Medilus 3, 1278: Upstairs in the Court of Lemongrass Inn. Arth Prayogar—a few minutes later. Truth doesn’t like being denied, even by history…

I gave the centaur a sharp-edged smile. He tensed. Flipping my dirt-stained braid over my shoulder, I crossed my arms.

“Talk? Good idea! Why have the Trade-Wardens been killing themselves in secret trying to seal off the Temple of the Slithering Sun?” I raised my eyebrows at the Trade-Warden. “I thought local law put all those ruins off-limits. Let’s start there. That’s a good spot.”

All eyes turned toward Rhen Shotho as he fidgeted under the attention—pawing the wooden floor with a hoof. Then the Trade-Warden sucked in a slight breath, narrowing his eyes with a fragile smile.

“Well… er… that’s not—”

I cut his hesitation off at its brown, furry knees. There wasn’t time for that sort of nonsense. Besides, I felt like I’d left my patience alone in a room for two days until it turned a little feral.

“Oh, no.” I shook a finger at him. “For days we’ve been poked and prodded like funny-shaped bread dough. So, I think that is a great place to start. Especially since no one was supposed to know how to get in there!”

The Trade-Warden glanced at the others around the room. Muffled calls from vendors in the market below hummed in the air. It wove together with scents of grilled vegetables and passing livestock—life moving forward as if nothing was wrong. My stomach wanted to comment on the lack of attention, but I ignored the complaints.

A web of silence slowly stretched between us until it almost snapped. Rhen pinched the bridge of his nose, blowing out a weary sigh—one that came from carrying something heavy. His smile frayed at the edges.

“Ladies? Gentlemen? Pardon me,” he said, crossing over to the balcony of Skarri’s room.

He eased the cream, gauzy curtains aside, nodding to the market below. Across the road, past the mid-morning crowds, a pair of Trade-Wardens nodded back. They split up, watching the crowd. I’d seen this before. They were keeping the inn under close guard.

Rhen turned around, letting the curtain fall back into place. With a grunt, he stamped a hoof lightly against the floor, tail swatting at the air. The centaur had a pinched look like he’d eaten a fresh lemon.

For some reason, I had the impression he was about to share that feeling.

“I would’ve preferred to do this someplace more secure than the Lemongrass.” He pursed his lips with another look around the room.

Kiyosi clasped his hands behind him, tail swishing the air.

“Oh, you mean like the Shackle?” he deadpanned.

“That place is not very secure,” Atha rumbled, sipping tea with a scholarly expression. “I only help two—maybe three—guards take good nap to rethink their lives. Then we walk right out. It was very disappointing. I do not recommend.”

Rhen rolled his eyes.

“Most don’t know this, but the Trade-Wardens lost control of Shendril Fortress some years ago.” He waved a hand in the general direction of the prison. “We’ve a token force there, and really only have sway over one block of cells near the gate. The Merchant Herds subdivided the rest for themselves. Large sections of Shendril are poorly guarded or abandoned.”

Tension made my right eye twitch, and I desperately wanted a bath. Sleeping on the floor of an abandoned warehouse did that to a person.

“Fine. That explains why no one saw me get locked up in there. But back to the point, just why have your people been killing themselves off in Toshirom Ifoon?” I said, dragging the conversation back on topic.

The centaur’s mouth pulled into a thin line.

“There’s a lot but I’ll make it quick…” he indicated Skarri “…and her shaman knows some of this already. The Trade-Wardens were formed by the surviving viprin shamans before there was a Jata kingdom. We were told to keep Toshirom Ifoon’s wards intact, and the temple sealed. We’ve been at it in secret for centuries.” He shook his head. “The Merchant Herd doesn’t know—neither does the ruling council.”

I really didn’t know what to say to that. Neither did anyone else.

That admission swept over us like a cold draft of air. Kiyosi raised his eyebrows, letting out a low whistle as his whip-tail swayed. Others, like Skarri, gave the Trade-Warden a tense stare. I scowled like a thundercloud. Atha, well, didn’t seem that bothered.

