22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Aliya

A liya shook her head. She couldn't believe she'd ever end up back in Westcliff. A new bridge spanned the ravine her magic had gouged just a few weeks ago. The smooth-cut timbers were still shiny and untouched by weather or use.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, making sure the hood hid her features. Her ebony arm flashed in her vision. At least this visit, she looked nothing like the last time.

Aliya wore the form of a serving girl, the same one she changed into the first night with Elessan. This time, however, her skin was a shade comparable to his. The dark tone was less common in the human kingdom, but not so rare as to draw unwelcome attention.

The World's End was no longer a pile of cinders. A wooden frame stood proud, though the rough-cut boards for its walls still lay to the side.

She'd need somewhere else to sleep for the night. Taking a deep breath, she wrinkled her face in distaste. By the seven gods! She reeked. After several days in a sweltering prison wagon, followed by traveling at top speed through the forest for over a week, it was expected. So, bath first, then dinner and bed. Tomorrow morning she'd hunt down the mage underground and call in a favor.

Another inn loomed at the end of the block. The Velvet Rose. Aliya bit her lower lip. A handful of well-dressed ladies lingered outside. It appeared more comfortable than any of her previous inns. Something high-class like this should offer hot baths, and decent food.

That probably made this lodging's rates exorbitant, assuming they even let her in given her current state.

She reached into her cloak, weighing her purse and the coins. One night of luxury wouldn't be so terrible, would it? As a gift to herself for escaping the king's assassins.

Aliya stepped up to the porch, meeting the gaze of several of the women lounging around.

"Hello, sweetheart," one of them called to her in a husky voice. "Looking for some company?"

"Er, no, thank you," she said, walking past and heading inside. "Just a bath and bed for the night."

High-pitched titters followed her.

The owner draped the entrance in opulent fabrics as fine as anything to be found in the castle. Rich reds, purples, and golds overwhelmed her eyes as the scent of orange and jasmine clogged her nose. Other ladies, dressed in silks and satin lounged on various couches around the room. Their gazes latched onto her as she entered, following her with an almost predatory intensity.

This was, without a doubt, the oddest inn she had ever been in. Where was the bar? The food? The patrons?

An attractive young man met her inside. "Looking for something in particular, miss? We have men available, too, if you would prefer?"

What?

"A room for the night, with dinner and a hot bath, please?"

The man blinked a few times and glanced around as though expecting someone else to accompany her. "A room? By yourself? You are aware you cannot provide your own companions here?"

What an odd thing to say. Aliya spread her arms out to the side. "It's just me. Is this not an inn?"

The attendant snapped his mouth shut. His throat bobbed.

A woman dressed too opulently for the weather—she wore peacock feathers in her hair—came up to them. "A room, dear? Of course!" Her voice dripped with honey. She cast a pointed glare at the man. "Room six, please."

Lips still clamped together, the man handed the woman a key, which she dangled in front of Aliya's face. "Here you go, love. Up the stairs, take a left, last door on the right. The servants will prepare a bath for you. Dinner will be in an hour."

With a sigh, Aliya grabbed the key and retreated up the steps.

The chamber was...well, pink. Her bed, the focal point of the space, hid under a pale rose comforter fluffier than most mattresses she'd slept on. The four-post frame sported gossamer drapes hanging all the way to the floor. Thick fuchsia and white rugs encircled the whole affair.

No other furnishings adorned the room, no wall hangings or tapestries. A small window overlooked an alley behind the building. She drew the salmon-colored curtains over the glass.

With a tentative knock on her door, a young girl popped her head inside. "Pardon me, lady." She opened the door and dragged an oversized metal tub into the room. "You wanted to bathe?"

Aliya nodded.

The servant smiled. "I'll bring the water right up."

Half an hour later, Aliya leaned her head back against the rim of the basin and sighed as the heat loosened her muscles. The soap scratched and didn't lather well, but at least it smelled decent. Some sort of lemon verbena mixed with mint.

The hair rinse was orange and jasmine—the same scent she'd noticed near the front door. They also provided a bottle of almond-scented oil, for rubbing into her skin after.

When she finished, she'd be mistaken for a perfumery.

She didn't care. It was better than the alternative. Soon she could crawl into the fluffy bed and collapse.

Dunking her head, she washed the cleanser away.

From the other side of the wall, rhythmic thumping started, along with obviously exaggerated moans.

No way... She sat up and replayed the scene from downstairs in her mind.

Oh, no. She buried her face in her hands as it heated. This was no inn. And people had witnessed her walking into this establishment. In broad daylight.

