Chapter 7

7

Nobody loves you like family; nobody lectures you like family.

~ Actress Lady Verova of Islemark

"They don't have any identification." Vlerion crouched beside one of the two dead men, the morning air chill with fog that hadn't lifted. "I haven't seen them before."

"So they're not notorious assassins?" The question Kaylina truly wanted the answer to was whether more would come after her.

"Notorious assassins don't get choked to death by plants." Captain Targon stood nearby, having invited himself along when Kaylina had entered ranger headquarters at dawn to share the news with Vlerion.

She politely didn't mention that Targon had almost been choked to death by a vine. She doubted he'd forgotten. Even though they were outside the courtyard wall, he'd cast numerous glances toward the castle—especially the tower—since arriving.

Kaylina couldn't blame him. The curse was proving it could reach beyond the courtyard walls to deal with enemies.

Soft concerned whuffs floated through the fog. Six taybarri, including Levitke, also stood nearby, not watching the investigation but congregating. From the way they kept looking at Kaylina, she had a feeling she was the subject of a discussion.

Targon noticed the taybarri and their focus. "They're pissed at me."

"Because of the loathsome protein pellets you feed them?" Kaylina asked.

"You're full of snark today." Targon glared at her, and then Vlerion, probably still wishing his ranger would flog obedient reverence into her.

"Yes, my lord," Kaylina said agreeably.

The glare shifted back to her. "I gather they're pissed that you were attacked after I told them ranger taybarri have to live in the ranger stables. They've tried to leave the premises a few times to come here and serve your divine anrokk -ness."

"I would love taybarri visitors, except…" Kaylina looked toward the tower, terrified at the thought of the plant attacking them because they were associated with the rangers.

"Exactly." Targon had followed her gaze. "They're forbidden from coming close to this place. So is Vlerion. I tried to bring Doc Penderbrock instead, but someone and his huge furry mount insinuated himself."

"I'm not the one who stepped on your foot." Vlerion joined them, holding a cloth band in his hand. He lifted it toward Kaylina. "This was in that man's pocket. I believe it was meant to be your gag."

"Meaning these were kidnappers and not assassins?" When Kaylina had seen the cudgels instead of swords, she'd assumed the men hadn't meant to kill her, but why would anyone want to kidnap her?

When she'd eavesdropped on the Virts a few weeks earlier, some of them had admitted they wanted to use her supposed druid abilities. Did they think they could lock her in a room somewhere, and she could magically spew power through the walls and into the city to inconvenience aristocrats and assassinate key people? Hardly. She hadn't even been able to keep the plant from killing these men.

"You piss off someone else by not being properly respectful?" Targon asked her.

"Dozens of people. It's my hobby."

Targon squinted at her, then looked to Vlerion again. "I'm shocked someone hasn't tried to gag her sooner."

Ignoring him, Vlerion gazed gravely at Kaylina. "I should have insisted you take the sword home with you last night."

He'd brought it this morning, the hilt freshly wrapped for her, and it leaned against the wall nearby.

"I don't think that would have changed anything. I had… protection." Kaylina also didn't know if she could drive a blade into a human being's heart. Some predatory animal's, yes, and maybe that of a Kar'ruk, but she didn't want to kill people. Cracking them with lead rounds suited her more. Her sling could leave a bruise, but it didn't kill.

"Protection? From the castle?" Targon grumbled under his breath. "I wouldn't trust that place—or that plant —as far as I could kick one of its crumbling bricks." He waved his foot toward the courtyard wall.

"Frayvar also came out with a frying pan."

"Oh, yeah, better than a legion of bodyguards."

"You will stay at ranger headquarters until we figure out who hired these thugs," Vlerion stated. An order.

Kaylina started to reply but caught Targon watching her and refrained from pontificating on how women liked men to say please and make suggestions instead of issuing mandates.

"May I have a word with you, my lord? Alone?"

Vlerion snorted, probably guessing the exact thought process that had led to the polite request.

"I'll hear your words." Vlerion gestured for Kaylina to walk away from Targon with him. "It's doubtful we'll be fully alone." He looked at Crenoch and Levitke as they separated from the other taybarri to follow Kaylina to the river's edge.

