Once his breathing eased, Rezkin rose from his seat and strode over to the pots that held the meal. He examined each one and then turned to the cook. “Who placed the beans on my plate from this pot?”
The cook said, “I did, Your Majesty. Is there a problem with them?”
“No,” said Rezkin. “These are fine. Who entered the kitchen between the time you served the beans and I received my plate?”
“Ah, no one, as far as I’m aware. It’s just us three right now. More are scheduled to arrive soon. If there is a problem with the food, it will be my pleasure to prepare you another.”
Rezkin glanced between the three. One of them could be a Master of Deception, perhaps Adana’Ro or a member of the Order, but it was more likely they were innocent. He pointed to his plate and said, “Burn this.” The man’s face fell. Rezkin did not want to cause a panic, so he said, “This food has been tainted. Do not allow anyone to eat the scraps. The rest should be fine.”
He requested an extra plate of scrambled eggs and then headed toward his chamber, only to be intercepted by another woman. Mage Threll stepped into his path with her arms crossed and chin held high.
“I heard you are leaving tomorrow.” Her body language spoke of determination, but he had no idea what she wanted.
“Yes,” he said.
“I”—she glanced at the plate in his hand—“Am I interrupting your breakfast?”
“No,” he said as he lifted the plate of eggs. “This is not for me.”
“Ah.” She flushed and then cleared her throat as she said, “Do you plan to take my uncle?”
Rezkin had no desire to spend more time with the surly striker, but desire was rarely accommodated by necessity. “I have not decided.”
“I am going,” she said.
He tilted his head. “Why should I take you?”
She inhaled deeply and fisted her hands at her sides then said, “I came with you to Cael because I wanted to be a part of your cause. I believe you are trying to help Ashai, and I think you can pull it off. You need help from others, though. You have only just returned, and you are already leaving tomorrow. Since you are in a hurry, I can be of use. As you know, my affinities are for water and fire. I can fight in battle and make the ship travel faster.”
Rezkin tilted his head. “You are trained to use your powers in battle?”
“Well … no, but fire burns. You do not need much battle training to do damage.”
“What does your uncle have to say about this?”
She pursed her lips. “I am an independent woman. I do not need his approval.”
Rezkin glanced at the plate of scrambled eggs and said, “See Journeyman Wesson. He is overseeing the mage force for the journey.”
Mage Threll’s eyes lit with excitement. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Um, would you like me to reheat those?”
He shook his head. “No, that is not necessary.”
She grimaced, glancing again at the cold eggs, then looked back at him. “About Journeyman Wesson. If you do not mind me asking, why do you not raise him to Mage?”
“It is not my place to do so.”
“You are the king.”
“I am not a mage.” He stepped around her but turned back just as she started down the corridor. “Mage Threll.”
She turned. “Yes?”
“Do you love your uncle?”
She appeared surprised but smiled fondly. “Yes, he is the last of my family.”
Rezkin paused and then said, “You are your uncle’s weakness. If you fall, he will break.”
Nanessy nodded slowly. “I know that you are right. I am one of his weaknesses; but, I believe that you are his other.”
“He knows that I can defeat him.”
She shook her head. “No, that is not what I meant.” She started to say more and then seemed to think better of it. “I had best find Journeyman Wesson.”
Rezkin continued down the corridor and finally made it to his quarters where he bathed and dressed. The cat stared at him as he went about his business, although he was not entirely sure it was just a cat.
He settled on the colorful rug someone had woven from scraps of fabric, crossed his legs, and sank into a meditative trance. He was deep in his memories, searching for information, when he was abruptly assaulted by a furry tail in his face. Cat had crawled onto his lap. It mewed and purred as it rubbed against him. He decided this creature was, in fact, the cat and that it desired to have its fur stroked. He picked it up and held it in front of him so that he could stare into its yellow eyes. It blinked lazily as it continued to purr. He had been told that felines could sense danger, and he wondered why it sensed none in him. Setting the cat down, he returned to his meditation. The little beast curled up between his crossed legs as Rezkin shuffled through the scenes of his past. Something—or someone—was out of place.
When he was satisfied with his conclusion, he donned his armor, secured the Sheyalins at his hips, and strapped the black blade across his back. He collected the plate that been licked clean and returned it to the kitchen. His vassals would have been frustrated with his insistence on performing the mundane tasks of feeding and cleaning up after the cat, but he figured it was his duty, since he had stolen the thing from its home. Even the shielreyah seemed to think it humorous when he had asked them to keep the furry beast out of trouble as it explored the palace. He supposed it did seem like a rather inconsequential task for thousand-year-old dead elves, but it was hardly a burden on them. On the other hand, they seemed incapable of finding the katerghen.
Rezkin turned down a corridor toward the room that had become his office but took only a few steps before he encountered Ilanet, who was accompanied by Xa. He glanced at the assassin suspiciously and then turned to the small-woman.
“Greetings, Princess. Has your escort been with you all morning?”
Ilanet glanced at Xa and said, “Yes, we were visiting the new southern garden. It is beautiful in the early morning light. The ictali are so helpful, now that they are not trying to kill us. They are sweet and kind. I like them very much.” She pulled a letter from her pocket. “I was coming to give you this. It was left by the table in the room I share with Frisha. It has your name on it.”
Rezkin took the missive and examined the outside before opening it. It was a letter from Frisha. He had seen her writing before, and this matched precisely. Still, it was odd that she would send a letter to ask him to meet with her in the garden. He nodded at Xa as he spoke to the princess. “Was he with you when you found this?”
Xa looked at him quizzically and then glanced at the letter with a bit more interest.
“No, he had not come to my room yet,” she said. “We could not find you, so we went to the garden for a while.”
“You are sure he has been with you since then?” This time Xa scowled at him, as if he realized he was being accused of something.
“Yes,” said Ilanet, “since we left my quarters just after dawn.”
Rezkin looked at Xa and said, “Stay with her.”
He turned from his intended destination and headed toward the garden. He had the sense that he was being drawn somewhere, but he could not discount the possibility of paranoia. He had always been sure of himself, but since arriving on Cael, he had begun to see enemies everywhere. He wondered why that would bother him so much. Prior to leaving the fortress, he had assumed that everyone was a potential enemy. What had changed?