MindSighted: BlackWing Pirates, Book 1 Read online

  MindSighted

  BlackWing Pirates, Book 1

  Connie Suttle

  SubtleDemon Publishing, LLC

  Contents

  1. Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Other books by Connie Suttle:

  2. Chapter 1

  3. Chapter 2

  4. Chapter 3

  5. Chapter 4

  6. Chapter 5

  7. Chapter 6

  8. Chapter 7

  9. Chapter 8

  10. Chapter 9

  11. Chapter 10

  12. Chapter 11

  13. Chapter 12

  14. Chapter 13

  15. Chapter 14

  16. Chapter 15

  17. Chapter 16

  18. Chapter 17

  19. Chapter 18

  20. Chapter 19

  Dedication

  To Walter, Joe, Sarah, Larry, Lee, Dianne and Mark.

  Thank you.

  Copyright (c) 2016 Connie Suttle

  All rights reserved

  ISBN-10: 1-63478-001-9

  ISBN-13: 978-1-63478-001-8

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, incidents and characters are a product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Renee Barratt @ The Cover Counts

  Acknowledgements

  As always, this book is the result of collaboration. If it weren't for the support of my editor, my cover artist and my beta readers, it would be less than it is. All mistakes, as usual, are mine and no other's.

  About the Author

  Connie Suttle lives in Oklahoma with her husband and a conglomerate of cats. Those felonious felines have finally banded together to steal earbuds, rubber bands and other vital necessities, and have gotten into the habit of holding those things ransom in exchange for treats.*

  *Lawyers may have been hired.

  @subtledemon

  Connie Suttle Author

  www.subtledemon.com

  Other books by Connie Suttle:

  Blood Destiny Series:

  Blood Wager

  Blood Passage

  Blood Sense

  Blood Domination

  Blood Royal

  Blood Queen

  Blood Rebellion

  Blood War

  Blood Redemption

  Blood Reunion

  Legend of the Ir'Indicti Series:

  Bumble

  Shadowed

  Target

  Vendetta

  Destroyer

  High Demon Series:

  Demon Lost

  Demon Revealed

  Demon's King

  Demon's Quest

  Demon's Revenge

  Demon's Dream

  God Wars Series:

  Blood Double

  Blood Trouble

  Blood Revolution

  Blood Love

  Blood Finale

  Saa Thalarr Series:

  Hope and Vengeance

  Wyvern and Company

  Observe and Protect*

  First Ordinance Series:

  Finder

  Keeper

  BlackWing

  SpellBreaker

  WhiteWing

  R-D Series:

  Cloud Dust

  Cloud Invasion

  Cloud Rebel

  Latter Day Demons Series:

  Hot Demon in the City

  A Demon's Work is Never Done

  A Demon's Due

  Seattle Elementals Series:

  Your Money's Worth

  Worth Your While*

  BlackWing Pirates Series

  MindSighted

  MindMage*

  Other Titles from SubtleDemon Publishing:

  Malefactor

  by Joe Scholes

  *Forthcoming

  Chapter 1

  Prince Amlis' Castle, New Fyris

  Randl Gage

  "Randl, I've scheduled a council meeting tomorrow morning," Prince Amlis walked into my office. Another set of steps accompanied his—that of Amlis' guard and constant companion, Rodrik.

  "I will be there," I announced as the image of Amlis formed in my mind, followed by that of Rodrik.

  "This will be our first Combined Alliance Conclave, and the Grand Master will attend our council meeting tomorrow. Since he and I are expected to represent Harifa Edus, I trust you will inform me if he holds anything back that concerns New Fyris, or presents us in an unflattering light?" Amlis asked.

  "As always, my Prince."

  "Good. Thank you."

  My official title was assistant to Prince Amlis. My unofficial work for the Prince of New Fyris was to tell him whenever something wasn't brought to light because someone didn't wish to tell him. Mostly, those things were unimportant to him and only served to cause bad feelings between the Prince of New Fyris and those who served on his council.

  I disliked this addition to my duties.

  Very much.

  I suppose I should be grateful that a Prince would hire a blind man as his assistant—I doubted many royals would consider hiring someone like me at all.

  My sight—or the physical lack of it, doesn't allow for the efficient reading of paper books or messages on comp-vids. When I place my hands on the device or physical pages, it takes several seconds for my mental vision to show me what's there.

  That delay is a decided disadvantage, compared to listening to spoken words or hearing messages through a comp-vid. Most people can read much faster than the time it takes to speak the words.

  I'd been shown a third system of reading—through raised dots on paper or other surfaces, but the spoken words settled into my mind easier.

  A physician said it was because I'd depended upon hearing all of my life, and that my hearing was sharper because of it.

  He'd also offered to replace my useless eyes with electronic ones.

  I declined.

  Somehow, I knew that my sightless, white eyes were a part of the gift I carried—the gift of seeing things others couldn't, and often predicting the future with great accuracy.

  The mental visions are somewhat delayed—like soil that has been dry too long and is now cracked with thirst, yet unable to swallow water immediately.

