A Barrel of Vintner - Chapter 4

Yesterday was rather soothing. When I woke up around three in the afternoon, Mother Nature delivered a steady snow. The so-called experts said it would only be a dusting, but we had three inches by the time DH took out the pups for their final constitutional last night.

There's something inherently peaceful in that muffled whiteness. Mother Nature placing a new canvas on her easel in preparation for spring colors. And like her, I find creating during a snowfall inspirational.

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Our carriages rolled through the Temple District and climbed the steep hill to the royal palace. The street zigzagged to make it easier on the horses and other beasts of burden. After I gave myself my peculiar sight, I watched my fellow novices from the other eleven Temples run up and down this very road while I was confined to my quarters. As part of my punishment after I was allowed to attend lessons again, I was ordered to join the sighted novices in their exercise.

Because of the sharp rise in altitude of the hill, the walls surrounding the royal estate sat well below the palace itself. It was the first time I visited the royal home since I’d left Standora to ride circuit in the eastern half of the Duchy of Orrin. From here, the queen and her advisors could see the entire Bay of Standora. Even for me, the view was quite spectacular as I climbed out of the prince consort’s carriage.

The hills surrounding the bay rose sharply from the water. Reinforced terraces kept the buildings, parks, and gardens from sliding into the frigid waters below. With the coming of spring, caravels had resumed their travels through the narrow passage of the bay to the Peaceful Sea while sailboats and ferries crisscrossed to the opposing sides of the bay. The smaller watercraft allowed people and goods to continue their land journeys north, south, and east by foot or animal. On tiny White Island near the entrance to bay, a combined watchtower and lighthouse rose in a slim golden column against the purple-blue of the water.

“Chief Justice?” the prince consort said.

I turned to him and inclined my head. “My apologies, Your Highness. I haven’t seen the view from here in a long time.”

“You may gaze at the sights afterward.” He smiled, amused at my distraction. “The queen awaits.”

“Of course.” I followed him and Luc up the steps and through the main doors of the palace. Our wardens followed close behind. I hoped the prince hadn’t been too rough with them. My actions often took them by surprise, so I couldn’t fault them for not reacting until I was a block away from the royal carriages. I hoped the prince hadn’t given them a tongue-lashing for my actions.

If he had, Jonata would be sure to mention it later in private. The normally quiet warden had become quite vocal during our mission to Jing and back. What I’d taken for shyness had been her studying the relationships within Balance before speaking out. But I had no doubts about her loyalty. After the fiasco with my birth mother at Love, I had to truthspell everyone at Balance, including poor Jonata after she arrived to replace Aglaia. My newest warden had responded with grace instead of resentment.

The oddness of the palace atmosphere intruded on my musings. Even with the tall windows pulling light inside from every direction around the hilltop palace, a darkness cloaked the place and the people. The staff murmured in hushed tones, and only spoke when they must. There was none of the gaiety I remembered under Queen Teodora’s reign. Nor did this uneasy quiet feel like grief.

While Queen Chiara was slightly more serious than her mother prior to Teodora’s death, the somber mood didn’t match our new queen’s usual passion either. We had many talks while Queen Chiara and the prince consort sorted out the timeline and the post-fight analysis of the Battle of Tandor. A suspicion murmured in the back of my mind that the solemnity in the palace and the extra grieving banners were connected.

Luc and I followed Prince White Eagle across the palace’s great hall. I wished I could borrow Luc’s sight for a moment to see the details on the tapestries that lined the walls. They described the history of the Chumash people and the coming of the Toscans and Britons to help rebuild after the demons' devastating attack centuries ago. But viewing them for the first time in my life was not to be.

At least, not at the moment with the prince consort’s swift strides.

The prince led us through a door on the right side of the great hall and down another corridor to a receiving room. I’d never been past the public area of the fortress before. The private area’s décor was nearly as austere as that of a Temple of Balance.

A simple large round wooden table sat in the middle of the room. A huge iron chandelier hung over the table, but no alabaster Light globes currently sat on the sockets meant for them. Windows on the southern wall overlooked the central courtyard where the staff worked. Generally, there was laughter. People entertained each other with stories and songs while they went about their tasks. The relative quiet was very odd when the majority of folks down there were Chumash.

