Breaking Bard (Guardians of Terath Book 3) Read online

  “Your thing. The thing you did before you were a shiv. The thing you studied when you grew up in your artsy cabal. You were a dancer.” He splayed his hands in the air, as if holding the word “dancer” in glowing letters.

  “Ah. That ‘thing.’ So now you know.” She shrugged. “Is it going to be a problem?”

  “Problem? Well, yeah. Now I have to learn how to dance. Come show me that first thing you were doing, with the feet.” He led her back out to the dance floor.

  She allowed him to draw her to the center of the floor, but rather than begin a dance lesson, she pointedly scrutinized him. “Not everyone can be as good as Will, you know.”

  “At dancing?” Arc rested his hands on his hips.

  “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

  Arc laughed. “Oh, I see. You think I can’t measure up.”

  She smiled. “Becoming a good dancer takes hours of practice. Every day. Are you sure you want to undertake such a task?”

  He stepped in close to her. Clasping her hands, he said softly next to her ear, “Absolutely, if it means dancing with you.”

  Her heart melted just a bit. So she squared her shoulders and assumed all the airs of a relentless taskmaster. Which came quite naturally to her and felt rather good. “Then let’s get started.”

  Izzy tried to pinpoint her feeling of unease as she sat at a table alongside the dance floor. Though she’d wholeheartedly shared in the joy of the wedding, the energy of the event had changed sometime after the dancing had started. The music had become compelling and she’d had to deliberately keep herself apart from it.

  Looking down at her hands, she focused on her individuality. Sometimes her empathy took her too far into what someone else was feeling, and this event certainly inspired a vibrant outpouring of emotions.

  She looked up in time to see Will and Kassimeigh begin to dance. Their height and strength made them a beautiful pairing, in spite of Kassimeigh’s incongruent clothing. They moved together with easy confidence. There was a sensuality to their comfort with each other and combined self-assurance. Izzy put a hand to her stomach. The music thundered against her senses and a cold, oily feeling squirmed in her belly.

  She stood and walked away from the gathering, toward a cluster of lavender trees. Their scent would help settle her stomach. The chaos shrank behind her as she gained some distance from it. She’d go back after the music stopped.

  Kicking off her shoes provided a small relief. She sank to her knees and leaned against a skinny tree trunk. The music faded into the background. She spent several minutes breathing the flowered air in slow, measured inhalations. Gradually, her stomach eased.

  “Izzy?”

  She twisted back toward the party and saw Will studying her with concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Every now and then, being in the center of great emotion gets to be a little too much for me.”

  He offered his hand to help her up and she took it. Once she was on her feet, he continued to hold on, ensuring she was steady. He searched her face. “Even when it’s happy emotion?”

  She gently drew her hand away from his. “Ironically, that can be the toughest to deal with. A group of angry or sad people is something I can easily steel myself against. But when everyone’s happy, I don’t automatically shield my senses. I don’t always notice when the intensity approaches my threshold of comfort because I’m distracted by the enjoyment.”

  “But you’re okay now?”

  His concern made her smile. “Yes. I’ve got all of my self-preservation in place now.” He didn’t seem convinced and she bumped her elbow into his ribs as she took a step past him, toward the party. She paused to reach down and catch both of her shoes by the straps. She’d remain barefoot. “Really. I’m fine.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.” He matched his stride to hers. “If you start to feel bad again, let me know and I’ll take you someplace quieter.”

  “I’m on alert now so I won’t, but thank you. That’s sweet.”

  “Just don’t tell anyone. I have my new reputation as an uncompromising disciplinarian to protect.”

  She skimmed her fingers through her chin-length blue hair, making sure it was free of lavender petals. “Your secret’s safe with me. Though everyone here now knows that you’re a good dancer.”

  “That wasn’t a secret. In fact, we once danced together under the Apex Glow.”

  The memory of that night filled her thoughts. She hadn’t noticed any particular dancing skill when they’d performed an impromptu waltz beneath the beauty of the glow. Perhaps she’d been too distracted. “We did, didn’t we? That seems so long ago.”

