Cross Keys: Unity Read online

  “Terrific. Any luck in Elvenrude?”

  She told him what she’d discovered.

  “Brunic should be pleased. The rebellion has proven tenacious and elusive, even without my great-uncle there to fuel it.”

  “The rebels haven’t done anything recently except talk and provoke a few minor confrontations, but this might help us keep an eye on them. I’m a little worried Brunic’s being so hard core.” She opened the oven and grabbed a mitt. “Look out, this is hot.”

  “He has a point. These same people supported Jermon.”

  “Some of them did,” she corrected.

  While they ate, he changed the subject to the new woolen buyer from Japan. “He placed a sizable order of capes and scarves that should keep the guild busy for the next thirty days. I hope to interest him in our gold and silver products too.” Seth leaned back in his chair and picked up his wineglass. “What did you do before going to Elvenrude?”

  “Acquisitions’ business. Two of my spotters transported from Greece to lodge a complaint. Apparently there’s a mysterious competitor who’s snatched several new finds of carved statuary.” She quirked a brow and set down her fork, shoving her empty plate away. “There will always be private and government collectors, and sometimes they get there first. As long as someone’s preserving these things, I’m not worrying about it. After all, that’s the king’s excuse for our museum collection—to preserve those treasures the humans are neglecting before they’re unavailable to future generations.”

  “So all’s well, except your spotters lost the recognition that comes with a good find.”

  “That’s about it. I told them to keep track of the near misses, but I’m not sure what we could do if we wanted to. There are some things we just can’t fix.”

  “Which reminds me…” Seth swirled the wine in his glass. “I had a message from Trystan. He’d like us to visit next week. I think he’s worried the seeds aren’t taking. Even diverting their resources, Cyrilia may not have enough magic to sustain the necessary climate and sun rotation.”

  “Oh, no. That sounds bad. And if it doesn’t?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what else we can do. They may be forced to abandon their world and relocate.”

  Trystan’s entire Cyrilian kingdom would be homeless—nearly four thousand descendants of the legendary moon elves. A big comedown for the proud, pale-haired race. Kam pictured the desolate land she’d seen when she’d been kidnapped and taken through the Cyrilian dimensional portal a few months ago. It had been a shock. She’d expected their magical world to be a place of lush trees and fields, much like Elvenrude. And apparently it had been in the beginning.

  Both worlds had been created from elven magic thousands of years ago when the elves fled through the portals to escape the advance of humanity. But the two branches—the moon elves and Kam’s ancestors, the darkkin—had very different views on life, and each group formed its enchanted world based on its own ideals and skills. The moon elves’ magic was now failing as a result of mistakes or mishaps by their forebearers. Since August the leaders of both worlds had attempted to set aside ancient animosity and work together to stop the disintegration.

  “Where would they go? Certainly not Elvenrude. Can you imagine?”

  Seth sighed and nodded. “No one is giving up on Cyrilia yet. It’s only been a few months, but the initial reports are not good.”

  “I can’t help but worry about our common class of moon elf descendants. If Cyrilia recovers or Trystan relocates, they may want to join their own people again. Especially if they’re dissatisfied enough to consider aligning with the duchaen rebellion. What happens to Elvenrude if we lose our workers?” She frowned and took another sip of wine. “It’s almost scary how everything is changing.”

  Seth reached across the table and took her free hand. “We’re ruining a perfectly good meal with all this talk of decaying worlds and rebel causes. I’d rather talk about life with my future wife. Not all change is bad. We’ve had our issues, but we’ve adapted and come through it. I love you more than ever, and soon we’ll be formally promised.”

  “Oh, Seth. I can hardly wait.” She set down her wine and clasped his hand with both of hers, the sizzling energy running up her arms and chasing the uncertainties away. “Having you makes up for everything else.”

  * * *

  Kam arrived at the Acquisitions Office early the next morning. Despite her dismissive words last night, she couldn’t shake off a nagging curiosity raised by her spotters’ complaint of a mysterious collector. Neither Reya nor Tomas was prone to exaggeration.

