Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)

I’m so damned glad I’m not fourteen anymore, Hal thought, looking back from the high ground of seven—no, eighteen. He led the way back and sat on the edge of his bunk, his hands resting on his knees. “What is it you want to know, Lieutenant?” he said.

Karn gazed at Hal a moment, as if he could penetrate all the way to the bone. “You seem to be very hard to kill, Captain,” he said. “My father has some skill at killing, and yet he has tried and failed four or five times that I know of, maybe some others that I missed. I’m wondering if you can explain it.”

Hal couldn’t have said what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. He could feel the pressure of Robert’s stare. “Can I explain why he’s trying to kill me or why he’s failed?”

“My father has never needed much of an excuse to kill people, and I can think of several reasons he’d want to kill you.” Karn shook his head. “No, I’m wondering how you’ve managed to survive this long.”

Hal shrugged. “My luck can’t hold forever.” He gestured, taking in their prison cell. “Obviously.”

“That’s just it,” Karn said. “I think it’s more than luck. For instance, any reasonable person would say that your situation now is hopeless. Yet I have no doubt that you will find a way to survive this, too. I think you must be more clever and resilient than I ever gave you credit for.”

It was an odd sort of compliment. Should I be thanking him? Hal wondered. Or is he flattering me, suggesting that if I turn traitor, he’ll stay the executioner?

When Hal didn’t respond, the spymaster sat up and planted his feet firmly on the floor. “You survived the fall of Delphi, when few of your fellow soldiers did. And now you’ve miraculously escaped and come back to us. Either you are favored by the gods or you have an extraordinary talent. Or is there another explanation?”

Hal was ambushed by a rush of anger. What was he suggesting? That he’d given the city up?

“Is that what this is about? Does the king think I betrayed Delphi to the Fells? Is that the excuse your father is using?” He snorted. “No. I’ve been fighting under the red hawk since I was eleven years old. I’ve been nothing but loyal, and this is how I’m repaid—with suicide missions, assassination attempts, and accusations of treason. No, Lieutenant, I’m not proud of surviving, and I’m not proud of losing. I have been a good soldier—the best I could be—and that is all.” Hal clenched his fists. “So, you tell me—why is your father, my commanding officer, out to get me?”

By now, Robert was staring at him with a mixture of admiration and alarm.

Hal sat back, breathing hard, thinking, This mage is good at what he does. After lecturing Robert, I’ve already said more than I’d planned on.

Karn didn’t seem at all put off by Hal’s heated response. If anything, he seemed amused, almost delighted. “Exactly. I always saw you as more of a hero type than a traitor type.” He leaned in close and said, “My father despises heroes. He thinks that honor is a sign of weakness, and treachery is just another tactic. That’s where you made your mistake.”

Hal and Robert exchanged glances. What was this? Was Karn playing good lieutenant against bad general?

Karn seemed to be waiting for some kind of response. When it didn’t come, he said, “I will concede that you are a hero who knows how to survive. And yet, here you are, walking into a trap. So uncharacteristic. It doesn’t fit together, and when things don’t fit together it makes me curious. This does not come from the king or my father—it comes from me.”

Maybe I’m not as smart as you think I am, Hal thought. But as he looked at Karn, at the eagerness in his eyes, at the intensity in his posture, Hal got the impression that the lieutenant was sending a message that he hoped Hal would hear and respond to. That he was looking for something in him.

An ally?

No. People like him don’t have allies. They have chess pieces they move on the board.

Still. I’ve got nothing to lose, he thought. He and Robert were already prisoners of the crown, subject to execution as traitors and spies. At least he could sieve out some bits of truth that would be harmless to divulge.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Here’s the truth. I am here because I was taken prisoner when Delphi fell. I was in Delphi when I learned about King Gerard’s death. The wolf queen asked me if I thought the death of the king might mean a new relationship between our realms. After twenty-five years of war, that sounded appealing to me.” He looked Karn in the eye. “Does that make me a traitor?”

“Not at all,” Karn said. “You would find many allies on the Thane Council.” He pressed the tips of his fingers together. “You actually spoke to the queen in the north?” Hal noticed that the spymaster did not call her the “witch” or the “demon” or the “harlot,” which was a point in his favor. Or a testament to his ability to play both sides.

“Yes.”

“What is she like?” He took a breath, then added, “More importantly, what does she want?”

“As you can imagine, she is tired of war. She’s suffered many losses. The northerners claim that Arden has been sending assassins into the queendom and murdering people.” He looked into Karn’s eyes. “Is that true?”

Karn didn’t flinch, didn’t deny, didn’t look surprised. “That’s possible,” he said, frowning, “though I don’t have direct knowledge of it, and by all rights, I should.” He paused. “Will she surrender, do you think?”

Hal didn’t hesitate. “She will not surrender. Never. She will fight to her last breath.”

Karn nodded, as if this didn’t surprise him, either. Hal wondered how much of this he already knew through his network of eyes and ears.

“What about King Jarat?” Hal said. “Do you think he would be open to making peace?”

“With the thanes or the queen?”

“Both.” Hal was a little amazed to be sitting in a jail cell in Arden, talking politics with the king’s chief spy and enforcer.

Karn rubbed his chin. “I must say that the queen in the north has made an odd choice of diplomat.”

“I’m not here representing Queen Raisa,” Hal said, his temper rising once more. “I came to the capital to try to keep my brother from getting himself killed or captured.” He could feel the heat of Robert’s glare, and ignored it. “And I came home to make a case for ending the civil war so that we can join with the Fells against a foreign power that threatens both of us.”

“Hold on,” Karn said, shaking his head. “You’ve lost me now. What foreign power?”

“After my capture in Delphi, I was moved to more secure quarters in Chalk Cliffs. I was there when the port was attacked by armies fighting for the empress Celestine, known as the empress in the east.”

Up to then, Karn had displayed the face of a sharp—distant, detached, and all but unreadable. Now Hal saw a flicker of something in those hazel eyes—something that told him that young Karn had heard of the empress, and that this news shook him to his core.

Hal stiffened, his heart thrumming. What did this spymaster know about the empress? Could Arden have instigated this invasion after all? If so, why would Karn be surprised?

It was only a momentary cracking of the fa?ade, and then Karn had his game face back on. “What makes you think that it was the empress who attacked? Were they flying her banner?”

“I wouldn’t recognize her banner if I saw it,” Hal said. “I interrogated one of their pickets. He said they sailed for the empress Celestine. Then, after the city fell, I—”

“Hang on—they’ve taken Chalk Cliffs?” The spymaster’s voice was sharp as a blade.

“Aye,” Hal said. “They did. The northerners never had a chance. The town is in ruins, everyone in it slain or carried off as slaves, unless some were able to escape to the west.”

“And yet you got away?”

“During the confusion, I was able to escape by boat through the water gate with some others.”

“They didn’t have you locked up?” Suspicion glittered in Karn’s eyes once again.

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