The Elvenbane Part 30

Now that had possibilities, indeed. She wondered how far his mind could reach. It would be worth his keep if he could only read thoughts in the next room-but if he could go farther than that, it opened up an entire realm of possibilities.

She'd never been willing to play politics before, because she never had the kinds of holds over some of the elders that she she thought were necessary. But with a wizard to worm out their secrets, politics could prove a very rewarding arena indeed. thought were necessary. But with a wizard to worm out their secrets, politics could prove a very rewarding arena indeed.

And a last thought-a sobering one, but the answer to a problem that had been plaguing her for years.

Shadow managed to escape detection for years without without Valyn's help-and then with it, never was uncovered until Valyn was caught scrying out the other wizards. She wondered how many other halfbloods there were out there, hiding under illusions? Valyn's help-and then with it, never was uncovered until Valyn was caught scrying out the other wizards. She wondered how many other halfbloods there were out there, hiding under illusions?

It didn't have to be an illusion of full humanity, either. It could could be an illusion of full elven blood. She'd bet Valyn had never thought of that. be an illusion of full elven blood. She'd bet Valyn had never thought of that.

She played with her hair and considered the idea from all possible angles. It made perfect sense. How many elven ladies, afraid that they would be discarded by a powerful spouse, resorted to their human servants for the fertility their lords lacked?

What elven lord would ever ever argue with being presented with the male heir he needed so desperately? argue with being presented with the male heir he needed so desperately?

The halfblood would not even need to feign mage-powers; he would have have them... them...

For that matter, now she wondered how many elven lords thought of as being powerful mages were actually halfbloods, or the sons of halfbloods?

Now that was a startling thought.

Not Dyran, though. She was sure of that. He'd never have hounded that concubine of his to death if he'd been a halfblood himself- Unless he didn't know it; unless his mother had kept that that a secret even from him. a secret even from him.

What a thought!

A wicked smile played about her lips, as she considered every illusion-dispelling incantation she knew.

Imagine casting the spell on him at the right moment- in Council, say in Council, say- and proof there stands Lord Dyran, the halfblood and proof there stands Lord Dyran, the halfblood!

She played with the idea for a while, then gave it up, regretfully.

Really, she doubted very much that he was. He'd made more than enough enemies over the years that he had had to have had something like an illusion-breaking spell cast on him at least once. And Valyn showed every mark of pure breeding, and if there had been any illusions cast on him, she'd have noticed. It was an entertaining idea, but there wasn't much chance of it being more than amusing entertainment. to have had something like an illusion-breaking spell cast on him at least once. And Valyn showed every mark of pure breeding, and if there had been any illusions cast on him, she'd have noticed. It was an entertaining idea, but there wasn't much chance of it being more than amusing entertainment.

But there was another, equally interesting idea.

The problem for a woman Clan head had always been to find a mate that wouldn't try to take over the Clan seat for himself, and produce an heir that was unlikely to challenge her as he grew older. And yet she couldn't produce an idiot or a weakling, either. That would be just as much a disaster. If she mated with an elven lord of much much inferior powers, her offspring was likely to have inferior powers, and either the heir or the Clan would end up being challenged. With a weak heir, they would wind up with a cadet line in charge of the Clan seat, or they would be forced to ally themselves with a Clan that was likely to eat them alive. inferior powers, her offspring was likely to have inferior powers, and either the heir or the Clan would end up being challenged. With a weak heir, they would wind up with a cadet line in charge of the Clan seat, or they would be forced to ally themselves with a Clan that was likely to eat them alive.

But what if she she mated with a human-no one asked the Clan heads who the fathers of their children were if they didn't choose to reveal an alliance marriage or mating. What if some of them were mating with humans? mated with a human-no one asked the Clan heads who the fathers of their children were if they didn't choose to reveal an alliance marriage or mating. What if some of them were mating with humans?

It would be easy enough to cast illusions then! And easy enough to keep them in place.

And all the while the child was growing up, the Lady had herself a budding wizard, bound to her by the strongest tie there was, of mother to child. If that tie stopped working as a controlling factor, the threat of exposure for what he was would keep him in his place.

What an outrageous thought!

And what an intriguing one...

And as Triana stared up at the stars, the most intriguing thought of all occurred to her.

I wonder if I ought to try that wonder if I ought to try that ... ...

Chapter 21.