  She pulled the last six months of reports from all ten of her worldwide spotters and studied them. Finds had been down the last ninety days, especially in the Middle East and upper Africa. The antiquities business was often sporadic, still, there seemed to be a particular lack of statuary and other items of volcanic materials, namely obsidian. Kam frowned and dug through a stack of reports until she found one she remembered seeing from Oregon. A collection of rock specimens and artifacts had been stolen during a museum break-in. Mostly obsidian. Was she seeing a pattern?

  She set the report down and leaned back pensively. An obsidian collector? It wasn’t unusual for an enthusiast to concentrate on one particular type of artifact. King Seliwyn, for example. The spotter probably wouldn’t have sent her the article except the king also favored obsidian. Her people were always alert to new specimens for his personal collection.

  Her office door banged open.

  “Kammy! Oops, sorry, Kam. Mother told me it was time I quit using childish names.” Her younger sister breezed in, a grin nearly splitting her face. “I know you’re busy, but I just had to share the news. Bria’s pregnant.”

  “What? That was quick.” Kam stood, her grin matching her sister’s. Bria, their new friend from Cyrilia, and Caleb, Kam’s childhood sweetheart, had married four months ago when Bria returned to her home world to help with Cyrilia’s hoped-for recovery. The marriage had been somewhat controversial in both worlds.

  The sisters hugged, and Esty giggled. “I was going to tease her about Caleb’s virility…or her fertility, but she’d just be embarrassed. I didn’t want to ruin her happy moment.”

  Kam smiled and studied her sister’s face. Esty had grown up so much in the last few months. At nearly twenty-four, she was making the transition from puberty to elven womanhood, which peaked from thirty to eighty. “What great news! This will be the first child born in Cyrilia in five years. Bria’s so young she could give Caleb a whole passel. That should guarantee his acceptance.”

  Esty grinned again. “I’ll say. Why don’t we collect an infant welcome basket? Play things, blankets.”

  “Seth and I are going to see Trystan on Saturday. You could come with us and bring it along. I saw this darling stuffed lion in a shop window.”

  They discussed the basket contents and plans for Saturday, then Esty was off again. Her long, black hair—so much like Kam’s—swung sassily against her shoulders as she hurried out the door. Six months ago Esty had never been through the portals by herself. Now she used them freely, visiting Bria in Cyrilia and shopping or meeting Kam in New Orleans. Sometimes Kam wished her sister would stay a child a little longer, but Esty was only five years younger and at that age Kam had already been a member of the King’s Guard. She was actually proud of Esty’s new independence.

  Too bad Rhyden didn’t see it. Seth’s cousin and Esty had dated on and off for almost eight months before he broke it off for good, implying Esty was too young for him. Her sister had taken it hard, but after five weeks she was doing better. If she held any lingering hopes of reconciliation, she was hiding it well.

  Kam returned to her desk and eyed the pile of reports. A competitive collector wasn’t really a problem. Certainly not an emergency. She could take a couple hours to wander the New Orleans shops and admire the Christmas decorations. The city was so pretty at this time of year. And a fuzzy little lion cub in a shop window was ca
lling to her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Esty stepped out of the portal on the Elvenrude side, waved to a couple of guild workers, and exited the building. She immediately tucked her head against the cold wind. New Orleans’ weather was a wonderful escape this time of year, although Esty still preferred the changing seasons of her homeland. It would be a perfect day to curl up before the fire with a book, but she was focused on Bria’s infant basket. Since Caleb had already notified his family of the coming event, Esty felt free to spread the word and spent the rest of the morning and all afternoon visiting village homes and Elite tree houses to enlist the help of friends and family in making the gift basket a success. By suppertime she had more than two dozen items pledged before Saturday, enough for a suitable infant welcoming.

  But she was running late for supper. With the sun’s disappearance on the horizon, the temperature dropped another few degrees, and she huddled into her cloak. Absorbed in her own thoughts, she was forced to sidestep at the last moment to avoid a collision with another hurrying figure.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  Esty froze at the sound of his voice and glanced up. Rhyden. Her heart wrenched at the sight of him…at the compelling masculinity and chiseled features. She took a deep breath to control her racing pulse.