Having grown up in Issura, I thought of myself more Chumash than Diné, even though I had no Chumash blood as far as I knew. If I did, it would have come from my maternal grandfather’s line, and Kam was rather sure the majority of his ancestors were Britons from the diaspora with the exception of his own maternal grandmother who was Toscan. He claimed to get his love of fine cooking from her.

To my great relief, neither Reverend Mother Alara of Balance nor Reverend Father Farrell of Light were present in the room when we entered. However, Reverend Father Grey Shadow of Thief was already seated, along with Reverend Mother Sxa’min of Love and High Sister Imala, the projected favorite to replace the leader of their Temple, Reverend Father Ninumu of Knowledge, and Reverend Mother Brigid of Vintner. And of course, their chief wardens. Prince White Eagle quickly made the introductions. No sooner had Luc and I taken our seats the prince indicated next to him when the door opened once again.

Queen Chiara swept into the room. Unlike the gowns her mother preferred, she wore a cotton tunic and leggings along with sturdy boots. The wardens stood at attention as did the two royal guards. The rest of us rose to our feet and bowed. What I didn’t expect was the gigantic dog at the queen’s side. It was easily the size of a small pony. Except…

I cocked my head at the subtle sensation of intelligence in the huge beast’s eyes. A Wildling, I realized. His talent was just underneath obvious perception.

“Sit down,” the queen commanded. “We have too much to discuss to waste the time on frivolity and egos. My love, if you would?”

I half-expected the Temple leaders to be taken aback by the queen’s cavalier attitude. Instead, all of them broke out in grins. Even Luc smirked a bit. We all resumed our seats while the prince warded the room.

When he finished and sat next to his wife, Queen Chiara addressed me.

“Anthea, I don’t get into Temple business—” Her statement elicited chuckles from everyone at the table but me. Even the Wildling laughed like a dog, with his tongue lolling out of the side of his muzzle. “—why didn’t you file formal charges against Ogusuku?”

I shrugged. “It was unnecessary. His true goal was to undermine Reverend Mother Fumiko. When I accidentally fell into a demon hole in Naha, it gave him ammunition to use against her.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Ogusuku, Your Majesty,” Reverend Father Grey Shadow murmured. “With the outcry on Anthea’s behalf, Thief has removed him from office.”

His tone sent a chill down my spine. Ogusuku wasn’t just removed as Ryukyu’s Reverend Father of Thief. He was dead, his ashes scattered Balance knew where.

“Is Reverend Father Biming to be removed as well?” I asked. Surely, Shi Hua would have said something in our weekly talks if he’d been fatally reprimanded by his fellow Reverend Fathers of Thief.

“Should he be?” Grey Shadow’s right eyebrow rose.

I consider my next words carefully since a man’s fate hung on them. “Biming’s purpose has always been to protect Emperor Po. And frankly, no one had ever come back from a demon hole, so I would have had the same suspicions he did. However, he backed off his accusations after I was initially truthspelled. Ogusuku did not. Plus, Reverend Mother Xiang also asked if I was sure I didn’t want to file charges. As I told her, if I weren’t on a diplomatic mission on behalf of the queen of Issura, I would consider it. But Queen Teodora ordered me to get Emperor Po home safely for his coronation. Queen Chiara didn’t countermand that order. To my mind, his safety and that of Empress Shi Hua took precedence over any slight against me.”

I turned to the queen. “Or am I incorrect?”

The corners of the queen’s mouth curved. “You really should have been in Thief.”

“That would not be a good idea, Your Majesty,” I said. “Thief requires subtlety, and I’m about as subtle as a bull in heat.”

The Temple leaders and the prince roared with laughter. Luc, the royal guards, and the wardens snickered. My statement even drew a real smile from the queen.

“We’ll discuss matters regarding Jing later, Anthea.” Queen Chiara sobered. “We have a new problem.”

“The spate of deaths after the loss of your mother.”

“Including my mother.” The queen turned to Reverend Mother Brigid. “Do you have a sample from the shipment you confiscated?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The Reverend Mother pulled a glass vial from a pocket inside her robes. “Whatever you do, Anthea, Luc, please don’t pull out the cork.” She handed the vial to Luc.

I laid a hand on his shoulder and examined the contents through his eyes and my own odd sight before I looked at the Reverend Mother. “I don’t understand. It looks like pain powder.”

“That’s what civilians thought when they took a dose.” Her eyes shimmered with yellow tears. “It’s concentrated soma tears boiled down to a powder form. Only a few grains will kill a child under five winters, elderly adults, or those already in ill health.”