After a moment, Mikasi nodded thoughtfully, scratching the salt and pepper stubble on his chin.

“For centuries?” He echoed. “But not now? What changed?”

“We’re not sure.” Rhen shuffled his hooves as if he wanted to pace, but the room—with us in it—wasn’t quite large enough. “They’ve been failing over the past year. We’ve sent Trade-Wardens in to reset the wards…” he pulled in a heavy breath, lightly stamping a hoof “… you saw the result. It’s as if something is eroding them faster than we can restore them.”

That struck a minor chord in my head, dredging up the unpleasant conversation I’d had with Rima.

“The lich,” I said, frowning. “It has to be her. We all know Rima Nimad has been running a Fateweaver cult here in Arth Prayogar. She didn’t know where the Iraxi bracers were stashed—just that they were here somewhere. Now I’m thinking that cult was her using death and blood magic to erode those wards.”

“But you said she didn’t know where they were,” Rhen countered.

I shook my head. “Not sure that mattered. I’d bet she’s been releasing death and blood magic threads into the ruins outside the city. Not that I’m an expert… but those would be drawn to the Iraxi since they’re tuned for that.”

The air went still as if the world forgot to breathe.

“Tuned for death and blood magics?” Kiyosi asked slowly.

“Er… yeah,” I winced. “Rima didn’t tell me the details, but the Iraxi are based on her formula to make a lich.” I mimed plucking something from the palm of one hand, then tossing it aside. “Only it was done to fire elementals.”

If the world had forgotten to breathe before, now it wheezed. I tried for an uneasy smile.

“What?” Skarri hissed, wide-eyed in horror.

Kiyosi pinned Rhen Shotho with a hard stare. “That. Maybe your Trade-Wardens could have warned us about that.”

In his defense, Rhen looked just as horrified as he raised his hands in front of him.

“How could we? That’s not in any of our Trade-Warden records about the thing.”

Then everyone started talking at once, turning the room into a tornado of noise. I tensed as aches and fatigue roared back to life. A headache threatened to join them. After a deep breath, I let out a shrill whistle. Quiet slammed down onto the room as everyone looked at me. I grimaced at the attention, but got on with the moment.

“Given how Rima acted when I was in the cell with her, I doubt anyone who isn’t a lich knew. So, yes, it’s horrible—really horrible—but we’ll fix it later.”

“How?” Kiyosi asked slowly, tail swatting the air.

“I have no idea,” I sighed. “But right now, Herd Tolvana has one of the Iraxi bracers. I just know Auditor Elkerton will be stupid enough to use it.” I rubbed both hands over my face. “Last time that man ranted at me, it was pretty clear he intends to put Herd Tolvana—and himself—in control of things around here.”

Rhen nodded, jaw tight.

“I know Gregori Elkerton, and yes, that would make sense. Especially since Herd Tolvana is Second Herd right now.”

The rest of us swapped a confused look. Rhen waved a hand to fend off questions as a fresh breeze off the market fluttered the curtains behind him.

“The Council of Seven elects a chancellor. Tanis Fel of Herd Calandras is the current one. That makes them First Herd. Tolvana nearly won the seat, so they’re Second.”

“Oh.” Skarri nodded wearily, reflexively massaging the scales of a forearm. “So if something happened to the current chancellor…”

Rhen finished her thought. “… Herd Tolvana would become First Herd, selecting a new chancellor from their auditors.”

“Elkerton,” I growled, saying the name like a curse.

“There’s a good chance of that.” The Trade-Warden sighed heavily, resting his hands on his belt. “Especially if he takes credit for recovering a near-priceless viprin relic.” He shrugged. “It would open a lot of powerful doors.”

“What if they selected him as the next chancellor?” Mikasi asked, worry shading his face.

The centaur shook his head, pawing a hoof on the floor.

