Tempest's Legacy (Jane True #3)

The Alfar monarchs watched us pace toward them with impassive faces. Only Jarl, my enemy, betrayed his emotion with eyes so full of hate and rage they practically burned me. But I could burn right back, and so I did; all the enmity I felt for the pureblood fanaticist exuding from my every pore.

“To what do we owe this pleasure, Anyan Barghest?” intoned Morrigan in her sleepy Alfar voice.

The barghest dropped to one knee before his king and queen. I gave it a hard thought, and stayed standing. Morrigan’s eyes flickered toward me, but all she did was smile.

“As you know, my queen,” said Anyan from where he knelt, “I have been investigating the recent spate of kidnappings in our Territory, as per your orders.”

The queen nodded, while her husband sat beside her like a statue. I wondered whether he even knew what was happening around him.

“And you have news?” Morrigan asked. “Have there been developments?”

“Yes, my lady. May I stand?”

Morrigan nodded, and Anyan rose.

“We’ve raided the laboratory that we think was the base of operations, and we’ve brought back a witness. One of the so-called ‘doctors.’ ”

“A laboratory? Doctors?” Orin’s voice creaked out of his still form, as if he weren’t used to speaking.

“Yes, my liege. The kidnappings that have plagued our Territory were committed in order to harvest test subjects. They were pure-blooded females, and sometimes males, who had been successfully fertile with humans.”

“Test subjects?” the king repeated. No doubt he found the words unfamiliar.

“Yes, test subjects. These laboratories were built under the auspices of attempting to cure our fertility problems with what is purported to be human science. What actually occurred, however, was simply torture. Atrocities were committed on the victims: horrific abuse, beatings, rape—”

“Murder most foul,” I interrupted.

“And murder,” the barghest agreed.

“Science,” Orin mused, obviously stuck on that one idea.

“Yes, science. Or pseudoscience, to be accurate. And these attacks were not limited to our Territory, sir. Using a special chemical serum, purebloods have had their magic muted. Stripped of power, they were taken into the Borderlands, where many of the laboratories were set up under the charge of halflings promised pureblood mates.”

“These charges are quite serious, Anyan Barghest. And yet no specific accusations have been made. Do you know who is responsible for these treasonous acts?” Morrigan’s voice was calm, but there was tension underneath her words.

I loved that Anyan had told her people had been raped, tortured, and murdered, and all Morrigan could see in such monstrous acts was the fact “treason” had been committed.

Anyan paused, no doubt unsure how best to implicate Jarl, when Avery stepped forward.

“As one of the designers of the serum used to inhibit magic, I have met with the leader of these operations personally. I can testify to his identity.”

I would never be able to forgive Avery his role in everything, but I had to admit he was brave, stepping forward the way he did. This was his world; these were his leaders. And yet he had the guts to make an accusation that could get him killed, even as he admitted to crimes that had just been defined as treasonous.

“Avery,” hissed Jarl from behind Morrigan, a world of threat in his voice.

“No, Jarl. It’s finished. I never wanted this, any of this, and now I’m done. After what I’ve seen, what I’ve helped to enact, there is nothing but death that will bring me peace. So any threats you may make are idle.”

At this exchange, everyone started peering around at everyone else, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“My king, my queen. I regret to inform you that the being responsible for the laboratories, the kidnappings, and the testing, is none other than your second: Jarl.”

Avery’s voice was strong and clear, and rang out within a perfectly silent hall. His words echoed, as if to ensure that everybody heard. That’s when chaos erupted.

Beings were shoving one another around, repeating what had been said and jostling either to cram closer to the dais to see what happened or to flee from the room in an expectation of violence. I hoped my gentle dryad maid, Elspeth, was one of the latter.

Jarl leaped forward, his face a mask of rage. He would probably have killed Avery right then if Orin hadn’t stopped him with a simple gesture of his hand, combined with a pulse of magic so pure and powerful Jarl jerked to a halt like he was on a leash.

That’s why Orin is king, I thought, and his older brother is his servant.

