Who is it?" Rhys demanded.

In response, Levi lifted the papers so that Rhys could see. Suddenly forgetting everything else, Rhys sprinted back to the palace.

*

Someone knocked at her door. Princess Phoenix put down her book to answer, waving away Natalya's offer to get it for her. The door cracked open and Gavin's smiling face appeared beyond it.

"Good morning, Princess," he said, producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

Phoenix took them gratefully. After everything that had been going on, the sweet gesture made her smile. "Thank you, Lord Gavin. That's very kind of you."

"I was hoping you might want to walk with me?" he said questioningly, extending his elbow to her.

Phoenix took it, and he led her out of her rooms. Natalya and the others trailed along behind.

"Have you heard about the demonstration that the heralds are putting on to show how their potions work?" she asked as they strolled through the stone passages. "It's meant to be for the children, but I admit I think it sounds interesting myself."

"I hadn't, but that does sound interesting." He smiled charmingly. "Shall we go see?"

"Please," she nodded, pointing down the next hall which would lead them to the gardens where the heralds would be demonstrating.

When they reached the gardens, it was soon apparent that they weren't the only ones who thought the show wasn't just for the children. People filled every balcony above and crowded into the open space around the two heralds.

As they neared one of the last free spaces, Herald Siajan spotted them and waved them closer with a greeting and a bow. Phoenix obligingly approached. Apologizing to the people she displaced, none of whom seemed the least bit put out having to step aside and sit next to her, she curtsied to the heralds.

"We heard you were going to show off some magic," she said loudly so that everyone in attendance could hear. "And we apparently weren't the only ones." Her statement, though obvious, caused a tittering of laughter from the crowd. It seemed the people were in an excited state and ready to be pleased.

"Indeed," Herald Siajan began, flourishing his cape to the side to reveal the many bottles within. The crowd gasped and applauded. He smirked at the reaction and held the position until the noise died down. The herald was apparently quite the showman. As silence spread over the gardens, he reached into a pouch on his belt and drew out a small bottle about the size of the tip of his thumb.

Herald Kedum took up the commentary. "In this tiny bottle, the great Alchemist has harnessed the power of the sun. When shaken," he paused, holding a hand out to Siajan who dutifully shook the bottle, "it will light up the space before you." Even in the daylight, the brightness of the bottle could be seen. Siajan suddenly spurred to motion, making a throwing motion towards the ground as if he was going to smash the bottle against it. But he didn't, and as soon as the crowd quieted down, Kedum explained once again. "If it were to be smashed, the potion would burst into a blinding flash of light, useful to distract and escape if attacked."

Herald Siajan now spoke, tucking away that bottle and producing another. "This one is an illusion." He gestured to Phoenix. "Princess, if I may beg your assistance?" He held out a hand, and she took it graciously, rising from her position to stand beside him. He opened the bottle and took out a peacock feather. It was cut into two triangles. Phoenix watched him curiously. He dipped the feather into the potion and moved towards her. He paused with the feather a hands-length from her face. "May I?"

She nodded her approval. He brushed the feather against her cheeks in a flowing motion, tickling her, and she felt a strange sensation wash over her skin. The crowd gasped appreciatively, and she wished that she was not the object of the demonstration so that she could see. Luckily, Siajan produced a mirror out of another pocket in his robes and held it up so she could admire the result as well.

The reflection looking back at her was stunning. She recognized her eyes and mouth, but most of her face seemed to now be inexplicably covered in a beautiful mask. She lifted a hand to her face but felt nothing. It was truly an illusion of an elaborate peacock headpiece worthy of the finest masquerade ball.

When the applause died down, Siajan lifted a hand to her face again, this time with a damp cloth. He rubbed it over the same area he'd applied the potion, and again she felt a tingling sensation. When he lifted the mirror again, the illusion was gone.

"All it takes is the removal of the potion, and the effects disappear." He thanked Phoenix and led her gallantly back to her seat before returning his attention to the crowd. Kedum had been busily setting up something on a table behind him, and Siajan glanced back at him. The other man gave a small nod and Siajan turned to the crowd with a smile.

"Do we have any volunteers for a bit more?"

Every hand in the garden shot straight up. Herald Siajan made a show of selecting the perfect kids. He sent these to the table where they all stood fidgeting with excitement. Kedum handed them each something small. It was hard to tell, but Phoenix thought they were bits of fur and more feathers. Once all the children were picked and each had an item, Siajan handed Kedum the bottom he had used to make Phoenix's mask. Kedum held it before each child, one by one. They dipped their items into the potion and waited to be told what to do with them.

Once he got to the end of the line, Kedum picked up a small pebble from the ground and plopped it into the bottle. It made a tiny splashing sound, audible in the silent garden as everyone held their breaths. Then he moved to the back of the table and turned his attention to Siajan. The crowd followed suit, and Siajan took up the lead.

"Now, you," he pointed to the little girl on the end. "What's your name, my dear?"

"Laurel," she replied shyly.

"Alright, Laurel. I would like you to turn to the young man next to you and run your potioned tuft of fur over a part of his face. Be careful of his eyes, though; we don't want anyone getting poked." He spoke gently to the girl, putting her at ease.

The little girl turned and examined the boy a moment, then drew the fur in a delicate line across his forehead. Immediately, the illusion sprang to being. It soon became apparent that the fur she held must be from a bull, as two large horns sprang out from the boy's head. Phoenix's eyes widened in awe. She wondered how it must have looked to have the mask suddenly appear on her. The horns looked like they hurt, but of course it was only illusion, and the little boy didn't flinch.

Siajan went down the line. The crowd gasped and laughed as the children sprouted pig noses, rabbit ears, whiskers out their cheeks, and scaly skin. After he got to the last child, he set them loose on one another, until each of their faces was such a mixture of different animals that they all looked silly.

"Thank you, children, thank you!" Siajan clapped each of them on the back and shook their hands. They went back to their seats, some wiping off the potion with wipes that Siajan provided, and some – mostly the boys – keeping it on and making animal noises at one another.

"Now, if I could have Herald Kedum come forward," Siajan began, looking behind him.

He trailed off. Phoenix looked as well only to see that Kedum had disappeared.

Herald Siajan threw his hands in the air and looked to the children. "Wherever did he go?"

Phoenix wondered the same, as she had been too preoccupied watching the children transform to see where Kedum had gone to. Several of the children near the back of the table, however, seemed to have been more observant. One of them stood and moved forward cautiously, his hand far out in from of him pointing to the ground.

"There! There he is!" he said, pointing to a large rock on the ground. Had Phoenix not been strolling through these gardens since she had first learned to walk, she wouldn't have noticed anything out of place about the very large boulder that was suddenly behind the table. As it was, she recognized that it must be Kedum with the illusion of a stone.

Kedum-the-rock rose. It was an extremely interesting scene to witness – a stone suddenly moving with human shape. Siajan jumped back theatrically, and the children laughed. Kedum moved – presumably wiping the potion off his head – and the stone suddenly had his face.

"Amusing and useful," Kedum said.

Siajan beamed and turned to the crowd again. "I'm told that one of the impressive things about our magic is the lack of talent required to use it. Any of you who 'touch the power'," he still said the words with some trepidation, though he appeared to be getting used to the idea, "will notice that at no time during that demonstration was the power around us disturbed."

The two heralds did quite a show, demonstrating not only their incredible array of potions, but also their charismatic personalities. Though Siajan was the more natural of the two, Kedum proved he could be quite the charmer as well. Phoenix noticed more than one lady in the crowd beginning to fan themselves.

Phoenix clapped with the rest of the crowd before they took a small break. Regina appeared beside them, apparently having shoved her way through the crowd, and sat down next to Gavin. Phoenix smiled at her around him. Regina smiled back and held up several sweetrolls. She handed one to Gavin who took it gratefully, and held one out for Phoenix.

Phoenix took the sweetroll politely but didn't eat it right off. She set it on her lap and leaned back on her hands. Gavin ate his quickly, licking his fingers. He thanked and complimented Regina who beamed at the praise. Phoenix could see the flirtation in Regina's eyes and felt a strange sense of jealously at the attention Gavin focused on the other girl.

He then leaned back on his hands as well, his left one just overlapping Phoenix's right. His pinky and ring finger brushed lightly over hers. She was surprised by the thrill the touch sent through her. Perhaps her feelings towards the boy weren't as platonic as she had convinced herself they were. She had been holding out for some amazing event to prove whether or not it was meant to be, but perhaps Regina was right; magic didn't have to be involved. Maybe it was just this feeling that meant it was real.

She glanced up and found him looking at her. She smiled and didn't move her hand.

"Aren't you going to eat your sweetroll?" Regina asked.

Phoenix glanced at Regina with annoyance, though she masked any from showing on her face as she gave her a smile. She reluctantly removed her hand and sat forward to nibble at the roll. She then passed along her praise to Regina as well. The girl wore a rather smug expression as Phoenix swallowed the last bit. The heralds had resumed their show, though it was becoming increasingly clear that it was no longer geared towards children. The younger ones were beginning to look bored as more and more adults and mages asked increasingly technical questions.

Gavin leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Do you mind if we go somewhere a little more private?" He glanced over at the mages in her entourage who were all listening to the heralds with rapt attention. "I hate to tear your mages away from this discussion, but I must admit it's getting rather tedious for those of us who aren't professionals."

Phoenix nodded. She had lost the train of conversation several questions back. She rose from the grass and caught Siajan's eye. She curtsied deeply to him once again.

He paused his explanation to bow back to her. "Thank you, Princess, for your audience. We hope that our demonstration was informative."

She nodded. "Extremely, and I thank you both for providing it. I'm afraid that duties call me elsewhere, but I appreciate the opportunity to learn more about your great empire and your customs."

Formalities out of the way, she moved as inconspicuously as possible out of the gardens. Before leaving, however, she turned to the mages and held out a hand.

"Why don't you stay and see what you can learn from them? I'm sure that I'll be alright for the afternoon in Natalya and Alina's company. There is much to be learned by those who understand the explanations staying here." Natalya looked ready to argue but closed her mouth before any words came out. She apparently thought that learning more about the strangers' magic would be more beneficial than the mages following Phoenix around on a walk as well. Natalya nodded to the mages, giving them leave at stay as well, and they eagerly returned to the discussion behind them.

"That was kind of you," Gavin commented, gallantly moving aside to allow her to go through the archway out of the gardens first.

Regina watched Phoenix go with an odd expression, and the princess idly wondered about the girl's strange behavior. She soon forgot it, however, as Gavin drew her into conversation. Before they had gone far, they ran into Gavin's mother.

"Lady Aria," Gavin greeted her in a stiff voice.

"Gavin. Princess." Lady Aria nodded to both. "I was hoping to find you here."

Phoenix was surprised and couldn't stop an eyebrow from rising. "Oh?"

Lady Aria cleared her throat daintily. "I was hoping that I could entice the two of you to have lunch with me."

Gavin interrupted Phoenix before she could answer.

"I'm afraid not today. We'll have to take a rain check. We were just on our way to the towers. And we just ate."

