Agent of the Dragon
Chapter 31

Rhysa sought out Dyram the next morning. She found him in the circular room discovered the day before. “How are you feeling?”

“Still a little overwhelmed. I can see why experience is an effective payment for a ghost. It could easily get addicting.”

“It happens now and then, but the person sharing the experiences has to be conscious and willing, which helps keep such addictions down.” Rhysa laughed. “I’ve known ghosts to try to force it, but it doesn’t usually end well--for the ghost. The person invariably shares their worst experiences, which usually leaves the ghost in tears or shaking with fear. Few ghosts try it a first time, I’ve never heard of a ghost trying it twice.”

Dyram smirked. “I can imagine why. What you shared with me was intense enough. I’d hate to imagine what it would feel like to relive someone’s worst memories.”

Rhysa grinned. “Let me know if you want to try it.” She sobered. “I need to ask a favor of you.”

“If I can.”

“I need you to take a message to someone in the city. I know you won’t be able to carry a physical message, but speaking to this person should be good enough.”

“I can do that.”

“The person I need you to visit is Tamos Atherin. He’s a tailor. His studio is probably warded, so you’ll have to fully manifest and use the door normally. I want you to tell him of the contents of the message we looked at yesterday. Make sure he realizes The Primacy could become a serious threat to Ellendahl.”

“Why will he trust me?”

“I’ll give you the code words before you go. It shouldn’t be a problem. Have you ever been that far from your place of death?” He shook his head, and she continued. “You’ll feel a bit of a strain. It’ll feel like you’re being stretched, or as if you’re not all there, even when you’re fully manifested. Don’t worry. Nothing will be missing.”

“This ought to be interesting.”

Rhysa smiled at him. She was relieved he wasn’t treating her any differently. After receiving some of her memories, he doubtless realized who she really was. She was still a little uncomfortable with having revealed herself, but his actions before and since made it a little easier to bear. “Now for the passwords that will let him know you’re acting for me. First, make sure he’s alone, then ask for Mr. Drake....”

Mieryth’s new duties as Assistant Castellan were much more interesting than those of personal maid. She enjoyed not having to put up with Taryn’s constant sniping and suspicions. What really made it a good day was Taryn’s obvious dissatisfaction with having to do for herself again. When Camyrn returned that afternoon, Mieryth nearly laughed out loud as Taryn’s expression revealed she finally realized Mieryth would no longer be under her constant scrutiny.

On this first day as Assistant Castellan, Mieryth mainly followed Armina around to get a general idea of how her days went. To her great relief, everyone she spoke with was thrilled at the shift in position--though often for different reasons. Crysta flung her arms around Mieryth, squealing with joy at Mieryth’s change in fortune. Sterling gave her a hug and made it known he, for one, was going to enjoy Taryn’s discomfort.

Though her day was busy, Mieryth found she wasn’t exhausted at the end of the day; the change in duties, and the welcome and genuine pleasure of the other staff, kept her energized. Nevertheless, she was ready to go to bed at the end of the day when Dyram showed up.

He came ghosting through the wall as usual. His expression, however, garnered Rhysa’s full attention. She waited patiently for him to begin on his own.

“I found him.” Dyram’s voice was slow and quiet. Rhysa bit her tongue to keep from pestering him to hurry up. He gave a weak laugh. “I guess someone didn’t like the job he did on their formal outfit.” There was a long pause. “He was lying in a lake of his own blood, no sign of a struggle.” Dyram took a deep breath. “He’d been killed recently, the magic barriers were fading, but not yet gone. They’d faded enough I could search for hidden rooms and compartments. I found a compartment containing a missive for you. All it said was Elise had disappeared and foul play is suspected.”

Rhysa sat slowly on her bed. Her contact was dead--murdered by someone who knew he worked for Ellendahl’s royal family. It left her vulnerable. If they’d figured out he was a contact, had they figured out who reported to him? Were they, even now, hunting her down? Her life was in danger, her task threatened. She didn’t even know who to watch out for. She closed her eyes and pushed the fear away. It left reluctantly, only to be replaced by the image of a woman laughing with joy at dinner as she sat across from Rhysa.

Rhysa doubled over, her arms clutched over her stomach. Iron bands wrapped her heart and she shook uncontrollably. The pain was too great to allow tears. Her mouth gaped and a silent keening came out. She rocked back and forth on her bed. Even the shifting of the bed as someone settled nearby barely registered. Arms gathered her, and she leaned against comforting solidity. The pressure inside was too great to hold, but her constricted throat wouldn’t let her express her pain. Someone stroked her hair, murmured soothing words of support. The touch of that caring hand cracked the barrier in her throat and a quiet wail escaped.

She leaned against that warm strength and wailed her pain in tones scarcely louder than a voiced breath. Strong arms held her as she shook under torrents of pain and grief and guilt. Elise was an excellent fighter, but no match for the caliber of enemies Rhysa was pitted against. She could have insisted Elise join her, they could have come up with a different cover story. She could have arranged for a watch to be kept over her.

Rhysa struggled with deep-seated guilt, feeling she’d betrayed and abandoned her closest friend. She knew Elise had fallen in love with her. On some levels, she returned that love, but had not acted on it. And now, Elise was gone, missing, possibly dead like Rhysa’s contact for being close to a Royal Agent.

