SpellBreaker: First Ordinance, Book 4 Read online

  SpellBreaker

  First Ordinance, Book 4

  Connie Suttle

  SubtleDemon Publishing, LLC

  Copyright (c) 2015 Connie Suttle All rights reserved.

  Published by:

  SubtleDemon Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 95696

  Oklahoma City, OK 73143

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

  eISBN: 9781939759351

  To Walter, Joe, Dianne, Renee, Sarah, Larry Lee and Mark. You are all awesome.

  And for Debra, who has inspired me.

  Thank You.

  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 The Suttle Cat Sovereignty. They have finally banded together to make their demands, which has proven disconcerting to all humans involved.

  You may find Connie in the following ways:

  Facebook: Connie Suttle Author

  Twitter: @subtledemon

  Website and Blog: 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

  * * *

  First Ordinance Series:

  Finder

  Keeper

  BlackWing

  SpellBreaker

  * * *

  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*

  * * *

  Seattle Elementals Series:

  Your Money's Worth*

  *Forthcoming

  Contents

  To Walter, Joe, Dianne, Renee, Sarah, Larry Lee and Mark. You are all awesome.

  Acknowledgements

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  Chapter 1

  Avii Castle

  Quin

  There is a song the fierce winds sing as they whip and curve about Avii Castle. I heard its music as I stood on the terrace outside Gurnil's Library, while rain blew into my face and dripped from my hair.

  I watched as Commander Ardis drilled his troops in swift, aerial eddies while tourists on three boats observed from the waters below.

  Even to someone who'd witnessed the drills many times, the synchronized flight of the Black Wing army was still a marvel to see.

  "Quin, why are you standing here in the rain?" Gurnil stopped beside me. I wore no coat or cloak; he was wrapped in heavy wool against the weather, his blue wings covered by damp, gray cloth.

  My hesitation to answer made him breathe a troubled sigh. The past six months on Le-Ath Veronis were a gift. Nothing had demanded my attention, other than my training sessions and those who'd chosen me as their mate. I'd spent the previous night with Bel Erland, who'd had to leave quite early to attend court with his father, the King of Karathia.

  If Justis knew I stood on the Library terrace with only Gurnil to accompany me, he'd demand that I have breakfast with him. It would be a sly way to inform me that I shouldn't go about without a guard nearby. For that reason, I hesitated to tell him that something seemed amiss—that those who'd taken Vardil Cayetes' body now troubled my dreams and waking thoughts.

  * * *

  Le-Ath Veronis

  Lissa

  Erland was correct—I needed wine and his steady hand around mine to hear my grandfather's story.

  Wylend Arden, King of Karathia for more than twenty-thousand years, had quite a story to tell.

  "It began like this," he said, his smile slightly crooked as he lifted his cup of wine to me. "I had an older brother, born to one of my father's legitimate mates. His name was Wellend and he was heir to the Karathian throne. On his sixteenth birthday, my father gifted him with the Heir's ring, as was proper. For nearly six thousand years, he stood beside my father as an advisor. He was with Father the day the coup was launched, but managed to get away. Some say he ran at the first sign of violence, but I wasn't there and can't verify anything."

  "Where were you?" I asked.

  "I was second-in-line to the throne, so I was at the summer palace," my grandfather shrugged. "It's where I was most of the time, unless Father summoned me. Erland was with me," he nodded to Erland.

  "So the coup happened and Wellend got away. Then what?" I asked.

  "Erland and I spent several days looking for Wellend. We wanted to attack those who'd killed my parents, but Wellend was the reigning King at that point. We had to find him first."

  "Did you find him?"

  "He was cowering in the library of the Queen's Palace, where his mother lived," Erland muttered.

  "So your mother—my great-grandmother, died with my great-grandfather, then?" I turned back to Wylend.

  "Yes. Helsa, Wellend's mother, seldom stayed at the palace—by her choice. When we arrived at the Queen's Palace, we asked Wellend to join us in our attempt to take back the throne. He wanted no part of it, but didn't stand in our way, either. I told him he wasn't safe where he was—if we could find him, so could the enemy. Still, he refused to fight with us. We left him there, gathered those about us still loyal to my father and attacked the palace. Eventually we took it back, but there were devastating losses on both sides."

  "What about Wellend?"

  "The enemies of the throne found him," Erland explained. "Before we could send some of ours to protect him, he died. The Heir's ring was taken from his finger and nobody knew what happened to it. I always assumed the enemy took it and destroyed the thing."

  "Why is it so important?" I asked.

  "Because if it is placed on the hand of one who isn't the heir, it disappears and finds its way to the real heir. It did not find its way to me or to our younger brother, Wallend."

