1 State of Grace Read online

  “Your cheeks are red, Ambassador,” Richie said. “You’ve spent too much time in the wind. Can I get you some coffee to warm yourself?”

  “Thanks, Richie,” Wolf replied. “I’d love some.”

  Wordlessly, the young man turned and went below. Hoag eyed him with a smile on his face.

  “He’s taken a shine to you, Wolf,” Hoag said. “I’d better be careful, or you’ll steal him away from me.”

  “There’s no danger of that,” Wolf replied. Hoag guffawed again.

  “Yes, I can see you’re a ladies man,” he replied. “Richie’s all but thrown himself at you, and you haven’t given him so much as a glimmer.”

  Wolf blushed in spite of himself. It seemed odd speaking with another man about his lover showing an interest in Wolf.

  “Well, he’s taken,” Wolf commented. “And I’d hate to insult such a fine host.”

  “Blood and bones! You’re really growing into this role of diplomat, Ambassador. That’s as fine an evasion of an issue as any I’ve seen. The fact is, taken or no, Richie’s got no chance with you, because you prefer women.”

  Wolf wasn’t quite sure how to reply. He was relieved when the ship suddenly entered a thick mist, offering him an opportunity to change the subject.

  “This is strange,” he said.

  “All part of the ambience, Wolf,” Hoag replied. “A mist surrounds the coasts of Alfar and Jifan. It’s like God put it there to give you a warning that you’re passing into a strange, new land.”

  Presently, Richie arrived with Wolf’s coffee. He handed it to him with a smile. Hoag grinned again, which made Wolf uncomfortable.

  “Here you are, Ambassador,” Richie said. Wolf murmured a thanks and then gratefully wrapped his hands around the clay cup, feeling the warmth of the coffee. “We’re almost there, I see.”

  “Yes, Lad,” Hoag said, tousling his hair affectionately. “Once more we venture into lands of adventure.” He turned to Wolf. “My father used to say that to me when he would take me to market. Not sure why he did, but I always liked the sound of it.”

  Wolf smiled at the confession and sipped his coffee. It had delicious notes of chocolate and warmed him immediately.

  A few minutes passed where the companions said nothing to each other. Wolf drank his coffee, and Richie and Hoag just stared through the fog contentedly. Then the mist began to thin.

  “Here we are, Wolf,” Hoag said. “Your first look at Alfar, magical land of the elves.”

  As he said so, the clouds parted, and the port city of El-Amin was visible. Wolf nearly choked on his coffee.

  Everything he’d read and heard about Alfar described it as beautiful, an Edenic paradise populated by the most beautiful people on Earth. What he saw instead was a blighted nightmare. There were no rolling hills of the greenest grass imaginable, as he’d read. Instead, they were a sickly color of brown, dotted periodically with diseased grass patches. The majestic trees he’d expected were rotting and, if they had leaves, teetered toward the ground, as if they were slowly moving towards the grave. The harbor water, alleged to be so clear you could see to the bottom even to depths of twenty feet, was a dark blue, almost black. An Urlish warship patrolled those waters nearby, and Wolf could see others farther off towards shore.

  “Blood and bones,” Wolf whispered.

  “Not what you were expecting, is it, Laddie?” Hoag said, a somber note in his tone.

  “Not a bit,” Wolf admitted.

  “It’s sad,” Hoag said. “Time was, you’d come through that fog and have to look away, everything was so bright and beautiful. I used to hate leaving here when I’d have to travel back to Celia or somewhere else. Now, I almost detest returning.”

  Wolf stared in horror. If Hoag remembered a time when Alfar was beautiful, it couldn’t have been too long ago – not more than twenty years. What could cause this much ruin in such a short time?

  “What happened?” Wolf asked.

  “Well, there are several different theories,” Hoag replied. “Some people, most of them elves, believe plundering the land for the magic trade with Urland and Phrygia drained the place of the magic that made it so beautiful. Others say the presence of so many humans has corrupted it.”

  “You ask me,” Richie said, offering a rare comment, “I think it’s because they keep killing each other. They’ve divided into two countries, and all the suicide bombings and other murders have made God angry. They’re not his chosen people anymore.”

