The Mountebank

By Sara Tiger Ryan

The Wizard King of Conyor Ness sends his two best Relays, his daughter and son, Prince Nikari and Princess Nikeri, twins, to the Amethyst court to protect the Princess's ringfasted from an assassin. But someone seems determined that they will never make it.
Worn from their last Relay adventure, armed with scrying discs, the twins work to discover who their attacker is before they reach the Amethyst palace and before its too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Tiger Ryan
• Release date: Jul 2, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463355077

Sara Tiger Ryan

Sara Tiger Ryan was born in New Hampshire. She now lives in Florida with her 2 cats. Make that minus one charming boy cat, add in a Mama cat who brought me 5 kittens--all of them adorable! Sara started writing novels in 1973 in high school study hall and hasn't stopped (for long) yet. She started out writing fantasy and added mystery. She also writes metaphysical non-fiction. Ryan was active in the small press in the mid 90's, and had her own 'zine, Star Triad.

Book preview

Chapter 1 Keri

A Royal Pillow Fight

WizardWalkingDay

Her twin tackled her and stuffed a handful of feathers down her shirt. Keri squealed and retaliated by trying to pull the empty pillow casing over his head.

Princess Nikeri. Prince Nikari, a servant intoned from the sitting room doorway, your royal father wishes your immediate attendance at court.

Keri gave one more try at pillow casing her brother, then let him go and sprang up, straightening her well-rumpled skirt with a hasty shake, and not looking at the servant. If she did, she'd start laughing and wouldn't be able to stop.

Her brother, back-to the servant, winked, caught her arm, and Relayed them straight into the throne room.

Niki! Keri admonished, despite her gurgle of laughter for the shocked looks on the courtiers’ faces. Puffs of tiny white pillow feathers floated to the floor around them.

Niki ignored her and swept their father an elaborate bow.

Wizard Exalt King Nyyle Parcian Nederwyld Nyyle of Conyor Ness stifled a laugh, rolled his eyes, then turned formal. Daughter, I have had word from your ringfasted's court. It seems there have been several attempts on Prince Cheosarian's life over the past year, with no solution in sight. It has been suggested that I send my best pair of Relays, as a gesture of goodwill, to aid the Amethyst in their dilemma.

She didn't want to go. Besides, she had been ordered by her Relay master to rest. Or, maybe their father didn't mean her and Niki and it was only her pride that suggested he meant she and her twin were their extended family's best Relay team.

Which would be you two, the King continued, making her flush with pride-and worry about her Relay Master's reaction.

When confronted with the news, in the hallway just outside of court, Relay Master Gvinn used silent disapproval, his entire attention apparently consumed with removing a minute stray pillow feather from his impeccable and severely plain gray brushed-civlin suit.

I can rest when I get there, she said.

Master Gvinn didn't reply; he turned to her twin and said, You are late for practice. Go.

Keri took a breath to protest, and didn't.

Niki just turned, flushing slightly, and left, headed towards the practice salleas if her twin needed any more practice than she did or was any less tired.

She tried again to gather the courage to protest Master Gvinn's unfairness, but he had already turned away, back stiff as if they were being unfair to him. But, then, he always acted a bit testy after his annual pilgrimage to his son's grave.

Keri took a half step after her twin, then retreated, instead, to their combined sitting room where she fell onto the settee with a tired sigh. Niki's and her last Relay excursion had been their toughest assignment yet. Not even their Relay Master knew how toughdespite he realized how much energy it had taken from her.

From Niki, too, but Master Gvinn appeared to assume Niki shirking. Neither she nor her twin could figure why their Relay Master treated Niki so harshly.

At least they had finished the Relay appropriately and alive, and not one of the Deathmaster's living dead. Keri shuddered and hugged her arms over her face. Ending up in the Deathmaster's lair by mistake had been either a miscalculation or a purposeful mislead by whoever had provided their information. Both she and Niki thought purposeful, but neither had told anyone of that suspicion. At least not yet.

The whimpering man half turned into a dred hound on the Deathmaster's table had been the worst.