"I don't mind if they hear. They're indifferent to me snarking and don't care about people saying my lord and my lady ."

"They exist outside of our social mores and cultural expectations."

"Must be nice."

Before she could complain about his order, Vlerion held up a hand. "For your safety, and my peace of mind, I request that you accept a room at ranger headquarters."

"You couldn't say it that politely in front of your captain?" Kaylina couldn't object to that phrasing, even if she didn't intend to comply.

Vlerion considered Targon, who was scowling at the bodies. "No."

"Because I'm a commoner or because I'm a trainee?"

"Because I'm a noble and command rangers."

"So you can't make polite requests."

"Not to subordinates."

"Would that apply to lovers as well, should you acquire one of those?"

"To a lover training to be a ranger, yes," Vlerion said.

"Ranger life is complicated."

"More so than mead-making life, I believe so."

"Remind me why I agreed to start this training?"

Vlerion held a hand out toward Levitke, who was alternately watching the street and looking toward them. "I believe so you could ride taybarri and learn to defend yourself from all the many and varied nefarious thugs who wish to kill or use you."

"Ah, right. I knew there was a reason to put up with the crap."

" Whuff ," Crenoch said.

"I suppose I should get them honey drops since they came all the way here to check on me."

That prompted a more exuberant whuff .

"Will you also get Targon honey drops?" Vlerion's eyes glinted.

"If he wants some. I might spit on them and dust them with rat droppings first."

"It's odd that he believes you irreverent."

"I think so." Kaylina lifted a hand, tempted to touch Vlerion or lean on him to let him know she appreciated his presence, but she lowered it again, reminded of the bridge—of how every touch was a temptation. For both of them.

He gazed sadly at her and clasped his own hands behind his back.

"Is it okay to join you?" Frayvar stood in the open back gate several yards away, probably not sure if they were having a romantic interlude.

Kaylina wished they were. Though she would prefer to do that without anyone watching.

"Yes." Kaylina waved an invitation. "We've determined that these people were trying to kidnap me."

"Oh. That's good news."

Vlerion arched his eyebrows.

"How so?" Kaylina asked.

"The odds of surviving a kidnapping attempt are much better than surviving a murder attempt," Frayvar said.

"You've calculated them?"

He tilted his head. "I calculate everything."

"When he charged out, he must have been a fearsome sight to the kidnappers," Targon said as he walked over, apparently disinterested in letting Kaylina and Vlerion continue to chat without him.

"If you insult my brother, he won't invite you to our grand opening," Kaylina said.

Targon scoffed. "No ranger is going to show up for that. Are you seriously going to invite people here to this cursed death trap of a building?"

"To the courtyard outside," Kaylina said.

"We've set up tables and fire pits," Frayvar added. "I've made a seating chart to ensure the comfort of all guests while allowing sufficient room for servers to move about."

"I'm sure the fire pits will entice people to come to a place inundated with sentient killer vines," Targon said. "You know the rumors about this place have gotten worse since those beams shot out, right? You must have noticed the lack of foot traffic."

"The beams struck Kar'ruk invaders who were killing innocent people," Kaylina said. "The citizens of Port Jirador should be praising the castle for its brave defense of the city."

"Uh-huh. Nobody's going to show up for your mead."

"They will. They'll be curious. Besides, aren't you the one who wanted us to open this place?" Kaylina pointed at Targon. "You sent us furniture and mead-making equipment."

"Don't remind me. I didn't know rangers and taybarri—" Targon glared at the herd, "—wouldn't be able to stay away from the place and would immediately give away that you're aligned with us."

"You didn't think that your conscripting of me to train as a ranger would have resulted in the same thing?"

"She has a point," Vlerion said.

"I was adapting to changing information. When we first questioned her, who knew she'd turn out to have druid blood and be catnip to furry animals?" Targon squinted at Vlerion. "Of all kinds."

Vlerion squinted back at him, the look a touch dangerous.

"Hello?" a woman called from the side street. "Do any of you know where the mailbox is for this, uhm, establishment?"