Fury flowed from Queen Chira. “Queen Teodora took a small amount of pain powder every night to ease her joint pain enough to sleep. But with her weak heart, the concentrated tears killed my mother before any of us knew what was happening.”

A Barrel of Vintner - Chapter 3

I'm closing in on 50K words, or approximately the halfway point of A Barrel of Vintner. A lot happens in these last three novel in the Justice series, so they all may be as long as A Cup of Conflict. Here's another tidbit to brighten your weekend!

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When I unfroze the cutpurse from my time bubble, I realized the man was younger than I originally thought. His body shook as if he were in the first throes of a seizure. His color faded to a dull, pale green. Not the grey-green of a skinwalker, but as if he was terrible ill and on the verge of death.

“Please, Justice, behead me now,” he cried. “I can’t endure this agony anymore.”

Before I could answer, Prince White Eagle ordered him taken to the Balance gaol to await trial and to contact him at the palace when the justice assigned to his case needed witness statements. The peacekeepers trussed up the cutpurse and dragged him away to Balance as he wept bitterly, still begging for me to take his head.

I had seen all manner of reactions when a suspect faced the possibility of execution, but I’d never in my thirty-two winters heard one beg for death like this man did.

“Back to the royal carriage,” the prince ordered. Long Feather fell into step on my right while the prince strode on my left. The royal guards marched in front and behind me as they escorted us back to where I’d leapt out of the royal carriage. Obviously, the prince wasn’t taking a chance of me running off on my own again.

“How is the civilian that damned cutpurse attacked?” I asked.

“One of the mounted guards has ridden to the Healers Guild house the next street over,” the prince bit out. “And don’t change the subject, Anthea. What the demon were you thinking?”

“That a woman was attacked and robbed in broad daylight on a street too close to the palace,” I snapped. “No idiot is so bold with an automatic death sentence.” I forced myself to breathe deeply and evenly in order to calm my rapidly beating heart. “Is it correct to connect this man’s actions with what you wish to discuss at the palace?”

“Yes.” The prince’s single word closed any further discussion of the matter.

I swallowed hard. The last thing I needed was to make any enemy of the queen’s husband. But my gut said something else was going on besides the cutpurse’s strange behavior. Whatever it was, the prince wasn’t going to discuss it in public. I wished I had the opportunity to truthspell the cutpurse before the peacekeepers hauled him to Balance. Had he attacked the woman because the terrible pain he claimed he was suffering?

Even if his affliction couldn’t be cured by a master, no Healers Guild member of sound mind would allow a patient to suffer. They’d use pain powder or soma tears if it were the wasting disease.

We reached the intersection as a Healers Guild wagon stopped next to the injured woman. Jonata had tended to her wound while Luc consoled her companion. Someone had collected the rolls and surviving melons and placed them into the fallen women’s baskets. They sat near her companion’s feet.

Yar tied the guild horses to the closest hitching rail. The berda journeyperson and their male apprentice ignored the prince and me as they jumped down, their supply bags in hand, as rushed to their patient. Jonata rose and stepped out of their way, but the injured woman cried out and reached for my warden.

“Stay,” the healer journeyperson ordered. “Keep her calm.”

Jonata crouched by the woman’s head and kept her soothing tone as she stroked the woman’s face and described the beauty of the Sea Peoples’ islands to distract the woman from her pain. The prince waited rather impatiently until the journeyperson said it was time to load the victim into their wagon.

After the healers drove off with the woman, her companion, and their baskets of goods to their guild house, the prince ordered our group back into their respective carriages. He seized my left upper arm to emphasize his command.

As much as I hated being handled in such a manner, I didn’t resist. Looking back at my actions, I realized I’d forgotten everything I learned during my time in Jing. Standora was not my city, and I’d left the prince consort vulnerable to a secondary attack. However, I needed to wait until White Eagle calmed before I offered any apology or amends. The man’s temper wasn’t easy to rouse, but when it was, he was notorious across the queendom for the violence he could inflict.

Once Luc and I were seated, the prince climbed in and glared at me while one of his guards closed the door. I endeavored to keep my expression neutral as I return the prince’s gaze. From Luc’s glances, perhaps I wasn’t as successful as I believed. The prince relaxed a tiny bit once the carriage was moving once again.