  “You’ll get a lot of support for that theory among both humans and elves, Wolf,” Hoag said. “But it doesn’t matter. Something’s gone horribly wrong here. The most beautiful place on Earth is dying. It already looks like a corpse.”

  “Cap’n!” called a voice from the crow’s nest, “That Urlish man-o-war is headed our way!”

  Wolf turned to his left and saw that, indeed, the big warship was on an intercept course. She’d be in range to open fire with her ballistae in about a minute.

  “Richie,” Hoag said quietly, “go hoist the ambassador’s flag.”

  “Aye, sir,” he said and was off.

  “I imagine we can get you a first-class escort into port, Wolf.”

  Despite the fact that his countrymen were sailing towards him, Wolf felt uncomfortable.

  ***

  Forty minutes later, The Shimmering Veil was docked and still flying the flag of the Urlish ambassador. Goods were being offloaded, including Wolf’s trunks, which he had repacked and locked securely. Wolf stood at the top of the gangplank, saying his goodbyes to Hoag and Richie.

  “Well, Wolf, you’ve made it this far,” the captain was saying. “Now the hard part begins.”

  “It’ll be easier thanks to all the good advice I got from you,” Wolf said.

  “Ah, you’re flattering an old seadog,” Hoag said, brushing off the compliment. “But I appreciate it anyway. You ever need a reliable ship, you just call for me, Ambassador.”

  “I will. I hate sailing. I wouldn’t want to endure with it anyone but you.”

  Hoag let out one more of his characteristic guffaws and shook Wolf’s hand. After a moment, Wolf turned to Richie.

  “Thanks for everything, Richie,” he said. “You made this a much more pleasant journey than it could have been.”

  Richie said nothing, but he leaned up and kissed Wolf lightly on the cheek. The gesture made Wolf feel a little awkward, but Hoag didn’t seem offended, so he rewarded Richie with a smile.

  “Wolf,” Hoag said. His face had become very serious. “Watch your back here. And your front and your sides too. I don’t know what sort of place you’re used to, but this is a lot different, a lot more dangerous.”

  “I know a little something about danger,” Wolf said. “I’ll be fine.”

  Hoag’s eyes narrowed. He gripped Wolf’s arm.

  “Listen, Ambassador,” he said, “I may be just an old seadog, but I’m not a fool. Her Majesty’s government does not send an inexperienced diplomat to the biggest hellhole on Earth, nor does it charter a scow like The Shimmering Veil to get him there. And I’ve never met a diplomat who wasn’t a silk-loving noble. I don’t know what you’re really doing here, but I’ve a good bet you ain’t here to solve the impasse between Alfar and Urland.

  “Which means whatever you’re here for is damned dangerous business. I figure you ‘know a little something about danger,’ as you put it, but wherever you’ve been before, it ain’t Alfar. You be careful, or you’ll end up like the dandies without a clue who come over here and get in over their heads.”

  Wolf held Hoag’s gaze for a moment. He thought about what he said and supposed there was some truth to it. Sara Wensley-James was as good a Shadow as any he’d known, and she’d ended up chewed to pieces in the wasteland outside Al-Adan.

  “Thanks, Captain,” he said. “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine, Wolf,” Hoag said. “I can tell you’re a good man.”

  They shook hands, and t
hen Wolf turned away. As he faced the shore, he saw an elf in white robes making his way up the gangplank.

  “Were you expecting an escort from the consulate, Ambassador?” Hoag said, concern in his tone.

  Something was wrong. Wolf hadn’t been briefed about an elfin escort, and this one didn’t look like he came from the consulate. The robes were pristine, but his face was haggard. He looked malnourished. His jet-black skin had a sallow quality to it. Wolf couldn’t believe a government official would appear that way.

  He scanned the area instinctively, looking for clues that would reveal the nature of the situation. After a moment, he spied Julius Quincy, the director of Urland’s Magic Division, making his way towards the ship and waving at Wolf.

  Wolf returned his attention to the elf, who had made it two-thirds of the way up the gangplank. His thin face was set in determination. There was a wild look in his eyes. He wasn’t here to greet Wolf and escort him to the consulate. He put up his hood and then crossed his arms and produced a wand from one sleeve.

