Archangel's Sun (Guild Hunter #13)(81)

“Ozias,” he said, “this is Lady Sharine.” The introduction was more so his spymaster knew how to address Sharine than because Ozias wasn’t already conscious of her identity. “Sharine, my spymaster, Ozias.”

Ozias bent at the waist in the most respectful of bows. “My lady. It is an honor to meet you.”

“I think you are like Jason and must’ve often been in Lumia, a phantom unseen,” Sharine said, a laugh in her voice.

He saw the flicker in Ozias’s eyes as Sharine spoke, understood her stunned beat of silence. Sharine’s voice was a thing of beauty, luxuriant with elements it was impossible to describe, but that brushed over the skin like a caress. Titus was coming to think that it was a gift of sorts, as with his ability to cause quakes.

Because it wasn’t only archangels the Cascade had altered . . . and Sharine had lived through more than one Cascade.

“You have caught me,” Ozias said, her voice having turned a touch husky. “But to spy on you from a distance is one thing, and to meet you in person quite another.”

Sharine held out the journal. “Here is what we wished you to see.”

Taking the journal with careful hands, Ozias examined the diagram with care.

When Titus asked her whether or not she’d seen or heard anything that might indicate the construction of such a hidden new stronghold, she shook her head. “I would’ve put it in my reports, sire.” No edge to her tone; she had been by his side for hundreds of years, knew his question was no judgment.

“I never saw anything to indicate such construction, and neither did any of my people.” Ozias wasn’t one to show much emotion, but now she frowned. “But it’d be the height of arrogance for me to say it couldn’t be done. Even Jason, who I deeply respect, was unable to find the location where Lijuan Slept before her rising and I know he hunted with intense focus.”

Jason was Raphael’s spymaster and considered one of the best in the world. Titus would try to steal him except that it’d be a useless effort because Jason was blood-loyal. Also, despite her admiration of Jason, his own spymaster wouldn’t forgive him for at least seven decades. Ozias held her grudges tight.

“But,” he pointed out, “you have a far stronger network in Charisemnon’s territory then Jason did in China.” It was a matter of simple logistics—Titus was right across the border from his enemy; Ozias had double agents who’d lived so long in the north they were considered locals. “Is it even possible that you could’ve heard nothing at all about a project this big?”

She looked down for a second, the sunlight picking up the hidden red tones in the black of her hair. Slowly, she nodded. “You’re right, sire. I should’ve heard something, and that I didn’t makes me believe that either the diagram is of a historical residence—or it was constructed in one of the few locations where such a large enterprise could take place without anyone talking out of turn. It won’t be here.”

“Agreed.” Not only had they searched the entire stronghold compound, Ozias had too many spies in this court. A massive stronghold couldn’t run without all kinds of people, including low kitchen staff and cleaners. Charisemnon hadn’t been great about ensuring that his courtiers knew to treat those workers well. As a result, they’d been the easiest for Titus’s spymaster to turn.

“His far northern stronghold,” Ozias said, “two hours east of Lumia, is much smaller. I could never get a source within that stronghold, and we had to be content with stealth flyovers or things glimpsed from a distance. We’ve only done a cursory check there, to ensure nothing dangerous lies within.”

Looking up, eyes distant in thought, she added, “The only other possible location where an underground structure could’ve been built on the quiet is right on the border.”

Titus stared at one of his best people. “Have you had enough sleep, Ozias?” he asked in genuine concern.

A rare smile from a woman who’d once drunk him under the table on a lethal brew created by Charo of all people. Not that Titus had become drunk; the archangelic system was too strong for that. But he’d had to give up on the fiery burn of the stuff going down.

“I’m not losing my mind, sire,” she said. “I’m aware that was one of the most heavily watched and guarded areas while Charisemnon was alive.”

“Then how do you believe something of such significance could’ve been built without Titus’s knowledge?” Sharine’s brow was creased.

Titus wanted to take a finger and rub those marks away, yet at the same time, he accepted that Sharine had earned her marks, her scars. She would never be a woman he could leave safe and protected inside his citadel . . . and that was assuming she even agreed to stay with him.

Stay with him.

The thought hit him like a kick to the gut from a stone boot.





40


Titus was still reeling from the unforeseen blow when Ozias began to speak.

“Because of the constant battles that took place at the border—the vast majority of them initiated by Charisemnon,” his spymaster said, “the buildings of the border garrison suffered relentless damage. All it would’ve taken was for Charisemnon to deliberately hit one of his own buildings by apparent accident. No one would’ve paid too much attention to any resulting construction, it was such a common sight.”