  Often, too, I wished for another job. Serving Amlis had become a terrible chore and one I disliked more every day. Few employers would consider a blind worker, no matter how good he might be—and especially since my blindness appeared to be a matter of choice.

  I'd already decided not to reveal to a new employer my talent for detecting the animosity or ill-feelings of others toward him or her—my experience with Amlis proved that to be an unworthy endeavor.

  I also knew that were I to tell Amlis that I wanted to work elsewhere, he would offer more money to keep me where I was.

  I didn't want that.

  Truthfully, I felt as if I'd contributed to Amlis' paranoia, simply by answering his questions. If I left, perhaps he'd gain a healthier perspective on things.

  For six years after my schooling was over, I'd worked for Amlis as his assistant. My father, Brandl, also works for Amlis, and is in charge of castle schedules and maintenance. I worry that he'll lose his work if I were to leave New Fyris with little notice.

  The Prince would deny any thought of pettiness in releasing my father, but he would desire revenge anyway, were I to take employment elsewhere.

  In other words, I'd become Amlis' crutch, and he'd treat my father differently if I were to leave voluntarily. I could see that in Amlis as easily as I could see my father's image in the mornings,
it had become so familiar.

  Amlis wasn't a bad man—far from it. I'd merely made the mistake of expanding his insecurities with my visions.

  "I'll have someone vid-record the meeting," Rodrik said as the Prince left my office.

  "Thank you, Rodrik," I dipped my head. Rodrik wasn't only Amlis' bodyguard, he was also his cousin and first in line for the throne, should Amlis die without an heir. And, as Amlis hadn't married, there was no heir on the horizon for him.

  Rodrik ignored his position as heir most of the time. He had no desire for the ornate chair Amlis occupied. I was grateful for it, too, as Amlis had asked me about that very thing only recently.

  With a sigh, I turned my thoughts to the meeting the following day. I'd never met the new Grand Master for the werewolves of Harifa Edus; therefore, tomorrow would be a learning experience for me.

  Queen's Palace, Le-Ath Veronis

  Winkler

  "Lukas asked me to attend Conclave with him," I said.

  Lissa turned to look at me while putting earrings in her ears. It didn't matter how many times I'd watched her dress, it always made my blood heat. I wanted to take her straight back to bed, but she had a Council meeting scheduled.

  "I have plenty going with me already," Lissa said. "You can act as an advisor for him if you want."

  Lukas was Grand Master for the werewolves of Harifa Edus—for barely six months. He was as tough and as fair as they came. In fact, he reminded me of a young Weldon Harper, but I hadn't told Weldon that.

  Yet.

  Lukas needed experienced advisors around him, and those who'd served the previous Grand Master weren't the most reliable, since Lukas had taken that position.

  The Grand Master's position now required votes instead of fights to the death; it was a requirement for admission into the Reth Alliance. Lukas had won the loyalty of most of the werewolf population; just not those who'd served the previous administration.

  "I heard Lukas was meeting with Amlis for the first time tomorrow," Lissa said.

  "I heard that, too."

  "Because he asked you to come, didn't he? Are you going?"

  "Thinking about it."

  "Good. He should have cleaned house the minute he walked into that position, but he didn't. He needs a steady hand on his shoulder and a strong arm to back him up," she said, turning back to the mirror so she could position the tiara on her head.

  I hid a smile; she hated that thing.

  "Strong and steady, that's me," I said.

  "Stop grinning and let's get to the meeting," she said.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Don't ma'am me, fur-butt."

  "Don't call me fur-butt, queenie-pants."

  She snickered as she walked toward the door. I followed, holding back a laugh.

  Amlis' Castle, New Fyris

  Randl

  "Pap, I don't know what to do," I admitted as I settled on a chair across the table from his. "Amlis wants me to tell him everybody's secrets, and I dislike that."

  "And the new Grand Master will be here tomorrow," Pap guessed.

  "Yes." I allowed my shoulders to slump.

  "I wouldn't have taken him for someone who could become so paranoid," Pap said and dipped into his bowl of stew.

  "I'm partly responsible," I admitted.

  "Boy, you can't take the blame for everybody's weaknesses," Pap said. I envisioned him pointing his spoon at me. A few seconds later, the actual image lodged in my mind. I wanted to smile; instead, I began to eat while Pap talked.

  "Amlis has access to grants and such from the Founder, but he doesn't take advantage of them. Some of his people are still depending on horses for transportation and to do their farming. He has technology freely available, and he's stuck in the before-times." Pap breathed a snort; I did smile, this time.

  "Some of the crops grown here," Pap went on, "aren't available anywhere else. He could use that technology to farm those fruits and vegetables that used to grow solely on Siriaa, and sell them to Alliance buyers."

  "In other words, he needs to get with the program?" I repeated a favorite phrase I'd learned from my tutor, Master Morwin. Someone had seen to it that he'd be the one to teach me, rather than the New Fyrian schools for other, sighted children.

