OBSIDIAN GUARD BOOK 2

CHAPTER 12 MAGNIFICENT DISASTER

POV Valeryan

I sat in my high-backed chair, the weight of the obsidian crown familiar and cold against my brow. It was a heavy thing, carved from the very heart of the volcano, and it demanded a certain kind of posture, rigid, unyielding, and absolute.

A messenger had just confirmed the news: the Syndicate had crossed the border back toward Ironspire. Jasmine, Vane, Dante, all of them gone, scurrying back to their King like beaten hounds.

All except for the one I had specifically demanded as collateral. The one I currently held by the throat of his idiotesire.

Then came the second report, delivered by a Captain who looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

"He did what?" I asked. A sharp, jagged laugh escaped my throat, echoing off the high, dark vaults of the throne room.

"Nearly killed four men in an alley, Your Majesty," the Captain reported, his voice slightly shaken. He kept his eyes on the floor, avoiding the violet glow of the lanterns.

"We don't even think he used a weave. No heart-stopping, no manipulation. Just... fists and rage. We used the dampening cuffs, just in case, to get him to the cells. He didn't even fight the arrest. He smiled at us."

"Dammit, Gideon," I cursed under my breath, though a dark spark of admiration flared in my chest. He was a brute, an animal of pure muscle and instinct.

Most men in his position would be hiding in their hotel, counting the minutes until their release; he went out and started a riot just for the hell of it.

"He's a magnificent disaster."

I stood up, the silk of my gown hissing against the stone as I paced. I couldn't have him breaking my prison before the meeting, and I certainly couldn't have him getting bored. A bored Gideon was a dangerous one; he would start pulling the building down just to hear the stones scream.

"Move him," I commanded. "Not the pits. Take him to the secure suite in my Tower. The one with the reinforced glass and the silk linens. If he's going to be my prisoner, I want him comfortable enough to stay put."

Then, I summoned Ollivander.

He entered the room minutes later, moving with that practiced, fluid grace that always made my pulse skip. He looked wary, his eyes scanning my face for the shift in the wind.

He knew that look in my eye, that hunger that had nothing to do with ruling a city. I walked up to him, my boots clicking rhythmically, and grabbed his chin, tilting his head back until he had no choice but to look at the Queen.

"Change of plans, my sweet. You're going to jail."

Ollivander blinked. His pulse remained steady, the perfect, unflappable spy, but I felt the slight hitch in his breath against my palm. "Master?"

"Gideon is in the holding cells. I am having him moved to the tower, and I need you in there with him," I commanded, my thumb tracing the line of his jaw.

"I'm having you 'arrested' for associating with him. It's the truth, so your heart won't betray the lie if he tries to listen. Your job is to keep him busy. Keep him entertained. He's a high-tension wire, Ollivander, and I need you to keep him from snapping until I'm ready for Alistaire."

I leaned in, whispering against his ear, my breath ghosting over the shell of it. "No secrets. No hints about who I really am. To him, I am still just Valry. And tell him..." I paused, a predatory smirk tugging at my lips. "Tell him Valry might sneak into the cell later tonight to keep her favorite new toy happy. I'm not finished playing with him yet."

I signaled the guards. They stepped forward, snapping the iron cuffs onto Ollivander's wrists. He didn't resist. He never did. He played the part of the disgraced associate perfectly, his head bowing in feigned shame as they led him away toward the lift.

Once the doors hissed shut, the room fell into a heavy, expectant silence. I turned to the shadows in the far corner, where the light struggled to reach.

"Kaelen. Step forward."

Kaelen emerged like a blade being unsheathed. He was one of my proudest success stories, and one of my first. He had been a former Ironspire street rat who had realized early on that Alistaire's 'peace' was just a slow, suffocating death. He had been taken into the Guard that was only just getting set up, and under my tutelage, his weave had become a weapon of terrifying efficiency. He was a Kinetic Weaver; he didn't just move objects, he accelerated the molecules until they hit with the piercing force of a railgun.

"The meeting is in four days," I said, my voice returning to its regal, icy clip. "Alistaire is bringing four of his best. I need our front line ready. This isn't just a parley; it's a display of dominance."

"I am ready, My Queen," Kaelen said, his hand resting on the hilt of his obsidian-encrusted blade. The violet gems in his hilt hummed in resonance with his intent. "Who else do we take?"

"I want Mina," I decided. Mina was another 'pet ', a sensory weaver who could dampen the sight and sound of an entire battlefield, leaving the enemy stumbling in a sensory vacuum.

"And find Varek and Torin. They've survived the deep-vein collapses; they won't flinch when the Syndicate starts throwing their weight around. I want a wall of iron and a shroud of silence."

Kaelen nodded, his face a mask of cold discipline. "A Kinetic, a Sensory, and two of our heaviest Thanes. And you."

"And me," I echoed. I looked toward the great glass window, where the glow of the volcano painted the sky in shades of bruised purple and angry orange.

"Let us see who wins this one, Alistaire. Let us see if your 'Family' can survive the Guard."

I dismissed him with a wave. My mind was already drifting away from the politics of the fork, away from the logistics of war, and back to the dark, quiet suite beneath my feet.

I had a "toy" to visit, after all. And I intended to be very, very thorough.