Cascet of Souls

“When did you lose yours?”

Atre emptied the marble and ribbon into the rubbish basket among the fruit peelings and candle ends, then replaced

the empty phials in the case, and the case in its temporary hiding place, the one Brader knew about.

Brader watched, his face sad and devoid of the old hunger. It made Atre want to slap him. There had been a time when his cousin relished these draughts as much as Atre did. Now he pulled a sour face every time. Just as Brader’s brother Van had, before he’d given up and left them. Perhaps that was when Brader’s regrets began?

“We’re ru

“Ah, dear cousin. Think how many precious little ones could be spared with just one draught made from this lovely bauble,” Atre teased.

Lady Kylith was indeed a fine prospect, now that he didn’t need her money anymore-so many years, so many co

They’d taken a few powerful souls in Mycena-a few too many, as it turned out-but nothing to rival the potential he was reaping here in the Skalan capital, itself a nexus of great power. Even a noblewoman of modest rank like Kylith would be a veritable feast, and so generous with her little gifts, as were so many of her kind, ready to lavish a little something on the lapdog actor.

And he’d captured one of the greatest possible prizes. He smiled as he glanced down at Elani’s ring.

Brader sighed. “Take care, Atre, for all our sakes.”

Atre and Ta

A servant ushered them in and led them to the duke’s opulent salon. Atre had half expected to see Seregil and Alec among the guests, knowing that they were the duke’s friends, but they weren’t there. Laneus, Marquise Lalia, Duke Malthus, Duke Zymir, Duchess Nerian, and a fat, bluff man introduced to him as General Sarien sat on couches set up in a wide circle, drinking wine and eating nuts and fruit. Shells and peelings littered the floor.

“Ah, here they are!” Laneus exclaimed as Atre and Ta

Atre bowed. “We are honored, Your Grace.”

He and Ta

“Wonderful!” Duchess Nerian exclaimed, giving Ta

“I told you they are the best in the city,” said Duke Laneus, gifting Atre with a fine gold chain.

“You weren’t exaggerating their skills,” the general said, eyeing Ta

“Are you home from the front, my lord?” asked Atre, interested to meet another powerful personage.

“Oh, no,” the general replied. “I’m the Protector General, second to Prince Korathan himself in the defense of the Palace and city. This is my front in the war.”

“Please, go and refresh yourselves in the kitchen,” Laneus told the actors, as if it were an honor rather than the treatment one would give to a mountebank or tradesman.

Atre covered his a

the cook, to her credit, offered them a very fine venison pie and excellent wine. Still-in the kitchen!

While they were eating the cook and her scullion took their leave for the night, leaving them alone. Atre saw a chance and took it.

“You stay here,” he told Ta

“Where are you going?”

“Just to look in on our host and thank him for this fine repast.”

He gave her a wink and retraced his way to the salon. Finding the corridor deserted, he put his ear to the door.

“I don’t mean to offend, Malthus, but I begin to doubt your faith,” the fat general was saying.

“Just because I won’t go along with out-and-out murder?” Malthus replied. His voice was soft, but the actor could still hear the anger that edged his words. “Tell me, my friends: are we seriously contemplating that?”

Atre’s eyes widened. This was not at all the sort of conversation he’d expected. He held his breath and put his eye to the thin opening between the door and frame. Malthus was on his feet, pacing, while the others sipped their wine.

“A quick slice makes for the most successful surgery,” Duchess Nerian noted, swirling the wine in her cup. “We can’t simply ask Phoria to step aside, now can we?”

“And then there’s Elani to be dealt with, after that,” Duke Zymir said. A chill ran up Atre’s spine, thinking of the gracious young girl. If anyone was going to claim her life, it was going to be him! Anything else would be a ridiculous waste.

“Not if she were to have an unfortunate accident or illness,” Zymir replied. “Now that they’ve chosen to attack Klia herself!”

“The message said it was Plenimaran assassins,” said Malthus.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” asked Laneus. “No, I think the battle has been joined.”

“I wonder if an assassin could breach the Palace?” said Marquise Lalia.

“Perhaps that Rhiminee Cat fellow?” Sarien suggested. “By all reports the man can break in anywhere.”

“He’s no assassin, as far as I know.”

“But this is ridiculous!” Malthus objected again.

“You want Klia on the throne as badly as any of us, don’t you?” asked Laneus.

“Yes, of course, but-”

“Then don’t stand in our way.” That sounded like a threat, though the man’s cool smile never faltered. “But we do need someone close to her. Reltheus and Kyrin have Alaya in their snare. Perhaps one of the squires? Or-” He paused and turned to Malthus again. “What about that ’faie friend of yours, Lord Seregil, and his boy? Word is Elani is quite enchanted with them.”

“Seregil?” Lalia sneered. “I wouldn’t trust that wastrel with a half-sester piece. And he’s one of the greatest gossips in Rhiminee.”

“But he has excellent co

Malthus sighed. “I don’t know. He’s on good terms with Korathan, as well, and if word ever got to the vicegerent about any of this-” He shook his head. “Let me think on it. And for the love of Sakor, leave off this talk of killing! I thought our purpose was to protect Klia from Kyrin and his lot.”

Just then Atre heard footsteps approaching from the front hall and hastily retreated to the kitchen before he was seen. Ta

“Can we go now?” she asked with a yawn.

“Of course, my girl. Come and say your farewells.”

Atre made a point of conversing with her on the way back, to let Laneus and his conspirators know they were coming. He suspected neither of their lives would be worth much if the nobles knew what he’d heard.