"His name was Fasil Bow." Willem Drifft strode into Ildevar's private study and dumped a comp-vid on Ildevar's desk. "The Winds tell me that he was hired by Skel Hawer. Why I cannot determine—that part the Winds do not reveal."
"Why are you seeing this after the fact?" Norian demanded angrily.
"I knew something was wrong, and Willem reported this days ago—that the Winds were unstable and fluctuating. Had you paid attention to more important matters, this might have come to a better resolution. At least the Serendaan King and his wives are still alive." Ildevar wasn't happy with Norian, and Norian knew it.
"Deonus, my apologies. I should have been here and I wasn't. I should have replaced Hawer and I didn't."
"You shouldn't have placed my safety in Hawer's hands to begin with," Ildevar growled.
"I know that," Norian sighed and slumped into a chair beside Ildevar's desk.
"If the shining woman hadn't arrived, the King and his wives likely would have been killed. As it is, four of my palace guards are dead, and all six of the King's servants. The assassin killed one servant already before taking his burden and following the others to me. One of my palace guards merely managed to wound the attacker slightly before dying."
"How are we going to report this to the media?" Norian moaned.
"I suggest you show the vids and let them speak for themselves," Ildevar huffed.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
I was never so glad in my life that I was glowing in all the news-vids. Nobody could make out anything about me, and that's how I wanted it to stay. Tired didn't begin to describe how I felt, too, when Gavin appeared the following morning and herded me to a Council meeting.
* * *
"The shining woman, boss." Trace dropped a comp-vid in front of Ashe during breakfast. Ashe and Bill had attempted to convince Kay to eat breakfast, but she'd turned her head away, refusing to look at them.
"What's this?" Ashe pulled the comp-vid toward him.
"The shining woman. You keep talking about her. Looks as if she may have helped save Ildevar Wyyld yesterday. It's all over the news. She saved the King of Serendaan and three of his wives, that much is evident."
"What the hell?" Ashe tapped the saved vid and watched in fascination. "That's her, all right," he mumbled, as he took in the unedited scene from Ildevar's private vid-cameras. "Did anybody see where she went?"
"I hear she disappeared." Trajan wandered in and sat heavily at the island.
"Traje, I'm sorry. I just," Ashe rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.
"Boss, I'll never get Breanne back. Not in a million years. You didn't see her face when I dumped her and took off. Look, I don't want breakfast." Trajan stood and folded away.
"Boss, I've never seen you screw up like this," Trace mumbled.
"Yeah. I get that."
* * *
Zint had no desire to bring the vid to Erithia's attention. He felt as if he'd failed her, when he hadn't. Skel had arranged for Ildevar Wyyld's death, only Ildevar had somehow been protected. Perhaps Fasil might have gotten through Ildevar's shields eventually, but the Founder had gained unexpected help from a shining woman. Zint had no idea why.
"What have you brought for me?" Erithia smiled at Zint as she sat down for breakfast.
"Your favorite, my lady," Zint whined. "Stewed eel in wine sauce."
"Ah. Good. And what is this?" She lifted the comp-vid he laid at her elbow.
"I have terrible news," Zint wept and fell to the floor beside Erithia's chair.
* * *
"You were brought here by a future me," Ashe did his best to explain to Randy Smith how things had happened. "That future me had help—from someone who, at the moment, is a basket case. And the shining woman is somehow appearing now, when there was no recollection in the future. This is such a mess," Ashe rubbed his forehead. He'd found Randy in the groves, supervising the last of the harvest in the northern section, which butted against EastStar's boundary.
"But, I don't understand how you know it was a future you," Randy pointed out. Ashe always liked the way Randy's mind worked—logically and with a talent for expressing himself.
"I leave notes for myself," Ashe muttered.
"That must come in handy," Randy chuckled. "Man, I need to write a book about you, someday."
"Put it off, will ya?" Ashe begged. "Sometimes, being the Mighty Hand isn't everything it ought to be."