SHANA BURIED HER nose in her book as Triana sailed past the door of the library, and smoldered with resentment. The words on the page blurred for a moment as she brought her anger under control. Triana had done it again this morning, made her look like a fool in front of everyone, and had left her no out but to pretend to laugh at the joke. The elven maiden's delicate condescension had not escaped the intended target, and Shana was heartily sick of it-and the general misery brought on by the cold she still suffered from didn't help matters. When she complained about Triana's behavior, Valyn claimed she was being oversensitive. So she had decided to avoid Triana as much . as possible, which, in a place this size, wasn't really difficult.

The library was the best place to go, and Shana blessed her foster mother's foresight in training her in the written version of elven tongue. Triana's forefathers had ama.s.sed quite a collection of instructional volumes, including those on magic-and Shana had just found the answer to some of her questions here.

Why did the elven lords destroy the wizards one by one, rather than together? And where did they get the power to do some of the things described in the old chronicles-like building manors overnight?

She s.h.i.+fted a little more in the overstuffed, velvet-cus.h.i.+oned chair, and reread the last paragraph of her chapter. Yes, there it was. The answer had turned out to be appallingly simple. If a magic-wielder was unguarded, it was possible to steal steal his power. It would return, usually within a day, but while it was gone he was defenseless. The trick was that one had to be within a certain distance of the victim-line of sight, usually. You didn't have to be able to see him, so long as you knew him, but you had to be within that distance. This was the first time she had ever seen the spell and its execution and results printed openly. his power. It would return, usually within a day, but while it was gone he was defenseless. The trick was that one had to be within a certain distance of the victim-line of sight, usually. You didn't have to be able to see him, so long as you knew him, but you had to be within that distance. This was the first time she had ever seen the spell and its execution and results printed openly.

So that was why they killed off the wizards one at a time-so that they could also steal the wizard's power.

Without a doubt, all of the elven lords stayed guarded against just such an occurrence, of course, whenever they were with others of their kind. This was one spell that was democratic in its effect-the weaker could very easily steal from the stronger if he knew the trick.

Now Shana knew how the old wizards and the elven lords of the past had pulled off major spells that required much more power than a single magic-wielder could ever have-like the one that could transport several people from one place to another, the more elaborate version of the one the wizards now used to steal goods from the elves. They stole it. Or, in the case of the wizards, they loaned loaned it. Possibly the elven lords had cooperated that way in the past, but they certainly weren't doing so now. it. Possibly the elven lords had cooperated that way in the past, but they certainly weren't doing so now.

The fact that it hadn't been used in so long that the written record of it had "fallen out" of books wasn't really surprising. Like a fancy "secret move" in sword work, which, once it is used and known, becomes useless because everyone guards against it, this stealing of power was no longer an effective weapon because everyone expected it when they knew they -were in the company of other, possibly adversarial, elven lords. But that didn't mean that they guarded against it all the time...

No one could be on his guard all the time. Especially not when it was something you had to work to s.h.i.+eld against.

And it certainly didn't mean that Shadow, Valyn, or even Triana were on guard against the ploy.

Shana closed the book and pondered her options.

Right now, it looked as if Valyn's big plan to help the humans and halfbloods had pretty much come to nothing. So whatever got done, she was going to have to be the one to do it. She nodded grimly to herself. I should have known better than to get involved with those two. I can't undo it, so now I'm going to have to live with it should have known better than to get involved with those two. I can't undo it, so now I'm going to have to live with it . Maybe if she managed to pull this "cause" together, . Maybe if she managed to pull this "cause" together, that that would get Valyn's attention. would get Valyn's attention.

She reopened the book, and checked the text carefully, then decided to make some little experiments, figuring that she could probably drain power in such small quant.i.ties that it would scarcely be noticed. Considering how much they'd used her, she thought resentfully, it would serve them right.

Shadow, in particular, with Triana a close second.

From the moment they had entered the house, Triana had been making much of Shadow, and mostly ignoring the others. She'd even cured his cold-ignoring Shana, who was just as miserable. Predictably enough, it seemed that Shadow stopped thinking whenever the beautiful elven woman was around.

Shana's lip curled with contempt. Men. Completely useless Men. Completely useless . .

Valyn had persuaded him to the handfasting-a simple ritual ceremony he himself had presided over-but if he had expected it to make the two of them fall madly in love, he had been sadly disappointed. Shana had no intention of following that that particular plan. particular plan.

Though Shadow's reaction had not been exactly what Shana had foreseen either. She had approached Shadow afterwards, intending to tell him frankly that she wasn't in the least interested in him him , only to have him steal a march on her. , only to have him steal a march on her.

She seethed a little inside, with resentment and frustration, and squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. It was one thing to plan on jilting someone-but when the person you intended to jilt had the same thing in mind, it didn't do a lot for your pride... She'd made her little speech, too, just to save face, but it certainly fell flat. He hadn't reacted at all, that she could tell.