  "What happened t
o Wallend?" I was surprised to hear that I had great-uncles to begin with.

  "Got drunk and died in a fight with another warlock, after claiming he was the rightful heir to the throne."

  "Are there any other family members you haven't told me about?"

  "Other than Wallend's line, including Daris and Deris, that's it."

  "So Wallend was married? What about Wellend?"

  "Wellend's two wives had no children by him," Wylend shrugged. "Wallend's wife became pregnant right away—with his twins. Why they consider themselves heirs instead of me, I'll never know."

  "Did Wellend and Wallend have the same mother?" I asked.

  "Bingo," Erland tapped his nose. "Helsa was quite the shrew, too."

  "I can't believe they wouldn't fight beside you," I huffed. "What kind of warlocks were they?"

  "Weak ones," Erland sipped his wine. "Wellend was barely Third-level. Wallend much the same. Warlend, their father, ignored it when Wylend surpassed both."

  "What is Deris and Daris' level, then?" I asked.

  "Deris, a low Five. Daris, a strong Four. Both surpass their sire," my father said. "I imagine they received their talent from their mother—Valia's line contained many powerful warlocks and witches."

  "Strong enough to cause a lot of trouble, then."

  "More than strong enough," Erland agreed.

  "Is their mother still alive? What about Wellend's wife?" I asked.

  "Valia, the twins' mother and Wallend's only wife, died protecting her husband and children from an attack, if reports are correct," Erland said. "Wellend's first wife, Palia, died in the attack that killed her husband. His second wife, Titia, remarried into another line and has great-grandchildren now. She is no threat to us. Helsa, Wallend and Wellend's mother, survived, only to die a short time later."

  "What happened to her, then?" I asked.

  "She perished in an unusual accident—according to rumor. I never saw the body. Those who found her say it was a spell gone wrong. It destroyed her." Wylend shook his head. "If she were alive, I'd be talking to her, now, asking what put it in her twin grandchildren's heads that they're heirs to the throne of Karathia."

  * * *

  King's Palace

  Karathia

  Bel Erland

  "Glad that's over," I said, flopping onto a sofa in Dad's suite. Court had taken twice as long as it should have, which was actually a good thing—most court days took three or four times as long as they should.

  "It was a short docket," Dad grinned before Pulling in a bottle of wine and popping the cork. "Want some?"

  "Yeah."

  He poured two glasses after Pulling those in as well. The kitchen staff was used to things appearing and disappearing—the place was spelled not to allow anything off the shelf if the taker weren't authorized.

  It worked very well—for the most part. Occasionally we'd hear from the head cook if we'd taken something he needed to prepare a meal, but after a while, he'd calm down again. Usually after Dad sent him his favorite sparkling wine and a basket of gishi fruit.

  "My King," Corolan poked his head in the door. "We have the prospective guards outside, and after that, the assistant cooks the head cook sent for your consideration."

  "Prospective guards?" I lifted an eyebrow at Dad.

  "Yes," he shrugged. "You know very well that you and Quin are in need of guards."

  "Quin won't like it," I said. "She likes her alone time." I felt the same and didn't appreciate being broadsided like this, but managed to keep my complaints in check.

  "She can have her alone time, as long as there's a guard or two within shouting distance. This is my future daughter-in-law," Dad argued. "She'll be a target for our not-so-law-abiding relatives, since they're still out there, somewhere. We've seen already that they're not opposed to black wizardry to get what they want. We can't say what they'll cook up next, either. Quin—I don't want her hurt."

  "Or me, either," I said. I could see it in his eyes—he worried they'd come after me. If they eliminated all others in line for the throne—I realized I didn't want to consider what could happen after that. Still, I didn't like being cornered and forced to accept someone Dad chose for us.

  "That's why I had to exert so much pressure to bring one of these guards to the palace," Dad added. His eyes twinkled for a moment.

  "You didn't," I said, squeezing my wineglass so hard it snapped in my hand. Dad waved his free hand and put it back together before a single drop of wine hit the carpet at my feet.

  Feeling embarrassed, I gripped the wineglass as it hung in the air before me.

  "I did," Dad said, continuing his conversation. "I had to wave the royal arm to do it, but he's here."

  "You know—this could work," I said after thinking about it for a moment. "Ilya Ironsmith is just as private and closed-mouthed as Quin ever was."

  "Falchani-trained—with blades and hand-to-hand, in addition to being a strong, Fifth-level warlock. I doubt many could stand against him," Dad said. "I want you to choose one more guard—one you think Quin will accept."

  "That may be tougher than you think," I snorted. "Corolan, send them in. I'll take a look and ask questions. Lots of questions."