“Anthea, you must learn that the entire world does not rest of your shoulders,” he finally said.

“The emperor and empress of Jing have said as much,” I replied. “And all of you are correct, but this was a minor thing—”

But it wasn’t the prince who delivered the expected lecture.

“I can’t follow you into a fight like I used to,” Luc bit out. “And how many Balance wardens must die before you learn to think before you act?”

“Long Feather and Jonata are alive after our six-month journey to Chengzhou and back,” I grumbled.

“Reverend Father Biming lost one of his wardens saving Jonata,” Luc snapped. “Face facts. The whole reason you chose them to accompany you was because they are the youngest and most impressionable of the Orrin Balance squad. They go along with all your mad schemes—”

“I didn’t release one of my wardens from his vows in the middle of our mission—” I started.

“Stop it! Both of you!” The prince rubbed his temples. “I swear you two bicker worse than an elderly married couple.”

“We beg your forgiveness, Your Highness,” Luc murmured. “The last six months have been rather trying.”

I said nothing and settled for glaring at him.

“And I thought many people exaggerated Anthea’s penchant for seeking death until I witnessed it for myself,” the prince replied.

I sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to cool my temper. “I am not trying to get myself killed, Your Highness. The cutpurse would have disappeared into the city if I allowed him to escape. He could have done worse than stab an innocent person running her morning errands.”

“Anthea.” The prince shook his head. “What if he’d been an assassin luring you to your death?”

I opened my mouth to answer before it struck me the prince was correct. I had a breather over the last six months because Po and Shi Hua were the Assassins Guild’s primary targets. Now, that Po sat on Jing’s Dragon Throne and Shi Hua was pregnant with his son, they had plenty of extra protection. Worse, I gave neither of my wardens the opportunity to join me in the chase.

“I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness,” I finally said. “I had the luxury of not being in Issura over the last half year. I allowed my awareness of the true situation to pause for that time period.”

The prince grunted. “That’s the closest to a real apology I’ve heard from you. But you need to remember that the first half of the Skoloti prophecy was fulfilled when Emperor Bao Quan Po took the Jing throne. The second half has yet to be. According to Balance Herself, we have over twenty more years of this war. If you’re the key to the final battle, we have to keep you alive until then. So, no more running off like a disobedient child.”

I bristled at his description of me, but mainly because I hated to admit he was correct. “I hear your words, Your Highness. I will…endeavor to restrain myself in the future.”

“Very well then.” He smiled. “If you fail to do so from now on, I assure you the queen will confine you in the palace dungeon.”

He may be jesting, but I had no doubt Queen Chiara would do exactly that.

Happy New Year!

Here's to a much quieter and prosperous 2026 to us all!

A Barrel of Vintner - Chapter 2

Here's one last little reading tidbit in 2025!

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Once we were in one of the royal carriages with the prince consort and headed for the palace, I noticed the pennants hanging from buildings we passed. There should be only one on each pole for the queen since the formal mourning period hadn’t ended yet. But several of the building sported multiple pennants.

Are all the flags black? I asked Luc. With my odd sight, I couldn’t distinguish conventional cloth colors as they appeared to everyone else.

Luc turned toward me and nodded, but it was Prince White Eagle who spoke silently.

There’s been a series of additional deaths in the city since Queen Teodora’s, Chief Justice, he said. Can you hold your questions until we arrive at the palace? I don’t want to have to explain everything twice, and I want a warded room when we do speak.

Of course, Your Highness. I beg forgiveness. I inclined my head. I meant no disrespect. I was merely shocked by the sheer number of mourning flags.

He nodded in return. His cheeks glowed a brilliant orange, the color of his skin edging into red, while anxiety spilled from his tight shields. Whatever was happening greatly upset the prince.

I had always thought of the prince consort as imperturbable from my personal encounters with him. He’d faced down a demon army outside of Tandor at his wife’s side last year. To feel this kind of worry and nervousness from him was disconcerting at best.

And terrifying at the worst. I feared the reception we might receive from our new liege, Queen Chiara. Which pivoted my own need to do something, anything, into a racing heart and shortness of breath.

“Calm down, Chief Justice,” Luc whispered. “You can’t do anything for the queen or Issura if you allow a fear attack to overwhelm you.”

“If Lord—” I shut my jaw so sharply my teeth clicked. I hated secrets, but accidently revealing the queen’s new distance speaker would be a devastating mistake.