At least she didn't appear her usual self. If Elessan ever found out, she'd never hear the end of his teasing. She envisioned him trying to hold back his laugh, like that first night as she figured out the bed roll.

She threw a glance at the door through narrowed eyes. There'd been no mention of payment, or the cost of the room. Surely they didn't expect her to...

She'd make sure she locked the door as soon as she finished her bath.

Speaking of baths, this one was starting to chill.

Reaching into her core, she pinched off the smallest amount of magic and wrapped her fist around it. The power warmed and within moments, the water steamed again.

Aliya groaned and, ignoring the rhythmic pounding on their shared wall, closed her eyes and lay back.

Where should she hunt for the Mage Underground, and that odd little gnome, Jalius, who had healed her? Maybe, before she convinced him to rally the mages to her cause, he'd heal the blistering iron burns on her wrists.

Knock, knock.

She jumped as her eyes flew open. Tepid liquid sloshed over the edge of the basin. She must have drifted off.

"Dinner, lady," came the soft voice through the door.

Thankfully, the thumping from the other side of the wall had stopped.

Stepping from the tub, she wrapped the thick terrycloth dressing robe around herself and cinched it tight at the waist. Padding across the rug with wet feet, she cracked the door. The same servant who had prepared her bath stood with a tray of cubed potatoes and a steak.

Aliya opened the door, and the other girl stepped inside, setting the food on the bed. "I can clear everything out if you're finished, lady?"

She nodded. "Thank you. But please leave the oil."

Nodding, she unlatched the window. The breeze danced against Aliya's damp skin, raising goosebumps. Using the pail she'd used to cart the water upstairs, the girl shoveled the dirty liquid out to the alley below.

Once the tub was empty, she pushed it from the room. "Oh, you left so fast when she handed you the key...the madam asked me to inform you there will be a five-gold charge for everything, per night."

Something inside Aliya uncoiled, relaxing. Payment in coin, however outrageous, she could stomach. Compensation in services...not so much. She smiled and dug the requested pieces from her purse. "Thank you."

The attendant pocketed the money, gave her a quick head bob, and ducked out, pulling the basin behind her. Aliya closed and locked the door.

The meat smelled delicious. Her mouth watered.

Taking the platter, she plopped down, cross-legged on the floor. They'd seasoned the potatoes with something she'd never sampled before. The spices left her tongue tingling. The gravy was as rich as anything in the palace. If this weren't a bordello, she'd be inclined to go downstairs and ask the chef for the recipe.

She lifted the glass of water and a note slipped off the tray.

Picking up the paper, she unfolded it.

Tomorrow morning, sunrise, Market Space 4. —Jalius

She pressed her lips into a thin line and bit her cheek and double-checked the skin on her arms—still dark brown. Her fingers traced the shape of her face—still as she intended. Apparently, her disguise wasn't as thorough as she thought.

At least she wouldn't need to worry about hunting down the little gnome.

Once she finished dinner, she pulled on the too short and practically translucent nightgown on the edge of the bed and crawled between the fluffy blankets. The mattress sunk beneath her weight, its stuffing gloriously soft.

She could get used to this, but it was only for one night. Brothel aside, she didn't have another five gold on her. Throwing one last glance around the room, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"I suppose you think you've done well for yourself?"

Aliya jumped as Malkov's voice sounded next to her ear. She leapt from the plush bed and scrambled to the opposite side of the room. Crossing her arms over her chest, she backed against the wall.

He studied the space, frowning at the pink comforter and curtains. "Hopefully you're not paying anything for this chamber. Ugh." He turned his head away. "It's so tacky."

She reached for her kernel of power, only to find it disturbingly absent. "How are you here? I thought I had to come to you."

"The location doesn't matter. We could meet on the sand dunes of the Saldanian Desert, if I cared to. And quit trying to call on your magic. It's of no use to you right now."

Her stomach hardened. Her best defense, gone.

Brushing a stray hair out of her face to cover her consternation, she glared. "What do you want, Malkov?"

"Majesty," he corrected her. "What do you want, Your Majesty. "

"You're no king of mine." Baring her teeth, she grabbed the poker from the cold hearth and brandished it at him.

He laughed, ignoring her makeshift weapon. "I've reclaimed the Larimar Barony for the Crown, and stripped you and your father of your titles. Well, all except queen, of course. You'll keep that until you die."

Ugh. The honor she wanted least of all. "You can have that one, too."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd hoped that after this was over, she could abdicate the throne and go home. Nausea roiled in her gut at the loss of her Plan B, even as implausible as it had been.