  I heard Morwin was on Avendor, now, teaching new younglings. I wished him well.

  "Amlis has become so complacent—expecting you to tell him everything while everyone else does his work for him," Pap complained.

  I didn't disagree—Amlis' army was headed by two captains provided by the Alliance, so the troops would be trained properly according to Alliance guidelines. New Fyris ran smoothly as a result. I sighed.

  "Randl, I know you want to work elsewhere. You should have that opportunity. Don't worry about me—I can find other work if it comes down to it."

  "But you like your job," I began.

  "And I can like a similar job elsewhere. I went through the classes, too. I have an Alliance certified education—just not nearly as extensive as yours. By choice."

  "I just feel the situation is getting more toxic, the longer I stay," I sighed.

  "I know. Son, you have to think about yourself, now, and not a dependent Prince or your pap, who can fend for himself."

  "I just want tomorrow to be over," I said. "Amlis is worried about the new Grand Master. He was familiar with the old one, at least, even if he wasn't the best choice for his people."

  "Then we'll hope the new one can settle Amlis' worries right away, since they'll be going to Conclave together."

  BlackWing X

  Travis Tetsuya

  We were lucky to have Terrett on board with us on this flight to Pyrik. We'd found a smuggler's ship haunting the shipping lanes there, when it should have been aiming for its destination as fast as it could fly.

  As it turns out, they were waiting for a passenger—who'd be smuggled to Pyrik, along with a load of designer drugs and counterfeit jewelry. Trent and I wouldn't have been so concerned if Pyrik wasn't the chosen location for the upcoming Combined Alliance Conclave.

  Somebody wanted to make money off the massive meeting, whether it was selling to tourists, media, hangers-on or world leaders.

  "Bro, you think we ought to back off and wait for the passenger?" Trent asked.

  "Want to ask Mom, Ry or Gav?" I countered. "Terrett couldn't get anything from the crew—they don't know who this guy is, either."

  "Or why he wants to go to Pyrik," Trent finished my thought for me.

  "What will it hurt to stay here for a little while?" Jayna came to join us. "If he's nothing more than a nut job who can't get there through normal channels, we can send him back where he came from. If he's something more than that," she shrugged.

  "We let Kooper have him," Trent and I chorused.

  "Just what I was thinking," Jayna grinned.

  "Terrett," I said. "Let's let these guys believe we were never here, and wait for their passenger."

  Terrett, who stood in the hold of the pirate ship, watching the pirate crew while the rest of us discussed their disposition, turned in my direction. With a nod, he went back to his docile, captive pirates and began to place obsessions.

  Avii Castle, Le-Ath Veronis

  Quin

  I'd just returned to Le-Ath Veronis after spending two months on Avendor. Wisdom and Strength had made the suggestion several years ago to leave a replica of Avii Castle at SouthStar, and place the real one where it had been before on Le-Ath Veronis. The real thing was impervious to damage; the duplicate sat in the safest place imaginable and wasn't in danger of attack.

  Justis' and my daughter, Jerra, was now fourteen and deep in her studies with Master Morwin at SouthStar. I stayed with her much of the time, and she visited her father often on Le-Ath Veronis.

  Father and daughter had a strong bond; Justis doted on her and smiled when she stretched her white-tipped red wings and flew with him over SouthStar's groves.

  "We just received this transmission from Queen Lissa," Dena, wh
o now worked as my personal bodyguard, brought a comp-vid to me.

  "What is it?" I asked, taking the comp-vid from her hand.

  "Somebody she wants you to look at," Dena shrugged.

  "No doubt," I said dryly, after seeing the image on the comp-vid. "Does Lissa know he holds an obsession?"

  "I think she's puzzled by that," Dena acknowledged. "Terrett says the same thing."

  "Remind me to have a conversation with my Sirenali," I shook my head. "He could have sent mindspeech."

  "Maybe he didn't want to skew whatever you might see in this one," Dena suggested.

  "Possibly," I agreed and went back to the image. "He's so heavily obsessed, I can't even get his name," I frowned. "Have they checked his prints and everything else?"

  "The records indicate he's a dead man," Lissa folded into my study. "As in doornail dead. He no longer recognizes the name he was born with, either. Says his name is Vrak, no last name given."

  "And no idea what the obsession is, I suppose?" I handed the comp-vid back to Dena.

  "None," Lissa said. "He arranged for passage through a third party, to be smuggled onto Pyrik. We've already gone looking for that third party; he was found dead on Veechee. We wouldn't have had his name except the smugglers knew it and had taken bookings through him before."

  "That doesn't sound good," Dena said. "You think this Vrak killed the one on Veechee after arranging the trip?"

  "Kooper doesn't think so—the murder was too recent—as in the body was still warm when they got there, and Vrak was already aboard the ship."

  "Then Vrak may have allies," I said.

  "Just what I was thinking," Lissa agreed. "We now have a choice—whether to lock Vrak up or let him out on Pyrik and have him followed. Frankly, I'm concerned about that second option."