Then she kissed me. It caught me entirely off guard. Suddenly her soft lips were pressing into mine, paradise in my face.
I jerked away. “What are you doing? I don’t want to be your love slave!”
She laughed. “Silly, I don’t have to enslave every man I kiss, any more than you have to compel every woman you look at. Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss. That one was just for fun. You are not my love slave.”
“That’s what you think,” I muttered. “You don’t need to use magic on me to do it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “I just wanted to get you alone so I could have my little way with you.”
Little way? So she had maneuvered to make the separate parties. Never underestimate the cunning of a woman!
You’re not the only one with devious plans, Fiera thought, amused. Now I understood why the dragon had agreed to separate from the princess; she had been in on that one.
“Why?” I demanded as my feelings circled for a landing that I feared would be more like a crash.
“Because I like you. Do I need any other reason?”
“Yes! You’re the princess. You can’t afford to waste yourself on just any man.”
“Indeed, and I do not. But it is becoming apparent that you are not just any man,” she said evenly. “You have as much of a claim to the throne as I do.”
“I’m the son of a bastard!” I protested.
“And I’m adopted. So both bloodlines are compromised. We might conclude that it is better to merge them and eliminate any question of legitimacy.”
“Merge the lines? As in marriage? What about love?”
She stared at me blankly. “How does love relate?”
It seemed that we had a cultural difference here. “Where I come from, folk marry for love, not lineage. Generally.”
Rose shook her head. “This is not the rule with royals. Marriage is a tool to secure advantage and lineage. The sex can be fun, too, before he gets too many concubines. It does help if the participants come to like each other, in time. But that is hardly the point.”
I was appalled. “Princess! This is not—”
I couldn’t finish, because she cut me off with another kiss. This one had just enough more oomph so that I knew she was applying a touch of her magic. This time I didn’t jerk away; I couldn’t. I wanted to remain this way forever. She was a complete dream.
She finally let me loose. “Now that we have established that, let’s see what else we can find,” she said, smiling.
I was satisfied to agree. I couldn’t withstand any more of her kisses, even if they supposedly lacked magic. If she meant to establish who was to be the dominant member of this association, she had accomplished it. But it bothered me to think she was merely being practical. That the burgeoning emotion she stirred in me was only a ploy to make me behave.
Rose continued the search, smiling obscurely.
Then again, maybe she was looking for love with a qualified man, rather than endure the arranged marriage that otherwise threatened. That put a more positive face on it.
Found something, Fiera’s thought came.
We hurried to rejoin the others. There was a swatch of torn cloth hung up on a thorny bush. There was part of a monogram on it: EPH.
“Mephisto,” I said.
“You knew we would find it,” Dubi said.
“I thought it likely.” But this was so obvious it was clumsy. Someone evidently took me for a fool.
“Now with this proof of his guilt you want to brace him in his den?” Rose asked.
“Making yourself the perfect target?” Dubi added.
“Of course,” I agreed.
Rose looked at Dubi. “Should I kiss him?” Meaning to subjugate me so that I could no longer contemplate going against her preference.
“We do not enjoy feeling stupid,” Dubi said. “Please explain your reasoning. Why were you so sure this evidence would be found here, and why are you determined to put your head in the noose? Fiera thinks you do have reason.”
“Just this,” I said. “Mephisto is not our man. He is being crudely framed, in the hope that we will go after him and either kill him or get killed ourselves. The real assassin is trying to trick the good guys into knocking each other off. That will make it that much easier to take over the kingdom with apparently clean hands.”
“Framed,” Dubi said thoughtfully. “You have more indication of this?”
“Yes. When we were ambushed by the bandits, they had been set up. We took one prisoner, and he was the one who recognized the spy as one of Lord Mephisto’s minions. That was entirely too coincidental and convenient, and not because of any artifice on Boffo’s part; he would not deceive the princess. Some one else must have set that spy on us, possibly with a fake message to the spy that it was Mephisto’s directive. Knowing that Boffo would recognize him, and if we happened to catch him, he would implicate Mephisto. Then I learned from you that Mephisto was already your leading suspect. There must have been other things you picked up on that implicated him. Again, suspiciously convenient. It is possible that he is the one, but I think more likely that he is not. That’s why I have to talk to him directly. If he is innocent, he will not be pleased about the frame.”
“And if he is guilty?”
“He is unlikely to off me in his own castle. That would confirm his guilt. So I am probably safer there than elsewhere. In any event, it should be an interesting interview that will tell me more than his words do.”
“More?” Dubi asked.
I glanced at Rose. “It is possible that Lord Mephisto is your apologetic uncle, who visited you first personally, then in your dreams. That he knows you are a target for assassination, and feels guilty for allowing you to be out there alone, as it were, but he can’t make his case without alerting the true assassin to the suspicion. That he loves you and wants to protect you, but is largely unable.”
“Uncle!” she said, amazed.
“This is too much of a risk,” Dubi said. “You are a claimant to the throne yourself. If he is guilty, he may not be able to resist assassinating you. That would leave just one other to remove.”
“Does anyone besides you, Rose, and Fiera know about my claim?”