  She’d hoped she was beyond that.

  “Sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to run you off the path—Esty?” He peered at her in the growing dusk. “What are you doing out at this time of night?”

  “Just going home,” she said, finding her voice. “I had an errand that wouldn’t wait. I’m surprised to see you in Elvenrude.” Her voice was strong, if a little stilted.

  “Guild business. I’ve just finished a late tea with Harad. You know how it goes.”

  She nodded, remembering similar summonses in the past. His grandfather was the head of the Lormarc clan. At one-hundred-and-eighty, the patriarch still kept an eye on everything family related, including the guild’s lively trade with the human world. Either Rhyden or Seth had an extended meeting with him once a month.

  The warmth of Rhyden’s easygoing voice sent an unwelcome shiver down her arms, and she turned to edge past him. The sooner she was away from his ready charm, the better. “Well, I’ll let you get on your way—”

  The sound of horses’ hoofs made them both turn to look. Captain Brunic and three uniformed guards drew to a stop beside them.

  “Rhyden, well met.” Brunic nodded at Esty, then looked back at her companion. “I could use some help. We’re on our way to break up a rebel gathering.”

  “Let me get my horse.” Rhyden turned to Esty. “Will you be all right getting home on your own?”

  “Of course.” Esty hid her face in her collar, afraid it would reveal her sudden anxiety. She had a lot of interest in and sympathy for the duchaen cause. Not the mob violence they’d seen a few months ago, but their peaceful demands for recognition. The animosity toward the crossbreeds had never made sense to her, but since Bria and Caleb married, she’d listened closely to the duchaen’s complaints. After all, Bria’s child would technically be a crossbreed. Esty had even befriended one of the duchaen women she’d met at The Bookstore, a village gathering place where some mingling among the classes was expected if not encouraged. Esty didn’t condone the traitorous talk of overthrowing the government, but—as far as she could tell—most of the duchaen didn’t either. If this was a peaceful gathering, Brunic’s interference was harassment the rebels didn’t deserve.

  Obviously, Rhyden didn’t agree with her. As a special agent of the guard, he was bound to go anyway. While the men discussed their plans—where they would meet and the location of the rebel meeting—Esty grew increasingly alarmed. What would they do to the rebels when they found them? Arrest them? Would her friend Ellyn be thrown into a dark, lonely dungeon somewhere?

  Esty excused herself and hurried along the path. Ellyn had once told her where she lived. What had she said? A sod house with a red door. That was it. Esty wasn’t often in this area where the crossbreeds lived, but Ellyn had turned at this corner one morning when they’d returned from a walk.

  She moved quickly, peering at doors in the dim light, finally spotted a red door and rapped sharply.

  An older woman with a yellow-flowered apron around her waist opened it a crack and looked out. “Yes?”

  “May I speak with Ellyn please? I’m Esty Ryndel. Ellyn and I are friends.”

  The woman swung the door open and looked her over. “She’s mentioned you.” Her voice was neither friendly nor hostile. “She can’t see you right now.”

  “Oh, but it’s important. I’ll only take a minute.”

  The woman sighed. “She isn’t here.”

  Esty stifled a gasp. “Is she at a meeting? Oh, please, tell me. She could be in big trouble.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “The King’s Guard is on their way to raid the meeting. You have to warn her.”

  “Sweet Mother Earth! There’s no one home but me. And I don’t know exactly where they are.” The woman clutched at her apron. “Maybe I can find a neighbor to look for her.” She peered uncertainly at the dark houses nearby.

  “No, I’ll go,” Esty said, quickly making up her mind. “I have the directions. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this.”

  Before the woman could do more than say, “Bless you,” Esty ran toward her father’s stables at the edge of town. At least she’d worn jeans today due to the nip in the air.