  “A lot has happened since then,” he agreed.

  They arrived at the edge of the party. Fewer people were on the dance floor and the music had slowed to a sweet, romantic melody. The bride and groom swayed together, as did Arc and Kassimeigh, among a half dozen other couples.

  Izzy returned her attention to Will. “What else don’t I know about you, besides the dancing thing?”

  His handsome features spread into a broad smile. Will was always good-looking, but he was spectacular when he smiled. “Lots.” He mimicked her previous gesture and bumped her with his elbow. “I’m going to go get a drink, but I’m claiming you as my partner for the next fast song. Need anything from the drink table?”

  “No, thanks. I guess I’ll meet you on the dance floor.” She’d intended to stay away for the remainder of the dancing, but Will had lured her back. And she’d barely even teased him. She’d have to make up for that when he returned.

  Élan had enjoyed the wedding tremendously, but she wasn’t sorry when it was time to pack up the instruments and equipment. Even the nicest celebration had a limited shelf life. Unless it was a bardic event, which was a different thing altogether.

  The newlyweds had been toasted and congratulated, and they’d planted the ceremonial wedding tree. They’d chosen a hardy, fast-growing everly tree. If they stuck to the tradition, they would revisit it every year on their anniversary to see how it had grown.

  Sim was deconstructing his drum set and Élan had just secured the clasps on her leth case when Kassimeigh joined them.

  “Need any help?”

  Élan carefully set the case down and stood. “I think Sim and I have it under control, but thanks for the offer, Elder.”

  Kassimeigh’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t care for that title. I’ve chosen to stick with ‘Justice.’ Though friends are encouraged to call me Kassimeigh.”

  “Fair enough.” Élan nodded. She’d noticed the lack of white piping around Kassimeigh’s collar that would have made her instantly recognizable as an elder. She knew that Kassimeigh’s decision to accept the venerated position had been a reluctant one, so she said nothing more about it. She moved to an audio reflector and broke it down with a few deft touches and stored it in a slim container.

  Kassimeigh’s eyes tracked Élan’s movements. “Do you have a few minutes to talk before you leave for wherever you’re going next?”

  “I’m just headed northward to visit friends, so sure. I’m on no specific schedule.”

  “You’re on break from the Hinterland Observatory?”

  “Yes. I like it there, but I do get the wanderlust. Bards are terribly social creatures and have to get out among their own kind at regular intervals. Right now I’m on a one month on, two months off rotation at the observatory. Just started the time off.” The calculating look that sparked in Kassimeigh’s eyes made Élan instantly wary. “Why?”

  Kassimeigh tilted her head toward a walking path. “Let’s go for a stroll.”

  Élan met Sim’s moss-green eyes, which complemented his dark brown skin and hair so well. The man was a notorious flirt because, with his looks, he knew he could get away with it. “Can you finish up here?”

  His dimples sank into his cheeks. “Course I can. Shoo. Don’t keep the good justice waiting.” He waved at Élan dismissively.

 
She and Kassimeigh took a path that wound across the field and toward the tree stands. Élan inhaled deeply, appreciating the clean air, blue sky, and warm sun. She really didn’t need much to be happy. Just the mid-lats, friends, and her music.

  Walking next to Kassimeigh reminded Élan how much they didn’t have in common. Élan had to fake being five feet tall with the help of some chunky boots, while Kassimeigh towered over her at six feet tall. Élan was as petite as she was vertically challenged and though Kassimeigh was slim, she was pure muscle and menace. Kassimeigh’s fiery red hair and deep-blue eyes contrasted sharply with Élan’s pale, cool-toned silver hair and gray eyes. They were both fair skinned, but while Kassimeigh had vibrant, warm undertones, Élan was a snowy shade of pale.