“Nothing good. As chancellor, he could suspend the Council of Seven in a crisis.”

“You mean a coup,” Kiyosi said, words tight.

Atha grunted thoughtfully. “How does lich fit in all this? She just an evil-bodied advisor?”

The conversation with Rima played out again in my mind, feeling like an itch I couldn’t scratch. Pieces I’d missed before suddenly stood out in stark relief.

“Fear,” I said after a moment.

“What?” Skarri asked, scaled eyebrow ridges pinched.

“Fear,” I repeated. “Rima won’t ever use the Iraxi herself, but she’ll talk Elkerton into using the thing. Then, once he’s chancellor, she’ll kill him or have him killed. After that, I bet she steps in to take his place,” I said darkly. “That is, if Elkerton hasn’t found a way to destroy her first.”

“She has your journals,” Kiyosi said, gesturing at me. “I bet that’s a distraction to keep you out of the way. You’re the biggest threat she has. She knows you’ve killed a lich before, but not how you did it.”

“It’s worse than that,” Rhen said. “There’s been an emergency meeting called for the Council of Seven in two days. Members who aren’t already in Arth Prayogar will be on their way from Arth Calelos and Arth Akeall by now.”

“Joy,” I grumbled, clenching my jaw.

“Could we still sneak in disguised?” Mikasi asked.

“Your shaman could still get an audience with the Council,” Rhen said thoughtfully. “Him and anyone known to be in his retinue.”

I sucked in a long breath, rubbing the sides of my head. Nerves churned my stomach like a rattling waterwheel.

“All right, how about this? I go in with Liru and guards. They know me as part of his retinue, and I’ll be a fantastic distraction,” I suggested.

“I’m going as well,” Skarri added. Before I said a word, she slapped the end of her tail against the bed. “Don’t you dare say it,” she snapped with a hiss. Then she gestured to the bandages around her scaled right arm and those that vanished under her tunic across her chest. “I’m hurt but not made of glass. They’ll expect me to be there because I’m one of the Samal Liru’s guards. Besides, I will not just sit here while all of you take the risk.”

I might have a habit of jumping out windows, but I knew when to back down.

A sly smile crept over her scaled lips. “Also, they’ll underestimate me because I’m bandaged.”

Mikasi glanced at Skarri, eyebrows slammed together. “Be careful?”

“Oh, of course,” she replied gently.

I smirked a little at the two of them, but got back to our half-baked plan at hand.

“All right,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “Ki? That means just a disguise for Atha, Mikasi, and… well… Garrik if he cooperates.”

Kiyosi eyed both Mikasi and Atha appraisingly.

“It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good,” I said with a nod. “Once inside, mingle with the staff. Get close to Elkerton and clog the Iraxi with… whatever Mikasi mixes up.”

Rhen cleared his throat. “I’ll have Trade-Wardens in the Council chambers. It’s normal for emergency meetings like this. Once Herd Tolvana tries anything, we’ll step in to try and escort the chancellor out.”

“What about lich?” Atha rumbled. “No way she stand by and just applaud.”

No one replied, not even me.

I reached up, tugging at my braid as I glanced at the ceiling. The scuffle I had with Rima in the Mandami Hills loomed large in my thoughts—that fight had been rough.

“Leave Rima Nimad to me,” I said, staring off into the middle distance. “I’ve an idea that might work.”

A tiny sigh bubbled out of my chest. I’d killed one lich a year ago. Somehow I knew stopping a second one wouldn’t be easier.

I looked around the room at my group of co-conspirators.

“So, everyone ready to steal a coup?”

Kiyosi shook his head a little, but I saw the ghost of a smile on his face.

“We’re really doing this?” he asked—I could tell it wasn’t a real question.

I grinned back at my oldest friend in the world.

“Yes, we are. Preserve history to secure the future.” My grin widened. “Maybe also applying the boot of common sense to the backside of evil.”

“It’s the Windtracer way…” Kiyosi chuckled dryly.