  “Look out!” Richie yelled.

  The elf waved the wand and said something Wolf couldn’t understand. Wolf saw a wave of magical energy build up around the wand as the elf made it to the top of the gangplank.

  Richie dived at the assassin, tackling him around the waist. The two pitched over the side of the ship and plummeted towards the dock as the elf completed his spell. A second later there was a fierce explosion that scorched the ground and set the side of The Shimmering Veil ablaze.

  “Richie!” Hoag cried. He raced down the gangplank.

  Wolf called for buckets and water, and then went to the edge of the ship and looked down for any trace of his would-be assassin. There were burning chunks of flesh and bones but nothing more. Richie was gone too.

  “No!” Hoag said when he reached the spot where they fell. The big man fell to his knees and wept, despite the danger of his proximity to the fire.

  A second later, water rose up from the harbor, arced around The Shimmering Veil and settled gently on the fire, extinguishing it in short order. Stunned, Wolf looked for the source and saw Quincy holding a wand and waving fervently at Wolf to join him.

  Years of training and well honed instincts overrode Wolf’s desire to comfort his friend in his grief. He ran down the gangplank and was by Quincy’s side in seconds.

  “Let’s go,” Quincy said.

  “But Captain Hoag—” Wolf started.

  “There’s no time!” Quincy barked. “There may be other assassins; we need to get you to safety. We’ll send for your things. Now come on, Shadow Six! We’ve got to move.”

  Something about hearing his service codename snapped Wolf out of his thoughts for Hoag and Richie and into mission mode. He hated just abandoning the man, but the mission took priority. Quincy was right. It was time to go.

  Quincy waved his wand and Wolf saw magic descend upon the two of them. When they started running, they moved at superhuman speeds. He had to focus to keep Quincy in sight and to avoid running into slower moving people and animals.

  After what seemed like only a few seconds, Quincy came to a stop at a brownstone wall. Wolf nearly ran him over in his attempt to stop. Quincy waved his wand again, and a door appeared on the wall.

  “This way,” he said, opening it and slipping inside.

  Wolf followed, vowing to make the person responsible for Richie’s death pay. He owed Hoag and Richie both that much.

  Chapter 12: More Dangerous than Mensch

  (Two Days before Revelation Day)

  Wolf spent the next few hours enduring debriefing. Quincy left him almost immediately after dropping him off and explaining there had been an assassination attempt. Moments later, Wolf was whisked to a nondescript room with a couple of chairs and a table and left alone.

  He barely had time to consider what happened when the door opened and an Urlish soldier in an immaculately pressed uniform came in. His blonde hair was cut short, and he wore a serious expression.

  “I am Lieutenant Smith,” he said. “I’m the duty officer in charge of security. Are you injured at all?”

  “No,” Wolf answered. At least not physically.

  “Good,” Smith said. “Please describe the sequence of events for me.”

  Wolf spent an interminable amount of time going over every detail of his arrival in El-Amin. He told and retold the story of the assassination attempt, of Richie’s heroism, of Quincy’s rescue. He was forced to vouch for Hoag not being a security risk. He explained the protocols for his arrival.

  When he was weary and angry and frustrated, Smith relented and left him in peace. But only a few minutes later, he was interviewed a second time, this time by Shadow Twenty-Seven, the Shadow assigned to El-Amin. Wolf didn’t know him personally. He’d read his file and knew the young man had the ability to see and hear things from hundreds of yards away. It was a useful trait for a spy, and that no doubt made him very handy in Alfar. Shadow Twenty-Seven had a small frame and was soft-spoken. His black hair looked like a mop sitting on top of his head.

  Wolf spent another half an hour describing the assassin, trying to recall what the elf looked like exactly, and where he had come from. Wolf couldn’t be sure of the last. He hadn’t noticed him until he was on the gangplank. Shadow Twenty-Seven conceded it was all probably a lost cause, but he was compelled to learn whatever they could about the assassin’s operations.

  “It was most likely the Sons of Frey,” he said.