Well, let him have Triana, then. She would choose power. She She would accomplish great things, while he wasted his time playing the fool to a woman who'd discard him as soon as she tired of him. would accomplish great things, while he wasted his time playing the fool to a woman who'd discard him as soon as she tired of him.

And the first task: cure this wretched cold.

The summer wind blew his hair all awry as Valyn set Triana's high-spirited little gelding into a gallop, riding out some of his restlessness and frustration. None of this was going as he had planned or hoped. Once they had reached this safe harbor, instead of everyone in the group pulling together and starting to plan how to take on the elven lords and the wizards, they all fell apart, drifting off to their own interests, the greater tasks ignored or forgotten.

While they plunged through a field of sweet-scented wildflowers, he guided the horse with skillful hands and a light pressure on the rein, and wondered what went wrong.

He'd used glamories on both Shana and Mero to get them to agree to the handfasting-but it hadn't worked. Or at least, it hadn't done more than get them to the handfasting. Once the handfasting ceremony was complete, they had gone off together-he'd thought for certain that they were starting to make a pair of it, that his glamories had worked.

But not too much later, he'd seen Shana alone in the library and Mero with Triana. The handfasting might just as well not have taken place.

He set the horse down a purposely overgrown path, where jumps appeared unexpectedly. The horse strained over the tallest of these, needing his encouragement to tackle them. He guided the gelding skillfully, and the horse responded-but not even the speed and the exhilaration of the jumping-course could shake the uneasy feeling that he'd done something wrong and it was backlas.h.i.+ng on him. The horse took obstacle after obstacle, and he could not leave his worry behind him.

He wasn't particularly happy with the way Mero was spending so much time with Triana. His cousin had a.s.sured him that he was trying to bring Triana around to their point of view, to recruit her fully for the cause, but it didn't look like there was much recruiting going on...

He was being stupid, he told himself firmly, bringing the lathered horse to a walk and letting him cool himself down. Mero was just getting to her through the things she knew best. She had a good heart; when he got her to listen, Valyn knew Mero would bring her around. It was just a matter of time.

But he couldn't rid himself the premonition that they had an increasingly small amount of that time left.

Triana smiled at Mero, settled down on the couch beside him, and let her glamorie steal gently over him, binding him even tighter to her will. She didn't really have to condition most of her slaves; for all except the really strong-willed or dangerous, all she ever had to do was cast a glamorie. That That was her strongest magic, the much-underrated magic of glamorie. The subtle webs of power that she wove were the reason why none of the elders had set their sights on her or her properties-why no one had ever seriously challenged her once she'd come to power-why her slaves were fanatically devoted to her. was her strongest magic, the much-underrated magic of glamorie. The subtle webs of power that she wove were the reason why none of the elders had set their sights on her or her properties-why no one had ever seriously challenged her once she'd come to power-why her slaves were fanatically devoted to her.

She had put her entire stable of favorites aside for Mero's sake; the first few weeks were critical in the weaving of as complex a spell as she was working. Any jarring note could force her to reweave the foundations again. Once the net was in place and tight, she could do anything she chose with her victim, but until then, she had to move very carefully.

Mero's eyes glazed and he smiled happily back at her, gazing at her with his full attention. "And what should we do today?" she asked him. "I think we've surely gone over every bit of the estate by now; we've been riding, hawking, and hunting nearly every day. Is there anything you'd like to see or do?"

His eyes focused a little more, and he tilted his head to one side as he thought. Triana fluttered her eyelashes at him, enjoying the effect her flirtations had. She hadn't taken him to bed yet-she would save that for the moment she set the glamorie. Until then it was rather enjoyable, playing with him, first courting and then drawing back.

Valyn probably thinks I'm bedding him every night, she thought with carefully concealed amus.e.m.e.nt. And he doesn't approve And he doesn't approve . She wondered if his prejudices were finally showing-it was all right to befriend a human or a halfblood, but don't go to bed with one. . She wondered if his prejudices were finally showing-it was all right to befriend a human or a halfblood, but don't go to bed with one.

Poor fool, he couldn't see how that untidy little halfblood girl fawned on his every word. Or if he did, for some reason he was pretending he didn't. Triana hadn't had so much fun since the Midsummer Party last year when everyone turned out to be everyone else's lover, betraying each other on all sides, and no one knew it until they got to the party and the drink started to flow!