Keri doubled over, hugging herself, then sprang up, paced to the window, and leaned out, breathing deeply of the clean, fresh air. Rest. Ha! She could barely close her eyes without seeing that nightmare image, never mind if she dreamt and her mind produced worse. She leaned further out into the sun. She'd heard Amethyst was a fairly sunny country, and the climate consistently mild.

She paced from window to mantle, and stopped to admire the painting of the three Fair Fates and bask in their benevolent expressions. She and Niki had purchased the picturenot for the subject matter as much as because they both loved the artist, Tyrielin's, art. Tyrielin now lived in Amethyst. Maybe they would get to meet himassuming he still lived. Maybe Master Frey would know. Likely History Master Frey would give them some concentrated lessons on Amethyst over the next few weeks. Or she supposed they'd have a few weeks to prepare for their trip. She had people to say farewell to, in case she didn't return. Considering it was her bridegroom she was going to, she assumed everyone would expect her to stay.

She returned to the settee, curled up at one end, and held up her hand, inspecting the silver ringfasting band her Amethyst Prince had sent her—or had been sent in his name. It was the plainest piece of jewelry she owned.

Since she had never met Prince Cheosarian, she didn't feel one way or the other about him. One couldn't trust the miniature portrait sent, of course. In it, he had sort of green hair and muddy eyes. She hoped not.

After her father had agreed to the betrothal, the ring had arrived able to fit her big toe—so maybe it had been sent by her Prince . . . directly from his finger. Even on her middle finger, with a wrapping of silver wire to keep it on that finger, the ring looked clunky, but on a man, the band would seem thin. If the handbinding band, which would go on her wrist, matched, she'd develop bulging muscles just lifting her arm.

Even before her father had become King, she'd assumed she would end up in a political marriage. So would Niki, despite neither one of them would rule after their father; Conyor Ness politics didn't work that way. In another five years, at the end of their father's ten-year reign, the Wizard Elite, Elite, Exalt, and Upper Select would elect another King—or Queen—from one of the other eight Families.

A distinctive scratch at the door pulled a face from her, but she acknowledged her social secretary with his name, Whitewell.

Whitewell sidestepped into the doorway, his long, pinched nose twitching agitatedly. He set several folded pages on the small table by the door, then straightened, facing her but not looking at her. I am forced, Princess, to rework your social schedule with you.

I was just wondering when we were expected to leave, she answered, ignoring his put-upon attitude and that he didn't carry her social register.

Princess, he answered stiffly, apparently taking her words as a slight upon his efficiency. He bowed himself punctiliously out.

She made a face after him. Barring her prissy social secretary and the several unpleasant members of court—soon to double for Season, she would rather stay here. From the betrothal missives sent by the King of Amethyst (He was King for life, and his son, Cheosarian's twin, Sohosarian, after him.) she had thought the Amethyst King meant to send Prince Cheosarian here. Although, she supposed, it would be a political mess if Prince Cheosarian came here only to find his stalker had followed and he got killed here.

She glanced at the pile of, likely, invitations Whitewell had left. The bright pink page would be from her current best friend, Jalsy, firming their plans to see the new Ai'Bet street play—which rumor said depicted her and Niki's first Relay adventure. Though really, Master Gvinn's son, Koral, had been in charge. Keri grimaced. Only an Ai'Bet would have made a spoof about rescuing a Lady from one of their (meaning the Ai'Bet's) slavemasters. True, she and Niki had bungled nearly every move, and the slavemasters go-betweens had dressed in motley, but she and Niki had returned the lady to her tearful family, and Koral had gotten—even if only in a foolish accident—one of the slaver's motleys. If only he hadn't died doing so.

A copper orphan for your thoughts, her twin said from her sitting room doorway.

Kettle of Fish, she answered, giving the name of the play.

He laughed and offered her a gold grande to fame instead, then came in and dropped next to her with a tired groan.

You shouldn't be Relaying alone, she ventured.

He rested his head against the back of the settee. Master Gvinn thinks I should; he's right in a way.

Relays are developed in teams for a reason, she answered, ignoring the five Relays who worked as loners (but only because they couldn't mesh talents with anyone else enough to become a team). He said so himself.

