Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(65)

Evan wrenched himself back to the interrogation, realizing that Barrett had just asked him a question.

“I have built a fortified stronghold,” Evan said. “And I am one of only a few gifted ship’s masters that are left. That gives me an advantage. But I am under no illusion that we can hold out forever. I have to go to sea in order to make a living.”

“By attacking our ships and stealing our goods,” the queen said.

“It’s nothing personal,” Evan said. “We steal from everyone, northerner and southerner, Desert Coast and wetland coast. We are equal opportunity brigands in that regard.”

This was met with stony silence, finally broken by the queen.

“For the next series of questions, I’ve asked Lord Bayar to take over the questioning, and use persuasion. Are you familiar with that?”

Evan sat up straighter. Persuasion? Was that the wetland word for torture? “I am not,” he admitted, his mouth dry. “Could you, perhaps, explain?”

“I’ll use magic to ensure that your answers are true,” Bayar said. “Don’t worry,” he added. “It’s not painful, but I would ask you not to do anything to interfere with it.”

“I wouldn’t know how,” Evan said, busily sorting through the secrets he wanted to keep. He should be all right, assuming a partial truth would be enough.

He and the High Wizard sat on either side of a small table and Bayar gripped his hands. Magic flowed from the wizard’s hands to his own. Evan had expected that it might be similar to the sensation of rum or blue ruin running down his throat. Or that it might be painful, despite the high wizard’s assurances. But no. It was more like a cold river running through Evan’s veins that eventually disappeared as it mingled with his blood, leaving no trace behind.

Bayar frowned, looking down at their joined hands. Then said, “Prince Adrian has told us that he met you in Ardenscourt this winter. Why did you go there?”

Evan glanced at the healer, who sat in shadow, fingers laced, his chin resting on his hands. He offered no clues.

“I went there to prevent the empress Celestine from making a deal with the king of Arden.”

“How did you know that such a deal was on the table?”

Evan hesitated. “I had a source in Ardenscourt who sent word to me.”

“So this plan was common knowledge in the Ardenine capital?” Barrett raised an eyebrow. “None of my eyes and ears reported that.”

“It was not well known,” Evan said. “My source is close to the king, and was involved in the negotiations.” He was watching the healer when he said that. Sul’Han straightened, as if he’d finally heard something he didn’t already know. He waited for Bayar to ask who his source was, and the High Wizard didn’t disappoint.

“Who was this source who was close to the king?”

Evan had no intention of giving Destin away. “I would rather not say. It would put this person in grave danger.”

“Don’t worry,” Bayar said. “What is said here stays here. You can speak freely.”

Evan could continue to object, but that would be the same as saying “I don’t trust you,” and that wouldn’t advance his diplomatic agenda. So he found himself lying, and then waiting to be struck dead. Or at least called on it. “It was Queen Marina,” he said. “We met once, when I boarded her ship in the Southern Islands. I must have made a good impression.”

They all looked at each other, faces full of doubt.

“Well,” the queen said, glancing at the healer. “I suppose it’s possible. She is a Tomlin, after all.”

Bayar still looked puzzled. With a faint shake of his head, he tightened his grip so that the pressure was almost painful. “Why didn’t you want this deal to go forward?”

“I did not want the empress’s influence to spread farther than it already has,” Evan said. “Trust me—you don’t want Celestine for a neighbor.”

Bayar abruptly let go of Evan’s hands. “Something’s wrong,” he said flatly.

Barrett leaned forward. “With—? Do you mean that he’s not telling the truth?”

“I have no idea if he’s telling the truth,” Bayar said. “I don’t think it’s working.” He turned back to Evan. “Are you blocking me? Because if you are—”

“I’m not blocking you,” Evan said. “How could I? You took my amulet. Besides, as I already said, I wouldn’t know how.”

“It’s in your best interest to cooperate,” the queen said to Evan.

“I am not trying to interfere with the High Wizard’s magic. The truth serves me as well as you.”

The High Wizard rubbed the back of his neck, his expression making it clear that he didn’t believe him.

“Doesn’t persuasion work on you?” Queen Raisa said.

Evan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never . . . submitted to this kind of magic before.”

Sul’Han was staring at Evan now, eyes narrowed, as if he’d had some kind of epiphany. He leaned over and whispered something to Shadow Dancer, who nodded.

“Well,” the queen said briskly, “we’ve been at this a good while already. Perhaps we should—”