The Trouble with Demons (Raine Benares #3)

The Trouble with Demons (Raine Benares #3) Page 46

I stood on one side of the door, Muralin on the other. There wasn’t nearly enough distance between us for my comfort, but it was far enough to keep him from slipping a dagger in my ribs. But it wasn’t a dagger that I was in danger from. It was his voice.

“I assure you that I will not try to bend you to my will,” he murmured. His voice dropped into a low, seductive register. “Unless you want me to.”

“Maybe next time.”

His smile was slow and mocking. “Though it would be amusing to watch Silvanus’s reaction if you suddenly wanted nothing more than to walk out of here with me. It would certainly save me much effort over the next few days.” His black eyes started at my boots and worked their way up—and took their sweet time doing it. “But some prizes are worth the wait.”

My eyes took in the not-quite-healed teeth marks in his right ear. My teeth marks.

“Nasty bite you have there, Ambassador Muralin . . . Excuse me, Mal’Salin. You should have that looked at.”

The goblin’s smile vanished. “I keep it to remind me of unpaid debts.”

“So did the former ambassador get a chance to clean out his desk, or did you just bury him in the basement?”

“I told His Majesty that I would prefer to quietly retrieve that which I came to Mid for. Your interference—along with Tamnais, his half-breed spawn, and Piaras—forced me to use a different approach. Do not think for one moment that I have forgotten their involvement. I repay all of my debts.”

I wasn’t going to be goaded into going down that road. “At least Sathrik let you keep your real first name.” I glanced over at the Khrynsani. “Keeps your minions from getting too confused.”

“Considering my youthful appearance, His Majesty thought it best to give me the use of the royal surname. He thought it might smooth the transition from the previous administration and open a few doors that might otherwise be closed to me.” He winked. “And my own name is rather notorious.”

“And no one would dare question or deny a Mal’Salin.”

“Precisely.” His black eyes glittered. “As you are well aware, I dislike being denied anything.”

“Get used to it, goblin.”

Genteel threats, all delivered under our breaths with amiable smiles for curious onlookers. I could fake nice, too.

“You take a great risk, Raine. As long as you and the Saghred remain on this island, it will be a target for those who desire power—and there are many who desire power. The last time the Saghred was on Mid was nearly a thousand years ago. Your father brought it here for protection. He realized the danger and fled with the stone. Now there is a college here with eager, young students, hungry for knowledge—and vulnerable. And thanks to you and Paladin Eiliesor bringing the Saghred here, now there are mages hungry for power. And demons hungry for students. My allies want power on this island and beyond. Your paladin stands in their way. They want him gone. I want the Saghred. You give it to me and they get disappointed.”

“I give you the rock and you’ll go away?”

Muralin snapped his elegant fingers. “Just like that.”

“Right. And I’ll bet you have a bridge in Laerin you want to sell me.”

The goblin laughed, vibrant and wantonly seductive. “We are not so different, you and I. When we want something, we will do whatever necessary to attain it.”

I felt the pull of his voice, the power that had been running under his words. Softly coaxing, gently probing at my will.

I pushed back.

I intended a psychic slap; it landed more like a jaw-shattering punch thanks to Mychael and Tam’s combined power inside me. I hadn’t meant to do it, but seeing the goblin flinch sharply in pain made it all worthwhile.

Muralin went utterly still. “You are stronger than before.”

“I’ve been working out.”

“I need that strength, Raine. And I will have it—and I will have you.” He didn’t wait for a response, but turned and went back to where Carnades waited. “I believe I am finished here, Magus Silvanus. Whenever you are ready, we will go.”

I swallowed and forced the shaking that had started to stop, right now. I didn’t want to do what I was going to do next, but I had to. I needed to know if Carnades was in this up to his pointed ears, or if Muralin had duped him. I was betting for the latter. So I’d do the right thing and try to enlighten the pigheaded jerk. That way, when Muralin dropped the civilized act, Carnades couldn’t say that I didn’t warn him.

“Magus Silvanus, may I have a brief word with you?” I was pretty sure Carnades would take the bait. I didn’t think he could resist some semipublic posturing and threats.

The elven mage paused and regarded me, searching for any sign of trickery. I didn’t move, but he did, right over to where I was standing. I took a breath and tried to force any emotion out of my voice. I kept my voice low, my eyes on Carnades.

“I don’t suppose you’d believe that His Excellency over there is Rudra Muralin, Saghred wielder, elf slayer, and evil incarnate, would you?”

