The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(99)
*
Neph paused as his transport spell faded around him and turned slowly in a circle staring at his surroundings in confusion. He had directed his spell to the Merro district and should have been very close to the main house, but that wasn’t where he had appeared. A large crowd of people milled around him and the area he stood in appeared to be some kind of holding pen. At first glance he had thought someone had managed to pull him out of his spell and he had ended up in slave pens, but that couldn’t be right. He recognized the city around him. This was Sanctuary. It was just the wrong part of Sanctuary.
“Next!” A man bellowed ahead of him and the crowd shifted as someone moved forward.
“What the bloody hell is going on here,” Neph snarled and the woman in front of him turned to regard him with an annoyed expression. “It’s a security check,” she informed him with a shake of her head. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to watch the line in front of her. “Haven’t been to Sanctuary since the Empress made her changes, eh?” an older man behind him said in a conversational tone.
Neph half turned where he stood and shook his head slowly. The man was half-blood, if that, with a short squat build and garish colored clothing in blue and yellow. By his appearance, he likely was a merchant Neph decided. While he would have preferred to simply glare and turn away, he needed the information the man had, and apparently the merchant was willing to chatter. “The last time I was here you could use transport magic anywhere in the city,” Neph prompted in the most polite tone he could muster. It was difficult to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He hadn’t expected this kind of delay, and by the size of the crowd in front of him he was going to be here for hours.
“No one is allowed to simply come and go as they please anymore. All transport spells are directed here, and all ships must pass through customs,” the man informed him in a superior tone as if he were addressing a country bumpkin.
Neph nodded slowly and scanned the horizon once more, taking note of the buildings he could see. The arena was obvious enough, but he wasn’t sure what the massive building beside it was. It hadn’t been there the last time he was in the city. His eyes narrowed as he examined the twisting spires that lined its roof and the pale white marble it was crafted from. It had to have been created with magic. Nothing that big could have been built so quickly by hand. Its location didn’t make sense either. It sat to the west of the Arena, closer to the center of the city, and from what Neph knew of that part of Sanctuary, there simply wasn’t room for a building of that size. Its foundation would have covered the entire city market as well as the park and fountains.
“The Empress’s palace. I was here the day they raised it,” the merchant informed him in the same smug tones. “They shifted the entire city to make room for it. Quite the work of magic to behold.”
“What happened to the park and the city market?” Neph asked curiously. It wasn’t worth the effort to put the little man in his place. If he wanted to feel smug and superior then Neph was inclined to let him. It was obvious the stupid bastard didn’t realize he was addressing the High Lord of Delvay. People were generally a lot more subservient when a High House was involved.
“The little park that was there was leveled and rebuilt. It’s called the Walk of Heroes now, and the Empress has had statues placed as a memorial for all those who died to save the city,” the man answered with a note of pride in his voice.
“Really? Must have taken a lot of stone to craft images of all of the commons that were killed that night. I doubt there is any room for plants in her garden with that many statues,” Neph commented dryly and rolled his eyes. “It’s good to know, though, that the Empress is working on such important projects while the rest of the world rips itself apart.” He shook his head in disgust and started to turn away, but paused as he noticed the man’s look of outrage. He raised an eyebrow at the squat little merchant daring him to object.
“Do not dare to speak ill of the Empress. She saved us from the tyranny of the High Lords,” the merchant snapped in a tone filled with anger. His pudgy cheeks began to flush red under the sparse bristles of his graying beard.
“The tyranny of the High Lords, eh?” Neph mused with a slight nod. Taking a deep breath he rounded fully on the man and looked down at him giving him a full view of his face, and his obvious high birth. “Not all of the High Lords are tyrants and I think you might have your facts a bit wrong. Your Empress did not save the city, the High Lady Jala Merrodin did. If not for her husband the barrier wouldn’t have fallen and if she hadn’t chosen to fight that night, the Fionaveir wouldn’t have won. So don’t puff up like a little frog to me about insulting your Empress when she didn’t do anything but build a pretty house and redecorate a garden.” His voice rose as he spoke and his last words were more a snarl than anything else. Everyone was staring at him now and he could see guards pushing their way through the crowd to reach him.
“It is against the law to speak ill of the Empress,” the merchant informed him as he took a hasty step away from Neph.
“Breaking the law, eh? How about I shatter it instead,” Neph growled and glanced toward the approaching guards. “This little security check wouldn’t be needed if the Empress were truly doing her job. Because she sits on her pretty ass in Sanctuary and plants roses, the world is still at war. Maybe if she took a moment to look beyond the city and came out of hiding, I wouldn’t have to stand here in this pen like cattle waiting for the slaughter. Or even better, how about the Fionaveir actually support the people that gave them power to begin with? Way to leave your allies to rot, f*ckers!” he finished loudly as the guards reached him. Smiling coldly at the two men he held his hands out in front of him. “Go ahead, arrest me. At least it will get me out of this pen,” he snarled.