Two Worlds of Dominion Page 3

  As he forced himself to listen to the conversation, Scott’s remarks about the smoke finally caught enough of Maray’s attention for her to unfreeze and release Jemin from the urgent need to flee from her sight.

  “What do you mean, ‘not normal magic’?” she asked, her voice surprisingly even.

  “That it must be a warlock stronger than even Corey,” Scott explained. “She herself recently informed me about what was possible within her own limits of power.”

  “Maybe it was Gan Krai,” Neelis suggested.

  Jemin seized the opportunity to make himself of use in the conversation. “Gan Krai wouldn’t have run,” he interjected. “He faced us in combat last time we tracked him down.”

  “You mean he faced you in combat and almost killed you,” Seri noted beside Jemin, reminding him with a sardonic smile of the horrible sensation of nearly drowning in the icy lake. A part of him had died there that day—the part of him that might have been good enough for the future Queen of Allinan someday.

  “Thank you, Seri.” Scott reined in her dark humor. “Jemin is right. Gan Krai would not have run. Not after having defeated Jemin once before.”

  Neelis held up the cloak and sniffed it, allowing for a long enough silence during which Jemin caught a quick glimpse of Maray. She was more beautiful than ever. Her hair was braided back from her temples on both sides, and her moss-green gown was a mixture of royal embroidery and bold functionality. Pia must still be doing a great job helping Maray navigate through court. Every now and then, the shifter girl, and Maray’s handmaiden, showed up at the safe house to coordinate with Neelis about protection details. Those were the moments Jemin lived for. Pia would carry Maray’s scent with her as she arrived, and she would talk about Maray’s schedule, her routines, her life—a life from which shifter-Jemin was excluded. Especially now that Heck had taken his place at her side as her soon-to-be king. All that would be left for Jemin was to watch Maray’s coronation from a distance—given she ever accepted to end the official mourning period of her mother’s and grandmother’s deaths and move on to fill the power vacuum they had left behind. Heck would be there to fill it with her. And it broke Jemin’s heart.

  As if Maray could feel his gaze, she peeked at him while Neelis and Scott were now emptying the cloak’s pockets in search of any clue about the identity of its owner. Jemin’s heartbeat quickened as their eyes met for a fleeting moment. Just enough to set off an explosion of regret and pain for what he had lost. He lowered his gaze, knowing that it wasn’t just him who was suffering. Maray had been forced away from him by Allinan traditions and her responsibility as a royal. And now more than ever, she had to abide by those rules to protect herself and all of Allinan. She had made sacrifices beyond what any one person should be forced to make, and yet she was there, holding her head up high as the nobles started circling around her throne like vultures, enduring with dignity what could no longer be changed.

  Jemin swallowed, and his eyes fell on a piece of paper, which had slipped, unnoticed, from one of the pockets and was now resting on the floor, seemingly avoiding all attention.

  “What is that?” Jemin asked and bent over to pick it up.

  In his hand, he held something that definitely didn’t belong in Allinan.

  “Let me see.” So quick Jemin couldn’t brace himself for the contact, Maray reached for the little paper, brushing his fingers as she extracted it from his hand. At her touch, a horde of butterflies took off in his chest, razor-sharp wings scarring him from the inside. How he craved her touch. “It’s a ticket,” she remarked as she turned it over between her fingers, exposing golden lines and black letters and numbers. “This is a ticket for the Vienna Musikverein, dated for January first.”

  She glanced around as if the little assembly in the room was supposed to understand what that meant, but Neelis was the only one to nod.

  “What am I missing, Your Royal Highness?” Scott asked, obviously concerned something had escaped his attention.

  Maray handed him the ticket. “It’s a concert hall where, once a year, the famous New Year’s Concert is broadcast from.” She eyed the Commander with a look that told Jemin she couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard of it. “Strauss waltz, orchestras, and a guy in a tux dripping sweat as he tries to tame the violins; naked, golden women carrying balconies on their heads—” Maray stopped her enthusiastic explanation when Scott’s face turned as pale as Neelis’ as soon as he’d heard about the man who had dissolved into smoke under the veil of a woolen cloak.