In the end, it was Rhysa’s own exhausted body that broke the seemingly eternal rounds of guilt and anguish. Muscles tensed too long relaxed and she breathed deeply. The inrush of air cleared her head slightly, and she was able to turn her head in the lap of the person who had held her. She looked up into Dyram’s awed brown eyes.

“I’ve heard of such pain, but I never thought.... I locked the door.” Dyram’s voice was quiet but reassuring. “You’re exhausted.” He brushed hair out of her face. “Get some sleep. I will stay and watch.”

Rhysa sat up with effort, and Dyram de-manifested, his eyes going corpse-white once more. It’s funny, thought Rhysa, those eyes will scare most people. But to me, they offer a comfort I’ve only felt a few times before. She stood and began to undo her blouse.

Dyram turned his back, more for the sake of traditional propriety than fear of embarrassing himself or her. After sharing her experiences, he knew she was far from body-shy; but she had just suffered a major shock, and he thought she might appreciate the mental privacy of not being watched as she bared herself. When he heard the shifting of sheets and blanket, and the settling of the bed, he turned around.

Rhysa pulled the blanket to her chin and let herself sink into the bed. Exhausted, emotions raw, and body trembling, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The rustle of clothing let her know someone knelt next to the bed. She felt the pressure of lips on her forehead.

“Sleep. I will watch the night.”

Rhysa let herself fall into the comfort offered by the lips and the voice.

Rhysa woke the next day feeling slightly numb, as if a veil of cotton stood between her and everything else. She tried to keep her mind on business, tried to stay in character as Mieryth, but every now and then her imagination would show her images of Elise. She was as polite and earnest as ever, but something of her strain must have come through. Armina asked if she was okay and Sterling was demonstrably concerned. She wanted to reach out for the comfort they provided, but her loyalty and love for Elise warred with her duty and loyalty for the Royal Agents.

The day stretched into eternity. She couldn’t go home until she had more information about the threat posed by The Primacy, but she couldn’t see how she could replace the information. She was glad she didn’t have to deal with Taryn anymore; she didn’t know if she could have handled it. As it was, she had to fend off Camyrn’s attentions; unfortunately, her new duties offered him plenty of opportunity to charm her into his bed. She avoided him where she could, and when she couldn’t, she put him off as carefully as she could.

Rhysa sat in her room with her head in her hands. “I’m stuck. I can’t concentrate on my mission because I’m worried about Elise. I can’t return home to help replace her until I accomplish my mission.”

“I’m not sure you’re going about this the right way.” Dyram paced silently in front of her. “You’re trying to replace overt clues about an inherently secret society. We got lucky with the note. You won’t be able to solve this by being lucky.” He stopped and faced her. “I hate to say it, but you’ve made it more difficult for yourself by agreeing to work here.”

“What do you mean?”

“The relationships you’ve forged, working and personal, are limiting your options.”

Rhysa snorted derisively. “What options?”

“You’re known here. So any sneaking around you might do is going to be suspicious. Unfortunately, the areas you need to get to are areas where you have no legitimate business. We found the first note in Camyrn’s bedroom.”

“Are you suggesting I replace a means for legitimately going to his bedroom? Let him seduce me?” Rhysa began to feel a bit sick.

“It’s a possibility. Or it could have been, but you would alienate just about everyone else.”

“That’s something I can’t afford.”

“What about recruiting one of the bedroom maids?”

“The risk of awkward questions is too high.”

Dyram resumed pacing, and Rhysa cradled her head in her hands again. She had to admit Dyram was right: she’d limited her options by accepting a position here. “Coming up with a manor-wide inventory is within the realm of legitimate duties. But that would only work once every couple of months.”

“That’s a possibility. But it’s hit or miss. You’d have to rely on luck.”

“What do I actually need? I need to know what seal is on the follow-up note, and the timetable contained in the note. What are the ways I can get this information?”

“Directly from the note. Have someone keep an eye out for it? I can keep an eye on the bedroom.”

Rhysa shook her head. “Now that they know you exist, I imagine he’ll get a mage in to create wards for all the rooms. Besides, there’s no guarantee he’ll keep the note in the bedroom. For all we know, he may burn it as soon as he has the information he needs.”

“It sounds like the only way you can get the information is if Camyrn tells you.”

“Before he does that, he’ll need to trust me.”

“Or he could tell you in an attempt to impress you with his power and influence.”

“That wouldn’t work on its own. I’m not important enough for him to use dangerous information to impress me.” She paused before continuing. “Joining The Primacy would be a step in the right direction, though. I just don’t know how to go about it.”

“We know Camyrn is part of it and he’s at least moderately important in their structure. I suspect that would be the easiest way in. Unless.... Do we know if Armina is part of The Primacy?”

“All we know is she’s a mage, and she doesn’t use magic very often, though she doesn’t try to hide it when she does. She’s always been careful to remain neutral whenever the subject of non-humans comes up. Nor do we know if she approves of The Primacy.”

“It’s probably better if you concentrate on Camyrn.” He gave Rhysa a direct look. “Are you sure you can’t seduce him?”

Rhysa snorted. “Seducing him is not the problem. It just can’t happen here, or where we might be seen by anyone associated with this household.”

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