Tam nodded once. “It has to be done.”
“Maybe that’s a risk we don’t have to take.”
He looked at me. “What do you mean?”
I told him my plans for finding a way to destroy the Saghred.
“Those are long odds, Raine.”
“I’ve seen worse. You’re a gambling man. How about it?”
“The rock has the best cards,” he countered, but I could see a trace of a smile and a peek of fang.
I met his smile and raised him a grin. “Then we’ll cheat.”
Tam squeezed my hand. “Then deal me in. But we’d better play our hand quick. There are new players coming to the table.” He took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and didn’t say anything for a couple of heartbeats. That didn’t bode well. “Imala Kalis is on the island,” he said quietly.
“Who—”
“She’s the chief of goblin intelligence.” Tam hesitated. “She was in the Assembly after we’d closed the Hellgate.”
“The one you saw?”
Tam nodded.
And the one he’d lied about.
“How much trouble will she be?” I asked.
“Possibly more than we can handle.”
“I take it that you know her.”
“I do.”
Tam didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t really want to know how well Tam knew her. He had been the goblin queen’s magical enforcer; Imala Kalis was the chief of goblin intelligence. I imagine they’d worked together. Very closely together.
My ale and my stomach suddenly didn’t agree with each other. “Okay, so the chief of goblin intelligence saw what we did. What will she do about it?”
“Nothing, for now. Imala doesn’t believe in wasting good information. She will wait until revealing it is the most advantageous for her.”
“What a sweetheart. Has she contacted you?”
“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
I thought of Markus Sevelien telling Carnades to sit tight. Markus horded information like a miser horded gold. But unlike a miser, Markus didn’t keep what he horded; he used it. And like Imala Kalis, he used it when it would have maximum effect.
“I have a source in the goblin embassy,” Tam said. “I received one report, but I haven’t heard from him since.”
He calmly stated it as fact, not what it probably was—his source was dead or worse.
“I’ve heard that Rudra Muralin is in the embassy,” I said.
“He is.”
I scowled in frustration. “Muralin kidnapped Carnades when he was the acting archmagus and we still can’t touch him. Diplomatic immunity sucks.”
“And to go in after him would be an act of war.”
“I’m betting Sarad Nukpana has already gone in after him.”
“Rudra would be a good catch for him,” Tam agreed. “He’s powerful, influential, and has the full backing of King Sathrik Mal’Salin; but most important, he has been the Saghred’s bond servant before. Rudra would be the perfect body for Sarad to possess. And if Sarad has taken him, we will be finding out soon enough.”
“And both Muralin and Nukpana know about our umi’atsu bond,” I said. “If we move on them, they’ll move on us—if they haven’t made their first move already.”
I told Tam about Markus Sevelien.
“It’s starting.” Tam’s expression was as dark as his eyes.
“What?”
“Sathrik is sending those closest to him; your government is doing the same. They’re getting directly and openly involved.”
“They want the Saghred.” I knew that fact only too well.
“And in all probability, you to wield it for them. Before your father took the Saghred from King Omari Mal’Salin, the goblins had been waging a campaign of complete extermination against the elven people—and they nearly succeeded. For the past nine hundred years, neither goblin nor elf has had a tactical advantage.”
“By tactical advantage, you mean a rock that will suck out your enemies’ souls.”
“Yes.”
“As far as our governments are concerned, the Saghred is back on the market,” I said.
“Precisely. The goblins want to reclaim it—”
“And the elves want payback.”
This was about more than Tam and Mychael and me. This went much further than simple prejudice and centuries of racial hatred. It was about control over your enemies. The Saghred had become a symbol, a reason for the powerful and blood-thirsty to take those first steps toward something worse.
They were starting a war.