That's old ground. He closed his eyes, silent until she leaned her head on his shoulder. He sighed and slid his arm around her. How are you doing?

The same. Every time I close my eyes—awake or asleep—it's a nightmare.

I know what you mean. He stirred and rang for a servant. Let's pool what we remember about Amethyst instead.

I assume the tutors—

I want to gather up what we know first: rumors, gossip, and all. He paused as a servant appeared in the doorway and ordered a pot of restoration tea. The servant bowed slightly and backed out. Most salient point, Niki said: The new Goddess.

I wish she would do something about her Adherents, Keri complained. I encountered a group preaching in the market last trip out and wanted to bash their dense, pious little heads together.

Luckily the Adherent religion will hardly catch on here, Niki returned humorously.

Keri laughed in agreement, but said, Some of the working class might.

Until they want to form a promise-knot and pool their resources.

What about—

A tap at the hall door interrupted and Retired Relay Master Darale called in, I have your tea with me, and some biscuits.

I hope they aren't any you made, Keri replied lightly, but truthfully—which Master Darale took as an invitation to enter.

On the silver tray he carried resided a teapot and a plate of magical, condensed biscuits that replaced physical energy and tasted disgusting. Master Darale set the tray on the low table in front of the settee, and eased into the dragon-winged chair across from them.

As a child, she had adored the ancient Relay Master; she still enjoyed his company. He reminded her of the story of the cloth leaper that became real only when entirely tattered, with most of his buttons worn off. The state of Master Darale's shirt buttons echoed the tale. His wife had passed six years ago and he had no inclination to sew his own buttons.

Master Darale looked the total opposite of their current, neat and severely dressed Relay master. Where Master Gvinn wore shades of gray civlin exclusively and high-polished boots, Master Darale usually sported a rainbow hue of colors and brightly beaded, wide slippers with pointed toes.

Master Darale shuffled his slipper-encased feet a moment, made a face and settled back.

Use the table, Niki invited, who knew as well as her how much Master Darale's feet hurt after he'd had them nearly crushed in a trap his last working Relay four years ago.

It isn't fitting, Master Darale said, even as he put his feet up on the table with a contented breath. I came to see how you two were doing at resting. Not well, I see, and your father expects a long trip and another magical rescue out of you.

Keri said nothing. Niki ducked his head.

As good at what he does as Master Gvinn is, he only sees the middle, ignores the obvious, and wouldn't know the subtle if it bit his behind.

They both stifled laughs, then she remembered and poured three cups of tea. Whether he needed it or not, Master Darale enjoyed a cup of liquor spiked restoration tea.

Master Darale continued, Likely that comes from starting out as a Warrior Mage; they train a body in magic like you'd train a overly dense blacksmith's apprentice. Master Darale stopped to accept his tea, then settled back in the chair, silent, sipping and watching them.

Keri avoided his gaze; he would guess too much if she met his eyes. She asked to distract him, How is Mistress Hilmary?

Once retired, Master Darale had turned considerable attention to wooing Mistress Hilmary, a thin, precise woman who taught Relay novices herbology (including poisons and their antidotes). Even after three years, he had yet to coax Mistress Hilmary to agree to ringfast him.

Do you need me to order you a tisane to help you sleep? Master Darale asked instead of answering.

No. Her word had sounded too much like a yelp.

Master Darale frowned, but turned to Niki for answers, not asking aloud, just waiting.

Niki shook his head. I don't think either one of us can talk about it yet.

That's when you most need to talk. I've read the report Master Gvinn wrote, and yours. Master Darale set his teacup down and said, Facts: There is a wide discrepancy, my dears, between what the reports say you encountered and how back-in-the-bones-worn you both are.

Which might be why Master Gvinn hadn't let Niki rest, as he needed to: because he believed his own report. No, Master Gvinn never took Niki's need for rest seriously. Why? She lifted her head to ask Master Darale and didn't.

He ended his list of facts with, You two are not looking more rested, you are looking less rested. He gazed at her, waiting for her to speak. The silent prompting brought her memories back; she set her cup down before her hand could start shaking, and leaned against her twin.