"Oh." The lady was clearly disappointed, and Phoenix felt a knot of guilt in her stomach. "Are you sure? I had the cooks make your favorite," she offered hopefully.

Gavin's face darkened. "How would you know what my favorite is?" he asked icily.

Phoenix's discomfort grew. She hated to see the two of them at such odds. Gavin glanced over at her and his expression immediately softened. He gave her a small nod and turned back to his mother. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. It's very thoughtful of you to have found out what I liked. Perhaps we could do something tomorrow."

Lady Aria did not look satisfied, but she nodded. "Tomorrow, then." She glanced at Phoenix. "Will you be able to join us as well, Princess?"

"It would be my pleasure, Lady Aria. Thank you for the invitation."

Gavin gave the woman a small bow and led Phoenix away. Phoenix glanced back over her shoulder to see Lady Aria sadly watching them go. Her mouth moved as if she had thought of saying something else to persuade him, but whatever it was, she didn't say it out loud.

Her gut ached at the woman's pain. At least she thought that was what it was. She was beginning to feel rather strange...

*

Wren left the library with a sigh. _Another dead end_. It seemed that there was nothing in any book about transforming a unicorn back into a human. Apparently, this type of magic was associated with blood-magic, though other ways of doing it were obviously possible, and therefore all traces of it had been erased during the book burnings after the Dark King's reign.

As he plodded down the hall, something hard suddenly ran straight into him. As he righted himself and his assailant, he saw that it was Rhys. The boy had a wild look on his face, and he was panting. Rhys grabbed hold of his shoulders roughly and shouted into his face breathlessly.

"The Princess is in danger. Find her!"

"What are you talking about? What danger?"

"The people behind the attacks, they've decided to abandon their efforts to discredit her and just kill her instead. And it's supposed to happen today!"

"Who is? What?" Wren's mind was reeling. _Phoenix in danger?_

"It's Gavin and his father Noam, they're plotting to kill her!"

"Gavin? No...that can't be." Wren's blood ran cold. Hadn't he just seen the two of them walking together? Where had they been heading? "Are you sure?"

Rhys looked frantic and snapped, "Yes, I'm sure. We've got to stop him. I don't know what the plan is exactly, but you need to find the Princess and warn her. I'm going to get the Queen. Got it?"

Wren nodded vigorously and took off at a run himself.
CHAPTER 12

Gavin and Phoenix reached the top of the tower where a large oak door led out onto the battlements. He turned to Phoenix and then looked down at the floor, embarrassed. Phoenix tilted her head at him.

"What is it?"

"I was hoping," he started, pausing to clear his throat, "that I might be able to speak with you privately for a moment," he said hopefully, glancing towards the door.

Natalya looked about to protest, but Phoenix cut her off. "There're guards at the other tower and no one on the battlements. We'll be fine." Phoenix ignored the knot that was getting tighter in her stomach; it was probably just butterflies at the thought of being alone with Gavin.

The woman looked disgruntled, but she nodded reluctantly. Gavin beamed. Phoenix wasn't sure if her new interest in Gavin was something real, or if she was simply grasping at the hope of someone with whom she could make a greater connection. Gavin was, after all, almost equal to her in status so it would make sense that he'd be able to look past her station. Part of her urged her to dissuade him before it went too far, but another part – which was growing stronger the more attention he lavished on her – wanted to see it all play out.

Gavin opened the door to the battlements for Phoenix and ushered her outside. They strolled along the wall and peered at the people far below.

"It's beautiful up here," Gavin commented.

The sun shone briefly from behind the clouds and Phoenix squinted up at it. A moment later it retreated behind them once more. "Yes," she agreed, and glanced shyly at him. "So what did you want to talk about?" She felt another pang of guilt, knowing that at the very least she shouldn't be prompting his attentions even if she had convinced herself to let him continue. Regina's words had made her think that she should perhaps give him a chance rather than hold out for some magical event that would link her to her soul-mate, but even so she still wasn't convinced that she liked him romantically. And she felt guilt over Regina's interest in him as well, especially when she was not convinced of her own feelings. She turned off her thoughts and just let the moment flow over her.

He stopped walking and turned to her. A slight breeze blew a stray hair across his forehead, and he fluidly pressed it back into place. "You must be getting very depressed about all the things that people are saying about you."

Phoenix was caught off-guard. That was not what she thought he was about to say. "I guess a little," she agreed, not sure where Gavin was going with this.

"They say you can read minds, you know," he went on, taking a small step towards her. "There are even those who think you've figured out how to use that talent to hurt people with your mind."

She searched his eyes and then glanced behind her. There was something strange going on here. "I know," she stated as she turned once again to him, trying to read his expression. He stared quietly back at her unnervingly. "You can't really believe those rumors, can you?" she asked him pleadingly, the hairs on the back of her neck beginning to rise. She took a step away from him, her gaze flying back and forth between his eyes. They stared back at her flatly, a smile plastered on his face. Her back hit the edge of the battlement wall.

Gavin laughed. "Of course I don't believe the rumors." Phoenix relaxed the slightest bit, but then his expression darkened. "If you could read minds, you would have known what I was up to."

Phoenix's eyes grew wide. She opened her mouth to yell to Natalya, but she found that her body was no longer listening to her commands. Her jaw felt like it was glued shut.

Gavin laughed again, softer and more menacingly this time. "Oh, you won't be able to yell for help, little Princess. You see, you may not have any talent left in you, but I do."

She pleaded with her eyes.

"Don't give me that look," he sneered. "It's not my fault your guilt and shame at being such a freak are driving you to such extreme measures." His expression turned to one of feigned sadness, and she regained enough control of her head to look behind her. An opening in the battlement wall was threateningly close, and the ground was horribly far below. She would never survive a fall. She struggled against her invisible bonds.

Looking back at Gavin, she saw him watching her with amusement, a tiny smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He was enjoying her fear and helplessness. Anger lent her energy and she whipped her hand around to connect with his face.

There wasn't enough power behind the blow to do any real damage, but the smirk disappeared. She let out a short triumphant breath. However, her satisfaction was cut short as she felt her feet being forced into motion. Against her will, she climbed the thick battlement wall. She willed her lips to move, and she spoke through clenched teeth. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" he asked incredulously, "Why? Why should you get to be the ruler of the united countries? Why not me? My mother is Lady Aria, First Advisor of the Treymayne council. Treymayne is a greater country than the weakling Gelendan, which has fallen prey twice to the devious minds of the Dark King and King Nathair."

She was allowed to speak, though no louder than a whisper. "They were controlled by the evil essence of the dragon-god Nuko, and it was my mother and father who defeated him," she answered without thinking, then cursed inwardly. Defending her parents' honor wasn't important at this moment. "I didn't ask to be chosen as the next ruler," she said sincerely.

Gavin's voice grew quieter as well. "And we didn't plan on having you die," he said, with almost a touch of regret in his voice. "I did grow fond of you these past weeks." He stroked the side of her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. You could have been my wife."

"If your plan was to marry me, why do all this to discredit me? Won't killing me defeat the purpose?"

He laughed humorlessly. "The plan wasn't to marry you, nor even originally to kill you though it certainly will expedite the process. The plan was only to make people see the truth: that you are unfit to rule. I don't need a marriage to exalt my status, you and I are equals." He paused a moment in thought. "No, we are not equal. The people would eventually come around to realizing that I am a much _better_ choice and far more qualified than you." He looked at her appraisingly. "I must admit that I did enjoy toying with the idea of taking you as my wife anyway. The idea was not totally unappealing." His gaze dropped down the length of her, then slowly drew back up to meet her eyes once again. "I spent time with you purely to make you tell me your secrets to lend truth to the rumors, but I did enjoy your company."

He paused in thought, and Phoenix felt her controlled motion momentarily pause as well. Her mind raced. As she glanced around, looking for anything to help her, he went on, "But you would be too much trouble, the people inexplicably still love you despite my obvious superiority. The rumors should have been enough to discredit you, and you would simply have been cast aside to make way for me to take my rightful place. You needn't have died if only you had stepped down." He looked at her contemptuously. "You don't even have enough talent to stop me. What kind of queen would you be?"

"The people will not make you King simply because I am gone," she tried to tell him. He was largely regarded as a royal because of his mother's long-standing position, but that wouldn't be enough to place him on the throne, no matter what he seemed to think.

"Of course they will," he spat back. From his tone, it was clear that she wouldn't be able to make him see the truth.

Phoenix felt herself pushed farther forward, and she whimpered.

"Despite your annoying ability to inspire loyalty, I still might have been able to save you, but someone has forced our hand. I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear, and then backed away before shouting. "No! Phoenix, don't!"

Phoenix saw the crowd below looking up and pointing as her arms were forced outwards from her sides. She sucked in her breath and blinked back tears. Screaming sounded below and Phoenix heard the door slamming against the stone wall as it burst open. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Natalya and the others surging outwards just as her view descended down past the top of the wall.

Above, Gavin made a half-hearted attempt to rush forward and grab her, his hands ever-so-close to clutching her skirts before she went over the edge. Natalya raced across the battlement, closing the distance between them with record speed, but she reached Phoenix too late to stop her fall.

The ground rushed towards her.

*

Rhys left Wren to find the Princess and raced through the palace towards the Council chambers. This time of day the Queen was sure to be there.

He banged open the door loudly, and rushed inside. Guards immediately surrounded him, halting his movement. The Queen looked up with an astonished expression.

"Your Majesty," he announced without preamble and without regard for the others in the room. "It's Noam and Gavin. They're going to try and kill her."

The Queen stood, knocking over her chair in her haste and addressed an aide. "Where is my daughter?"

The aide stared blankly back at her with a scared expression.

"Find her!" the Queen roared. Her eyes flashed white a moment and then met with the King's which were blazing as well. Something passed between them, and the air in the room nearly tingled as they performed a spell.

Then they both disappeared.

*

Wren raced as fast as he could to the Princess's chambers, but when he arrived, she wasn't there. One of her maids, a young woman named Alisha looked surprised when he burst into the room.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Where's Phoenix?" he demanded. "She's in trouble."

"She's taking a walk with Lord Gavin to the north tower, I believe," she answered, turning white. "What kind of trouble?"

Wren didn't bother answering. He rushed out the door and towards the tower. He hoped he wasn't too late. As he reached the top of the tower, he heard screams and saw guards rushing out onto the battlements.

His heart leapt into his throat. _Oh no_...

*

Below Phoenix, the crowd let out a unified gasp. She looked up, where the sun had peeked out from behind the clouds once more, blinding her, and she let out a silent prayer. _So this is to be the end_...

Her dress suddenly caught on something, and she reflexively reached for it. A large nail had worked itself loose, creating a spot on the smooth wall that she could gain purchase. Though it cut her hands and wrenched her arms nearly out of their sockets, she grabbed hold of the nail and didn't let go. Unfortunately, the nail wasn't nearly as determined to hold onto the wall. It held for a moment, but then slipped free sending her back into her fall.