  “The Coronation Hall.” It was a simple sentence Scott spoke as he finally made sense of Maray’s words that set Jemin’s system at high alert.

  “The Coronation Hall?” Maray asked, confused. Her lapis-lazuli eyes wandered back and forth between Scott, Neelis, and Seri, avoiding Jemin’s gaze.

  “You didn’t think they would crown you here in the palace, did you?” Seri asked with a smirk, and Maray half-nodded, apparently thinking for the first time about it.

  “The building used as your ‘Musikverein’ in the other world happens to be the Coronation Hall in Allinan. A house built solely for the purpose of coronating the queens and kings of the realm,” Neelis explained, “second only to the palace itself.”

  Maray eyed Neelis as he made the connections. “What does a warlock do with a ticket to a concert hall in Vienna?”

  “It’s called culture, Your Royal Highness,” Heck commented with his usual humor as he walked in through the door, earning a tense smile from Maray. “You might have heard of it.” Heck’s voice ran Jemin through like a knife.

  Heck joined Maray at her side, his smile not as natural as what was common in Heck’s spectrum of facial expressions. His eyes flickered to Jemin’s as if they were wording an apology. An apology which wasn’t necessary. Jemin would always be grateful that Heck was the one to become Maray’s partner for life. It was the best option. This way, at least, Jemin knew that Maray would be in good hands.

  Maray rolled her eyes at Heck, and a tiny grin escaped her. It drove another knife through Jemin’s heart, and he wished he could simply take off and hide at Pen’s cottage the way he had for the first days after his transformation.

  “What happened, Jem?” Heck asked, and for a second, Jemin thought that his friend was asking about the pain in his chest. But then he realized that Heck was inspecting the cloak.

  “We were attacked in the forest.” Jemin’s answer sounded cold to his own ears even though he didn’t mean it to. He and Heck still weren’t back to the way they used to be. Jemin’s pain ran too deep. “The guy dissolved into smoke when I tried to tackle him, and it seems he wasn’t even from this world but from the other.”

  Heck nodded in acknowledgement for the information, but Jemin didn’t nod in return. He let his gaze wander to the window where he noticed a small group of people crossing the yard.

  While Neelis explained the rest of what had been talked about to a growingly concerned-looking Heck, Jemin’s thoughts returned to the moment before he had sunk his teeth into the empty cloak. He could have sworn there had been a figure underneath. It couldn’t have been an illusion, or there wouldn’t be a piece of fabric as proof they had encountered something. If only he had attacked sooner, he might have gotten a hold of whoever was playing his little games with them. The shadow had clearly tried to sneak away first and only attacked after he had been noticed. There was something fishy about it. Something that didn’t at all appear like a deliberate, planned ambush but like he had been trying to go unnoticed. Jemin swallowed as it dawned on him—

  “So, Musikverein…” Maray brought the conversation back to where they had been before Heck’s entrance, taking a cautious step back, her eyes flickering up to Jemin’s. “What was an Allinan warlock doing at the New Year’s Concert?” She pointed at the words on the ticket in her hands.

  But Jemin was hardly listening as he put two and two together. He raised an eyebrow. “The question would be: Was it a warlock at all? Or something much wor
se?”

  The room went quiet, making the creaking of the parquet as Jemin nervously shifted his weight and reached for the cloak from Neelis’ hands the only sound. Jemin lifted the fabric to his face and took a deep breath.

  “What is it, Jem?” Seri asked, following his lead. “What is wrong? What do you smell?”

  The thing with the cloak was that there was absolutely nothing wrong. Jemin smelled nothing.

  He lifted his gaze to Neelis, who nodded, apparently having come to the same conclusion, and Seri joined in their silent exchange as she realized the same thing.