Mero blinked, as if he were trying to think of something. "I-you know, this probably sounds boring to you-but I'd really like to see what a Council session is like," he said finally. "I don't think I could get inside alone; I don't know how, I don't even know where it's held. And anyway I'm not good enough to do my own illusion of disguise yet. But you you are, and since you're a Clan head, you could get in, right?" are, and since you're a Clan head, you could get in, right?"

Triana raised her eyebrows in surprise. So he was still thinking for himself. She hadn't thought he had that much willpower left. Obviously she was going to have to be extra-careful in setting the glamorie. "I could. Why?" she asked casually. "Is there a point in going?"

"Well, it's just that you learn a lot about an enemy from the way he acts with his peers," Mero said slowly. "And I want to see Dyran with his peers. I've never seen him as anything other than the master, and I have the feeling that he's the real enemy we'll have to face."

Interesting that he was still thinking of Dyran as an enemy, which meant he still had Valyn's "cause" on his mind. Well, it couldn't hurt to humor him.

"I do have a gallery box," she said, playing with her hair and looking up through her lashes coyly. "I don't use it very often but-why not?" She jumped to her feet, and gave her hand gracefully to Mero. "Here, stand up. I can't work on you while you're sitting there."

He rose obediently, and she admired the play of muscles beneath his s.h.i.+rt as he moved. His frame, light, but strong, was much more to her taste than the attenuated bodies of elven men. Or even the bulky forms of human men, for that matter.

She really did need a little wizard for her very own, she mused, and she spun a careful mist of illusion that lightened his dark hair to silver-blond, thinned his body, lengthened his ears, and bleached his complexion to pale alabaster. Once I get him broken in, he just might turn out to be the best lover I've ever had Once I get him broken in, he just might turn out to be the best lover I've ever had . .

Her work done, she stepped back and admired it critically. "I think that will do," she said, nodding. "Are you ready? Come on, there's a Council session going on now."

"How are we going to get there?" he asked, as she turned without waiting for his answer, and led the way to her father's study at a fast walk. "Lord Dyran has to spend a week in travel to get there, but Lord Leremyn lives farther away and gets home every night. What's the trick?"

"Every one of the original High Lords had a permanent spell-cabinet in their manor," she said over her shoulder, as he trotted down the white marble hallway to catch up with her. "It only goes one place: the Council building at the capital. We can't change it, and if we ever tried to move it, the spell would break. Lords like Dyran, who are upstarts, really, don't have one. There were a few of them destroyed during the Wizard War, but most of them still work. The idea was that with the cabinets, lords could live on their estates and govern them while still sitting on Council. Of course, the ones that don't have the cabinets have to live in the capital during Council season, but that's just too bad for them, really."

"Why don't they just build their own?" Mero asked, as she paused in her chatter long enough to open the study door.

"Because it takes too much power," she explained. "The old ones built the cabinets as the manors were being built, and they all all contributed to each cabinet's spell, all twenty of them. It took them a year, and they couldn't do anything magical at all during the year except to build the cabinets, it took that much power." contributed to each cabinet's spell, all twenty of them. It took them a year, and they couldn't do anything magical at all during the year except to build the cabinets, it took that much power."

Unspoken was the implication that the elven lords on the Council these days didn't trust one another enough to either contribute power or lie helpless while recovering, in order to build more cabinets. She wondered if Mero had picked that up.

Probably, she decided, looking at his thoughtful expression as she pulled back the pale-pink satin drapery that concealed the cabinet, and handed him one of her sardonyx seals from the drawer of the dainty carved-birch desk in front of it.

"Here," she said. "Don't lose this. The cabinet here here only works one-way, but the one at the Council building won't know where to send you home if you don't have this with you." only works one-way, but the one at the Council building won't know where to send you home if you don't have this with you."

Obediently, he pocketed it, and she pulled the door open for him. There was just barely enough room inside for two.

"Get in," she said, and followed him, closing the door after herself and giggling when he tickled her playfully.

They returned at nightfall, and Mero handed her out of the cabinet with a great deal of gallantry, but none of the playfulness he'd shown earlier. The room had been made ready for their return; lights burning, and the curtains drawn as she preferred them. She broke the illusion on him with that touch, and his face s.h.i.+mmered and changed as she allowed him to resume his core-illusion, of full humanity.

He looked at her thoughtfully, and she smiled. He smiled back, but didn't say anything, and Triana gathered that the Council session had really opened his eyes to the reality of elven politics-and the strength of Lord Dyran.

The subject that had been before the Council was a dispute between two of the lesser lords-one which seemed simple on the surface, but involved the prestige and welfare of at least a half dozen Council members. And the rest, of course, had bets riding on the outcome. Insofar as she had been able, Triana had kept up a running commentary on exactly who was involved with what, who was being betrayed, who was likely to turn his coat if the tide turned against him. Dyran, who, as always, was covering both sides without either side knowing that he was, controlled both halves of the conflict with a masterful hand.