  Physical differences weren’t all that separated her and Kassimeigh, of course. She knew from experience how monstrously powerful Kassimeigh’s mana ability was. Plus, the woman had tremendous authority not only as a shiv elder and justice, but as the commander of the Terath Guard, second only to Will Azrith. In comparison, Élan’s quiet existence made very few ripples of impact in the world. She liked it that way. She’d spent a decade in careful seclusion from the general public for good reason. Her privacy had only recently been disrupted by her association with several of the people attending this very celebration. All the guests had been sworn to secrecy about Élan’s presence, but she knew she’d been flirting with exposing her existence for some time now. She hadn’t yet figured out what to do about that.

  Once they’d moved away from the few remaining wedding guests, Kassimeigh spoke, interrupting Élan’s wandering thoughts.

  “I need your help.”

  “You need music for an upcoming event?” Élan didn’t see the need for such secrecy. Unless it would be a surprise party of some sort. Those were always fun.

  “No, nothing like that. Terath has a serious problem and the shivs haven’t been able to get near it. I need your connections to get underground and into the right places.”

  Élan’s feet stopped propelling her forward. “How could I do that?”

  “Have you heard of something called sparkle?”

  Élan searched her mind but came up with nothing. “I don’t think so.”

  “It’s an illegal substance. Why someone has manufactured it, we don’t know. For sale, most likely. But those who inhale the stuff apparently experience some euphoric effects. They also sometimes die.”

  “So it’s like eating gigglemint but potentially deadly?”

  “It could be a similar but much more intense effect. And of course, gigglemint is harmless.”

  “What could I do to help?” Élan asked.

  “This is very underground. We haven’t been able to connect anything to anyone. All we have are the anecdotes of some kids who somehow got the stuff, some dead people, and the toxicology reports of the deceased. We haven’t even managed to get any sparkle to examine. We’re chasing ghosts and rumors. Months ago, when we were trying to figure out what to do with the mana bugs, you told me about your bard network. How fast information gets around.”

  Élan nodded. “Yes. Given our unique position in society, we know people from all walks of life and are privy to all the dirt that goes with it. We travel our circuits and visit different regions, where people trust us and talk to us. Bards share what we know with other bards, and so we all stay in the loop of what’s what.”

  “But you haven’t heard anything about this.” Kassimeigh began walking again, obliging Élan to do the same.

  “I haven’t. But I can ask around. I know a lot of people, and they know a lot of people. I can network to just about anyone on the planet.”

  “Good. I know you said you have two months off from the observatory, but I’ll arrange it with Magistrate Rowe that you can stay on this for as long as you need. I need you to dig deep and find out who is using this stuff, where they’re getting it, and most importantly, who is manufacturing it. Once we’ve figured out the ‘who’ part, I can find out the ‘why.’”

  “I assume discretion is important.” Élan mentally ran through her most trusted friends. Bards who could keep their mouths shut about something could be hard to find. They were a gossipy bunch, which could be both a blessing and a curse.

  “Yes. We can’t let those involved know that we’re on their trail. It could put you in danger or force them further underground. This is a touchy matter, yet very important. I’ve had shivs question anyone involved with the dead, but all roads go nowhere. Four months and no leads.”

  Élan drummed the fingers of her left hand on the back of her right hand as she thought. “I can make my regular circuit. Connect with people I know. Listen. Talk to people in different towns. People confide all their best bits to bards.”

  Kassimeigh nodded. “Exactly. Don’t tell anyone what you’re about unless you must, and you trust them with your life.”

  “I can tell Sim?”

  “If you trust him that way.”

  “I do,” Élan declared without hesitation. “There are two people on Terath I’d trust with anything, and Sim’s one of them.”

  “And he’ll help?”

  “Of course.”

  Kassimeigh seemed to accept that. She continued, “I’ll want you to stay in touch with me, but don’t mention anything sensitive on the comm. Nothing about sparkle in any recordable or transmitted way. I’ll make sure you have anything you need. Just request a meeting and I’ll be there to provide assistance or get whatever information you have for me.”

  She’d have Kassimeigh at her beck and call? Damn. She’d have to ponder that fact later. As of right now, she felt very wiggly about the idea. She quite liked her leaf-in-the-wind sort of life and this assignment seemed like anything but.