She screamed, the ground rushing up to meet her. People below were scrambling around, some trying to position themselves under her to catch her, others trying madly to get out of the way. She was close enough to the faces on the ground to see the whites of their eyes, wide with fear and surprise, when her motion suddenly halted, her scream cut short as the air in her lungs was forced out. She hung there in midair, panting, her adrenaline pumping like mad, for several long moments. Then, ever so slowly, she began to rise.

As she blinked her eyes, Natalya's face appeared over the battlement walls, peering down at Phoenix as she rose towards her. Gavin was shoved out of the way, where he blubbered about trying to stop her to the guards who held his arms. Many hands enveloped her from above, pulling her to safety. One of the knights removed his cloak and placed it protectively around her shoulders.

"What in the world do you think you're doing, Princess?" Natalya asked her, bewildered.

Phoenix opened her mouth to speak out about Gavin, to tell them that he made her do it, but once again her own body betrayed her. Her mouth clamped shut, and her throat closed. Gavin stood there, glaring at her.

She gasped for air, but none could make it past her squeezed throat. Stars danced before her eyes and her vision blurred. Natalya's bewildered face wavered before her, and she reached out to try and catch herself as her knees gave way beneath her. She tried desperately to gesture to Gavin, to let them know that he was doing it, but Natalya's face remained confused.

Darkness began to close in around her vision. It began at the edges and slowly worked its ominous way inwards. The pressure on her throat increased.

And then it stopped. Gavin's glare turned to an expression of surprise as his eyes fixed on something behind Natalya. Phoenix gasped for air, her eyes wide and on Gavin.

She followed his gaze and shuddered at the sight. Alina's hood was thrown back, and the woman was staring at Gavin with white sightless eyes. Red scars across her face seemed fresh, though they must be many years old, and the intensity of her look was enough to stop him in his tracks. Phoenix knew it was more than that. Most believed that like Natalya, her silent sister was without magic. In fact, she was a most powerful mage.

Wren was suddenly on the battlement with them, and he threw himself at Gavin. "It's him! He's a traitor!" he yelled before Gavin's magic threw him into the stone wall.

Gavin turned his attention back to Alina and he sneered at her now that he could no longer pretend. "You can't stop me."

He obviously underestimated her. Phoenix could see him try and focus his power on the woman. It was rebuffed without so much as a blink of her eerie eyes, and his form went limp. Phoenix strained against the guards to go to Wren's side. He was rubbing his head, but didn't appear to have been otherwise hurt.

"Is it safe to assume that this young man had something to do with your crazed behavior?" Natalya asked, comprehension finally dawning on her bewildered face. At Phoenix's nod, she added, "So I don't need to worry about you trying to throw yourself over the side of the wall as we walk back?"

Phoenix shook her head, but the guard whose cloak she wore kept his hand on her arm regardless. At this moment, Phoenix didn't mind. She was in too much shock. Gavin had been her friend, and she had been toying with the possibility of him being something more. How could she have been so blind to his deception?

Her parents sudden appeared, their faces blazing with anger. A newly conscious Gavin cowered behind the guards holding him. As the monarchs spotted their daughter, the anger melted and they rushed over, showering Phoenix with kisses and embracing her. They spoke briefly with Natalya and checked on her once again before disappearing with Gavin in tow. Wren came over and laid a hand on her arm awkwardly, and she mustered up a smile for him.

The walk back to her rooms passed in a blur, and Phoenix hardly took in anything around her. Natalya opened the door to the Princess's rooms, but the guard with Phoenix held her back until the room had been checked. Finally, Phoenix was allowed inside and she collapsed onto the couch. She hardly knew how much time passed before her parents came bursting into the room.

"Are you sure you're alright?" her mother asked, holding her daughter's face between her hands and examining her. Layna picked up Phoenix's left hand where she had scraped it against the nail, flailing to grab hold. It was already scabbed over and hardly hurt. Layna brushed a hand over it and it completely healed instantaneously. Usually her mother let her wounds heal naturally as a reminder of whatever silly thing she had done to receive them but not today. Phoenix was reminded of her mother's power and Gavin's words. _Perhaps he was right_.

"I'm fine," she assured her mother, taking back her hand and giving her father a smile. "Natalya and Alina took good care of me."

"Not good enough, Majesties. I'm so sorry," Natalya interjected. "I should never have let that scoundrel take her out there alone. If it hadn't been for Alina's magic we would have been too late to stop him. I failed you."

Layna waved away her apology. "She's alright; that's all that matters. Besides, you didn't fail me. The two of you saved her. You couldn't have known that it wouldn't be safe for her to have a moment of privacy with someone who was trusted in the court. Gavin and Noam had us all fooled."

"Noam, too?" Phoenix asked.

"Yes," King Gryffon answered. "Apparently it's been the two of them behind the rumors all along. We just received word right before your incident that they were involved. They are being questioned right now."

"Gavin said that he should be ruler," Phoenix said bitterly. "He was convinced that with me out of the way the people would come to see that he was more fit to be the rightful monarch." She picked at a loose string on the blanket someone had slung over her. "Did Lady Aria have anything to do with this?" she asked, fearing the answer. Aria had been like an aunt to her, albeit a rather non-hands-on one, and she hated to think that she could have betrayed her as well.

Queen Layna sighed. "At this point, it appears not. We believe the only thing Aria is guilty of is her own naïveté." Layna glanced at Gryffon and added under her breath, "Again."

Phoenix was too relieved to question this odd comment.

Her father continued. "The Council is in an uproar, and a full inquisition into the matter will be carried out. It seems that Noam had convinced Aria to have his relatives raise the boy in their home – a custom which is no longer widely used but still in practice – until he came of age. Aria says she was overwhelmed with the duties of being the First Advisor and thought it might be best until the two countries were united under your rule and her responsibilities lessened."

"And that date kept getting pushed back further and further on the Treymayne's Council members' recommendations. This was influenced in large part by Aria, upon the convincing of Noam to do so. She says that he filled her with lies as to the people's readiness to have the unification happen, and she trusted her husband."

"How long has Noam been planning this?" Phoenix wondered out loud.

"I doubt we'll ever get a straight answer out of him," her mother said sourly. "I never did like him."

"But the good news is, we know who was behind the awful rumors. The last conspirator has been identified and brought into custody. We're weeding out any others that played any part in their scheme now. Tomorrow we'll make the official announcement."

Phoenix's mother squeezed her hand. "It will all be over soon."
CHAPTER 13

Rhys walked down the hallway, deep in thought. Now that the Princess was safe and the source of the rumors identified, he had nothing to distract him from his own problems. The Bloodstone had been safely returned, and the Queen had not mentioned the incident, but that was not the most pressing matter at the moment.

He had spent the afternoon trying to figure out how to keep Jak from killing him. The deadline he'd imposed ended tonight, and even if Rhys didn't show up for the meeting, Jak would hunt him down. Two weeks hadn't been nearly long enough to come up with the ridiculous sum of five hundred gold, even if he had used his _connections_. While he could tell his mother about his predicament, and probably be assigned guards for the rest of his life to ensure his survival, it would put a damper on the rest of his plan. Even though Jak wanted to kill him, Jak was just a crony. Rhys now had the respect of three of the four main gangs in the city. He couldn't afford to have guards following him around now that his ideas were actually taking shape. And besides, he hadn't spoken to his mother since he'd found out that she may have been involved in even worse dealings than him. _And yet still has the gall to admonish me for my choices_. He took the purse out of his pocket and examined the contents.

Rhys had gathered as much of the money for the debt as he could, including the fifty gold from the Queen. He even sold his prized possessions in order to attempt to make a dent in the outrageous amount, but it still fell short. He should have known better than to borrow money from the slippery man in the first place.

Rhys had first become involved with Jak when a street child of no more than five had been found dead from an overdose of the Sparkle Dust drug. While Rhys had less sympathy for those who chose to ruin their lives with the stuff as adults, he was appalled that such a young child had been able to get his hands on it. Rhys's investigation into the matter had resulted in the discovery of a rogue faction of the gang and a face-to-face with its leader. The leader of the Falcons, the same gang that Jak was a part of, agreed that the matter with the child was unacceptable and had been impressed with Rhys's assessment of what needed to change to prevent it. He also appreciated Rhys's discovery of the men who had been ripping him off while selling to children. As the leader had said, it wasn't profitable for him to have his underlings killing off the people who would make him money. Rhys would be happy if his involvement saved even one child's life in the future. The whole matter had sparked Rhys's master plan, and the Falcon's leader had pointed him in the direction of Jak, a loan shark, when he had brought the plan to him. In order to make it work, all of the major gangs in the city – the Shadow Sisters, the Crows, the Falcons, and the Hawks – would have to agree to it.

He swirled his fingers around in the sad offering of his coin purse. He had also entertained the idea of stealing another artifact from the vaults. Queen Layna had trusted him the first time, after all. But after he returned the Bloodstone, he felt an immediate strengthening of the wards that protected them. He doubted he'd be able to get in a second time. Besides, he didn't want to betray the Queen's trust; she also had a vital part to play in his plans.

He could ask the leader of the Falcons for a reprieve – as Jak's superior he'd be in a position to grant it – but this course of action was likely to lose the respect Rhys had gained with him. It was even possible that the man's suggestion that he go to Jak was a test in and of itself. It certainly tested Rhys's resolve to complete the project by having to deal with the man.

Sighing, he resigned himself to the inevitable. He would simply have to face Jak with what meager amount he'd been able to come up with and plead for mercy and more time.

Rhys moved amongst the shadows of the city. Evening was fast approaching, and vendors were packing up their wares. He was in a dark mood, and didn't even bother snatching the purse that was just begging to be grabbed from a young woman's belt.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He froze, detecting the presence of several other shadows in the alley with him. He braced himself for an attack.

"Be at ease," said a voice. "We come only with a message."

Rhys didn't let his guard down, nor the knives he now held before him. "What's the message?" he asked warily. Perhaps Jak knew he hadn't the money and had decided to do away with him without bothering to hear him out.

"You contacted our boss and asked him for something," the voice continued. Rhys relaxed the tiniest of bits. He had almost forgotten that he was still awaiting the third and final request that could complete his plans. It seemed pointless now that Jak was about to kill him anyway. A token was slipped to him that indicated that these people were indeed from the Hawks.

The voice went on, "For this, he asks something in return."

Rhys waited.

"You know of the Lady Alina?"

Rhys nodded guardedly.

"She wears a ring on her left hand. Index finger. Bring it to us."

The shadows disappeared before Rhys could ask how he was supposed to contact them when he acquired the ring. _If I acquire it_ , he corrected himself. He thought of the Lady Alina and shuddered. How was he supposed to steal anything from her, let alone an object she carried on her person? He conjured up an image of the ring from his memory. It was a plain-looking ring, but the design would be too difficult to counterfeit. More likely than not, the Hawk's boss would have someone watching Lady Alina and the proof of Rhys's success would be in its absence rather than being able to authenticate the ring itself anyway. How else would they have known of its existence unless they already had someone watching her? Rhys only knew because it was his habit to categorize and assign figures to people's possessions. The ring he'd chalked up to no more than a trinket, worth no more than the metal it was made out of. But that wasn't the challenge. The challenge was that it belonged to Lady Alina. And that made the task nearly impossible.