"So, this shining woman. Who do you think she is?"
"I'm hoping one of us—the Mighty, that is. The truth, though, is that she could be somebody else. Maybe even one of the Koh'Ahmari. They're powerful in their own right."
"But you told me that she
Changed What Was
. That doesn't sound like anything less than one of the Mighty."
"Either that or the Vhanaraszh—but—you're right. This is the shining woman, and the Vhanaraszh might not be capable of some of the things I've known her to accomplish. I'm just not thinking straight today. The love of my life is sitting in a bedroom at the house, and all she can do is shake, cry and refuse to eat. I think I want to separate Norian Keef's particles over this. Trace says she seemed fine before he and Schaff questioned her. She attempted suicide shortly after that, and physically, Franklin says she's fine."
"What about a shrink?"
"Got one coming in this afternoon. I don't know what he might do with this, unless he's got wonder drugs. I can't seem to do anything about it."
"That sucks."
"Yeah. Seen Sali today?"
"Off on the northwest edge," Randy replied. "With Marco and Cori."
* * *
"Got a body, here," Trevor's newest assistant deputy pointed out the trash container where the dismembered body had been found by a casino employee.
"Any ID?" Trevor could smell the body from twenty feet away.
"Zint Dorn," the deputy handed a comp-vid to Trevor after researching fingerprints.
"Hasn't been here long," Trevor said, reading through Zint's records. "Says he was employed by The Starstrike Casino. What's the cause of death?"
"I can't say for sure, until forensics takes a look. At the moment, I can't say whether his arms and legs were ripped off before his heart was torn out, or vice-versa."
"Nasty way to die, either way," Trevor shook his head. "Get him hauled off to the morgue and get the lab to send me a report as soon as they have it."
"I will."
* * *
Breanne's Journal
I knew it the moment Zint Dorn's image floated onto the vid-screen inside Queen Lissa's office. I was sitting at her desk after hours, working on disbursements and watching the news at the same time. Zint was Erithia's trained puppy, and chances are he'd run afoul of her temper in some way. She wasn't a nice person—I'd gotten that from my brief reading of her. Squaring my shoulders, I resolved to go hunting again as soon as I finished the pile of requests before me.
* * *
"My love, I cannot say how happy I am to be with you again." Rathik Erwin kissed Erithia's hands—several times, as he fawned over her. Thankfully, Erithia still had a small stable of rogue Ra'Ak at her command, and they only moved if she commanded it. They were ordered to stay hidden, otherwise.
This one was capable of getting past the shields surrounding Le-Ath Veronis, and that wasn't a simple thing to do. She'd commanded him to bring Rathik to her, to replace Zint. Erithia hid her disgust at Rathik's touch as he continued to kiss her hands.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
"What do you want?" I'd been working on the final disbursement when Kalenegar the Disgusting appeared, made himself smaller and slid onto a guest chair in the Queen's office.
"Was that you? In those vids?"
"I'm not saying," I tapped figures into my comp-vid.
"Need I tell you how foolishly asinine that was?"
"You don't have to tell me anything. Asinine is as asinine does. I think you've got that whole asinine thing locked up. Anything I can do is just frosting on the brownie."
"Please do not share your food idioms with me."
"Look, I'm sure you got some tasty sunlight somewhere for dinner. I got blood substitute. You have no idea what I'd do for chocolate right now."
"Next time, disable the cameras or I shall be forced to punish you again. I wished to do it this time, but Graegar intervened."
"Then I owe Graegar," I muttered, tapping send on my comp-vid and closing the program. "You, on the other hand," I looked up at him for the first time since he'd arrived, "I owe nothing to you, unless it's a good ass-kicking. Get out. I have things to do."
"None, including the Vhanaraszh, tell me what to do." My head felt as if it had been split open as Kal the asshole Larentii disappeared.