Targon dropped a hand to his sword and peered through the fog. "This establishment has been vacant for generations and has only recently gotten a renter."

The woman walked closer, though she kept throwing wary glances toward the tower. With fog lingering in the streets, she hadn't noticed the bodies yet.

"I have a letter for Frayvar Korbian." She wore the green and white uniform of a postal worker and carried a large mail satchel.

Targon dropped his hand, nodding toward Frayvar and Kaylina.

Frayvar stepped forward and raised a finger. "That's me. The castle doesn't have a mailbox that we've noticed."

"The Saybrooks weren't fans of solicitations," Targon said.

"The plant isn't either. Are you expecting mail, Fray?" After the attempted kidnapping, Kaylina was wary of anything unexpected that showed up, whether person, animal, or envelope.

"I did write to Grandma last month. Oh, maybe she sent money and honey. That's what I asked for."

Kaylina eyed the slender envelope the postal worker waved and doubted it held either.

The woman noticed the bodies with a start. To her credit, she took a deep breath, skirted them, and reached Frayvar. "Here you go, sir."

"Thank you."

With the message delivered, the postal worker hustled up the river trail and away from the castle.

One of the taybarri whuffed, and she jumped, her letter satchel almost falling from her shoulder. Kaylina wagered the woman was glad Stillguard Castle didn't have a mailbox.

"It's from Grandma. She got our letter." Smiling, Frayvar drew his utility knife to open the envelope.

"Your letter. I didn't know you sent one." Kaylina did remember that her brother had asked if it would be allowed or if the shipmasters Targon had instructed not to give them passage would also refuse to carry their mail. "I wouldn't have asked the family for coin."

She might have asked them for honey, but now that she knew about the hives in the preserve, the delicious honey inside created by bees that foraged on magical altered plants, she didn't think they needed to import more from the Vamorka Islands. They could use the local stuff. From what the taybarri queen had said, few were permitted near those hives, but the bees had allowed Kaylina to walk up and take the honey. One perk of being marked by a magical plant.

"I have no trouble asking for financial assistance." Frayvar unfolded the single page—there weren't any liviti bills inside. "Due to unlikely benefactors, we've not spent as much money on the start-up costs as I thought we would…" He nodded toward the still-scowling Targon. "But it's still been expensive, especially since a fire forced us to delay our grand opening. Unless you count the private orders I've lined up and fulfilled, we're not bringing in an income yet."

"You fulfilled private orders?" Kaylina had been so busy training that she hadn't noticed any missing mead bottles.

"Three." Frayvar lifted his chin. "All from aristocrats with country estates around the city."

"Good work." Kaylina caught Vlerion smiling slightly and wondered if he'd had anything to do with the aristocrats finding out about their endeavor.

"The mead is what's good. Excellent, in fact. The word is already getting out. I'm…" Frayvar had been reading while he spoke and trailed off with a, "Hm."

Targon walked up, jerking his chin toward Vlerion. "Send someone to collect the bodies. I'll talk to Captain Deetrok at the Guard and see if anyone can identify them—or if he's heard anything about kidnappers in the city. This is too sloppy to be Spymaster Sabor's work. I suspect the Virts."

"Agreed," Vlerion said.

"It could also have been Jana Bloomlong," Kaylina said.

Targon looked blankly at her. She didn't know if it was because he didn't remember the rival mead-maker or couldn't imagine her masterminding a kidnapping.

Kaylina had no trouble envisioning the scenario. The woman had sent poisoned mead to the queen and framed Kaylina for it. And when that hadn't worked, Jana had delivered a vial of her special blend in case Kaylina wanted to nobly take her own life. She was definitely a mastermind.

"Has she threatened you further?" Vlerion asked.

"No, but I caught her watching the castle a couple of weeks back. From across the river, we made rude gestures to each other."

"Women have interesting ways of dealing with their grievances with each other," Targon said.

Kaylina half-wished Jana would come at her with a sword. She didn't mind a confrontation. Having to worry about sneak attacks was stressful.