The king set a bubble of power around his sibling, holding him still mere inches from where our goblin witness stood.

“These are serious accusations,” Orin intoned, his voice calm despite learning of his brother’s treachery. Meanwhile, his queen sat, as impassive as ever, beside him. “Have you any proof other than your own testimony?”

“My father worked closely with Jarl. You may question him,” said Avery.

Shit, I swore. Dad took off…

Only to see motion behind me as Ryu strode forward, frog-marching Avery’s father before him. Ryu glanced at me as I went past, but it wasn’t a lovey-dovey look. If anything, I think Ryu was telling me that he wasn’t here for me.

Orin’s heavy gaze moved toward the captured goblin.

“Winston Goblin, your son has made serious accusations against my second. He also claims you can testify on this matter. What do you have to say?”

Avery’s father had his jaw clamped shut, mutinously staring away from his king. Orin’s only response was another negligible flick of his fingers; a spell to loosen Winston’s tongue and another to make him tell nothing but the truth.

And loosen it did: Everything, and I mean everything, poured forth from the goblin. How Jarl had come to be obsessed with the idea of human science after discovering Conleth in his lab; how he’d sent out his nagas to bring back halfling bodies for experiments; how Conleth’s escape had led to Jarl’s collecting his own living subjects. Everything was there, out in the open. If the nagas, and later Phaedra and her gang, had been Jarl’s muscle, Winston Goblin was obviously his right-hand man when it came to strategy and execution.

The whole court was silent throughout Winston’s frenetic, magic-fueled testimony. Most creatures looked shocked; some looked guilty; others looked like they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. It did sound crazy: the schemes of lunatics whose unlimited power allowed them to bear their wackiest fantasies to fruition.

Indeed, I was almost enjoying watching everyone’s faces, till it was my turn to go pale and slack jawed.

“And then we accidentally kidnapped and killed the halfling’s mother,” Winston babbled, as my heart dropped into my shoes.

“We knew the selkie had halfling children, but didn’t realize she was Jane True’s mother until after she was dead. We realized our mistake—there was no way Anyan Barghest would give up once his halfling pet was involved. So we kidnapped her succubus friend, another human-lover, hoping to scare them off. Then my son suggested we use the succubus as leverage, instead…”

My mind had gone blank as the goblin’s words washed over me.

Accident? I thought. My mother’s death was just an accident to these bastards?

And children? Plural? Do I have other brothers and sisters?

My face heated up as my blood rushed to my head. I swayed on my feet, feeling faint, as if the goblin’s words were attacking my nervous system.

A calloused hand gripped mine, squeezing gently. I looked up at Anyan beseechingly, and his dark gray eyes locked on my black. He squeezed my fingers again, harder this time.

Get a grip, I told myself, heeding his silent warning. Now was not the time to lose it. I could lose it all I wanted, later, but the Alfar Compound was far too dangerous a place for me to fall apart. So I steeled myself, and refocused on Winston Goblin’s testimony.

When he was done, the goblin collapsed, kneeling on the floor and gasping for breath. At some point during Winston’s testimony, Orin had risen, leaving his queen still sitting on her throne. At that moment, the way Orin stood there, as if incapable of movement, was the closest thing to emotion I’d seen from the king. He’d always acted with complete, unwavering resolve. He’d sentenced Jarl’s nagas to death without batting an eyelash, but Orin stood before his brother as if incapable of proceeding. Eventually, however, he spoke.

“Jarl, my brother. The testimony laid out before me, from one whom I have ensured cannot lie, is damning. Have you anything to say in your defense?”

Orin’s magic let up on Jarl just enough so that his brother could speak.

“What I did I did for our kind, brother,” Jarl practically spat. “Your negligence would see us all wiped out, eliminated through attrition. You are no king; you are the figurehead of all that has led to our current predicament. All-powerful, and yet powerless: You squat upon your throne of lies.”

Someone’s been watching Elf, I thought, as Orin’s face grew even whiter at his second’s admissions.