"Sure. This one is free. The next one will cost you." Erland flashed his famous, heart-melting smile and went to work.
"Honey, I ought to ask to watch you work more often." I sat next to Erland as he had a cup of tea in the ship's galley afterward.
"Lissa, that sounds boring." He bumped his forehead against mine before giving me a warm kiss. "Now, I need to have a conference with your grandfather." Erland set down his cup, rose and was gone in a blink.
* * *
"Zellar doesn't have that kind of power and his is the only name we know," Wylend huffed at Erland's information.
"If I ever catch up with any of them," Erland didn't finish. Just the thought of warlocks allied with Black Mist made him want to cast a breaking spell against them. He'd have to be close to do it but heads would explode, in a manner similar to what Lissa could do.
"You have my permission to use any force against them." Wylend knew what Erland was thinking.
* * *
Zellar didn't have to tell Viregruz that his effort had failed—he'd informed Viregruz before the spell was cast that it was too far and distance would weaken the casting. Viregruz had guessed at the failure by Zellar's expression and the exhaustion that came with it. Zeller hadn't had this level of power before, but he'd tapped into the core of the planet. Removing that energy required the darkest of spells and once tapped, the energy would continue to drain away at an accelerated rate until the planet died.
Zellar no longer cared how the power was gained—it had become an addiction to wield so much of it. Besides, Viregruz was looking to relocate anyway. What care did they have that Mazareal would die within a decade? Zellar was paid very well for his services, and at the moment, Viregruz was still treating him as a favored employee. Zellar knew it was due to his newly acquired talent and power—he just wasn't telling anyone where it came from. He was thankful, too, that Viregruz hadn't blamed him for Giryoth's failure to kill the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis and the ASD's Director. Zellar worried, though, that if he were involved in many more failures, Viregruz's attitude might change.
It helped, too, that none seemed to know that Zellar worked for Black Mist. Zellar's spies monitored the ones hunted by the ASD and so far, his name hadn't appeared on any bulletins. The King of Karathia had his name on a list for lesser crimes, but even he had no suspicions of Zellar's new talents.
"They will not find anything, Lord Viregruz," Zellar assured the vampire who'd created Black Mist. "Their science will not tell them anything. They cannot use tests to track a spell and they have no warlocks in their employ. My spies in the Alliance keep me informed."
"Yes, I know this," Viregruz agreed. "I'd prefer that it stay that way—the ASD shouldn't hire power wielders. That leaves us with an edge, my warlock friend."
"We should look again for another world—we must relocate soon," Zellar went on. He didn't tell Viregruz that in two months or less he would completely drain the world they stood upon. Its death would come slowly after that, but it would come.
"My friend, I am turning my thoughts to that. Had I known about the world that is called Le-Ath Veronis, I would have taken it before the bitch queen came along. That would have been perfect for us."
Zellar didn't comment. He had some information on that world and he knew Viregruz might not have been able to take it. Le-Ath Veronis had been uninhabited before the queen arrived. Now it grew and thrived. Even Viregruz would have admitted that with no life, he and his other vampires could not survive. They would be forced to search for a world that had plenty of warm-blooded humanoids upon it.
"Shall I call one of the others to bring a meal for you?" Zellar asked politely.
"Of course. I am hungry. We will discuss relocation later."
Zellar dipped his head respectfully and went to find a servant.
* * *
"Lissa, Erland told us where you were," the communication looked fuzzy on board the ship, but the audio was good. Grant and Heathe were both there in the not-so-clear image, with information to share with me.
"What do you have, honey?" I asked.
"Someone who identified herself as Narimalan Cordrifith has asked to visit Le-Ath Veronis," Grant reported. "She said you told her she could come if she wanted to visit with her son."
"That's Norian's mother," I drew a tired breath. Norian, Lendill and I hadn't had any rest since we'd boarded the ship, and it didn't look as if we were going to get any soon. "Arrange for her to come, and for her husband to come with her. I will not allow her first son—his name is Yaredolak by the way—to set foot on Le-Ath Veronis. Arrange for discreet guards, too—Norian doesn't know his family very well and I sure don't want them to hurt him or anyone else on my planet." I'd taken the call inside a private cubicle—Norian and Lendill were doing business on other matters elsewhere.
Heathe went to his communicator while I waited and scheduled a visit with Norian's parents in two days. He asked my palace staff to prepare a guest suite for them as well. They would be given the best treatment while they were visiting.
"Why doesn't Norian know his parents?" Grant asked as he tapped away on his comp-vid.
"Honey, it's a long story," I said. "I'll tell you the whole thing someday. It isn't their fault. Or his fault. We may have to get to the bottom of this sometime soon." I terminated the communication and went looking for Norian to give him the news.
"Honey, your parents are coming to Le-Ath Veronis in two days. I hope you can spare some time," I told him, sitting on the chair next to his as he scrolled through information on his handheld.
Norian gave me a shocked look—his fingers stilling on the microcomputer in his hand. "Did they say why they were coming?" I think he had difficulty swallowing for a moment.
"Honey, I didn't ask my assistants to grill them—I assume they want to see you. We didn't talk much when we were with them the other day."
"I'm not up to more of the same. And I can tell you now; I don't have any desire to see my homicidal, child-selling brother again."
"I told Grant that he wasn't welcome on Le-Ath Veronis," I rubbed Norian's back. Deep down, this hurt him. More than he would ever show anyone, except for me, perhaps. He and I—we both had terrible things in our childhood. "Honey, I have a question," I said as we sat there, shoulder to shoulder while I rubbed his back. Norian seemed lost in thought.
"What is it, breah-mul?" Norian leaned over and breathed on my neck before placing a kiss.