"I'm going to enjoy your death, you know. No one else has caused me half this much trouble."

"Yeah, well, I object to losing my magic and my life."

He turned his palms toward her and shrugged. "I truly don't see why. Your contribution will allow us to finish production on the Whisperers and end the war with the elves. There is no more worthy cause than that."

"I have one for you. Peace."

"What?" He scoffed. "With those murderous knife-ears? Please."

He glanced around the room, scrutinizing every detail.

"Trying to figure out where I am?"

Rhythmic thumping started against the far wall.

She paled. By the Seven Gods. Could the ground swallow her now? Jutting her chin forward, she ignored the flush that spread across her face.

"I see," he said. "Stay there, nice and comfortable in your whorehouse. Brooks will find you shortly." He turned away, fading into thin air.

"Not if I get to you first," she swore to the empty room.

The next morning, Aliya found her clothing, washed, pressed and lying on the floor outside her door. She'd expected the servants to throw them away and replace the outfit with those gaudy silks. Or worse, clothes like the lady with the peacock feathers had worn.

Ugh. She shuddered.

There was no way she was going through the front door to this building again, even if people already knew she stayed here. She narrowed her eyes at the folded paper, still on the tray with her dinner dishes.

She should contact Jalius in the same shape he'd seen her in before. Or would it make a difference? He knew she took lodgings here, so he must be aware of her appearance.

It would be safest to meet the gnome in her primary form, on the off chance he wasn't acquainted with her disguise. If he brought anyone, it would be better if they met her, the queen, rather than having to come up with an explanation as to why she didn't appear as expected. The last thing she needed right now was to erode the trust of potential allies.

Calling up the image of herself with blonde hair and sun-kissed skin that served as her favorite shape, she shifted.

A few minutes later, she climbed out the tiny window and shimmied her way to the alley.

Her boots splashed down into a puddle of what she hoped was leftover bathwater but stank of piss.

Yuck.

Painted on the wall below her room in red paint were the words Free the Mages!

Licking her lips, she tore her eyes away and pulled her cloak over her head before stepping into the street. At least the Mage Underground seemed to be alive and well.

The streets were busy. She stopped a passer-by for directions to the market.

On the other side of town. Go figure.

She bought a meat pie for breakfast with a few coppers. Her purse was far too light. Perhaps last night's luxury had been a mistake. She needed another bedroll, too. Sleeping outside without one was decidedly uncomfortable.

The bazaar was packed. Vendors hawked their wares in a huge circle around the plaza. Shoppers, street children and laundresses sat on the edge of the domineering fountain in the middle of the square, going about their business.

A little ramshackle stand with some nearly rotten apples and cabbages occupied space four, sandwiched between a cloth merchant and a jeweler. Aliya's eyes kept straying to the glitter and sparkles of the other vendor booths.

Forcing herself to ignore the jeweler's welcoming smile, she knocked on the wooden slats of the display table.

"Hello? Is anyone here?"

The curtain over the back wall shifted. A knobby nose and set of eyes peeked out. Teeth flashed in the gloom as the fabric tore aside. Jalius blinked and smiled.

"Ah, yes. Please, come in, come in." He waved his hand, beckoning her inside.

The cramped space behind the stall was dark. A hole with a rung ladder descending into shadows dominated the room.

"Your Majesty, welcome, welcome. Come in, follow me. This is not a safe place to talk."

He disappeared into the abyss.

Aliya stared after him. Somehow, the chaos of the streets seemed much safer than the bottomless pit of darkness ahead. She glanced at the white opal ring on her finger, a reminder of her vow.

If she didn't accompany Jalius, she'd lose her one chance for a formal alliance with the Mage Underground. If she was going to survive to kill Malkov, she'd need every bit of help she could get.

Swallowing, she opened her hand and pulled enough magic to light a fist-sized ball of fire. She sent the burning sphere down the tunnel before following behind him.

He raised an eyebrow and nodded. A smile ghosted his lips. "Well done, Your Majesty."

She took a deep breath and stood taller as she smiled back.

At the bottom of the ladder, a narrow hallway led into the darkness beyond her makeshift torch. The weight of the earth overhead pressed down on her shoulders. She wrinkled her nose—the passage reeked of sulfur and sewage.

At least the floor was dry, unlike the alley.

"Wait up," she called, jogging after him.

He guided her several yards into a vast chamber. A quiet din echoed from the far side of the room. The walls were speckled with pockets, filled with objects wrapped in linen cloth. She met Jalius' gaze with round eyes.

He nodded, ever business-like, and waved her forward. "The old catacombs, yes. Welcome to the Shadow Market, Your Majesty."

