Lady Firel Mantane was the head of the royal spy network. Elara knew this, not because she was a princess, but because her father had authorised her to receive direct reports when they were investigating the murder of her husband. That access had never been withdrawn, exactly, but it had been understood, once the incident had become officially closed, that Elara had no reason to consult with the spymistress.

  Princess Elara, though, had never considered the matter resolved, so she had kept meeting with Lady Mantane even as the investigation came to a close.

  Elara had never known why Lady Mantane permitted the relationship to continue. While the noblewoman could hardly refuse to meet with a princess, she could have raised the matter with Elara’s father. Or threatened to. Against the needs of the kingdom, Elara’s privileges were a secondary concern.

  Lady Mantane had never done that, and Elara could only speculate as to why. She knew better than to ask, as she had seen firsthand how easily and credibly the spymistress could lie. Elara’s best guess was that Lady Mantane saw her as a conduit to the Empire. Lady Mantane could pass carefully crafted nuggets of information her way and receive tidbits from the Empire in return.

  Elara didn’t exactly enjoy being an intelligence asset for two nations, but sometimes the information being passed was of value to her.

  “I received a letter from my brother yesterday,” she said over her teacup. Left unsaid was that she was speaking of her brother-in-law. Prince Driecht hardly had cause to write to her when they met so often in the palace.

  Elara had never met Prince Mazir, but he had started regularly corresponding with her after her husband died. Elara had received some support from the Tiatian Embassy, but it was Amastan’s brother who had offered reassurances that the Tiatian Empire still valued the bond that she had forged.

  “How interesting,” Lady Mantane said, in a tone that suggested it was anything but. Speaking calmly and naturally, as if she were commenting on a subtle nuance of the flavour of her tea, she continued. “I happened to hear some news from the lower city.”

  Is this a trade? Elara wondered. Could she simply ask to hear the news without supplying any information of her own? If Lady Mantane refused, could she insist? Elara didn’t know. There might be consequences. Future meetings might no longer be accommodated. Elara hadn’t fallen into this role willingly, and she’d never been told all of the rules.

  Still, she wasn’t ready to rock the boat just yet, so she followed her script.

  “He warned me that the Elitrans are readying their navy for an expeditionary force, larger than the normal raids.”

  Elara thought that Lady Mantane’s lips thinned just a little. Her eyes might have glittered a little more keenly. Her voice remained unchanged.

  “I see. That is concerning. Did your brother say where this force might be headed?”

  “Maps of Zamarra have been called for in multiple naval commanderies,” Elara said. “Tiatian intelligence hasn’t been able to intercept any orders, but that detail is suggestive.”

  How useful those maps would be was anyone’s guess. The Elitran Empire could be assumed to have detailed maps of Zamarra’s coast, but inland must be something of a mystery. Merchants did travel through both nations, but merchants considered their trade routes privileged information and were not above getting paid to provide false maps.

  “Suggestive indeed.” Lady Mantane’s voice remained light, but the slightest of frowns creased her brow. She waited a moment to see if Elara had anything else to offer before sighing and reciprocating with her own news.

  “The Adventurers Guild’s schedule for our local dungeon has been superseded,” she said. “The Wizard’s Guild is sending an expedition down tomorrow. A large one.”

  “Don’t they perform regular inspections?” Elara asked.

  “They normally send a small group to follow a regular adventuring party,” Lady Mantane said. “Ideally, one that is expected to make it to the lower levels. This time, the group is larger, it travels alone and…”

  She paused for effect.

  “It includes Archmagus Teleran Vaust.”

  “That is surprising,” Elara said, doing her best to mimic the spymistress’s calm. “I had heard that he hadn’t left his chambers in five years.”

  “That is an exaggeration,” Lady Mantane said. “He meets with the King on occasion. But he rarely steps outside of the Guild.”

  “I wonder what could be so important to cause him to go delving? He’s hardly a young man.”

  Lady Mantane stared at Elara a little more intently. She was no doubt thinking that Elara knew what was so important, as Elara had asked her to look out for the Guild’s next move. But Elara only knew what Lord Nos had told her, that the Guild might move against the dungeon.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Doesn’t the Guild keep the King informed about their activities?” she asked instead. They were supposed to.

  “That is how we know the composition of the expedition. Its purpose was declared to be routine maintenance, which can hardly be credited as a full explanation.”

  “Father didn’t press for further details?”

  “Archmagus Vaust claimed to be busy with preparations for the expedition and begged leave to delay an audience until after he returned.”

  Elara sipped her tea to give her time to think. Urgent preparations gave the lie to routine maintenance being the true purpose, which made her wonder why they even tried. Then again, the archmagus was of sufficient importance that he could keep the King waiting, if only for a while.

  “I’m at a loss as to why the archmagus would act like that,” she told the spymistress. “But then, I’m not privy to the relationship he holds with my father.”

  Lady Mantane should have a better idea of that than Elara could.

  “Mmn,” Lady Mantane agreed. “But your highness has been getting information from somewhere, yes?”