  “Human,” Jemin said, unable to believe it, and avoided looking at Maray, eager to hide how uncomfortable he was about sharing how his Yutu-senses worked. “A variety of human. Dust and food—human food. And car exhaust. Smoke.”

  “So what is it you are saying?” Heck asked, sounding impatient.

  “Either someone made this cloak move by magic—” Jemin remembered the impact as the attacker had rammed him from the side. It couldn’t have been magic. “Or the guy in the cloak truly dissolved. And I don’t mean by magic, but because he isn’t made of the same matter as humans or animals.”

  “Impossible,” Scott said as if he could prevent it from becoming a reality if only he insisted enough.

  Maray lifted one hand to her temple, massaging it as if she had a headache, and took a step backward to sit in one of the cushioned chairs at the side of the small meeting room. “What is impossible, Commander?”

  The middle-aged military advisor to the crown of Allinan turned to the side so he was half-facing the room and half looking at Maray as he laid his hand on the hilt of his sword and fashioned an expression that let Jemin guess nothing good was about to come from his mouth. “Allow me, Your Royal Highness,” Scott said, stern. “I don’t want to call the devil by mentioning his name… but this might be something equally bad.” He paused to steady his breath. “This might have been a Shalleyn.”

  Maray

  “Are you sure?” Maray asked, unable to believe this was happening.

  Scott and Neelis both nodded, equally certain and uncomfortable about that certainty.

  “We were both there during the First Breach of Dimensions.” Scott had troubles meeting Maray’s gaze, apparently unsure how to deliver the news. He fiddled with the top button on his collar until Neelis came to his aid with a harsher tone.

  “It’s happening again, Your Royal Highness.”

  Maray contemplated for a second. “What you are saying is that actual demons are crossing the border.”

  “Not demons,” Scott corrected. “One demon. So far, it’s been only one.”

  “That we know of,” Jemin added, making Maray’s stomach plunge into her legs, not only because of the voice that spoke it but because if it really was more than that one demon, it meant the borders had been compromised.

  “We can’t even be sure it’s a Shalleyn,” Seri put into consideration. “It could still have been a warlock, and the smoke an illusion…”

  “Think about it, Seri,” Jemin insisted. “The guy went to the Coronation Hall in the other world. Why would a warlock do that? His powers would be mute in the other world. ” Jemin glanced around the room, his eyes stopping at Maray’s for a painful second. “I don’t think he went there to hear the concert. He had other business. Something that is connected to the Coronation Hall in this world.”

  “Casing the building to sabotage your coronation, maybe,” Heck suggested. Maray noticed how his hands were balling into fists at his sides.

  “Probably,” Seri agreed with bitterness. She drew her lower lip between her teeth and leaned back against the desk they were standing by.

  “You don’t think this has anything to do with the missing spies, do you?” Maray asked, unsure of why she thought it might, and stepped back to glance out the window. There were people outside, commoners trickling into the yard, waiting to make an appointment for an audience with the future Queen of Allinan. Those requests were plentiful these days.

  “It could.” Scott picked up on her scenario. “That would only be one more reason to either get the returned spies to talk or to track down the demon.”

  “Corey could help,” Jemin suggested. “If anyone can help to track magic as strong as the Shalleyn’s, it’s her.” Jemin waited for a reaction, but no one spoke, all eyes lingering on Maray—even Jemin’s.

  Maray didn’t know how to feel about involving Corey. She missed her warlock friend dearly, but she rarely saw her these days. Corey kept to herself, still wallowing in guilt for having being involved in Rhia’s and Laura’s death.

  “I am sure it will be good for Corey to focus on a task. It might get her out of her slump,” Maray hoped.

  Heck was the first to nod. Then Jemin and the rest followed.

  “We should take the cloak to Corey,” Jemin continued. “It might have traces of magic she can use to track him down. He obviously didn’t want to be noticed, he didn’t come to attack… Almost like a spy,” Jemin concluded. “Doesn’t mean Corey’s magic isn’t strong enough to find him, though.”