Rhys deflated. It probably wouldn't matter anyway. He'd most likely be dead before the night was over.

The building looked darker and more ominous than it did normally, and Rhys paused at the door. He took a deep breath and knocked. No one answered. He knocked again. There was a rustling inside, and finally the door cracked open.

An eye appeared in the crack. "Who're you?"

"Um, I'm Rhys," he stammered, "I'm supposed to meet with Jak."

The eye disappeared and Rhys heard the man yell, "It's someone named Rhys. Lookin' for Jak."

"Let him in," another voice commanded. It was Jessup.

The door opened wider, and Rhys moved forward, furrowing his brow. The man who had answered led him into the adjacent chamber. Instead of the usual sea of semi-lifeless bodies strewn over the floor, the room was packed full of very lively – and very agitated – men.

"Ah, Rhys," Jessup greeted him, smiling with what teeth he had left. "Come to pay up have you?"

"Where's Jak?" Rhys asked, eyeing the men closing in around them.

"Jak is _indisposed_ ," Jessup said, obviously repeating the word from someone who actually knew what it meant. Several men around him sneered. As usual, Jessup didn't know when to shut up. He continued, "Seems he musta gotten into a little too much of his own goods. Knocked 'im out but good. Real bad trip." He grinned at Rhys. "So it looks like your debt to him is now a debt to me."

Rhys glanced around and saw more sneers. Obviously, Jessup's hold on the position was a tenuous one. "When did that happen?" he asked, trying to buy time.

"A week or two ago," the man answered, too dull to even consider not doing so. Not that it mattered, Rhys was only buying time, but had it been Jak still in charge Rhys was sure to have gotten laid out flat for asking questions.

Rhys's mind whirled for a means to escape. There were too many of the thugs to push through, and they'd circled around behind him. The window to the right was too small to get through, and he'd have to smash it through first anyway. _A couple weeks. Jak has been gone for almost the entire deadline countdown. To think, if I had only known I might have avoided this mess_. _With Jessup in command, if I hadn't shown up, the dullard probably would have forgotten all about me._ It was only Jak and the loyalty he'd somehow managed to command from his crew that made him so dangerous. Jessup clearly did not have the same charisma.

That probably meant it was soon after Rhys had almost been caught by Jessup and the nameless thug after seeing Phoenix at the Gardens of Intrigue. Otherwise Jessup wouldn't have been still playing the role of enforcer that day. If only he had known, he would have spent more time in the city searching for clues rather than avoiding it for fear of the man. He may have been able to have spared Phoenix her ordeal...

He suddenly stopped. It would have been right after he'd encountered Phoenix in the Gardens of Intrigue. Right after he'd stolen a potion from the strangers. Right after Jessup had taken that potion off of him.

Several of the thugs moved to the window, drawn by a commotion outside, and allowing Rhys to see farther into the shack. He could see Jak laying on a cot in the corner. The man was drooling and staring at nothing in particular. He jerked his fingers now and again as though trying to move but not quite getting the commands where they needed to go. Seeing Jak suddenly sparked a realization for Rhys.

"The bad trip that Jak went on," he speculated, "was it from something in a strange-looking bottle perhaps?"

"Yeah, so?" Jessup made a face at him.

Rhys smiled to himself, but plastered a dumb look on his face as he turned back to the crowded room. "It just seems like maybe I've seen something like that before."

Jessup simply stared at him, but several of the men surrounding them moved closer. "Do you know who did this to him?" one asked.

Another jabbed his sword into Rhys's side. "You'd better tell us if you know something."

Rhys watched the wheels turning ever so slowly in Jessup's head. Finally, Jessup raised both eyebrows. He'd made the connection. He knew that Rhys knew who Jak had gotten that potion from, who it was that made their boss _indisposed_.

"I'm not sure," Rhys drawled, his tone surely sounding like he was a dullard to the thugs, but hoping that Jessup would pick up on the threat. "My memory is awfully fuzzy. I'm not even sure why I came here today since I've already paid off my debt. Isn't that right, Jessup?" He paused and watched Jessup's face contort with rage. To the rest of the thugs he said, "Give me a second and I'll try to remember who might've done that to Jak. I tried out the stuff too, so my memory's a bit spotty, but if I try real hard I'm sure I can think of it."

Jessup finally spoke up, his voice shaking with anger. "Yeah, yeah you're right," he said, "You did come in here and pay that debt off already."

"Right," Rhys agreed. "I was probably looking pretty worse for wear at that point, wasn't I?"

"Yeah, you were," Jessup agreed, though by his blank look he didn't see where Rhys was going.

Satisfied, Rhys turned to the thugs. "I musta come here right in the midst of it. I remember now. I'd gotten some stuff off a rogue outside of town. Came in a funny little bottle. The man said it was some new formula he'd made. A green liquid of some sort."

"That's the stuff!" one of the listeners cut in.

Rhys nodded knowingly, as though just remembering. "Yeah, I bought it off him with some of the money I owed and when I took it, the stuff had an amazing high. Didn't come down for days. Really messed me up."

"Did you give it to Jak?" a thug demanded, jabbing him from the opposite side as the knife already poking him.

"Of course not," he said with exasperation, as though it was a silly question. "I wasn't gonna share my stuff." The men gave him appraising looks and then nodded. Addicts weren't known for their sharing.

"How did it get to Jak if you didn't give it to him?" a thug asked. Jessup watched Rhys carefully.

"How should I know?" Rhys asked, shrugging. "I only said I knew of something like that."

"You also said you came here to pay a debt. Why'd you come back today if you'd already paid up?" someone asked. Jessup gave him a triumphant glare.

"Well, I told you," Rhys pointed out patiently. "I was in the midst of the high when I paid up and I forgot that I'd been here with most of it. But I used some of the money I owed to get the stuff, so I was coming back to square up the rest." He tossed a few coins to Jessup. "That ought to take care of it, wouldn't you say? We're good?"

Jessup was grinding the last of his teeth. Rhys bit back a laugh. He'd better be careful or he'd grind away all he had left. Finally Jessup spoke. "Yup, that'll about do it."

Once that was taken care of, the men grilled him about the fictional rogue who'd supposedly been selling the drug that put Jak into whatever state he was in. "Was he one of the Crows?" one of the thugs asked derisively.

Rhys pretended to consider this. "I don't think so," he finally answered. "I think he was from out of town. Had longish red hair, real matted up and dirty. And a scar down the side of his nose."

"Did he have anyone with him? A horse? Did he say where he was going?"

"No. No. And no."

"Well, what use are you?" said the thug who had been with Jessup when Rhys had bested the two of them. He was leaning against the wall and glaring at Rhys.

"We have a description," another man said, ignoring the last thug, "let's get out there and find him! Maybe he'll know how we can flush it out of Jak's system."

Jessup looked annoyed. No doubt he would rather move forward with himself as the new leader rather than search for a fictional character that might be able to help Jak. But the other thugs disagreed and most were out the door before the hulking man could form a sentence to stop them. Rhys high-tailed it out of there the moment they gave him the opportunity.

He sprinted down the lane and around the corner. When he'd put a fair amount of distance between him and the dreadful place, he paused to catch his breath. He bent over and put his hands on his knees. Laughing out loud, he drew strange looks from onlookers, but he ignored them.

Jak would no longer be a problem it seemed. After a few minutes of hysterical laughter, he sobered and drew a few deep breaths. Of course, if he were to come out of it, it may be a different story, but for the moment he was safe. Now all he had to do was steal a ring off the Lady Alina's finger.

_No problem_...

*

Phoenix looked at Regina across from her at the table. The girl was even more fidgety than usual. She pushed a basket of something across the table to her.

"I baked you some more sweetrolls," Regina said. Phoenix lifted the napkin that covered them and inhaled the sweet aroma.

"They smell delicious. Thank you."

"I have a confession to make," Regina blurted out. "I'm so sorry."

Phoenix looked at her, confused. "What kind of confession?"

"About Gavin..." She looked anywhere but at Phoenix. "I may have sort-of told him that you weren't really interested in him. I'm afraid it's my fault he attacked you! Maybe he just cracked that you were leading him on, and..." She wrung her hands together and her face turned red. "I had a bit of a crush on him myself, and when you said that you were just enjoying his affection for the moment, I was jealous. I know I shouldn't have but..."

The poor girl looked so distressed that Phoenix felt bad for her, though her confession almost made Phoenix laugh in relief. She had been afraid that the girl was going to tell her that she was somehow involved in the horrible plot. As it was, it was clear that Regina had no idea what was really going on.

Biting back her laughter, Phoenix rose from the table and went over to hug her friend tightly. "It's not your fault; I promise. Knowing that he couldn't gain anything by marrying me might have played a small part in their choices, I suppose, but the plot went much deeper than that. I assure you, anything you said to him did not make him try to kill me."

"Are you sure?" Regina squeaked out.

"Positive. And I apologize as well, I knew you also liked him and I still let him sweep me along with the possibility of a relationship."

"I thought you said you didn't like him?"

Phoenix sighed. "I don't know. I was holding out for some fantasy, but was coming to realize that it was just that; a fantasy. And I did enjoy his company until I found out his true nature. I'm so glad that we both were saved from him."

"Me too."

Phoenix's mother arrived just then, and Regina was gone before Layna could even say "hello" to the woman. Her mother watched Regina scurry out with a raised brow.

Phoenix waved away the unasked question. "She's worried she had something to do with Gavin's attack because she told him that I didn't like him."

"If only it had been that simple," her mother commented, taking the seat Regina had abandoned. She opened the basket and plucked a sweetroll from it, taking a bite. She closed her eyes in mock ecstasy for a moment. "These are so good," she gushed. "When I was your age, I would never have had these." She shook the roll at Phoenix who rolled her eyes at her mother.

They sat in comfortable silence while Layna finished her sweetroll, but then the Queen sighed. "There's been more information about the situation."

Phoenix looked at her expectantly.

"Remember the second man that was attacked, Lord Donnovan?" At Phoenix's nod she continued. "Gavin confessed that he was the one who was meeting him in the stables the day he was attacked. It was Gavin's footprints we found at the scene, though he maintains that the man was already unconscious when he arrived."

"No wonder he was so eager to point out that he had been with me for the afternoon." Phoenix scoffed. "He was protecting himself, not me."

"Indeed," Layna agreed. "Lady Aria is resigning as First Advisor, though we have determined she didn't know of the scheme. She feels that she should have, and I can't totally disagree with her. While part of me can understand wanting her child to have a more normal life – especially when my daughter has been depressed that her friends aren't treating her like a normal person – I can't imagine not being with you. I don't know how she can justify not knowing her own son. She says that she did know of Noam's ambitious nature – a large part of why she pushed to have him stay away from the capital – but hadn't realized the extent that it had rubbed off onto their son. They apparently fought about it many times since his arrival with Gavin here. She asked me to pass along her sincerest apologies."