If Mero had to pick a day to visit the Council, this was a good one, she thought with satisfaction, as she had Mero take a seat, and summoned a servant to fetch them a late meal. Not like the day they spent arguing over trade quotas and the Council tax on oat harvests.

She felt a little light-headed, and recognized the symptoms for what they were. "If you don't mind, Mero," she said, breaking into the young halfblood's reverie, "I'm going to go change. I'll be right back."

He kissed her hand as she stood, and she gave him a dazzling smile before turning away and going out the study door.

She didn't really want to change; she wanted to reinforce the glamorie, and for that she needed one of the talismans in which she had stored power. Besides creating the illusion for Mero, the transport-cabinet used her her energy for the actual transportation, and she was depleted. But no matter how depleted she was, one thing she would never do was to allow any of the slaves to handle her talismans. That would be inviting disaster. You never knew when one of them might have enough residual wizard-power and will left to use the stored energy of the talisman to counter the spells on his collar. energy for the actual transportation, and she was depleted. But no matter how depleted she was, one thing she would never do was to allow any of the slaves to handle her talismans. That would be inviting disaster. You never knew when one of them might have enough residual wizard-power and will left to use the stored energy of the talisman to counter the spells on his collar.

She wouldn't run; it wasn't dignified. But she hurried her steps as much as she could without running, her heels echoing in the white marble hall, and let herself into her room without any fanfare. There was no one there, which was just as well. She tried not to let anyone know where she kept her talismans, not even the lowest of the slaves.

She took the key from around her wrist and unlocked the appropriate drawer of her white-lacquered jewel cabinet, and looked through her talismanic jewelry until she found the necklace of amber that matched her creamy-gold gown. She slipped it on over her head hurriedly, and immediately felt better, less as if she were reduced to a mere wisp of herself. Being depleted always made her feel as if she were likely to blow away on the next breeze.

She returned to Mero, her steps echoing confidently up the hall. She thought she heard male voices somewhere ahead, and didn't give it a second thought. But as she approached the door, she heard the sound of a splintering crash, and the thud thud of two bodies on the floor. of two bodies on the floor.

Ancestors! What on earth? Who would dare- She flung the door open, just in time to see Mero receive a kick in the ribs that sent him flying into the wall, taking one of her little carved-birch chairs with him. The chair did not survive the impact. Mero did, but not well.

Triana whirled, her power rising within her, to confront Mero's a.s.sailant. A huge, muscular, dark-haired man stalked past her, ignoring her presence and advancing on Mero with blood-l.u.s.t in his eyes. She recognized him with surprise. It was a human named Laras, one of her stable, a slave who had been intended for the gladiatorial ranks before she had taken him for her own purposes. If he had been a little brighter, she might have elevated him to be Rafe's replacement, but his dim-wittedness ruled that out. Nevertheless, he seemed to regard himself as her favorite. He had always been inclined to jealousy, and his fits of temper were violent and notorious among the slaves, but she had never seen him lose his control so completely.

For a moment, her blood and heartbeat quickened. She was being fought over! It was like the old days, when elven lords dueled for the favor of a chosen lady. But that was long ago-long before elves came here, to this world.

How exciting-they were fighting for her'! her'! She didn't know of anyone who'd had men fight over her- She didn't know of anyone who'd had men fight over her- But then, as she took in the damage that had been done so far (two broken chairs, a ruined table, and most of the ornaments smashed), her anger awoke. Laras had broken conditioning and training, and he was in the process of destroying her property. This was not to be tolerated. Even if it had been caused by jealousy over her- She stepped into the room, her power tingling at her fingertips.

"Laras!" she shouted- her hervoice evidently penetrated the fog of rage that enveloped him, and he began to turn. When he saw that it was really her, he started to smile.

She ignored the smile. "You've been a very bad boy, Laras," she said coldly. "I'm going to have to make sure you never do this again."

As Laras winced, and his eyes darted frantically from one corner to the other, looking for a place to hide, she acted. Before she could change her mind, she called combat-fire and burned him to ashes where he stood.

She was merciful. He didn't even have time to scream.

Now, too late to stop the fight, other slaves came running; they arrived at the door just in time to see her punish Laras for his presumption, and most of them shrank back from her as she leveled an angry gaze at them. No one made the mistake of trying to run; that would be tantamount to a confession of guilt. And a suicidal move, given the temper she was in now.