  * * *

  King's Palace—Karathia

  Zaria

  I waited in line with the rest of the prospective assistant cooks. I'd been wandering aimlessly about for more than six moon-turns, but as most planets had a variation in the number of days that actually was, I didn't bother making an attempt to sort out exactly how much time had passed.

  It was time to take a job and settle myself. I could cook and this was a good way to get to the palace. With forged paperwork in hand, proclaiming me a strong Third-level witch, I imagined that I'd have just as good a chance as any other.

  After all, the head cook had been pleased with my cooking skills in the kitchen; I merely had to pass the inspection of King Rylend Morphis and his son, Prince Bel Erland.

  That's when I saw him, waiting in a separate line ahead of mine. He never looked back, either, standing solid and patient until called into the King's presence.

  By the time I could get my breath back, he'd disappeared into the King's private study.

  WhatshouldIdo? WhatshouldIdo?

  With my heart squeezing in my chest, I worked desperately to calm down before my group of assistant cooks was called in to see the King.

  * * *

  Bel Erland

  "Ironsmith. That's the only one I'll accept," I said. "The rest—completely unsuitable," I added after Dad dismissed the last of the prospective guards. I didn't like any of them, and Quin certainly wouldn't like any of them.

  "Then I expect you to find another guard—one I find suitable, before you go back to Avii Castle," Dad snapped. "Corolan, bring in the assistant cooks."

  I wanted to argue with my father, but he'd outmaneuvered me by calling in the next round of potential servants. Silently fuming, I stood beside Dad's desk as seven walked in. Four witches, three warlocks. I scanned the paper list that lay on Dad's desk and noticed there was nothing there above Third-level. Most were Ones and Twos.

  A glass paperweight held the list down on the desk. It was clear—the glass—and contained a real dragonfly, its body an usual, deep red, its wings perfect and outspread. The paperweight was a gift from Uncles Drake and Drew, when Dad took the Karathian throne.

  Dad was quite fond of the bauble. I lifted it off the paper and hefted it in my palm. Heavy, too, I noticed.

  "Heads up," I shouted and threw the paperweight as hard as I could toward the waiting seven. Yes, I admit I was pissed at Dad, and fully intended to halt the paperweight before it actually hit anything—or anybody.

  Before I could produce the spell (which only took a fraction of a second), the paperweight was halted in midair by one of the assistant cooks while the others cringed. She stepped forward, plucked the paperweight out of the air and brought it to me.

  It was set on Dad's desk with a firm thump.

/>   "That was unnecessary," she hissed at me. "A Fifth-level, tossing shit at his underlings? Really?"

  I gazed into bright-blue eyes that blazed with anger. She shoved a swath of black hair away from her face as she continued to glare at me.

  "You're hired," I blurted. "As a bodyguard for my intended."

  * * *

  Ilya

  "Ironsmith, this is Zaria Keppler," the Prince introduced the woman to me. "She will be the second guard," he added.

  I looked her up and down before coming back to the Prince.

  Had he hired her for her looks? That was my first concern. She wasn't even dressed as a guard. She wore black, loose pants and a white, double-breasted, long-sleeved shirt, which would look better in a kitchen.

  It hit me, then. The cook's assistants had lined up behind the guards. This woman was one of them. The Prince did hire her for her looks. I refused to acknowledge her and turned my gaze away from both.

  "Well, you'll get to know one another after a while," the Prince said uncomfortably. "You're both going with me tomorrow morning to Le-Ath Veronis. I'll arrange for you to meet Quin at my grandmother's palace. Pack your things tonight and be ready to go at six bells."

  * * *

  Avii Castle

  Quin

  Justis went with me to Queen Lissa's palace; Bel Erland said he wanted to meet us there for breakfast with his grandmother. I imagined there was more information coming, but I didn't say it when he sent mindspeech.

  Whatever it was, he wanted it to remain secret until he could tell me when we were alone. I understood that. Drake and Drew arrived in Justis' suite to transport us; Justis ran a hand down my feathers, which were still as black as his once were, then nodded to the Falchani twins that we were ready to go.

  Bel Erland and Queen Lissa were there to greet us, but standing behind Bel were two others. I read the first one—the man. He was trained extensively as a bodyguard. The other? I couldn't read her.

  That made me blink stupidly for a moment. I turned back to the man and read in him that he thought her weak and ineffective as a bodyguard, as she'd been a prospective cook's assistant before Bel hired her.

  I then turned to Bel and saw what he'd seen—that he'd launched a heavy paperweight at her and the other cook's assistants, and she'd stopped it in midair before he could. The other six had cowered away from Bel's anger.