  “I’ll put some thought into my travel plans and let you know where I expect to be.”

  “Good. Any supplies you need can be billed directly to me. I’ll take care of all that.”

  Damn again. Élan wondered how bad of a thing she was getting herself into. “Okay. I’ll talk with Sim and we’ll make plans.”

  Kassimeigh about-faced and began striding back toward Sim and the others. “Good. Keep me posted.”

  Élan had to hurry to keep up with Kassimeigh’s long-legged gait. After a few moments of silence, Élan ventured, “So, you’ve been well?”

  Kassimeigh’s shoulders relaxed slightly and her pace slowed. “Relatively. I’ve been busy splitting myself between the keep and the fortress. Fortunately, wherever I am, I can usually take care of things in the other place via the comm. I’m a lot more administrative these days than hands-on. I much prefer the hands-on end of things.”

  “I heard the Guard has been tasked with breaking down the old abandoned mining towns.” In some cases, it was a shame. Bards occasionally used the mines that were still safe as a gathering place. But most of them were not safe, so overall, it was better that they be collapsed. Adventurous spelunkers and mischievous teenagers had a habit of getting themselves killed in them.

  “Yes. The Council of Magistrates has been meaning to do something about them for quite some time, and the Guard has given them an excellent means of getting it done. It’s amazing how many ways the Guard has proved to be useful, for an agency that had never before been deemed necessary.”

  When they arrived back where they’d begun, Sim raised an eyebrow at Élan. She gave him a “wait” look. She knew he was a virtuoso at reading her face’s antics, and that he understood the message perfectly.

  “I’ll talk to you soon, then,” Kassimeigh concluded formally.

  “Yes. I’ll let you know my plans as soon as I’ve made them.”

  “Good luck.”

  Élan grinned. “Bards don’t need luck. We make our own.”

  Sim made a yipping sound in agreement. “Damn straight.”

  Kassimeigh seemed unsure how to respond to that. “That’s good, then.” She turned and crossed the dance floor to join Arc and his parents.

  “So wha
t was that about?” Sim’s face was all eager curiosity.

  “I’ll fill you in when we get somewhere private.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  Élan paused before slinging her leth case onto her back. “I may have gotten us into something pretty bad.”

  Sim studied her for a long moment, then flashed her a huge grin. “Great. Let’s get going, then.”

  2

  Oh, the feeling of being on the move. The blur of landscape outside a monorail window always got Élan’s blood stirring with excitement.

  She had adventures ahead and good memories behind. Nothing energized her more than doing a circuit tour. Every destination would be a reunion and a chance for new inspiration. Of course over the past decade she’d kept her tours to the bardic underground that would keep the secret of her existence safe.

  Everyone liked being on the inside of a huge secret, and the bards took care of their own. In spite of their gossipy nature, bards would never betray her to the public. She could count on them to play dumb if the subject of Élan Gray ever came up. Not that it was likely to, without something to prompt it. Her disappearance was old news.

  She did take care to wear very average, unremarkable clothing and to disguise her hair so that people didn’t recognize her when she was out in public. It’s easy to conceal what people don’t expect to see.

  That blasted “Realms” song and its video. If it weren’t for them she wouldn’t have to take such precautions. Her unwanted “rock star” status had ruined her life but she’d rebuilt it in a way that suited her. She now had her work in the hinterlands as well.

  Élan pushed back into the comfortable monorail seat but continued to watch the landscape flit by. Her heart beat a little faster as the familiar curves and contours of Sanctuary came into view. It might look like any other stretch of land to someone who didn’t call it home, but Élan felt the sense of belonging flow into her veins like an injection.

  She savored her homecoming as she hurtled closer to the monorail station. She hadn’t been born in Sanctuary, but that made no difference. Returning always felt like going back in time. Or maybe it was that being home had a sense of timelessness. Either way, whenever she left the city, a piece of her soul dislodged, only to click into place once she returned.