"What?"

"Here, you can find anything and everything magical your little heart could desire." He led her around a group of invested shoppers and past a vendor cart piled high with bundles of herbs, some of which she recognized from her time with Elessan, and others she didn't. A musky smell with a spicy, peppery scent tickled her nose. Sage.

The next table had several moonstones and other jewels cut into cabochons and polished to a fine gloss. They reminded her of the gem in Brooks' forehead. She reached out to touch the closest one. "Are these magestones?"

Jalius grabbed her wrist before her fingers brushed the surface. "Don't mention those evil things here," he hissed. "They're abominations!"

Someone bumped into her as the crowd swelled past the stalls, almost throwing her into the cart.

The young human with raven hair behind the table smiled at her. "They are speaking stones. Rub your hand over them once, and they record sounds and can play them back later." Her blue eyes sparkled. "Useful if you suspect a cheating spouse, or if you're looking to keep discreet tabs on certain people."

Aliya swallowed. Or spies.

She studied the rocks. Doubtless, Elessan would know of them. He probably even had a few—wait. She froze. Their first time at an inn together, the night he'd shown her his glowing skin. He'd put one on the table and activated it when he ran to the market.

Meeting the vendor's gaze with wide eyes, she snapped her loose jaw closed.

The human tilted her head to the side. "I take it you've seen these before?"

Aliya nodded. "Once." But she hadn't since. Elessan had been spying on her the first night, but either he'd gotten more subtle about it, or he'd decided to trust her. Regardless, it left a sour taste in the back of her throat.

She reached out and grabbed Jalius' sleeve. "I don't have any money to buy magic artifacts. If I'm going to honor my promise and overthrow the King, what I need are allies, people who will fight for me."

The ruckus in the cavern fell silent, as though someone had flipped an invisible switch. Somewhere, a trickle of water dripped into a pool.

"We are aware. This is a safe spot for the magical community to gather. Many are here to learn what you have to say, so they can decide to join you, or not."

Her throat constricted and she swallowed. "What?" He'd promised the Mage Underground would assist her. Clearly, Jalius didn't speak for all of them.

"Come!" He used her grip on his arm to pull her forward. "Tell them who you are, what you want. Let them choose." He winked at her and dropped his voice. "Win yourself your army, Your Majesty."

By the seven gods. Public speaking? Her knees buckled. "What am I supposed to say?"

Pulling her onto a platform in the middle of the room, he smiled. "The truth, of course." People of every race eyed her—humans, dwarves, gnomes, even two moon elves standing in the back. A dryad hovered at the edge of the crowd. The vendors in their stalls stared at her.

She gulped and licked her lips, her mouth parched.

"Hello." She glanced at Jalius and cleared her throat. Here went nothing. "I'm Aliya Larimar, wife of Malkov Cerel, Queen of Lions Grove." She raised her palm, and her conjured fireball came to rest in it. "The king wants to kill me for my power, as I'm sure you all know he's done to others. I escaped, but now I'm through running. The elves support me." At least, she hoped they still did. She avoided making eye contact with the two in the back. With Cressida dead, they might just execute her and be finished with it. Her voice wobbled, the partial lie settling uncomfortably in her stomach. "But an elven army alone can't defeat him. He has access to magic, and to new weapons we can't hope to overcome on our own. I need you, the magical community. It'll take all of us, working together, to rid ourselves of King Malkov.

"Once I'm queen in truth, I'll end the Elf-Human war, and the destruction of the other races. I'll reopen trade routes, reestablish the Mage College, and I don't think it should be shameful to be a magic user." She studied the room and swallowed. "The elves have mages as leaders, and I'd like to include them on my ruling council, if you'll have me."

Jalius smiled. A few people cheered, but most of them stared at her, unmoving.

She glanced at the ring on her finger. "Summertide is in a week. I've always felt closest to my power during the solstice, so that's when I'll make my move." Coincidentally, it also aligned with the deadline for her vow.

Hopefully, no one here was a spy for Malkov. Otherwise, she'd just given up any benefit of surprise. Her eyes roamed over the crowd before once more landing on Jalius. She'd have to trust he'd suitably vetted the attendees. "If you're tired of living in the shadows, join me. You can only improve your station, and the position of every mage in this realm. I await your answer." She pinned Jalius with a hard stare and dropped her voice. "And I expect you to uphold your end of our bargain."

The gnome nodded. "You'll have our response tomorrow."

One of the hardest things she'd ever done was to turn her back on the cavern and walk out the way she came. No one followed her.