Exploitable Weaknesses by Brian Keller (red queen free ebook txt) 📗

was a mix of regret and dread. Her hesitation brought an angry outburst from the professor, eager to intimidate someone so he could feel powerful, “Well?! Answer me!” Wen looked even more uncomfortable but she didn’t reply. The professor wheeled back to face Iona, “Can you explain it?” Iona shrugged, “She transferred much of her energy to you. A significant amount, as I’m sure you noticed. It traveled through you, after all.” She had tried to avoid sounding smug, and almost succeeded.

The professor looked from one to the other of them and back, accompanied by rapid series of questions. To Iona, “How? Did you know she could do this?” To Wen, “You had to know you could do this. How else would you know to try? You’ve concealed this? For how long?” Before Wen could even form any reply, he’d turned back to Iona, “How long have you known?” Wen appeared relieved that his withering glare was no longer directed at her. Iona’s reply was a little more glib than she intended, but only a little, “Known? I learned it tonight. Same as you.” Iona arched an eyebrow and glanced at Wendalia, “But I’ve always sensed something different about her Talent. I wondered if it might be something like this but it was never my place to speculate, or present my own opinions and observations…as you were always so fond of reminding me.” Despite the darkness, she could see the blood vessels at the professor’s temples actually pulsing, but she felt no accumulation of power in response to his growing rage. He turned on his heel, twirling his cape as he spun. He’d taken a step before he spoke, “If the trail is cold then we’re going back to the University! All of you.” He didn’t turn to face Iona, instead he spoke over his shoulder, malice dripping from his voice like syrup, “I’m sure you’ll have no difficulties managing your own way back, but what is to be done with the corpse?” The clomping of armored boots was audible to the south and east, and it grew louder by the second. Iona smiled, “Yes, sir. I believe I hear my escort now. I’m sure we’ll find a way to manage.”

By the time the mages were out of sight, Iona was already issuing orders. She informed the soldiers, “The Royal Spymaster has been killed and his killer has fled. Some of you will need to either carry his body back, or stand guard over it until he can be retrieved; I care not which. I also need an escort to the Palace. The prince needs to be informed, and I also should deliver this.” She held up the tube for emphasis. The Sergeant of the Watch squinted, “That looks like a Courier tube, miss. Is the Guild involved somehow?” She nodded, “I’d say that’s a fair certainty, but it’s the Prince’s decision what’s to be done with the message. Will you assign soldiers to escort me, please? Or shall I return to the Palace alone?” The sergeant pointed to a small group of soldiers, “Corporal, you and your squad escort her back. Be watchful. It wouldn’t do any of us any good to lose them both in the same night.” Truth be told, she was relieved to have a squad of soldiers charged with her safety, with all the excitement she wasn’t even sure about how to get back to the river.

She walked in the midst of them, blindly making her way closer, step by step. Her mind was fully occupied reliving everything she’d just witnessed. When they crossed the second set of bridges, north from the Grid into the Palace District, she realized she needed to get her thoughts in order so she could relay the events to the Prince. He would have to be awakened, no doubt, and she didn’t know how he might react to that. She panicked for a moment, thinking, “I don’t even know how to address him! ‘Your Royal Highness’?... ‘Your Majesty’ seems like something reserved for his father, the King. ‘My Prince’? He might take offense at being referred to so directly.” She resolved to pay more attention to titles and political offices, assuming she still had a home in the Palace when the sun rose a few hours from now.

Her escort led her to the doors to the Council Chamber. The soldiers spoke a few brief words to the guards, who then opened the doors to allow her inside. The corporal followed her only for a few steps, far enough for his eyes to take in all the grandeur of the room, then he informed her, “Wait here. I’ll see that the Prince knows you’re here with urgent news. If he demands an explanation, which I expect he will, I’ll inform him of the Spymaster’s death but I know little else to tell. In my limited experience, I’ll suggest that you don’t waste your time with lengthy explanations. Tell him what he needs to know, he’ll ask for clarification on whatever else he wants.”

As he closed the doors behind him, her thoughts lingered on the corporal, “He seemed educated and well-spoken; almost like an officer.” She cast those musings from her mind. She needed to focus on the circumstances at hand. She wandered around the room, looking to see whether she might learn anything that might help her with the situation that she’d found herself facing. The furnishings and decorations in the room were selected and arranged more to demonstrate function and a certain sense of pragmatism, more than wealth and power. That was not to say that the appearance of wealth was absent, the coin generated from the sale of a single chair could probably feed a small family for a season, and there were over a dozen chairs, but there were no elaborate chandeliers or brocade rugs. The floor was roughly polished stone and the room was lit by lanterns hanging from simple sconces. She