A knock sounded at the door and both women looked up in surprise. Natalya poked her head out and then shut the door to announce that it was the heralds. Phoenix had almost forgotten their presence with all the excitement. _If you can call it that_ , she thought sourly.

At Queen Layna's nod, Natalya opened the door and seemingly the entire entourage from the Tyekath Empire flowed into the room.

"We were so sorry to hear of the attempt made upon your life!" Herald Siajan exclaimed with sincerity. He rushed forward and knelt before her, clasping her hand in his.

Herald Kedum was slightly more reserved. He bowed to both the Queen and Phoenix. "Please let us know if there is anything at all that we can do to help."

Layna spoke. "Thank you for the kind words. We apologize for this incident happening while you were under our protection. I assure you that extreme measures have been taken to ensure your safety."

No one pointed out that similar measures had been put into place to protect Phoenix to no avail.

Siajan rose and waved away the Queen's apology. "You have shown us nothing but hospitality and respect. And all of us feel quite safe in your care." He glanced around at his comrades who all nodded agreeably. All except Nathiwen who stood stoically at the back of the group, unmoving.

Phoenix met the boy's eyes briefly and thought she saw the corners of his mouth twitch into the slightest of smiles. She smiled back before her attention was once again drawn to Siajan as he spoke.

"We shall soon need to return to our home in order to begin preparations for the celebration of Her Favor."

"When is this celebration?"

"It shall happen in six weeks time, Your Majesty, so we will need to make preparations for the journey straightaway." He paused and smiled at her. "But we would like to invite a party of your people to come so that we can repay you for your hospitality.

Queen Layna nodded. "Thank you, Herald Siajan." She paused a moment, then beamed at the man. "We will have to throw you a grand going-away party as well."

Herald Siajan and Kedum had both become very popular among the courtiers, and though the majority of the rest of their party was more reticent than the two heralds, all were polite and courteous. A farewell party was sure to be well-attended.

Phoenix held her smile, and took a deep breath through her nose. No doubt such an excursion by her parents would create the perfect opportunity in their eyes for her to practice being the reigning monarch before she officially took the throne. Technically, her eighteenth birthday marked her eligibility for her ascension to the throne, but between the assassination attempt and the recent events with the visitors, she had hoped to be able to put it off.

"Unfortunately," Siajan said, "I regret to inform you that if you and King Gryffon would like to be a part of this party, for your own safety we must insist that your talents be dampened – which we can accomplish via potion – for the duration. The Empress laments the need for this restriction, but it is necessary."

Phoenix glanced at her mother's reaction. The Queen looked taken-aback. Phoenix cut in, "Perhaps I might be allowed to make this excursion in lieu of the King and Queen seeing as how I have no talent to speak of?" She turned to her mother. "It would also provide me with an excellent opportunity to hone my skills before actually taking the throne." _Not to mention hopefully postpone the event until I'm ready_.

"That would be wonderful!" Siajan nodded.

Queen Layna gave her a rather stern look, then turned to the heralds. "We shall have to discuss this matter with the King and the Council, of course, but I thank you for the offer."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Both heralds bowed. "We will take our leave of you, we only wanted to express our deepest sympathies over the Princess's recent predicament and share our news, but we know that you two must have much to discuss."

The entire entourage bowed now and left, leaving Phoenix to face her mother's displeasure alone. "You could have waited until we were alone to make the suggestion of you going," Layna accused Phoenix once the door was safely shut.

"Aren't I supposed to be starting to make these types of decisions myself?" Phoenix asked innocently. "And it is the perfect solution. I know you and father won't want to give up your talents – at least not when it would be dampened by magic you don't understand and might not get it back – so my going in your stead is the perfect compromise. The Empress will not be put out by substitution, and you will be sure to retain your power."

Her mother narrowed her eyes at Phoenix. "We'll see."

*

The sun beat down on Wren as he stood out in the city square in the swarm of people. The royals were officially informing the citizens of the details of the plot behind the attempted assassination of the Princess. Wren was pleased to see that despite the rumors, most, if not all, of the people seemed outraged by the events.

"It is with saddened heart that the Queen confirms that Lord Noam, along with his son, Lord Gavin, have committed acts of treason against the crown," an official read from a large scroll.

Wren listened to the announcement uneasily. He felt guilty for not having been there for Phoenix. It was just as Ketharly had said; she'd needed people she could truly trust around her. And he hadn't been there. At least he'd played a part, however small, in her rescue, and she was fine now.

The official continued. "It was their plan to discredit Princess Phoenix by spreading vicious and untrue rumors about her." He was forced to pause as cries of outrage filled the square. However fooled some of the lords and ladies may have been, it appeared that the commoners were still firmly in support of Phoenix. When they quieted down, the official spoke again. "Through a network of people who have all now been identified, these rumors were spread in an attempt to draw her fitness to rule into question. The conspirators believed that once Princess Phoenix was discredited, Lord Noam's son Gavin would be elevated into her position due to his mother's status." Boos and hisses rang out among the people in the crowd.

"These rumors tried to falsely claim that the Princess could read minds and that used this to know intimate details about people's lives. In reality, the Princess cares about each and every one of her citizens and makes it a point to remember to ask about how your sick mother is doing, what you came to see her for, and when your child is due!"

A cheer rose up. The official let the crowd applaud for several long minutes before holding a hand up for silence.

"Once these wild stories were spread about her reading minds, the conspirators took it one step further by taking 'potions'," he said the word with a tone that made it clear they were no such thing, "that they got from a black market dealer claiming to have legitimate potions like the empire to go to the next stage in their plans. Unfortunately for the men, instead of the potions they thought they were getting to aid them in their nefarious behavior, it put them into their comatose states – making it appear that they had been attacked."

He had to once again pause his narration as the crowd jeered.

"They then attempted to blame these attacks on the Princess, taking the ridiculous leap from saying she read minds to saying that she could hurt people with her mind. When all their efforts to falsely accuse and discredit her failed, they resorted to an assassination attempt."

Gasps rang out through the crowd and a flurry of conversation overran the officials next words. Clearly, some of the people in the crowd had also witnessed the Princess's fall and were now putting two and two together.

The official repeated himself over the din. "It is the hope of the Queen and King that these disgusting and false rumors now be put to rest. Princess Phoenix is, and ever will be, a loyal servant to her people."

The cheers that rang out after this statement were so loud that Wren had to cover his ears. It heartened him to know that her people had never been fooled. The official explained the plot in a bit more detail. But the longer Wren listened to the announcement, the worse he felt about abandoning Phoenix in her time of need. He decided to make a gesture of peace to her. It wasn't worth losing her as a friend simply because she didn't feel the same as he did – or had. He wasn't even sure that he felt that way about her anymore, now that he had met Ketharly.

The official waited patiently for the cacophony to die down. "Rest assured," he finally concluded in a serious voice, "the traitors will be dealt with appropriately."

Wren weaved his way out of the crowd, which was now practically foaming at the mouth at the prospect of punishing Noam and Gavin and shouts for their execution rang out. He didn't share the bloodlust of the mob, but was similarly offended by their betrayal. He had another rush of guilt that he had abandoned Phoenix, and even when he had been trying to help discover the source of the rumors, he had only been half-heartedly doing so while distracted by Ketharly. The thought of Ketharly and his inability to help her brought back frustration as well. _Guilt over Phoenix and frustration over Ketharly. Girls. Are they really worth it? And what do I have to look forward to? Being spit up on by whining babies_.

Wren smiled to himself. He knew that it was worth it, no matter what he told himself. He passed a performer who was using puppets to entertain a crowd of children while their parents listened to the official announcement, and he paused a moment to watch. The performer held a bottle up to the puppet's lips and a puff of smoke momentarily shielded the children's view. From Wren's vantage point, he saw the man quickly discard the first puppet to replace it with a dog. The man must be doing some sort of skit about the herald's demonstration of how the potions in their land could create illusions. The man must not have talent himself, so rather than really create an illusion, he had needed to actually replace the puppet.

He stared at the performer, a realization suddenly hitting him. At one of the feasts, he was fairly certain that someone had asked the heralds about illusions versus transformations...and he was fairly certain that their answer had been that with potions both were possible! He hadn't exactly been paying attention to them in the midst of Phoenix's rejection, but the memory now tickled his consciousness, sparked by the performer's transformation of the puppets. He couldn't believe he hadn't remembered it sooner. He had been looking in all the wrong places. Elaeld may no longer have the information he needed to turn Ketharly back, but maybe the empire did!
CHAPTER 14

At dinner that night, the heralds both clinked on their glasses in unison to make an announcement. Phoenix paused in her conversation and quieted along with the rest of the room to hear what they had to say.

"We must return to our homeland as it is a most sacred time, the celebration of Her Favor, and we need to be present for the preparations. We would, however, like to extend an invitation for a group of your people to come let us show you our hospitality as you have so graciously bestowed yours upon us." Herald Siajan waved his hand across the table, indicating their majesties.

Queen Layna bowed her head appreciatively. "We would welcome such a visit so that our two lands may continue to learn more about one another," she officially accepted the offer, though this same conversation had been made previously in private. She did not, Phoenix noted, expound upon who would be making this journey.

The room broke out in excited chattering. Once it had died down, Layna and Gryffon stood. The King spoke, raising his glass towards the heralds.

"You have been most welcome guests, and will be sorely missed upon your departure. Despite your discovery of our lands being an accident, you acted with utmost grace and acceptance and have given us hope that our two lands will move forward as prosperous allies." A murmur of approval spread over the tables. "Therefore, we would like to throw a feast in your honor before you leave and also a parade to let our citizens join in our appreciation." The murmur grew louder, and half the room broke out in applause while the other half shushed them to let the King finish. "Please join us tomorrow for the parade and the night after tomorrow in feast to give us the chance to demonstrate our friendship with the empire."

The entire room burst into applause now, and Siajan smiled, lifting his glass in salute to the King and Queen before drinking. Everyone else followed suit. Phoenix took a sip of her wine and watched her mother carefully. The woman was avoiding eye contact with Phoenix so she couldn't tell if they had made up their mind whether or not to send her to the empire. She didn't see how they couldn't.

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone brushed up against her arm. She looked up to find Wren standing next to her, biting his lip. The lady with whom she had been speaking before the announcement rose and curtsied. Then she offered Wren the seat before grabbing a young man's arm and dragging him to the dance floor.

Wren nodded to the lady graciously and sat on the edge of the abandoned seat. Phoenix watched him curiously. When he didn't immediately speak she took another drink and looked straight forward, commenting, "You've been avoiding me."

Without her gaze boring into him, she felt him relax slightly. "I know," he replied. "And I'm sorry."

"There's no need to be sorry," Phoenix assured him, "I know..." she trailed off, not wanting to reiterate the reason for his avoidance.