Master Darale frowned hard, but didn't speak. Keri tucked her face down against her brother's shoulder. Niki, hand shaking slightly, set his own cup down and patted her knee.

Now, this does look quite a bit more serious than even I had guessed. Can you Relay down to the Landing Room?

Keri didn't move. But the answer was no, not on her own.

I just finished drill with Relay Kadwell, Niki replied levelly. No.

Master Darale blew his breath out. You. Should. Not. Be Relaying at all right now, practice or no. His tone blamed Niki.

Master Gvinn— she began, then stopped at Niki's light touch. But it was too late, now Master Darale would have a word with Master Gvinn, who would take it out on Niki.

I'll have a word with Master Gvinn.

Neither of them protested; Master Darale wouldn't listen.

Mistress Hilmary made our tea, and she is quite well, thank you. Now eat two biscuits a piece so you two will make it through supper at court, and expect a nasty breakfast tomorrow morning in your room.

They both groaned, knowing from experience what the nasty breakfast would contain: foods to replace their energy reserves: more nasty biscuits smeared with a nut-butter that glued one's mouth shut, and a potent decoction of unknown—except to Master Darale and Mistress Hilmary—ingredients that would leave them jittery and slightly queasy all morning.

After several minutes of silence, Master Darale said, You two did officially close the adventure, didn't you?

Of course, she answered. You did teach us our first two years. How could we forget the tri-fold drill? Open with magic, close with magic, and do whatever needs to be done to stay alive between.

Good, Master Darale approved, then said, Leaving a Relay Adventure open has been known to drain a Relay Team's energy. A teacher always has to ask the stupid questions his too-wise students would never ask themselves. Master Darale finished his tea and stood, paused, and eyed them. Biscuits.

They obediently chose a biscuit, both reaching for the smallest—which Niki conceded to her. She nibbled the edges and tried to swallow without tasting.

At least Master Darale's biscuits and tea didn't last a candlemark; Master Gvinn preferred a long, drawn out, excruciatingly boring energy-replacing-tea ceremony with those biscuits. Maerker, their oldest Relay, had started the tradition of sneaking Rook Beat Revel into the tea. The not-very-good Amethyst liquor didn't improve the flavor of the thick, black tea, but by the end of the cup, one generally felt too good to care.

Don't be shy, Master Darale prompted.

Niki chose the second smallest biscuit, then made outrageous eyes at the ancient Relay Master and drawled, Why, Uncle Darale, no one's ever accused me of being shy before.

Master Darale laughed, then shook his finger at Niki. You behave now, sonny; I'm probably really your great grandfather.

They all laughed. Though Master Wizard Trefrill, their Archivist and Genealogist claimed all the Relays had Nyyle blood, most Relays weren't direct Family. She, her twin, and father were the only Family. Her mother, indirect family, teamed with her father. The other two teams had no apparent family connection. Only two of the loners came from close family—Niki's nemesis, Parsnar, for one, and their newest student, a young precocious girl, Chaisary, the other.

Chuckling under his breath, Master Darale shuffled into the hall, saying over his shoulder, I'll send some Dreamless by tonight in case you think that would help.

The potion Dreamless would help, she knew from experience, but the waking would be horrendous, partly because the drug left her groggy and disoriented. Niki squeezed her hand saying silently he'd stay with her the night if she wanted. Yes, she did, and it was something to look forward to. A full night's sleep without waking with a start in a cold sweat would be a wonder.

As soon as Master Darale shut the door behind him, she offered, I'll do the same for you tomorrow night.

I'll take you up on that, sister dear. I doubt if I've been having any less nightmares than you. Niki took the second ordered biscuit and nibbled the edge. Give me an overview of what we're walking into, he said, returning to the subject of Amethyst.

You took the same history lesson I did.

He half-grinned. Yes, but I didn't have any reason to listen to them. You did. He freshened their tea and toasted her with his cup. To my favorite and talented sister.

Amethyst, she said, then parodied Master Darale's favorite line, Facts: phobias, tunnel-vision; beer and wine of foremost concern, people second; their new Goddess. She paused. We could talk to the Amethyst Ambassador.