  Elara gave a small smile and prepared herself to evade a series of penetrating questions.

  When she got back to the residence, her majordomo was waiting for her, wearing his “pained forbearance” expression.

  “Out with it, Riham,” Elara said impatiently. “What’s gone wrong?”

  “Nothing wrong, my lady,” he said with just a hint of distaste. “Master Zaphar has returned.”

  “That’s good news,” she declared. It might explain his distaste. Riham was not fond of Elitrans, but she hadn’t noticed him holding resentment against this particular one. “Did he make it in unnoticed?”

  “Our guards reported no disturbances,” Riham admitted. “He was found by the cleaning maid, bleeding and unconscious, on the floor of the room assigned to him.”

  “Oh. Did he leave a trail?”

  “Not that we could find on the grounds,” Riham said sourly. “It would seem that he saved all his blood for our rugs.”

  Elara was starting to suspect what her majordomo was mad about. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” she said. “He must have been at the edge of his endurance if he collapsed on the floor.”

  “Even so, my lady. We treated his wounds and cleaned him. He had a… smell to him. He’s resting comfortably now. Shall I have him awoken?”

  “No, let him sleep for now.” She had the feeling that Riham had a bucket of ice water waiting for when he needed to wake the poor thief. “Let me know when he does wake up. I have some matters to attend to before I speak to him.”

  Zaphar didn’t sleep for very long. None of his wounds were serious, so she had him get dressed and meet her in the sunroom, over a meal. Zaphar devoured the simple breakfast fare as if he hadn’t eaten for a week, barely sparing the time to offer the polite pleasantries she had taught him.

  She waited patiently for him to come up for air. Eventually, he recovered enough to glower at her.

  “I hate this town,” he said. “Everyone in it is trying to kill me.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” Elara said with an amused smile. “Most of them don’t know you exist.”

  “Doesn’t matter, they’re still trying to kill me.”

  “Well, you’d know better than me, I suppose. Still, I’m not clear on how people factored into the job you were on. It was supposed to be a simple burglary.”

  Zaphar nodded. “It was hardly that,” he said. “But still. There was someone else watching the house.”

  “I see. That might have been cause to abandon the job, but I know that wasn’t what happened.”

  “Yeah,” Zaphar said sadly. He grimaced at the memory. “That wasn’t what happened. Maybe watching was the wrong word. She’d gone in before I arrived and got stuck in one of the traps in there. Said she’d been stuck in there for most of a day.”

  “Non-lethal traps?” Elara asked. “That’s rare.”

  “I guess they don’t want trouble from the law in town,” Zaphar said, shrugging. “They’re adventurers and all, but they can’t just pile up dead bodies like a dungeon.”

  “I suppose. But if this girl was already trapped, then why did you have to interact with her? Surely with the trap sprung, the way was clear for you to proceed?”

  “Wasn’t the only trap,” Zaphar said. “But more than that, she had the key to the inner ward.”

  “It was warded?” Elara asked incredulously. Wards were expensive. They only lasted a month, or a year if you were willing to pay twenty times as much, and they needed a wizard to redo them when they expired. Even the palace only had a few of the most secure areas warded. But then…

  “Why did you care about a ward?” she asked. “Even if it alerted someone, the Stormguard are dead or imprisoned. No one would be coming to catch you.”

  “She said it wasn’t that kind of ward,” Zaphar explained. “It was the fatal kind.”

  Elara stared. No reputable wizard would cast— She stopped, and held back her retort. “You believed her?”

  “Well, there was a ward, and it was disarmed by her key,” Zaphar said. “The rest, I didn’t care to check out for myself.”

  “So you made a deal with this woman.”

  “Yeah, but not just to get past the ward. See, if she had a key, she must be working for the wizard who put the ward up in the first place.”

  Elara nodded. Aside from the expense, that was the other problem of depending on wards. You were trusting the wizard who put them there. In this case, a wizard who was willing to cast illicit spells.

  “So, I was thinking, as I was talking to this woman, that if this was the guy that a Shadowblade got to do his wards, what were the chances that the Shadowblades also got him to do work for them?”

  “High,” Elara said, her interest suddenly peaking. “So you freed her to get a lead on her employer?”

  Zaphar nodded. “Yeah, yeah. But there was also the matter of what she was there for.”

  “Which was?”

  “She was there to retrieve some documents left by the person who gave the Stormwardens their last job. She didn’t know who it was, but…”

  “Magister Tikin.” Elara had been told the story of how Lord Nos came into his title, and Tikin’s attempt to get his core back had been a part of that story.

  “Right,” Zaphar said. “She told me that she was just after the documents, and I was free to take any valuables the Stormwardens had left behind.”

  “But you wanted the documents for Lord Nos,” Elara guessed.

  “Right. Of course, I didn’t tell her that.” Zaphar pulled out a thin leather envelope, only slightly stained with blood. “You might want to have a look too, there might be something of interest there.”

  “I will,” Elara promised, “Once you’ve finished your story.”

  “Right. Well, it all went pretty smoothly until it was time to leave… and then events took a turn for the worse.”