"But I abandoned you in a time when you needed friends," Wren pressed on. Phoenix was touched. She knew how difficult this was for him and a tear sprang to her eye. It was reassuring to know that she did still have friends who wouldn't betray her. "I should not have let my embarrassment override my better judgment that a friend was in need." He was silent for a long moment before clearing his throat. "I just wanted you to know that I still consider you a friend and hope that my actions haven't ruined that friendship."

Phoenix turned to him and hugged him, ignoring the raised eyebrows from some of the older ladies. "Of course we're still friends. Thank you for being there for me. It means the world."

Wren grunted and rose as she released him from her embrace. He bowed to her and finally met her eye as he raised his head. He gave her a small smile which she returned.

He walked off, and Phoenix caught her mother watching her. Layna's eyes darted off as soon as Phoenix looked in her direction, however, and the woman started up a conversation with the King.

After dinner, Phoenix sank onto her bed, lying backwards with arms outstretched and letting her maid Alisha ready her for sleep.

"I'm so glad all that nasty business is over with," Alisha said as she bustled around carrying Phoenix's nightclothes. "I never did like that Gavin. Got a funny feeling from him."

Phoenix smiled, but didn't open her eyes. As she recalled, Alisha had been rather fond of a match made between the two of them. Her smile disappeared at the thought. She could only imagine what would have happened if Noam and Gavin had decided to go through with a marriage. Would she have permanently become a slave in her own body like the day on the battlements? She still couldn't believe how twisted Gavin had been and how elegantly he'd fooled them all. The last of the conspirators had been weeded out. Apparently along with the two men who were attacked there was one other contact who had been discovered. The name was not one that Phoenix recognized.

Both of the attacked men, Lord Havensford and Lord Donnovan were under constant supervision though both were still in unconscious states. Phoenix had been horrified to learn that Lord Havensford had been acting under duress. Through Rhys's and his mentor, Levi, Havensford's daughter had been found to have been kidnapped by Noam. They lived fairly close to where Gavin had been raised and the girl was well-known to take frequent trips. Noam took advantage of this fact, surprising her while she traveled so that she wouldn't be missed right away and therefore no one would go looking for her. Despite the family not realizing her disappearance, Noam was able to prove well enough to Havensford that he had her by her jewelry in order to scare him into doing whatever they asked.

They had done a fairly good job of covering their tracks, but not good enough. Once the palace investigators teamed up with Rhys and Levi, nothing was left undiscovered. Phoenix shivered at the thought of the elaborate nature of the plans that had gone into trying to discredit and eventually kill her.

"Are you cold, Princess?" Alisha asked, bringing Phoenix back to the present.

"What? Oh, no. Thank you, Alisha." She dutifully sat up and put her hands over her head so that the maid could dress her in her nightclothes. "I was just thinking about how much trouble they went to to make sure that people didn't like me."

Alisha clicked her tongue. "Don't worry, Princess. Those rumors may have had a few members of the court fooled, but the people know your heart is true. Mark my words, no one'll love you any less for this mess."

"I hope you're right," Phoenix sighed, snuggling down into the covers.

Alisha straightened them out and tucked the edges underneath Phoenix. "Of course I'm right. I'm always right." She gave Phoenix a wink.

The next morning, the palace was abuzz again with everyone getting ready for the parade. Phoenix sat quietly through the routine of getting dressed and having her hair done, and escaped the moment the maids were finished to seek out some solitude in the stables.

She was stroking the nose of her horse, when a heavily-laden stable-boy rounded the corner. Robert dropped the headpiece – an elaborate decoration made to make the horse look like a dragon – and stammered, "Your Highness." He fell to a knee.

Phoenix gave him a smile and held out a hand to help him stand. "Since when did you get so formal, Robert?" she asked lightly.

"I- I didn't want to say that about you," Robert said, hastening to pick up the dropped headpiece before it got even dirtier.

"You told the truth," Phoenix stated. "You did nothing wrong." She helped him lift the heavy decoration into place. The boy smiled at her.

"I never believed you could do that," he stated firmly.

Someone cleared their throat at the stable doors and Phoenix was surprised to find Baron Winters standing in the doorway.

"I wanted to convey my apologies as well, Princess, for the accusation that I made of you."

Phoenix was silent a moment. The baron didn't particularly look sorry, and Phoenix saw her parents standing menacingly behind him. He obviously was being forced into the apology. She sighed.

"Thank you, Baron Winters," she finally answered. He bowed and quickly slipped away. Phoenix's mother and father came to stand beside her, and Layna laid a hand on Robert's shoulder.

Robert tightened the last of the straps for the horses and disappeared, leaving Phoenix with her parents. "Ready for the send-off parade?" she asked them genially.

"Any chance to ride Axel," Gryffon said, going over and patting the neck of his horse. The animal was apparently the offspring of a battle horse he'd owned when he and Phoenix's mother had first met named Battle Axe. Phoenix found it funny that he complained about the deceased horse's name, and yet had named its descendants after it. There was Axel and also Axis, who the Queen now rode.

All three horses were currently decked out to resemble dragons and Phoenix and her parents mounted carefully to avoid ruining all of Robert's hard work. Once they got situated, they maneuvered their mounts to the square to meet up with the rest of the parade.

The heralds were already in attendance, surrounded by their guards and servants, and flanked by Nathiwen. The boy was looking handsome in his finery and fidgeting slightly on his horse.

Siajan beamed at their approach. "Your Highnesses! This is going to be such a glorious day!" He looked around at the people already gathered at the gates to witness the parade. "Your people have been so welcoming and gracious, we will be sad to go."

"As are we." Gryffon clapped him on the back and shook Herald Kedum's hand. "Are we ready?" The King glanced over his shoulder and at his daughter and wife's nods, he started the procession.

The gates opened and guards streamed out, creating a corridor through the masses of people. The citizens were also dressed in their finest clothes, many with wreaths of flowers on their heads. They threw petals and confetti towards the parade and cheered with abandon.

As they paraded through the streets, Phoenix gradually gained confidence that the people had not believed the rumors about her. The faces of any she met eyes with held only love and excitement, with no hint of malice. She eventually overcame her fear and sidled her horse closer to the edge of the crowd. People's hands immediately reached out towards her, brushing against her leg and grabbing hold of her outstretched hand. An ill-looking woman pushed her way to the front and Phoenix slowed her mount to let the woman reach her. She laid a hand on the woman's feverish forehead and immediately felt it cool.

Phoenix smiled at the woman, whose features softened noticeably as her pain subsided. More people pushed to the front and Phoenix held out both hands, touching all those that stretched through the guards to reach her. A wave of cheers spread out behind her and Phoenix's heart soared. Alisha had been correct after all. It appeared that the people did not believe the rumors.

"You're stealing our show, Princess," Herald Siajan joked from behind her.

She turned to him and flushed. "I apologize," she began, but he cut her off.

"I am only teasing you," he said. "I'm glad to see that the recent unfortunate events do not seem to have reached past the palace walls. It only goes to show where the real heart of a country is."

Phoenix grinned at him and looked back at the sea of eager faces gazing up at her.

"Indeed," she agreed.

*

Rhys inched forward so that he could see the occupants of the room. The King and Queen stood, Layna pacing the room, while Rhys's mother and Lady Katrina sat nearby.

"I'm not sure that this is the best time to leave Princess Phoenix alone here," Katrina said worriedly. "Not that I have any doubt that she would do wonderfully," she added, receiving nods from Layna and Gryffon, "but the rumors are still fresh in people's minds, and there are still questions that haven't been answered."

Rhys's mother, Katya, spoke up. "I hate to put a damper on your plans as well, but there has been an incident with the tribes. The project to cleanse the chaotic magic has been progressing nicely, but the latest spell took on a greater scale than had previously been attempted, and it went awry. Despite the best efforts of the combined talents of all the tribes, it looks as though it may require your personal attention to remedy." She continued, "And before you ask, it will take longer than the time you have to prepare to leave and cannot wait until you return."

Queen Layna sighed. "It doesn't matter," she informed them, "Gryffon and I will not be the ones who will be able to visit the empire at this time. Herald Siajan informed us in private that though Her Eminence would very much like to meet Gryffon and I, magic is unsafe to use in the empire. We would therefore be unable to retain our talents and visit. If we did still want to go, he relayed that some sort of dampening potion would have to be applied which would render us talentless for the duration. Though we have no reason to distrust him, or the empire, this is clearly too risky both for our safety and that of Elaeld's."

"Dampen your magic?" There was a brief cacophony of outrage at the very idea amongst those in the room before Layna spoke again.

"He made it seem as though it was for our own safety, but I would imagine it would make them feel a lot safer as well. Two powerful mages in their land when no one there is allowed to use it would be disconcerting. Upon further discussion of the matter, he did, finally, impart some information about their customs. Apparently, the general use of magic has been banned because of something they call 'Nightwind'. He wouldn't give me details, other than this Nightwind made it dangerous for any in the empire to use or even possess magic. It sounds to me like they are afraid that people will not be able to appropriately handle it. He seemed to be very understanding of the fact that it was the Dark King who made the immoral decisions behind the use of blood-magic, and not the magic itself that was to blame. I would speculate that perhaps they had a similar incident in their own history which has prompted them to be wary of this Nightwind event turning others towards evil. Our people outlawed magic except within the bounds of the Priesthood in the Dark King's wake, and theirs appear to have outlawed its use outside of the control of this Alchemist because of this Nightwind. Siajan claims that there are very few who are born with the talent anymore anyway, but that those who do only bring danger to themselves and those around them should they not come forward to be 'cured'. Interestingly enough, it seems that this celebration of Her Favor that they are returning for is where this cure takes place."

The King spoke up. "I can't speak for my wife, but I certainly wouldn't feel good about submitting myself to a potion that would take away my magic without knowing for certain that it would be returned." He paused and added wryly, "Not that it's a matter of trust."

There was a tittering of laughter, but it was short-lived.

"So do we decline the invitation?" Katrina asked.

"I'd feel a lot better knowing more about this mysterious empire and Her Royal Eminence," Gryffon said, "and what exactly her plans may be regarding their discovery of our 'little nation', as Herald Siajan calls it." He paused and rubbed the thin stubble lining his strong jaw, just starting to show hints of gray. "Are they really as big as they hint at being? Just how powerful is this Alchemist, and why do they really seem so frightened of using power? What exactly is Nightwind? Could its legacy somehow threaten us? Can we really afford not to find these answers?"

Queen Layna nodded. "Indeed. I thought Siajan to be at least fairly open with us, but he has been extremely reticent about the use of magic and to now find out that it is basically outlawed..." she trailed off.

"They may not have mentioned it simply because of our own use of it. Knowing that they didn't have it could have been a real risk for them. It actually is a display of trust at this point to have come clean," one of the aides offered.

"I suppose," King Gryffon agreed reluctantly.

"Why not just send another party in our place?" Queen Layna asked.

"It would never do," Lady Katrina shook her head. "Sending someone below your station could be an insult, and we don't want to risk offending them before we have answers to our questions."

Layna sighed.

