Keeper (First Ordinance #2)(81)

"One thousand years? That's incredible," Edden breathed.

"Yes. Kaldill has been King of the Elves far longer than that. Many older Larentii recall conversations with Kaldill, far in the past."

While Melis might have wished for a lengthy conversation as to whether immortality was a blessing or curse, Daragar whisked Berel and me away the moment our meals were finished, depositing us in Gurnil's Library and causing Dena to laugh in delight.

She stood with a bird-feather duster in her hand, smiling widely when the three of us appeared not far away. "Have you eaten?" she asked, first thing.

"Yes, thank you," Berel smiled at her. "We just had breakfast."

"Quin, you look tired," she said.

"Quin had a trying day, yesterday," Berel said.

"I am tired. I'm thinking of reading more in Ulrin's journal, and perhaps making a few notes for Gurnil—I haven't done that as yet."

"I'll bring a midday meal when it's time," Dena promised. "Are you reading in the Library or in your bedroom? It's raining outside, or I'd say the terrace."

"I'll read in my bedroom," I said. There was a chance Justis might appear somewhere in public, but he wouldn't walk into Kaldill's suite without an invitation.

"There's my dearest," Kaldill appeared with a smile. He pulled me into a hug before letting me go with a nod. "By all means, read in your bedroom until midday. Sleep if you want. Daragar tells me you're exhausted after yesterday's ordeal."

I did feel exhausted but was too worried about the debates, which were just beginning in Kondar. No word had come from the Yokarun Emperor, but perhaps he waited to see what Kondar's decision would be. After all, Yokaru now depended heavily upon trade with Kondar, and that would disappear along with the people of Kondar if their decision were to leave Siriaa behind.

"I see many things trouble you," Kaldill smiled. "Read the physician's journal and take your mind away from these things."

Dena brought me a cup of tea while I settled on the bed and pulled Ulrin's journal into my hand. "Let me know if you need anything else," she said. "I believe Justis would like to grovel, but whether you let him or not is your decision."

"I don't know what to do about that," I hunched my shoulders uncomfortably. "Perhaps soon, but not now. His words hurt too much."

"The people you love can hurt the most, can't they?" Dena said softly. I knew she was thinking about her mother, who'd belittled her many times for having yellow wings.

"Yes," I agreed. "Sometimes I think they fail to realize how much harm they've done."

"Ardis says hello," she said.

"How is he? Doing well?"

"He appreciates being Captain Ardis again," she smiled. "He and Justis are drilling the Black Wings this morning."

The thought of it made me sigh. Justis—drilling his troops for a war that might never come. I'd offered him the opportunity to make a difference in the border war. He'd refused.

"I'll just get to this, then," I held up the journal. "Gurnil may be quite bored when he reads the report, but the births, deaths and lineage records may be of interest to Amlis. I'll make separate reports for him."

"I'd rather dust the entire Library at once than do that," Dena frowned. "I'll see you at midday."

She closed my bedroom door behind her, tucking her wings closer so they wouldn't catch between door and jamb. Shoving away thoughts of Justis, which still pervaded my mind, I opened the journal where I'd left it last and began to read.

*

Avendor

EastStar

"There are two ways to shift into another body," Reah handed a cup of coffee to Kooper, then sat at the kitchen island across from the tall, lion snake shapeshifter. Both Farzi and Nenzi, Reah's lion snake shifter mates, had come to see Kooper, whom they admired.

"You've seen both, or so I've heard," Kooper sipped his coffee. "This is excellent—what did you put in it?"

"Vanilla, milk, cinnamon and sugar," Reah smiled. "And I frothed the milk."

"You think grz-gitch Vardil Cayetes do this?" Farzi asked. "Steal bodies?" He and his brothers eliminated unnecessary words when they spoke—a habit they'd acquired early in their lives.

"Vardil has enough money to convince a surgeon to do the work. I understand if a warlock is involved, the stolen body begins to die quickly so a continuous supply of fresh bodies has to be found."

"Either way," Reah shrugged. "As a criminal, if he got a warlock involved, it would be impossible for the ASD to track him, because the image could change every few days."

"Vardil is wealthy enough—and nasty enough—to do either," Kooper shook his head. "Even Karzac can't predict what could happen if Vardil's brain is affected already with the poison, and then is transferred to another body."

"Have you kept an eye on the black market employment listings? Anybody looking to hire a powerful warlock?"

"Nothing so far. Look, what do you think would happen if the brain transfer was performed first, before he went looking for a warlock?"

"No idea. I've never heard of anybody stupid enough to try that. After all, you have to keep the warlock with you at all times once the first transfer is done, just to make sure he's available when the new body fails. It makes an unholy alliance, and somebody is going to tire quickly of their partner, I think."