The Blade of Highwind: The Complete Trilogy, page 52
I sighed. “You’re missing the point.”
Slowly, almost theatrically, Farah uncrossed her legs and rose to her feet. She moved within arm’s reach of me, but I retreated a step before she could touch me.
“What point is that?” she asked, smile widening at my reaction.
“That you and the Zarul and everyone else have badly miscalculated,” I told her. “Veleca has unlocked powers with the relic beyond anything you anticipated. She’s not merely raising a few undead here and there—she’s learned how to use the relic to move them through the Pale. While the Ravenguard defends the walls, she’ll slip her army into the city and start butchering people in the streets.”
Her smile faded. “If this is some foolhardy attempt to convince me to—”
“I’m not lying,” I insisted. “I’m not even exaggerating. If we don’t figure out a way to stop Veleca, she might end up burning the whole damn city to the ground. And I doubt the Zarul are interested in having their puppet ruler lord over a graveyard.”
Farah’s eyes narrowed. “You ran off with the Starwind girl, didn’t you?”
I blinked. “What?”
“There were rumors from the harbor. I didn’t believe them at first, but those idiot smugglers obviously weren’t worth the gold I paid them.”
“Shayera got out of your little trap, yes,” I said. “But didn’t you hear anything I just said?”
“I heard you. And I’m thankful you came to your senses and returned.” She paused and crossed her arms. “Where is the Starwind girl now?”
I barely managed to keep my jaw from dropping open. “Farah, the city is about to be swarmed by undead!”
“Yes. But where is the Starwind girl?”
I hissed softly. “Nearby, waiting to help defend the city. Maybe the Sovereigns can write her a note of thanks for saving their prize from annihilation.”
I held her gaze, wondering if she would press the issue. I couldn’t understand how she could possibly be more concerned about Shayera than Veleca…but then, Farah was the one who’d arranged the abduction and hired those pirates to deliver Shay to the Imperium. I knew plenty of bureaucrats back home who would instantly drop whatever they were doing to exact revenge on someone who had sabotaged their plans. Nobles were a petty, spiteful lot.
But Farah was more calculating than all of them put together, and I held out hope that she’d be willing to focus on what was actually important here. Veleca and her powers were a direct threat to Crell interests; Shayera was nothing more than a bonus.
Isolde, on the other hand…
I repressed a grimace, more thankful than ever that I’d taken precautions to shield my mind before coming in here. The princess of Highwind may have been a tempting prize, but the daughter of Jorem Farr would be worth more than Vorsalos and Highwind put together. With the dragon blood flowing in her veins, she could be the final piece in the Imperium’s centuries long quest to build a new Avetharri Empire.
Farah couldn’t learn of Isolde’s existence. Not now, hopefully not ever. I didn’t even want to tell her that we’d saved the possessed amazon at all. It simply wasn’t worth the risk.
“All right,” Farah said, returning to her chair and gesturing for me to take a seat on the edge of the bed. “Let’s go back to when you left. Where did you go? How did you learn about all of this?”
“Does it really matter?” I asked, staying where I was. “The point is that the undead are coming. You need to convince Lord Ironsail to deploy the Corvosi early.”
“I won’t be able to convince him of anything without specifics.”
“I’m confident that you can get him to do anything you want. That’s the whole point of you being here, isn’t it?”
Farah sighed softly. “Mirek—”
“We went to Tel Noroth,” I said, spinning up the most condensed version of events I could manage. “I was able to sense new fractures in the Pale, and I discovered that the undead were hiding inside the old tower waiting for Veleca to let them back into the physical world.”
Farah’s brow creased. “I didn’t realize something like that was even possible.”
“It wouldn’t be for a human army. They’d go mad from the demonic whispers in no time…or end up possessed.” I shivered involuntarily. “But undead are just demons wearing corpses like spoiled meat puppets. They can wait behind the Veil forever, and they can traverse any terrain and walk through any walls.”
“Remarkable,” she whispered. “It reminds of your research at the Aetherium.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I muttered. “I am the expert, as you’ve pointed out.”
“And there’s no way you can prevent her from doing this?” Farah asked.
“Not as long as she has that Runic Focus. But with the Huntress out of the picture, we at least have a chance. Veleca was expecting all your secret sorcerers to be dead. With them, we might be able to contain the undead…assuming Ironsail is willing to deploy them early.”
She tapped her fingertips atop the desk in thought. “That may not be possible,” she said quietly. “For his plan to work, the Raven Court needs to view him as a savior.”
“They will,” I said even as the admission made my stomach sink. This plan might save the city, but it would give Ironsail—and the Sovereigns—exactly what they wanted in the end. “They’ll still show up and save the day. He can take all the credit he wants for training them in secret. All he needs to do is move them into defensive positions in the harbor. We’re pretty sure the bulk of Veleca’s forces will strike there while a smaller group leads a feint at the northern gate.”
“How do you know this?” Farah asked.
“I told you: we learned a great deal at Tel Noroth.”
“By having a conversation with demons?”
“We also spoke with the Huntress before we killed her,” I added, hoping that would be enough to keep her from pressing any further. “We have an opportunity here, Farah. If we act quickly, we can end this insanity and get your superiors exactly what they want.”