“We think not,” Dubi said.
“So to Mephisto I should be a snooping hireling not worth eliminating.”
Once more the wizard and the princess exchanged glances. Neither of them was comfortable with this.
Neither am I, Fiera thought. A telepath could have snooped on your unguarded mind.
“But if we do nothing, we may be sure that the assassin, whoever he is, will not be idle. He’ll be coming after one or more of us on his own schedule. Better to keep moving, keep him off-guard. So now please let me do what you hired me for. I need to interview Mephisto.”
“There is a certain twisted logic there,” Dubi said reluctantly. “I can’t go there; there are wards against wizards. But you could.”
Rose sighed. “In that case, go, Sir Roan. I will go with you.”
“No!” Dubi and I said almost together, and I felt Fiera’s mental flare.
“You like logic?” Rose said defiantly. “Then assimilate this: if Mephisto is ’Uncle,’ only I will be able to fathom his illusion and recognize him. And if he should threaten me or you, I can kiss him. But I think he won’t. As you say, assassinating me in his own castle would advertise his guilt and rouse the entire kingdom against him. I should be as safe there as you. And if he is innocent, there’s no danger anyway, and we may gain a powerful ally.”
Got you there, the dragon thought. I can’t go either, because of the dragon wards.
I was not completely pleased, but her logic, based on mine, was as good as mine. “Then it is time to go see Lord Mephisto,” I said. “How do we get there pronto?”
Dubi looked as if he had swallowed a rotten egg. “I have a method.”
“Good enough. Let’s be on our way.”
Chapter Nine
Dubi sho
wed us into another room.
This one was down a long flight of stairs and through a narrow tunnel, where we stepped into what I figured was Dubi’s personal voodoo room. Or whatever he called it. I saw caged birds and animals of all shapes and sizes. What he did with these animals, I didn’t know, but I hoped nothing too nefarious.
There was an actual cauldron that sat near a fire. I stepped over to it and peered inside, hoping like crazy not to see something too traumatizing. The smell that wafted out of it was...heavenly. Dubi walked up next to me, and patted my back. I jumped, despite myself.
“Dinner,” he said, smiling. He used a ladle to mix in a colorful array of vegetables and what appeared to be chunks of red meat. “The equivalent of your beef stew.”
I nodded, relieved. What a high-level wizard did in his private chambers was enough to make my imagination run wild. Too wild.
“Looks good,” I said.
“You must be famished.”
I thought about that, and had no clue when I might have eaten last. I agreed, and soon bowls and spoons were produced and the three of us spent a few quiet moments talking amicably and feasting on what turned out to be something utterly delicious.
“This meat...” I started, but Dubi shook his head.
“Not meat, my friend. We here in the Realm do not approve of the killing and eating of our animals. The meat is a magical mixture of plant proteins.”
“Like soy,” I said.
He cocked his head a little. Undoubtedly, his magical translation spell was doing its best to translate my word into the realm’s equivalent. Finally, he nodded. “Indeed. Like soy.”
Once finished, tankards of something that could have been beer—but was much sweeter, mead, perhaps—was produced. I had two.
Next, Dubi led us over to a stone archway that led...into a stone wall. “The portal,” he said, and seemed proud.
“It’s a wall,” I said, and caught Princess Rose smiling next to me.
“In appearance only, Detective Roan. From this portal, I can send you anywhere in the realm. Well, anywhere within a few hundred clacks.”
“It’s not exact?”
“Heavens, no,” he said jovially.
A sudden, alarming thought occurred to me. “What if we arrive, say, in a tree? Or within a mountain?”
“Then that would be most unfortunate,” said the older wizard, grinning. He and the princess exchanged another grin.
Then he closed his eyes, waved his hand, and the stone wall shimmered...and disappeared entirely. Beyond lay a forest path, and beyond that, rising high above the forest, was another castle. This one appeared darker and more formidable than the castle I presently found myself in. Black smoke belched from a nearby volcano. The Mountain of Fire.
Dubi studied the portal, then shrugged. “Sadly, this is as close as I can get you. As you can see, you will not appear in a tree or a mountain or even a river. You are much more likely to come across one of Lord Mephisto’s many patrols, than cutthroats and thieves.”
With that, we were given provisions, satchels filled with cheese, bread and water skins. I took the princess’s hand, and together stepped through the archway...and found ourselves on a forest trail.
I turned back, and could only see a winding trail disappearing into the thick foliage. There was no portal, or even Dubi. Powerful magic indeed!
We followed the path that led in the direction of the castle, I re-loaded my pistol. The princess watched me curiously. “A deadly weapon,” she said.
“Too deadly. It causes much strife in my world.”
“I can imagine. May I hold it?”
I frowned at that, and gently handed it over to her, advising her how to hold it as I did so. She took the Smith & Wesson carefully enough, turning it over and getting a feel for it. Then she aimed it a nearby tree and pulled the trigger.
The sound was deafening, and would surely alert any of Mephisto’s nearby patrols. I was about to ask her why she’d acted so carelessly when something heavy fell from the tree. It was a man, and, from all indications, he had been shot in the heart. A crossbow clattered next to him.