"Why not send the Princess?" Rhys's mother asked pointedly. Queen Layna shot her a warning look, but Katya ignored it. His mother was hard to intimidate. "With her out of sight, won't it also follow that she will be out of mind, at least as so far as squashing the last of the rumors about her? The rumors are mostly gone, and it seems that the court was the only place where they really ran rampant anyway. But while most people were smart enough not to believe them, there are those few busy-bodies that have nothing better to do that refuse to let go. If she's not here, it won't be nearly as fun for those gossiping about her to do so. Furthermore, any gossip that is going around would be much more likely to concentrate on what she's doing in the empire and not the nasty rumors of the past."

"That's true," Lady Katrina agreed.

Queen Layna closed her eyes.

"We can send her with Natalya and Alina," Gryffon said softly, putting a hand on the small of Layna's back. "Alina picked up the ability from the Order to hide her magic completely and she also has a talent for repelling unwanted attention. It isn't common knowledge that she's a mage at all, let alone as strong of a mage as she is, so the heralds probably don't know either. I see no reason to enlighten them. That way, we can send someone along with the ability to use the power, and we can feel safe knowing Phoenix has a mage at her back. I trust Alina to make sure that any use of power is done safely no matter what this Nightwind's influence may have on the empire's people. She can also provide us with a better understanding of what it might be than those who have never experienced touching the power. We can send Phoenix with a gate charm as well. If anything goes wrong, she can be home in an instant."

Layna opened her eyes and met Gryffon's imploringly. Rhys looked away from the tender moment, feeling awkward spying on it.

She was silent for a long moment. "Only if they will allow a full guard to escort her. I don't want to send the heir to the throne into danger without proper protection. The country can't afford to lose her," her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath.

"We'll send Natalya and Alina, of course, and we can send some of the 'special' guards along too. The Blades can blend in with the servants and the empire will be none-the-wiser." Rhys strained his ears, hoping that they would elaborate on the Blades. He'd heard rumors of an elite guard existing, but never had it confirmed before now.

"We should send along people she trusts, too," Layna put in, her voice stronger, "and with special skills." She turned her head. "Rhys, perhaps you could join us in a more civilized manner?"

Rhys bumped his head on the ceiling, jumping when she said his name. His eyes darted around the narrow passageway, then rested on the sight below. Seeing no alternative, he slunk down through the opening and into the conference room. His mother's expression revealed nothing, but Lady Katrina looked surprised to see him there. As always, the Queen somehow knew whenever he was lurking.

"Your Majesties," he bowed to them and greeted Lady Katrina and his mother with small bows as well, without meeting his mother's gaze.

"I would like you to accompany her as well," the Queen stated.

Rhys was taken-aback. "Me? Why?" His mother gave him a stern look. He cleared his throat and added, "Your Majesty."

Queen Layna smiled knowingly. "As you have just so aptly demonstrated, you are very good at being in places you shouldn't and gathering information. I am not so dull as to believe that all of the information that Wren passes to us has come from him. While he is valuable in his own way, there is a certain crowd that this type of information comes from with which Wren does not associate." Rhys's mother scowled as Layna continued. "While I cannot completely condone your activities, your skills are exactly those that are needed to find out as much as we can about the empire without them knowing. You have certainly proved yourself to be a true asset for Phoenix."

Rhys was stunned. He half-wondered if this was some sort of revenge against his mother for having suggested the idea of Phoenix going, except that vengeance wasn't the Queen's style. Perhaps she knew more about his everyday activities than he assumed. He gulped; he wondered what else she knew. Her eyes seemed to penetrate into him in that peculiar manner she had, and his gaze dropped to the floor. He was very glad he'd been able to return the Bloodstone and had decided against taking anything else.

"I'm sure that being in Phoenix's party will make you privy to all sorts of situations and items," she added.

Rhys had a flashback to the jewels and riches on the visitors' boat and robes. Just in case Jak ever woke back up it might be wise to have the money ready. He also realized at that moment that Alina – and her ring – would also be on the journey.

"And we would, of course, compensate you for your troubles."

He nodded and stood up straighter. "I would be honored to be a part of Phoenix's escort," he said, inclining his head slightly again.

*

"Excuse me," Wren addressed Herald Siajan.

Though they hadn't spoken, the man looked at him with recognition, obviously remembering at least his face from the meals he'd sat down the table from him.

"Yes?" he asked politely, turning to face Wren.

"Forgive my forwardness," Wren began, "but I have heard that your Alchemist is a most powerful magician."

The man simply nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Would he be able to make a potion that would turn a – a horse into a human again?" Wren stumbled over the words. He belatedly realized that revealing Ketharly's secret to this stranger would not be a good idea. She had gone to great lengths to keep her existence secret and Wren had no idea how the empire regarded unicorns.

Herald Siajan looked surprised. The corners of his mouth turned downward in thought. "I have heard of such potions that would turn a creature from one form to another, but I do not believe that the mind would be affected. An animal would still have an animal mind...you say 'again'?"

"She was a woman once," Wren offered, "but was transformed into a horse by a spell that can no longer be reversed. I need to find a way to turn her back because I," he paused, but pressed on, wanting to make it clear to the man why he had such an urgent need, "because I love her."

The man smiled. "Ah, love. There is nothing is the world more powerful. Yes, I believe the Alchemist could help you. But his help does not come without a cost, and you would first have to request permission from Her Royal Eminence to even speak with him. While any citizen of the empire may pose such a request, you are not a citizen. As we have never before come across such a situation, I am unsure how it might be handled by Her Eminence."

"Thank you," Wren nodded his understanding. "Thank you very much. I appreciate your time speaking with me."

He hurried off, excited now, to find Rhys. He'd heard that his friend was going along with Phoenix on the mission and hoped that he could convince him to put in a good word to the Queen that Wren's addition to the party would be beneficial.

He found Rhys lurking in the hallway outside the royal chambers and Wren cornered him. "You've got to get me on that boat," he told the younger boy, who was eyeing him warily.

"Excuse me?" Rhys asked, trying to push past him. "Like what, stow you away in my bags?"

Wren gave him a withering look. "Convince the Queen that I should go along." Wren stood his ground, trying to hold Rhys's stony gaze. His facial expressions were almost as intimidating as his mother's and Wren soon looked away. "I need to go to the empire and speak with the Alchemist."

"Why?" Rhys drew out the word suspiciously.

"He's the only one who can help a friend," Wren said. "Look, will you help me or not?"

"Why don't you just go ask Phoenix? They're a lot more likely to listen to her than to me. I'm still not entirely sure why I got put on this mission."

"Because they know that you are where they get most of their information about the city from, you dolt. How would I come up with the stuff you feed me when I spend all my time in libraries?"

Rhys was silent, his lips tight.

"I'm not sure that Phoenix would actually want me on the trip," Wren admitted, dropping his wandering gaze.

Rhys relaxed. Then he sighed. "Fine, I'll do what I can."

"Thank you!" Wren exclaimed, moving to hug the boy. Rhys raised an eyebrow at him menacingly, and he backed off. He stuck out his hand instead. Rhys stared at this for a moment before finally reaching out and firmly shaking it twice.

"Don't thank me," he warned. "I haven't done anything yet."
CHAPTER 15

Rhys tugged on his clothing and scowled at the flock of ladies crowding around the two heralds. They had certainly wasted no time in charming the lot of them. Not that he cared, but seeing as how there were far too many women crowding around for anyone else to get close enough to relieve the visitors of some of their possessions, he didn't see why he had to be there at all. Granted, he no longer needed the money quite as urgently now that his debt with Jak had been taken care of, at least for the moment, but there were still other expenses in his venture. If he was to succeed in getting Alina's ring, no doubt he would have to pay someone off or buy some expensive charm.

Once he'd made the necessary appearance at the feast, he slipped quietly out the back. He was not in a festive mood. Back in his chambers, he stripped off the constrictive clothing and collapsed on his bed in his nightclothes.

Someone knocked at the door, startling him; he hadn't heard anyone approach. He frowned. That could only mean one thing. He got up and opened the door. Sure enough, it was his mother. She stood there staring at him for a long moment. He stared back before stepping back and motioning her in.

"May I help you with something, Mother?" he asked.

She didn't answer right away but moved to stand near the window. A small box was in her hand. Rhys grew curious despite his displeasure. Finally, she turned to him.

"I've gotten the feeling lately that you're angry with me," she stated.

Rhys sucked in the side of his cheek and bit it. He sighed. "I heard some disturbing rumors about you."

She looked at the floor. "I figured as much. What have you heard?"

"It seems as though you have some distasteful connections in the underworld. A group called the Shadow Sisters? And I heard mention of something involving a snake."

She sighed. "It is time that you met someone."

Rhys looked at her skeptically. She opened the box to reveal a small armband in the shape of a snake. Rhys reached out to it, and touched its head. Suddenly, the snake came to life and slithered up Rhys's arm before he had time to move away.

"He likes you," she said.

The snake slid up his arm, and Rhys tore aside his nightshirt to watch the thin creature's path. It snaked its way up past his shoulder and down onto his chest. Rhys sucked in his breath as the snake shimmered and flattened, coiling itself into a spiral above Rhys's heart. It became difficult to focus on the shifting form, and as Rhys's eyes became clear once more, it had become a tattoo. Rhys's eyes grew wide.

His mother was smiling. "Rhys, meet Marak."

"Is it supposed to do that?" he asked, eyes wide and focused on his chest.

"I'll admit," she shrugged, "that he's never done that with me, but he has a mind of his own. Probably just wanted to make sure I wouldn't put him back in the box. He's been in there for far too long."

"Soooo," Rhys started, "this is the snake. What does that mean?"

Katya appeared to be steeling herself to tell him something unpleasant. "When I was just a child, I was taken as a slave."

"What!? Why didn't I know this?"

"It's not a part of my past that I'm proud of though I have come to terms with it. I was fitted with a magical collar which dulled my emotions and controlled my actions." She paused and took a deep breath. "During that time, I was used as an assassin for one of the noble families who was part of the Order."

Rhys was silent for a long moment. "You've killed people?"

"Yes," his mother admitted in a whisper. "Marak was my partner. He is equipped with many enchantments to help neutralize victims before I disposed of them. It is this reputation that makes me known in the ranks of the Shadow Sisters, though I assure you I was never part of their organization."

"But you didn't have a choice," Rhys clarified. The idea of his mother killing anyone should seem absurd, but somehow, it wasn't.

"No," Katya repeated, "I didn't have a choice. Please don't hate me."

Rhys felt a wave of emotions rolling over him, the predominate one being guilt over the thoughts he'd had about his mother the past few weeks. And to now find out that her own time in the world she kept him from had been enslavement...

He drew her close for a hug, a rare occasion in their family, and Rhys witnessed something he didn't ever think he'd see. A tiny, glistening tear was forming at the edge of her eye. She was crying.

"I just didn't want my past to rub off on you," she said. "You spend so much time with the darkness of the city. I don't want the evil in me to have drawn you to it."

"It's not," he assured her. "I promise." He paused a moment in indecision before making up his mind. "All the things I do with the 'darkness', as you call it, is so that someday I can hopefully make it better."