Carnades’s smile had zero humor. “That would make him nearly a thousand years old.”

“He is.”

“He died at the bottom of the Great Rift.”

“He didn’t stay that way.”

“I can add slander to your list of offenses.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Mistress Benares, please refrain from trying to convince others that your Saghred-induced delusions are anything other than manifestations of your deteriorating mind.”

I couldn’t believe the next words actually came out of my mouth. “Be careful with him.” They came out from between clenched teeth, but they did make it out.

“He is a goblin and a Mal’Salin, that goes without saying.” Carnades said “goblin” with the sentiment normally reserved for something you scraped off your boots.

That did it; Carnades deserved everything he got.

“I am open to the possibility that you may not have called the demons,” Carnades said, a cold light in his pale blue eyes. He raised his voice so those standing nearby could hear. “You are a seeker. Our chief watcher and Paladin Eiliesor have said that you are one of the best they have ever encountered.” His smile was bright and beautiful. “I want you to find the Hellgate, Mistress Benares. Find it and close it. The demons fear you; the task should be quite simple.”

“Or I’ll be quite simply dead.”

He lowered his voice, but the smile stayed right where it was. “An unfortunate risk. Your loss will be mourned.”

“Right. I’ll bet you want to deliver the eulogy yourself.”

“The pleasure would be all mine. Should you by some slim chance survive, I might be willing to discuss your continued freedom. If you fail, the demons will save the Conclave the trouble of a trial and execution.”

“And if I find it and can’t close it, I get ripped apart by demons or dragged through a Hellgate.”

“Either option would be a fitting end for you.”

“Let’s see, topside with you and your mage politicians; or at a Hellgate, risking life, limb, and soul with demons.” I didn’t have to think for long about that one. “Demons or politicians?” My smile was a baring of teeth. “I’d rather go to Hell.”

Piaras stepped out into the hall, saw Rudra Muralin, Carnades, and me and immediately stepped in front of Talon, blocking him from sight. Talon’s breath exploded in an oof as he walked right into Piaras’s back. My hand went to a throwing dagger concealed in my doublet. Muralin made no move toward Piaras; he inclined his head in greeting. Piaras hesitated and then coolly returned the gesture.

Carnades and Rudra Muralin left, their entourages in tow.

In my family, we believed that you couldn’t just let your archenemy brazenly walk around in public. It was bad for the family reputation, aside from being just plain embarrassing.

Rudra Muralin looked back. I knew he couldn’t resist seeing if his threats had left me shaking in my boots. When he did, I did what Uncle Ryn had used to great effect many times. Uncle Ryn was huge and imposing. I was little and pissed and scared. But when it came to payback, size didn’t matter, and anger won out over fear anytime.

Rudra’s dark eyes gleamed in triumph. I gave him my most winning smile. To everyone else, it looked like I was just being friendly. Whenever Uncle Ryn threw in a wink and a chuckle, it meant: “Your ass is mine. I know how I’m going to do it, and you won’t know a thing until it happens. Have a nice day.”

I threw in the wink and chuckle.

The goblin got the message, and I saw a flicker of doubt in his black eyes.

My grin broadened and I gave him a little finger wave. It was always nice to have my efforts appreciated.

Killing Rudra Muralin the ancient Saghred wielder would be extermination. Killing Rudra Mal’Salin the goblin ambassador would be an assassination. One was welcomed with gratitude; the other with a noose. Big difference. Careful thought was called for. Just because Rudra Muralin had cleverly maneuvered around me didn’t mean he was getting away, not by a long shot. Sure, I was scared, I was angry, but most of all I felt challenged. Challenges could be fun; it was all in how you handled it.

Vegard joined me.

“Muralin has the goblin king’s blessing for anything he does,” I murmured. I looked up at Vegard. “You know what I have to do.”

“Yes, ma’am. I know.” He scowled at the now-closed door Carnades and Muralin had left though. “Let’s go get that dagger.”

Chapter 24

Housebreaking wasn’t just about breaking into a house. Any street thief could break a window and crawl in. The trick was to get in, get what you came for, and get out without breaking anything—all without getting caught.

And without setting off the house wards of one of the most powerful mages in the seven kingdoms.

Normally I loved a challenge, but this was one that I could do without. So I brought in a professional. While I felt perfectly capable of handling it myself, I was a firm believer in qualified backup.