Princess Rose walked up to him. The look on her face “A common thief,” she said. “Not our assassin.”
“Holy shit,” I said, finally finding words. “How...how did you know?”
“When you grow up in the forests of the Realm, Detective Roan, you learn to look into the trees.”
She handed me the pistol and moved on. I looked again at the dead man at my feet, at the perfectly placed shot over his heart, and found myself unable to make any sense of it. The bandit being right here where we jumped to the path, and the princess making such a shot.
Worse, was her attitude toward the dead man. Her apparent disdain for life.
She looked back and saw me standing over the alleged thief. “Make no mistake, Roan. He would have killed us without a second thought.”
I considered the irony in her words as I caught up to her. I also considered the case of my father’s own strange death. My father, Roan Senior, had been quite fit and healthy for his age. In fact, he was the picture of health. Which was why when he had been found dead in his Los Angeles home, all had been surprised. None more than me.
An autopsy had been performed, confirming initial suspicions: he’d died of a stroke. The evidence of a stroke wasn’t conclusive, but it seemed the most likely. There had been no sign of foul play, and no signs of an accident. Maybe I was paranoid to remember how there were drugs that could enter the system and induce something like a stroke. A form of poisoning. It was a stock in trade in certain circles.
He’d been found by his cleaning lady. Who’d reported, interestingly enough, seeing a woman at my father’s house just the night before. A young woman. A beautiful woman. My father had been fit for his age...and single. I was aware that he’d often dated well below his age group. After all, he was handsome and successful and well-off. Highly desirable traits to some women.
So the fact that a woman had been seen the night before his death had been curious, but not unlikely. The police never did locate her for questioning, which had always been frustrating to me, and undoubtedly so for the police themselves.
What occurred to me now was the housecleaner’s eye witness statement. The woman had been tall with flowing strawberry blond hair. She’d also had, of all things, a pet lizard sitting on her shoulder. An iguana, undoubtedly. A curious fact that always puzzled the police. Hell, puzzled me, as well.
But as I followed the the princess along the narrow trail, I was suddenly well aware of her long legs and lightly tinted hair. The princess didn’t have an iguana sitting on her shoulder.
But she certainly had a pet dragon.
We continued along in silence, and it wasn’t long before we attracted the attention of a regiment of guards who escorted us rather rudely up to the ominous castle.
Where Lord Mephisto awaited.
Chapter Ten
The castle was smaller than the late king’s residence, but similarly comfortable inside. The guards escorted us to an elaborate reception hall with ornate carved ivory chairs. Ivory? Those had to be huge elephants to provide tusks big enough to be carved into such furniture. More likely it was fake ivory designed to be impressive. Lord Mephisto wanted us to be daunted. And how would he himself appear? Like the wonderful wizard of Oz?
A man stepped forward to greet us as the guards retreated. He was middle aged, portly, with receding hair and slightly uneven teeth. His clothing was not impressive either; there was a button missing from his jacket, and his trousers had thin worn spots. “Good to meet you at last, Princess Rose,” he said. “And you too, Roan Quigley.” He took Rose’s hand to kiss, then held out his hand to shake mine.
This was the formidable rival claimant to the throne? I took it in stride. “Lord Mephisto, I presume,” I said as I shook his hand.
“Indeed.” His fingers were somewhat flaccid; I was not impressed. Until I realized that he must be trying to fake
us out. He wanted to come across as a pushover, when he was anything but. This was not his real appearance or manner. “Please be suitably seated,” he said, gesturing to the chairs.
We obeyed, sitting beside each other, facing him. Rose crossed her legs, showing a fair length of thigh. She was trying to work her magic on him, but he seemed unaffected.
“We come on business,” I said. “May we speak candidly?”
“Candor is a rare and precious quality,” he said. “You may employ it, but I prefer caution.” He snapped his fingers, and a uniformed maid appeared. “Serve our guests refreshments as we hold our dialogue.”
The maid curtsied and departed. In a moment she returned with a large glass tray supporting goblets and sweetbreads.
“Thank you, but I think I am not hungry,” Rose said somewhat tightly.
“Oh, my dear, do not be afraid to sample my wares,” Mephisto said, looking pained. “If I meant you ill, I would hardly need to drug you. Believe me, I have nothing but the best of intentions toward you.” He took a goblet and sipped, demonstrating its safety.
Well, might as well find out. I took a goblet and sipped similarly. The beverage tasted like sparkling burgundy. I have had some experience with knockout drops, and this seemed innocent. Of course it was impossible to tell by taste alone.
Rose relented and took her own goblet, then a sweetbread. She glanced at me.
I set myself and launched into it. “As you surely know, there is a problem with assassinations. Possible claimants to the throne are being systematically eliminated. The king himself died recently, and I have been hired to help find his killer and bring him to justice. You are a suspect.”
“Of course I am,” Mephisto agreed equably.
“We found evidence implicating you.”
“Naturally. Yet you came here.”
“Because it looks to me like a frame,” I said. “I suspect that someone is trying to set claimants against each other, in the hope that they will do the assassin’s dirty work for him. I think we may be natural allies. Do you agree?”