“She was the wizard kicked off of the Arcane Assembly last summer.”
Every head turns toward Kain at his revelation. Jaylie never would have thought that the politics of Belandar’s most powerful wizards and sorcerers would be the sort of thing that Kain would keep up with, but he continues to surprise her.
Kain gives a shrug, causing the muscles of his huge shoulders to ripple. “Everyone was gossiping about it. She was using the Assembly’s resources for dark magic. Even my father caught wind of it.” Glancing at Kain’s massive curling devil horns, Jaylie resolves to save her questions about his parentage for later—but she winces as Donati turns a suspicious gaze on him.
Hastily, she speaks up. “Clearly we’re not on any sort of professional or working basis with her.” She clears her throat delicately. “If you like, my lord, my Lady can vouch for me and my companions. She’s gifted me with a spell that has the power to tell truth from lies. I can cast it, if you wish.”
Donati scowls, then shakes his head. “Your offer is enough. I can tell from your blank, foolish stares that you’re not involved with her.”
Morgana’s mouth thins to a grim line, but she says nothing. She looks sidelong to Jaylie.
“Then why all of the dramatics, my lord?” Loren lifts his bound hands toward the wizard. “We failed to protect you and your bride, and for that we are deeply apologetic, but as much as I enjoy being tied up by a pretty woman…this is not the right context, and it’s unnecessary. Allow us to give you your initial deposit back, at the very least.”
“Or allow us to right our wrongs.”
Jaylie feels all eyes swivel to her.
Donati’s lip curls. “You were unable to stop Shira today. What mark of confidence would I have in you to stop her tomorrow? To get Alora back?” His voice cracks on his bride’s name, and Jaylie’s posture softens.
“I don’t like to leave a job unfinished, and I cannot walk away from here in good conscience without doing everything I can to set things right,” she says.
Morgana mutters, “Doubt we’d even beallowedto walk out of here anyway.”
Jaylie coughs once, and Loren jumps in. “Tell us everything you know about Shira and Alora, Professor Donati. Give us context to work with, backstory on the politics at play, motives that she might have for capturing your bride. We came into this job with nothing to work with save for an overarching order to try to prevent any chaos that might ensue. That sort of guidance works fine if we’re simply hired to guard a caravan or patrol a festival, but this plot absolutelyreeksof drama. We’re clearly missing something important.”
Jaylie thinks he should have worked harder to hide his enthusiasm for said drama.
“This was personal, wasn’t it, Donati?” Loren continues in a low voice, leaning forward. “Perhaps if you and Dorna had prepared us better for what might happen, we could have protected your interests more successfully. But there’s still time. Tell us what’s going on. Tell us how we can help. I assure you, we’re of more use to you alive than dead, and you won’t find anyone else with better eyes on this situation than us.”
Jaylie is convinced by Loren’s persuasive words, but Donati’s face is a mask of irritation and deep thought. Jaylie does her best to shift slightly to see her own companions’ expressions: a mix of discomfort, anxiety, and a small amount of fear. No one is enthusiastic to continue working with Donati, but surrounded by the wizard’s personal guard and no other wedding guests—no otherwitnesses—she doesn’t doubt that Donati has the power to make their lives either very difficult or very short if they can’t assure him of their usefulness.
“Keep them here,” Donati orders. “See that they don’t move while I’m gone.” And in a shower of sparks, he suddenly disappears.
Jaylie exhales sharply from her nose. Obediently she stands still, hands folded behind her back as tense silence stills the air. A cheerful songbird sings in one of Donati’s lemon trees, and Jaylieunsuccessfully tries to find some peace in listening to its melody. She can’t lie to herself—she’s scared shitless. She barely knows Donati, and despite his sweet first impression, she’s clearly misread him. He could very well be coming back to kill them, and as one of Belandar’s most powerful mages, he would be able to cover up their disappearances easily enough. Jaylie holds her hands together so tightly behind her back that she thinks her knuckles might crack—until Loren reaches his bound hands forward to lay a soothing palm over her fingers.
Immediately Jaylie’s grip loosens, more from surprise than anything else. But his touch helps ground her, and after a heartbeat of hesitation, she laces her fingers with his. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even use it as an opportunity to make a pass at her. Instead, he just stands with her hand in his, rubbing soothing circles over the inside of her wrist with his thumb. Jaylie concentrates on the motion until Donati reappears in front of them with a sharpcrackof thunder.
Everyone—including his guards—jumps to attention.
“All right,” he snaps, striding forward to stand before the loose semicircle of Jaylie and her companions. “You are all going to get one more chance to make this right. But if you fail meagain,well…” His expression is a storm cloud. “Let’s not find out.”
Loren slides his hand from Jaylie’s and moves to stand at her side. “To do this the right way this time,” he says, “we need to know everything you can tell us about Lady Shira.”
“And as a show of good faith, maybe your man can sheath his sword, aye?” Morgana adds, narrowing her eyes at the half-orc guard with his weapon still outstretched toward her neck. “Took me near seventy years to grow this beard. I’ll lose my shit if he nicks it.”
Donati sneers—and then sighs. “At ease, then.”
The guards lower their weapons and free Loren and Jaylie from their bindings. Half of them head back to their posts in Donati’sestate while the others fan out to observe the group, settling in the pews still arranged for the ceremony.
Donati stands in the shade of the tree, in the same spot where he’d said his vows. His eyes are distant, his hands clasped before him. “Shira and I attended the Arcane Academy together decades ago,” he begins. “We were the best in our class and very, very good friends.”
“Oh?” Jaylie says.Just friends? Or more, perhaps?
Donati gives her a flat stare. “Friends,” he stresses. “Anyway. We were pitted against each other on more than one occasion, but we took it in good humor. As a team, we were the best. The perfect combination. I’m willing to admit that Shira has the kind of intellect that comes naturally with some people. She was a prodigy—effortlessly clever. Where she was all chaos and seat-of-her-pants innovation, I was…studious. Organized. I stayed up for hours memorizing concepts that came to her readily after only one lesson. She could conjure a bonfire with a mere thought, while I had to inscribe the spell over and over again in my spellbook before I got it right. But she inspired me to be experimental, while I kept her on track and punctual. Together, we were unstoppable.”
Loren rocks back on his heels, close enough to Jaylie to murmur, “All of this chemistry, and you’re telling me theydidn’tfuck?”
Morgana clears her throat. “I don’t think he’s her type,” she says dryly. Jaylie jumps at the sound of the dwarf’s voice; she hadn’t noticed her sneak up to stand at her hip.