Farah arched a dainty eyebrow. “I’m surprised to hear you put it that way. But relieved that you aren’t a traitor after all.”
I sighed. “I never was.”
She smiled. Not wolfishly or even smugly, but genuinely.
“We’re a thousand miles from Drakendaar,” she told me. “The Zarul don’t need to know every single detail of what happened here. If the Corvosi prevail and you seal the fractures, there’s no reason your family can’t receive the rewards they were promised. There’s no reason you can’t return to the Imperium as a hero.”
I grunted. “You know, there’s a small part of me that actually believes you.”
“You should. All I want—all I’ve ever wanted—is to complete my mission. If your mistakes don’t get in my way, they’re easily forgotten.”
Keeping her eyes locked intently on mine, Farah rose back to her feet and sauntered toward me. Even when I was furious with her, the sway of her hips as she moved—accentuated by the height of her heels—was utterly mesmerizing.
“And if you help me deliver the Starwind girl to the Council,” she purred, reaching out to my face, “all the better.”
I snatched her wrist before she made contact. “You’re not getting her,” I said. “Put that out of your mind right now.”
Farah chuckled. “She must be quite an amazing girl.”
She is, I thought. And so is Isolde. Zarach forbid the Sovereigns ever learn that the Dragon of Highwind had a daughter.
“You said that all you care about is your mission,” I reminded her, releasing my grip. “Well, Shayera isn’t your mission. Forget about her.”
Farah’s eyes glittered in amusement, but then she shrugged. “Fine—forget the girl. We’ll consider her another of your indiscretions the Zarul don’t need to know about.”
“Good,” I said, wondering if I should believe her. “Thank you.”
“That is, assuming you’re willing to do your job. The fractures will need to be sealed. It might be worth teaching some of the Corvosi how.”
“Maybe,” I said noncommittally. “But let’s worry about tonight first. If you go and talk to the Regent Lord, I’ll do what I can elsewhere.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Farah said. “And you’re going to come with me.”
I froze. “What?”
“There are limits to what I can tell him without compromising my cover. Ironsail isn’t a complete idiot—he knows I’m here to keep an eye on him. But he doesn’t know I’m a sorceress or how much time I’ve spent building my own network of contacts in the city. I intend to keep it that way.”
“Okay,” I said, eyes narrowing, “so you want a complete stranger to tell him what to do with his soldiers? Do you really think that’s better?”
“You’re not a stranger—you’re an Imperial advisor. He knows that you and the other trainers are here, Mirek. If you tell him what you’ve learned, he’ll have no reason to doubt you.”
I’d anticipated plenty of outcomes from this meeting—mostly ways in which Farah could fuck me over or try to ruin everything. But it never occurred to me that she might want me to speak with Ironsail myself. I’d seen the man at a handful of social engagements over the past few months, but I’d never had a one-on-one conversation with him. And I’d hoped I’d never have to.
Sighing, I ran my hand back through my hair. I wanted to get back to the girls as soon as possible, if for no other reason than to keep Shayera from getting into any trouble before tonight. But the entire purpose of coming here had been to get those soldiers into position. A little carousing with the Imperium’s would-be puppet was a small price to pay for stopping the apocalypse.
“If you think it’s best,” I said. “But I didn’t come prepared to give a speech.”
Farah smiled again, and this time it was definitely smug.
“I’ll tell you everything you need to know to get on his good side,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
7
Further Training
Shayera
As usual, my spur-of-the-moment, why-bother-ever-thinking-ahead-when-things-always-went-my-way plan worked out flawlessly.
Well, not flawlessly, but as well as I could have hoped. While the artificer’s shop didn’t sell the exact item I was looking for, it had a version that was arguably even better. At first, I assumed that the shopkeeper was trying to scam me by making outlandish claims about her merchandise, but once she explained that the device was one of many similar items confiscated from the Castarium after the Senosi were overthrown, its features made sense. That dark history also explained the very reasonable barter price.
Had we been in Highwind, I could have spent that much coin without my parents raising an eyebrow, but here in Vorsalos I didn’t have access to the family coffers. And since I didn’t have the time or inclination to find a place where I could put on another dueling performance and earn a few silvers, I knew I’d have to make an unfortunate sacrifice to get the coin I needed.
I didn’t own much in general, and even I wasn’t crazy enough to sell my armor or swords. I could have parted with my new red dress, but that wouldn’t have felt right. For one, I looked amazing in it. For two, I probably looked even more amazing having it peeled off of me. And for three…
Well, perhaps I was being overly sentimental, but I couldn’t stand the thought of getting rid of the outfit I’d been wearing during such a special night. Most girls kept their wedding dresses as a memento of true love; I kept the dress I’d been wearing when my boyfriend had fucked me for the first time.
The principle was basically the same.
So instead of the dress, I traded my only other worthwhile possession, figuring I wouldn’t have much need of it anymore. And the instant I had the item in hand, I tucked it into my bag and practically sprinted out of the shop back to Isolde.