  Her mare snorted as Esty led her out of the warm shelter. Maya rolled her eyes at this nighttime activity but danced at the unexpected treat. After slipping the bridle on, Esty vaulted onto the snow-white back and turned her toward open ground. According to Brunic’s directions, the rebels were meeting in a forest hut several miles away. She’d have to hurry to arrive first, and pray that Brunic didn’t also know a shortcut. Esty’s route involved a dangerous leap across a small waterfall, but she and Maya had done it dozens of times before…in daylight.

  Maya stretched out her legs and covered the open fields quickly. Esty slowed her slightly as they entered the forest path to the hunters’ shelter. This was the only section of forest where animals could be shot for food. The hut was actually a shrine where the spirit of each taken animal was honored. Esty frowned, wondering if the rebels were making some kind of statement in their choice of meeting place.

  She shook her loose hair out of her eyes and peered at the waterfall just ahead as Maya raced toward it. She lifted her body slightly, and Maya sailed over the splashing stream. Grinning at the perfect landing, Esty patted the mare’s neck and tightened her leg grip as they sped among the trees. Moonlight filtering through the bare branches of the magnificent live oaks allowed them to follow the narrow, beaten path with ease.

  Finally, she pulled Maya to a stop and slid from her back. The shelter was nearby, and the last thing she wanted to do was run into Brunic and Rhyden. She dropped the reins in a ground tether and slipped through the brush.

  Lantern light shown from cracks around the hut’s plain, wooden door. Voices drifted from inside, and Brunic was nowhere in sight. Esty stepped into the clearing, then stopped and ducked back under the trees at a sound from the woods on her right. Was that the soft snort of a horse?

  She waited, her heart pounding, hardly daring to breathe, then heard the crunch of dried twigs and a low murmur. Someone else was in the woods—probably Brunic and his men. She studied the open space between her and the shelter. How could she warn Ellyn without exposing herself? If only she had her bow.

  Esty crouched and felt the ground in the dark, gathering a handful of acorns. She moved as far forward as she could without leaving her cover and heaved half the nuts, following up with a second barrage. The acorns rattled against the door with a series of sharp thuds.

  Excited voices erupted inside, and the rebels burst from the shelter, scattering in every direction. Horsemen charged from the woods. Brunic and his guards might
catch one or two, but Esty saw many rebel figures escape into the trees. She hoped Ellyn was among them. At least they had a chance.

  Now to get herself out of here.

  She ran back to her horse, swung onto Maya’s back, and turned her head toward home. The mare leaped forward.

  * * *

  They’d had a lookout! Rhyden’s horse startled when the acorns hit the hut, and it took a moment to regain control. Brunic and two of his men had already dismounted and tethered their horses. They had to remount, which gave the rebels extra time to disperse.

  Rhyden urged his horse toward the cabin, but a flash of white in the forest caught his attention. A fleeing rider on a white horse. He whirled to follow, leaving Brunic and his men to go after the rebels still on foot.

  Rhyden leaned over his stallion’s neck and peered ahead. He caught only an occasional glimpse of the other rider as they sped along the twisting forest path and vaulted over fallen logs. The horseman was a hell of a rider. Rhyden almost lost the way twice. The waterfall was the last straw. He pulled up as the horse and rider ahead of him sailed over. No way he was taking that jump in the dark. He swerved upriver until he found a shallow crossing. By that time the rider was nearly out of sight, fleeing over the open fields.

  Rhyden followed, but he’d lost too much time to hope to catch the fugitive now. He continued in the rider’s last known direction, and fifteen minutes later, a building came into view. He lifted an incredulous brow. The Ryndel stables.

  Did Sawyer Ryndel have a rebel on his staff?

  Dismounting, Rhyden quietly led his horse forward, staying behind the building. He held one hand gently on his horse’s nose to keep him from whinnying a greeting. Upon reaching the back wall, he ground-tethered the stallion and ran toward the open west end of the horse shelter, hoping to catch the rider still inside. He turned the corner in time to see a slender, cloaked figure running toward the swinging walkway that led into Brierwood.