I took a deep breath, then another, counting to five for each inhalation and exhalation. It was a calming technique High Sister Mya had taught me when I was under her care. Our recent voyage to Jing and the dangers we had encountered escorting the new emperor home for his coronation had left the threads of my spirit shredded. And our respite in the Kingdom of O’ahu had been cut short.

When I trusted my voice again, I said, “I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness. I allowed my previous experiences to get the better of me.”

“You’ve faced more demons and skinwalkers than I have,” the prince consort said dryly. “I’ve often wondered if I could keep my head if I experienced everything you’ve been through. Both the queen and I are impressed you haven’t broken under the constant pressure.”

“Maybe not broken, but there are definitely a few cracks, You Highness,” I murmured.

He pursed his lips before he added, “I think you underestimate yourself as much, if not more so, than our enemies do, Chief Justice. Since you’ve had limited contact with us after you left for Jing, we want you to know there’s been a world-wide outcry on your behalf and that of Reverend Mother Fumiko over Reverend Father Ogusuku’s ill-considered actions.”

“I’m more concerned about Reverend Father Grey Shadow’s opinion of me because his influence would affect my working relationship with High Brother Talbert in Orrin,” I replied.

The prince consort smirked. “You can ask the Reverend Father yourself when we reach the palace.”

“He’ll be there?” Luc asked when my own words failed me.

Prince Consort White Eagle nodded.

My experiences with Reverend Father Ogusuku of Ryukyu and Reverend Father Biming of Jing had left a bad taste in my mouth. Both leaders of their respective nation’s Temple of Thief had plotted to have me executed for demon dealing when all I did was survive after I fell through a demon portal during the Batttle of Naha. I accepted Biming’s apology for his part in Ogusuku’s trumped up charges more for the sake of Emperor Po and Empress Shi Hua than for mine. I considered the imperial couple personal friends after all the demon-related muck we’d waded through together over the last two years. They needed the backing of the Jing Temples, so I made pleasantries with Biming, though I didn’t really trust him anymore despite his efforts to win back my favor.

While there wasn’t a thing I could do about Ogusuku, the fact that the rest of the Temple heads questioned his abilities and judgment would hopefully plant a seed of doubt in Ryukyu’s high brothers and high sisters of Thief. However, when that seed sprouted, would they hold a vote of no confidence in Ogusuku’s leadership?

I wasn’t arrogant enough to pray to the Twelve for such an outcome. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t hope Balance’s scales would mete out Her own justice when it came to the pompous ass.

Nor could I allow my biases to ruin a working relationship with Reverend Father Grey Shadow. Mostly because I depended too much on High Brother Talbert and his staff’s assistance in dealing with renegades and demons in Orrin.

It had been nearly six months since the last time I spoke directly with Talbert. Both he and Luc had surprised me when they bet on me and Talbert’s second Sister Cedar Grove to tie in the final game of our Mill tournament last winter.

The same night the former emperor of Jing Chengwu and his family were slaughtered by demons.

To distract myself from my morbid thoughts, I turned my head to watch the citizens on the streets through the carriage’s small window. People should have been in a better mood with the glorious early summer weather. However, everyone we passed appeared in melancholy spirits. Even accounting for the royal mourning period and the large amount of additional recent deaths, the very air itself seemed to drip with sadness and despair.

If there had been another demon attack in Issura, the citizens would have displayed grim determination. Very little could overwhelm the survival instinct in human beings. This strange emotional air was something else entirely.

Even as the thought passed through my head, a man with a blade in hand charged into two women carrying market baskets and knocked them face-first onto the street. Baked rolls and first-of-the-season melons scattered from the baskets.

The man ignored the food. Instead, he slashed the melon woman’s carry pouch from her belt. No, he didn’t just cut the pouch free. Bright pink blood seeped into her clothing and spread in an ugly pattern.

“Stop the carriage!” I open the door and leapt out before the wheels quit rolling.

“Anthea!” Luc roared behind me.

But I sprinted across the cobblestones and raced after the cutpurse. His long legs ate up ground as he darted and wove around the pedestrians, oxen, and horses. If I didn’t do something soon, he’d simply outrun me.

Lightning would have stopped him, but there were too many innocents nearby. I couldn’t risk accidentally killing them. A time freeze spell wouldn’t work effectively on a wide-open boulevard such as this. But a rewind of time might startle him enough for me to catch up. I slowed, crouched, and slapped my palms on the dusty cobblestones.