That ought to give us a nice biased version.

What about the person by the door? She asked, reverting to their last Relay. I don't think it was a female, no matter how it dressed and acted.

Transporter? Niki suggested, referring to the fact the person had vanished without moving, leaving them, separately, wondering if they had seen anyone at all. They hadn't mentioned the vanishing person to each other until after the report to Master Gvinn.

It didn't look Gallimaufry.

Sri Posh.

She made a face. Not unless it was a time traveler.

Niki laughed. Probably not, then. He paused, then said as if to remind himself, Our job wasn't to stop the Deathmaster. That needs a few full-fledged wizards.

And then some. They had barely escaped with their lives and their client's.

Rumor says the Deathmaster is the goddess in the Heartpeace religion.

It's a wonder it isn't the goddess in the Adherent religion, too, considering.

It does seem outrageous to consider one's gods and goddesses just leaving, he said, speaking of the Adherent religion's stand that their deities hadn't really just left them in the less than capable hands of the new Amethyst Goddess.

If you turn Adherent, Nikari Sian, I will never speak to you again.

He tweaked her nose. Never fear, I am far too fond of mixed threesomes to become a pious, monogamous Adherent.

Speaking of mock-pious, if that pig of a Lower Select Thado Kletcher slobbers at me again, I'll do something regretful and permanent to him.

Niki laughed again. You are a woman with great fortitude not to have done so already. Maybe we can get him and Priccin Gly together—

Niki, ugh, no, think of how indescribably ugly the children would be, never mind their personalities.

Speaking of which— He began. The first bell rang, calling them down to court and dinner. He said nothing more, only stood and offered her a hand to her feet.

Chapter 2 Niki

Court Games

Niki ducked into his bathing room, closed the door, and pulled his vial of an imported potion called Shael's Song from behind a loose stone in the wall. He touched the dropper lightly to his tongue. The scarlet potion spread in a tingle from there throughout his body. He stayed with half-closed eyes waiting while the potion eased sore muscles and gave him an overlay of energy—enough to make it through court intact. Without the potion, he would have been sleeping most of the day and night, no matter how caustic Master Gvinn's assessment of him. With luck, since they wouldn't be Relaying, the trip to Amethyst would give him time to rest.

To bring all his sister's necessary wardrobe would take several wagons, never mind his wardrobe, since he didn't intend to stint on elegant outfits either—or favorite pillows and comforters. Add into that their maids and lads, their escort, and whoever else his father deemed necessary to accompany them to Amethyst. Oh, and gifts for the Amethyst royal family, and in-case gifts for whoever else. They probably ought to bring food, considering Amethyst had been having famines . . . and still putting most of their efforts into their beer and wine crops.

He wondered what Amethyst was really like. Rumors had it devastated by the new Goddess's willful magic, but, thinking, if the old deities had just dumped the country's reigns of magic suddenly in her hands, he was surprised she had been able to keep the country together at all. He certainly wouldn't want to dive into god-level magic untrained.

Master Niki? his valet called in.

Niki started, rubbed his hand across his face, realized he could feel his valet's mood far too clearly, and reset a few layers of his heart shields before he exited the bathing room.

Dark Fates, he'd nearly fallen asleep even after taking Shael's Song. He'd better make time to rest on their trip if it didn't just happen, or he'd be of no use to his sister in Amethyst. He paused and let his valet fuss with the collar of his tunic: sapphire blue silk, since Keri had said she planned to wear her matching gown. If their clothes matched, it presented a united front and the court nasties hesitated at least an eyeblink before attacking them. Too bad they couldn't figure an outfit that would make the fawning courtiers hesitate. Knives, chains, eye patches, and slashed leather might work.

Niki laughed to himself, thinking of his delicate and pretty sister dressed like a working pirate, then of how there would be a court session just before they left . . . His father would laugh, even if no one else did.

The noise level in the scarlet and gold draped dining court made his head pang as he entered. Ornate gold gilt, maroon velvet cushioned benches lined all four walls, and a few matrons and their charges