* * *
"Can I get you something?" The man behind the desk at the small Visitor's Assistance counter blinked at me in concern. I'd misted to Casino City with a splitting headache, regretting it immediately afterward—the headache was worse.
"Any painkill?" I asked, wondering as I asked whether it would do any good to take it if he did.
"I have packets of painkill," he nodded sympathetically. He looked young, and I held my shield in place so his life wouldn't pass before my eyes. Brown hair, hazel eyes and a nice nose met my gaze instead as he rummaged in a bin below the counter, coming up with a small packet containing two painkill tabs. A cup of water came next, and he stood by as I tossed back both tabs and downed the water in a few gulps.
"Thanks," I said, attempting to smile. With my head pounding as hard as it was, it probably resembled a grimace instead of a frown.
"Too much to drink?" He lifted an eyebrow.
"I wish," I replied and walked out of the tiny Visitor's Assistance Center.
Erithia Cordan had owned and operated the Comet's Tail Casino, and I'd already been there four times, looking through the whole place for her. That included six hundred guest rooms, which currently held nine hundred guests. Who knew where she was? Nevertheless, I looked again, hoping she'd return to the scene of the crime. On my previous trips, I hadn't thought to dig through the attic. I decided to check that while I waited for the painkill to kick in.
Dimly lit, the space was mostly open—there wasn't any need for walls here. It was storage space and little else. What interested me, however, was the large table, more suited to a boardroom than an attic, which took up a corner space. Chairs lined both sides, as if waiting for a meeting to commence. One might assume that it was moved from this meeting room or that when it was needed. It didn't have a bit of dust on it, either. That might not be unusual, if it had been used recently.
Sniffing around it, I encountered mostly humanoid scents, until I reached the last chair on the far side. Hair lifted on my head and neck. Prescience kicked in and I realized that Rathik Erwin, the fucking weasel, had sat there. Not only had he sat there, he'd sat there recently. As in hours, not days or weeks. If he'd ever made it off the planet, he was back now.
Later, I held my head in my hands as I sat atop a building housing luxury condos, working to piece a puzzle together that defied logic. Sighing, I realized that my headache, which the painkill barely dulled, would prevent me from working anything out at the moment. I needed sleep, but it wouldn't come as long as the headache Kal had given me pounded against my skull. Silently I cursed him as I gathered what strength I could and misted back to the palace.
* * *
Lissa's Journal
"What the hell is that?" I asked as the dust cloud continued to blow in our direction.
"I don't like this," Merrill came and took my elbow. Adam was already beside Kiarra, prepared to take her away.
"But what is it?" I said as the wind began to scream around us and the first grains of sand blew into our faces. I threw up a shield, as did Kiarra and the others. Our barriers had absolutely no effect—the winds and sand sailed right through them. Kiarra screamed as she was buffeted by winds so strong Adam had to hold her upright.
How the hell is this possible?
I sent mindspeech to my Saa Thalarr companions. Suddenly terrified that none of our abilities might work against this aberration, I turned away from fiercely blowing grit that threatened to scrape away exposed skin. What happened next might only occur in nightmares or horror films. Merrill folded me out of there; if he hadn't, my skin might have been flayed from my body while I attempted to get to the cause of a shrieking sandstorm on a portion of a world where there was no sand.
* * *
"I can't get through to Belen." Kiarra dropped onto the sofa beside me, dressed in a robe with a towel wrapped around her white-blonde hair. She and I had been transported to Adam's ancestral home in Kent, and all of us had raw skin from the sudden sandstorm, which should never have happened.
I'd hurried through a shower, and Joey, kind soul and healer that he is, had worked to fix the raw scrapes on exposed skin. Norton, one of Joey's mates, put his hands on Kiarra and was doing the same for her. Bearcat, another of Joey's mates and a former Saa Thalarr, helped Adam and Merrill with raw wounds. They'd protected Kiarra and me from the worst of it, after all, before getting us away.