During my quick shopping spree, I’d done everything I could to keep focused in the hope of confusing her collar. It didn’t seem like she could read all my thoughts, only very intense ones. If this worked, I needed to remember this trick for the future.
The second part of my plan involved a quick negotiation with the café owner. I didn’t have any silver left after my trade, so getting an inn was out of the question. But even if I’d had a few coins left, I rather liked the idea of being alone with her in the cool air of the balcony. Maybe it was because the “Lookout” was so unique…or maybe it was just my exhibitionist streak rearing its head again. Whatever the case, I was determined to secure us at least an hour of privacy, which didn’t seem like all that much to ask in the waning hours before the lunch crowd arrived.
It took more cajoling than I would have liked, including the expected smiles and eyelash flutters and accidental flashes of cleavage. But I eventually convinced the man to temporarily close off the third floor to give us an hour alone. I also made a promise to myself to come back and buy something expensive here later once I had access to Mirek’s coin purse. My Crell boy toy would probably fuss about it a bit, but not after I promised to give him a long, detailed description of how Isolde and I passed the time. Dimly, I wondered if he’d even get to the end of the story before he popped in my hand…
With thoughts of gloriously sticky fingers and the resulting tattoo feeding frenzy on my mind, I raced up the steps to the third floor and found Isolde waiting there alone as I’d hoped. She was sitting patiently in one of the wooden chairs, legs crossed and weapons on the table in front of her, though she rose the moment she spotted me.
“Told you it wouldn’t take long,” I said, giving her a coquettish smirk as I skipped over to her.
“What is it you purchased?” she asked as I set the pack down at my feet.
“Something to help pass the time,” I said with a vague wave of my hand. “Mirek still all right?”
Isolde nodded. “Yes. He is still waiting…though he is increasingly frustrated.”
“He’s not the only one,” I said, stepping up to her and sliding my arms around her waist. “I just went twenty minutes without kissing you!”
I pressed our mouths together before she could reply, and our tongues hastily resumed their earlier dance. I was less worried about my tattoos exploding in light now that we had some guaranteed privacy, especially because of the daylight. If I had been dark, the haunting radiance from my tattoos would probably be visible to anyone in the district.
Every second we kissed got me hotter, and in less than a minute, my fire had been stoked right back to where it had been before. I needed to get this girl beneath me—or on top of me—as fast as possible.
I gasped softly as I pulled away, briefly overwhelmed. I actually felt her teeter on her feet thanks to the echo of my lust compressed together with hers.
“Are you not worried about someone entering the café?” Isolde panted. “Mainlanders are often concerned about public displays of affection.”
“The third floor is ours for the next hour,” I said. “Give you any ideas?”
The amazon smiled. “Do you wish me to relieve you now?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”
Her eyes flashed. “Then I shall perform my duties.”
I half expected her to drop to her knees in front of me as if I were a man, if for no other reason than because she’d done it so eagerly last night with Mirek. I certainly wouldn’t have complained; there was something enticing about looming over a lover while he—or she—prostrated herself to please you.
But Isolde didn’t kneel, at least not at first. Instead, she abruptly grabbed hold of my hips and lifted me up into her arms. I yelped in surprise but reacted instinctively, looping my arms behind her neck as if she were a man. She carried me effortlessly, as if I weighed little more than a feather, which I chose to take as a compliment rather than a sign of her ongoing demonic possession. Because frankly, if all the demon inside her wanted to do was make her strong and horny, getting rid of it was not a priority.
She plopped me down on the edge of the largest café table, one clearly designed for a half a dozen people. Her agile fingers made short work of my belt and scabbard, setting them and my swords down before shifting her attention to my trousers. Both they and my panties slid easily over my slender hips. My bald quim was there waiting for her, slick and ready.
And then she dropped to her knees.
Bracing my wrists on the table to stay upright, I eagerly spread my legs for her, my breath catching in my throat in anticipation of her touch. Isolde leaned forward, eyes hungry and lips parted—only to pause barely an inch from my sex. The warmth of her breath sent a tingle rippling through me, and my brow furrowed in confusion and frustration.
“No,” Isolde said, shaking her head. “The rules must be applied equally.”
“What?” I gasped.
Leaning back again, she reached up to unstrap her leather breastplate.
I grinned. Technically, I had told her that men were visual creatures, but there was absolutely no world where I would ever complain about getting an eyeful of her magnificent tits.
Isolde flashed me a sly look once she’d liberated them—one I was reasonably sure she had learned from me—and arched her back slightly, giving me a chance to appreciate the perky bronze swells, their russet peaks proudly erect. Then she stretched forward and brought her lips to my sex. I shuddered in delight at the subtle brush of her tongue and again when it flicked across my clit. Her fingers weren’t far behind, probing and massaging my swollen folds before finally taking the plunge and sliding inside me.
I moaned low in my throat at the delicious stretch. Back in Nelu’Thalas, Tairi had once told me that there was no comparison to a woman’s intimate touch, that only we could truly unlock the deepest pleasures in our own bodies. She’d done her best to prove that theory during our time together, but Mirek had utterly shattered it. He’d ignited my pyre even without the aid of his delicious sorcerous power. He was always the perfect mix of tender and rough, calculated and animalistic.