"What do you mean?" she asked, drawing back to meet his eyes.

"A while back, I got to know the inner workings of one of the gangs, the Falcons, when I investigated an overdosed child. I was able to work with the gang leader so that it improved his business while ensuring that the drugs wouldn't end up in the hands of children. Not a perfect solution, but an improvement. Then I heard about a new gang that was planning on moving into the city. This gang is a large group of bandits that have been organized under one leader and have been taking over smaller towns for weeks now. Things are getting really ugly, and now they're coming to the city. The gangs here obviously don't want that and have each been planning their own methods of dissuading the new players, but they are all disorganized. There are no rules."

"So you want to make organized crime?" his mother asked skeptically.

"Yes. No." He gave her an exasperated look. She clamped her mouth shut and allowed him to continue. "I want there to be rules. I want them to answer to the Queen. She'll, of course, have to make some sacrifices as well. They're not going to give up crime, but maybe we can stop them from selling drugs to kids or be warned if there's an assassination attempt."

"Why would they go along with this?"

"Because of the protection." He cut off the protest he could see coming, "Not from the crown, but from outside gangs. If they were all organized together, there would be no way that this new rival could come in, but as it stands, none of them is strong enough separately to stop it. I've gotten three of the four biggest groups to agree to listen to my plan, but I'm still working on gaining the respect of the fourth. Then, of course, I'll have to convince the Queen."

"What did you have to do to gain respect?" his mother asked worriedly.

"I helped free some caged animals." He knew that his mother had a soft spot for anything caged, and now with the insight into her past he could understand why. "And show another that I could take the Bloodstone from the vaults – but I returned it," he added quickly.

Katya simply nodded. Apparently, Queen Layna had shared that with her.

"My last task is to steal Alina's ring."

His mother's face didn't move a muscle, but he knew her well enough to see the laughter in her eyes.

He glared at her. "Well?" he demanded. "Out with it."

"Oh, nothing," his mother answered. "Good luck with that."

"Mmm," he replied. "So what do you think?"

She took her time contemplating this new information. "I think," she began slowly, "that you could be onto something. I have heard about such things as thieves' guilds but never really thought about them existing here or on such a large scale. I suppose if it could really cut down on the horrific crimes, the Queen might go for it. I'll put in a good word for you with her when you approach." Rhys was surprised. He hadn't really expected his mother – who yelled at him for being out too late – to approve of his plans to create a thieves' guild. "But Rhys," she pointed out, "you do realize that it will most likely be Phoenix who will end up making that call, not Layna, don't you?"

Rhys was taken-aback. He hadn't ever thought about that. His mother made a few other suggestions, and he soon found himself unveiling his entire plan to her. Much to his surprise and gratitude, she not only accepted his goals now that she realized that his involvement in that world was out of a desire to better it, but was willing to help him achieve them.

As they ended their conversation with plans to continue it in the future, Rhys pulled her close for another hug.

"Two in one day," Katya commented.

"I just want you to know how much it means to me to be able to share this with you," he told her. "And I don't want you to ever think that I hold you in any less regard because of anything you did in the past. You are my mother, no matter what." He squeezed her tight.

"Thanks, Rhys."

*

Phoenix twirled away from one young lord into the arms of another, performing the steps of the dance with ease. She smiled at the boy and curtsied to him as the music drew to a close. She accepted his outstretched arm, and he led her gallantly back to her table.

"You are quite the dancer," Herald Siajan commented. "I can't wait to have you show off some of the Elaeld dances in the empire's court. The lords and ladies will be most impressed."

"Indeed," Herald Kedum agreed, "We are most pleased that you have decided to accompany us."

"As am I," Phoenix nodded. "I can't wait to see this wonderful empire I have heard so much about. If the rest of its people are anything like your party, I am sure that I will love it." She smiled at both heralds and glanced around at the rest of the party. Nathiwen was watching her intently and she smiled at him as well. She was surprised when he smiled back. It was perhaps the first expression she had ever witnessed him make.

A few days later, with the departure time fast approaching, Phoenix bustled around her room, stuffing belongings into a last bag. She'd completed this ritual twice already, but kept changing her mind. She had no idea what to expect, and therefore no idea what she needed to bring. In the end, she ended up bringing far more than she'd originally planned on.

Phoenix gave her room a once-over, trying to decide if there was anything else that she couldn't live without. She spotted a bracelet her mother had given her sticking out from beneath her clothes in the overflowing dresser drawer, and she added this to her bags as well.

Rhys would be on the trip, and though Phoenix knew him well enough to realize that there were other motivations behind his accompaniment, she felt safer knowing he was there. No matter what else he was, Rhys had always been a trusted friend and there when she needed him. If it hadn't been for his hard work – along with his mentor, Levi – who knew if the plot against her would have been discovered.

Wren would also be coming along for the trip – Rhys had made the request for him, pointing out how useful his scholarly skills would be for such a journey – and Phoenix was glad for another friendly face. Hopefully it would allow them the opportunity to reconcile their friendship as well. She had been pleased that he'd made the initial overture towards her, but he was still avoiding her none-the-less.

The business with Gavin still stung and she was ready for a change of scenery for a bit, the excitement of the new land enthralled her enough to forget the betrayal of trust and her first taste of ruthless court intrigue.

She took a final look at her packed bags and sighed in completion. She was ready. Leaving her bags for the servants to load onto the pack horses, she made her way to her parents' suite.

She lifted her hand to knock on her parents' door but paused as she heard hushed voices within. She wasn't sure what prompted her to do so, but she leaned in close and put her ear against the door.

"I'm still a bit reluctant to send our daughter to a strange new land, especially with an unknown threat – this Nightwind – around," her mother was whispering, presumably to her father.

"It will be safer for her to be in the empire until we figure out what really happened here."

"I suppose so. I'm still at a loss who could have attacked the two men, and how. Are we absolutely positive that the Tyekaths had nothing to do with them?"

"Why would they? What would they have to gain from Phoenix's discredit? If anything, I would think that they'd prefer her rule over ours with their dislike of our touching the power."

"You're right, of course. And she will be safer away from it until we figure this all out. They both had something to do with the conspiracy against her, and though it would appear that whoever attacked them was acting to protect her, one never knows."

Phoenix froze. Everyone had been told that the attacks were part of the conspirators' plans gone wrong. That had been a lie? So who then, had attacked those two men?

***

SNEAK PEEK

Her Favor

The Empire Trilogy: Book 2

Phoenix took in the empire's landscape in awe. The area near the capital had been filled with lush greens, vibrant yellows, and bright reds. Where at home she would see squirrels and mice, here there was a multitude of lizards and snakes and other reptilian creatures she didn't recognize. As they moved farther inland, the air got drier. Trees were replaced with bulbous plants sticking out from the ground and covered in mean-looking spines and gigantic flowers. Strange animals peeked out from the shadows beneath the thinning vegetation at the party's passing. The dirt became more gravely, even sandy in spots, and the greens of the plants became less bright, but no less beautiful. Majestic rock formations split the earth and shot upwards towards the heavens.

Phoenix took out a tiny bottle from beneath her shirt where it hung on a long chain. It had been a gift from Siajan upon her arrival to Tyekath. She shook the bottle and smiled in delight once again at the melody that magically sprang forth from its depths. Bright lights within, like miniscule stars, danced to the song. She watched, mesmerized. Though her parents had attempted to make charms that she could activate without talent, the ease with which she was able to make this magic thrilled her. Her parents were under the impression that the empire's citizens were missing out by being cured of talent and forced to only use magic through potions, but Phoenix wasn't so sure.

Their imperial guide drew her attention and pointed to the west. She followed his gaze and saw that there was a rock wall surrounding what must be a small town. She nodded enthusiastically at his query of her interest in visiting the place. So far, everyone in the empire had been welcoming and friendly.

As they entered the town, people began lining the street, staring at them in wonderment. She didn't think that the Elaeld people looked so strange, but from the reaction they always seemed to elicit from the empire's citizens, she supposed they must. Phoenix nodded to a waving little boy, who giggled and ran into his house.

The carts lining the streets were filled with many wares that Phoenix had never before seen. One held animal pelts of beasts she couldn't begin to imagine, with all manners of strange colors and shapes. At another, food items were being sold, and Phoenix fought back a shudder as a boy crunched loudly into what could only be described as an enormous ant on a stick. At the same cart, there was a tentacle of a sea creature, clearly marinated in some sort of reddish sauce and currently roasting over the vendor's fire. The smell it produced was pleasant, but Phoenix wasn't sure she'd be able to ignore the suction cups and rubbery-looking texture in order to actually consume the thing. Yet another cart had an assortment of garments, some that didn't look overly unusual, but others that she guessed were perhaps for the different climate; strange goggles and headscarves that would be useful in the glaring sun. They made the people trying them on look like giant bugs.

All of a sudden, a loud humming started, echoing in the back of her head. It grew louder and more pronounced, turning into a harsh wailing. The sound waned and ebbed like a tide, getting louder as it shrieked and then quietly retreating back to a hum, only to begin again.

The townsfolk immediately stopped whatever they were doing and rushed off, disappearing into buildings. Shutters slammed shut, doors banged closed, and heavy canvases fell over carts.

Their guide lifted his hands around them, herding them towards the inn. Confused, Phoenix and the rest of her party complied, though her guards all had their weapons drawn and at the ready. Natalya's head whipped this way and that, searching for the unknown foe, while Alina's head was thrown back towards the sky. The motion had caused her hood to fall back away from her face, and Phoenix gave an involuntary shudder.

Her attention was torn from the frightening countenance as she was pushed through the open door, and the guards closed in protectively around her. She couldn't see, and could hardly breathe in the packed environment. Someone elbowed her in the ribs, followed by a mumbled apology. She caught a glimpse of the rest of the inn, crowded with people from the streets. The townspeople looked ashen with fear, eyes wide like deer hearing the excited yipping of coyotes as they closed in for the kill.

Someone stepped back in front of her, shielding her view, and she listened to the silence around them. In the commotion, she hadn't even noticed the alarm had stopped. She could hear short shuddering breaths, as though they were waiting for some inevitable unknown event.

Darkness descended on them. Phoenix peeked out from behind her guard and saw that the light, previously streaming in from the cracks around the shutters, was gone. Utter blackness enveloped them. Someone let out a whimper.

Then it began. A great bellowing that rocked her very soul. Great whooshing sounds filled the air, like the beating of many wings rushing through the street outside. She felt something moving over her, giving her the sensation of a snake slithering around, its tongue tasting her.

"It's the Nightwind," someone whispered ominously...

Continue the story in Book 2 of the Empire Trilogy,

Her Favor by Laura R Cole

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BOOKS BY LAURA R COLE

The Eleventh World Saga:

BloodRunes Trilogy

Unleashed Fury

Those Who Fear the Darkness

Leoht

The Forgotten Trilogy

Serpent's Lair

Bricrui

Light the Reign

The Empire Trilogy

Her Reputation

Her Favor

Her Secret (coming 2014)