  It didn’t surprise Maray that Jemin would come to such a conclusion, given his past as his father’s spy in the palace. But something didn’t add up about everything she’d heard.

  “Wouldn’t a spy try to take you captives if he ran into you instead of avoiding a fight? He could have learned plenty from the two of you. After all, you’re in my inner circle.”

  Maray noticed from the corner of her eye how Jemin flinched at her words. It didn’t matter to her that they weren’t together any longer, he was still one of the few she trusted with her life, and there weren’t many left.

  “Maybe,” Scott agreed partially. “If he’s sure you didn’t see his face, he might avoid a confrontation.”

  “That’s the thing,” Seri said, “He didn’t fully avoid it. He did attack, but only enough to show us his strength. Almost as if he wanted us to know…”

  “It’s Gan Krai sending us a message.” Maray eyed the Commander and Neelis as they exchanged a look that let her guess she was on the right track.

  “You need to double the guards,” Heck requested, earning approving glances from everyone in the room at once. “We need to make sure no one gets to the Crown Princess.”

  Maray swallowed. If she was right about Gan Krai, and if he was letting Shalleyn cross the borders, it wouldn’t be long before they’d sneak into the palace.

  “I’ll have part of the pack share guard duties with the palace guard,” Neelis offered.

  “That would be great, Neelis,” Maray thanked him. She glanced at Seri and Jemin, both of them beside each other, a vision of strength and dexterity, and a pang of guilt ran through her chest as Heck added his own thanks to hers.

  “It would be wonderful if Seri could take the first shift,” he requested, and Jemin relaxed beside the shifter-girl, apparently relieved he wouldn’t be forced to stick around. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes with protection details. Especially not when Maray and Heck are leaving the palace soon.”

  “Sure,” Seri agreed and glanced at Maray with a cautious gaze before her eyes wandered to rest on Heck’s face.

  “Meanwhile, I will make sure we figure out what is happening with the Shalleyn,” Scott added. “We need to discover what they are planning.”

  As the party dissolved, Heck accompanied Maray down to the carriage. So did Seri. The young woman kept a small distance from them, giving them space for their own, private conversation, but Maray knew well enough nothing would slip her attention with her super-senses.

  “You all right?” Heck wanted to know and took Maray’s hand in a gentle gesture.

  Maray nodded, unable to say a word. It wasn’t true. She didn’t feel all right in the slightest. It was what she had to say. But how much longer would she be able to keep it up? What she truly wanted to say was that she wanted Jemin’s hand around hers, her mother’s guidance to understand the danger the Shalleyn imposed on her
future throne, and most of all, time. She needed time. Time to figure out what options she had left if she wanted to save both her own reign and the future of Allinan.

  They had less than an hour to get to their public appearance, and Seri was going to go with them along with Pia and a couple of guards from Scott’s team.

  “You know I’ll protect you,” Heck reassured Maray as he held out one hand to help her into the renaissance-looking vehicle, which wasn’t pulled by horses but reminded Maray of an autonomous car. “Krai-salt,” Heck added as he noticed Maray’s confusion.

  She remembered Jemin had mentioned it, but now that she actually saw one of the carriages, she was blown away by the gilded details on the outside and inside, and the comfort of a small table with a basin that worked the same way the one in her bathroom did.

  Seri climbed inside after them and sat across the table from Maray and Heck, who were sitting in the wide space in the back. Through a decorated window behind her, Maray observed how Pia and the other guards got into a second vehicle which was parked a short distance behind the royal carriage.

  Just when Heck was about to close the door, Jemin’s head popped in, a disgruntled expression distorting his handsome features. “Wait up.”

  He reached inside through the gap and grabbed onto the doorframe, swinging himself up into the seat next to Seri.

  Maray swallowed as she found him staring across the carved table right into her eyes. “Neelis and Scott came to the conclusion that you might need more protection,” he explained, eyebrows knitting further into each other. He appeared almost as uncomfortable as Maray felt. So did Heck next to her.