"She didn't like that I was going to be her competition even before I found the druid honey, which is letting me make amazing mead. I don't want to sound cocky, but we could be legitimate competition for her." Kaylina hoped they would put the vile woman out of business, defeating her not with a blade but with the vast superiority of their mead. "That's an idea Jana doesn't like," she added.

"I'll return tomorrow," Vlerion told Kaylina, "and we can go visit her together. Her meadery doesn't open until late afternoon, but people can come and go at all hours for the inn." He knew because he'd skulked in Nakeron Inn on Kaylina's behalf before, seeking evidence.

She nodded to him, grateful for all he'd done for her.

"The taybarri will also come," Vlerion added. "We'll stand at your back and look threatening while you ask her questions. Maybe she'll be nervous."

"I would be," Frayvar said. "The rangers and taybarri are threatening."

A chuffing sound came from the herd. One of the taybarri was scratching his furry rump on the corner of a building. He rolled onto his back and started rubbing it on the cobblestones with all four legs in the air, his thick lizard-like tail swishing back and forth.

"Yes," Targon said, "It's surprising more people don't wet themselves when we ride past."

"Crenoch knows when to look serious and menacing. I'm not sure about that one." Vlerion pointed at the upside-down taybarri. "Or why he's here."

"We all know why." Targon flicked a finger at Kaylina. "You talk our trainee into living in the barracks yet, Vlerion? To keep her safe from the machinations of sixty-year-old female rival mead-makers?"

Kaylina curled a lip at him. Why was he mocking her when he knew that Jana had almost been responsible for her death?

"No," Vlerion said. "She changed the subject."

"If she's going to stay here, we'll have to post a guard to keep an eye on her, and I'd rather not waste manpower on that. She's a trainee , not…" Targon lifted a hand, groping in the air.

"She is someone special and worth protecting," Vlerion said coolly to finish the sentence.

"Right now, she's a special pain in the ass."

"She was integral in helping defeat the Kar'ruk scheme and shutting down the rebel press."

"That doesn't make her less of a pain in the ass," Targon said.

"No." Vlerion smiled.

Kaylina, who'd spotted her sister's name in the letter, frowned and elbowed him. "You're not supposed to agree with that."

"Will you stay in the barracks where you'll be safe without the need of a bodyguard?" Vlerion asked.

"Does my ass-pain status depend on me agreeing to that?" she asked.

"It does."

Targon nodded firmly.

Kaylina sighed, feeling ganged-up on. She might be safer from kidnappers in ranger headquarters, but she and Vlerion would be sleeping in the same building, and that, as they'd discussed, would be problematic.

"I need to be here this week for the grand opening to help set everything up," she said. "I also need to be here for?—"

"Our sister's arrival," Frayvar cut in, lifting the letter.

"Uhm, what?" Kaylina stared at it, horror blossoming.

Silana, their perfect older sibling, was coming to Port Jirador?

"Grandma and Grandpa got my letter and are considering our request?—"

"— Your request," Kaylina said.

"Yes. They're sending Silana up—it sounds like she's already on her way—to see if there's true potential and if we've chosen a good location. They also want to make sure we're serving mead that's up to the family standards."

"She's coming to check on us," Kaylina interpreted. "And butt in if she doesn't think we're doing things right."

She couldn't keep from making a sour face.

"I believe I said that, yes. Help from the family is contingent upon Silana's approval."

"We don't need their help. Or their approval." Kaylina sounded petulant, but she didn't care.

"You woke up with bodies outside your meadery," Targon pointed out.

"My sister can't do anything about that. She'll probably blame me for it."

Frayvar lifted a finger—he wasn't going to point out that they were there because of her, was he?—but maybe he read the irritation on her face, because he lowered it again without speaking.

"When does she arrive?" Kaylina thought of all the things they would have to do to ensure Silana didn't find the place a disaster. Removing the bodies was only the start. How would Kaylina explain the cursed plant? The cursed… everything ?

"This said her ship should arrive… looks like two days from now."

"That soon ?" Kaylina drew back, stress tightening every muscle in her body. "Is it wrong to hope someone kidnaps her ?"

"Yes," Frayvar said. "She has children."

"Damn."