  “They’re the principal insurgents, right?” Wolf said, trying to sort through all of the information he’d read and heard over the last week.

  “Correct,” Shadow Twenty-Seven replied. “They’re the largest Shendali terrorist cell operating in this area. Their goal is to effect a fundamentalist coup similar to the one in Jifan. They attack our soldiers and outposts to try to get us to go home. They also bomb any establishment too closely associated with the coalition government, and they have been known to kidnap and torture Freyalans. You don’t see that as much in Al-Adan or even here in El-Amin. Our forces, along with the Alfari Elite Guard and Central Police, are pretty effective at discouraging that sort of sectarian violence. But out in the rural areas and the cities closer to Jifan, it’s still pretty common.”

  “Who’s running this?” Wolf asked.

  “The Sons of Frey? The head man is reputed to be a guy by the name of Starfellow. He’s unreliably described, and neither Her Majesty’s Shadow Service nor the Elite Guard has a good fix on his background or his base of operations. Most reports indicate he’s controlling things from Al-Adan, but there’s a lot of evidence to suggest he moves around a lot.

  “He sends regular communiqués, though. Most of it is what you’d expect. He demands all foreigners leave Alfar immediately, and he wants the government to install more conservative, fundamentalist policies. He promises violence and retribution for failure to comply with his terms, and every time some of his people are caught, he attacks civilians to try to terrorize the government into laying off. So far, he’s only steeled their resolve to catch him, but they have no idea how to do it or where he is.”

  Wolf nodded. He’d read a lot of this in his security briefs, and Hoag had touched briefly on the fanaticism of the insurgents.

  “You said most of his communiqués are what I’d expect,” Wolf said. “What’s the rest of it?”

  “Well, lately he’s been promising a calamity of epic proportions if our forces don’t withdraw by Revelation Day. That’s only two days away. I don’t see it happening, but he hasn’t given any real clue what this calamity might be.”

  Wolf leaned back and rubbed the back of his head. Despite the anger and confusion he felt at the interrogation and the assassination attempt that had cost the life of a friend, he found himself drawn in by the problem of the Sons of Frey. He knew Silverleaf was up to something. The ambassador was Shendali. Could he be involved with Starfellow? Wolf didn’t think that made a lot of sense. Whatever his religious leanings and his stance
toward Urlanders, he was an avowed patriot and a hater of Jifan. According to the dossier Wolf read, he’d fought vehemently against the upstart theocracy in the Elfin Civil War. It just didn’t add up for Silverleaf and Starfellow to be working together. More likely, both fiends were plotting separate conspiracies.

  Regardless, Wolf was tired of theorizing. He was anxious to get to work. He hadn’t been in Alfar five minutes when someone tried to kill him. For the moment, the Sons of Frey were someone else’s problem. He wanted to get his hands on Silverleaf. And he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten for hours.

  “I’m sorry, Shadow Twenty-Seven,” he said. “Is there anything else?”

  “No, Shadow Six,” he replied. “That’s all.”

  “Then is there anything to eat? I’m famished, and I need to get moving on my assignment.”

  “Of course, sir. I’ll have some food sent in and inform Dr. Quincy you’re ready for his briefing.”

  Wolf thanked him, and the other Shadow went out. A few minutes later, a soldier arrived with a tray of bread and cheese and a jug of wine. The cheese was surprisingly good; the wine only passable. So far, Wolf hadn’t seen any of the excellent cuisine he was promised by Hoag and the culture reports. On the other hand, this was Urlish food. He supposed he needed to be a little more patient.

  Fifteen minutes later, Shadow Twenty-Seven returned and said, “Dr. Quincy will see you now, Shadow Six.”

  Wolf got up wordlessly and followed his colleague down the hall. After a quick turn they came to a cavern. Wolf thought it had been enlarged from its original composition. Some of the stone was obviously worked.

  Inside, there were a number of tables and benches covered in what Wolf presumed were magical experiments. Quincy never liked to be far from his work, and, when he was forced to travel, he often brought a makeshift workshop and several staffers with him. Wolf wasn’t sure how he did it. He presumed it was magic. In the back of the cavern was a large hansom carriage. It looked out of place amongst all the other work.