A pulse of magic created a short loop, replaying the actions of people and animals from the last one hundred-twenty heartbeats. The spell wouldn’t last long. I jumped to my feet and raced after the cutpurse.

Crys of alarm rose on the street. The images appeared more solid to the humans and animals around me. As I hoped, the cutpurse dodged the past images of horses. I simply ran through the misty figures.

He skidded on his boots as he circled around a stack of wooden boxes near the entrance of a dry goods store. With a series of running leaps, I climbed the pile amid more shouts and dove for the man as he ran past.

We tumbled to the cobblestones. He rolled so he pinned me to the cobblestones, and he aimed a fist at my face. I froze time around him.

I was surrounded by merchants and peacekeepers by the time I painfully crawled out from underneath his body. Thankfully, this didn’t occur in Orrin. I wouldn’t have to endure Master Healer Bly and my head of household Sivan’s lectures about the bruises that would cover my body by tomorrow morning.

It didn’t help when a peacekeeper jerked me to my feet. A bushy blue mustache and beard bristled with his outrage. “Idiot! Don’t you know justices aren’t sighted? What in the Twelve do you think you’re playing at?”

When he shook me, my hood fell back. At the vision of my red eyes, he abruptly released me. Whispers of “the Red Justice” filtered through the crowd.

The prince consort and two of his guards raced up to us along with Long Feather. The people surrounding me automatically bowed. Long Feather covered his mouth with his free hand, no doubt to stifled his laughter. However, the prince glared at me.

“What in the Twelve do you think you’re doing, Chief Justice?” he barked.

Maybe I wasn’t going to evade a lecture after all.

A Question for My Readers

I'm planning to release hardbacks for the 10th Anniversary of the Justice series late next year. The hardback with have all new covers as well, and I hope to do something bling-y like maps and painted edges.

How would you like a bling-y illustrated encyclopedia to go along with the series? I'm thinking foil trim and gilded edging in a very nice hardback collector's volume. It wouldn't come out until 2027, but I would need to start it now to have it ready in time to print by 2027.

What's everyone's thoughts on the idea? 

A Barrel of Vintner - Chapter 1

Since I'm not doing the Kickstarter campaign for The Books of Apep series until March, here's a little taste of the next Justice novel, the unedited first chapter of A Barrel of Vintner!

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I stood on the bow of the Duke of Orrin’s flagship, the Mars Tranquilus. The mountains of Issura and the narrow entrance to the Bay of Standora could be made out in the distance. King Keanu of O’ahu had loaned us three of his best wind talents, including his own Senior Captain Iakepa. They managed to shave six days off the month-long sea voyage home from the island nation.

Despite the sun’s warmth on this cloudless day, ice coated my heart. The news of Queen Teodora’s death had been a bitter reminder of my own goddess’s role after we managed to save Emperor Po of Jing from internal dissension, demon attacks, and the efforts of his late mother’s husband to destroy him.

Balance in all things had become an ill jest in my life.

Bootsteps came from behind me. My warden Long Feather gripped the railing as I did in our headlong rush to reach the capital.

“Staring at the land will not make the ship sail faster, m’lady.”

I didn’t look at him. “I’m very much aware I’m not a wind talent, Warden.”

“Nor can you turn back time,” he replied evenly. “It was no secret the queen was ill before the Winter Solstice. Long before Emperor Chengwu’s assassination.”

We’d been ordered to escort Bao Quan Po, the former Jing ambassador, home three weeks after Balance’s long night. After his brother the former Jing emperor, the empress, and their two sons were slaughtered in a demon attack on the imperial palace, Po was the sole remaining member of the immediate Bao line.

At least until his wife, the Empress Shi Hua, safely delivered her babe.

“And now, we are a week away from the Summer Solstice, Warden,” I snapped. “What’s your point?”

He leaned his elbows on the rail. Sea spray coated his hair and uniform as it covered mine. “My point is Queen Chiara and Prince Consort White Eagle trust you, m’lady. Maybe you should give them a little bit of trust in return. Surely, their distance speaker would have told you if more was going on in Issura.”

Long Feather’s observation only added to my irritation. Lord Ayatulutul’s reticence at giving me and High Brother Luc any additional information on the days we were scheduled to speak annoyed me. He merely said our new queen needed us home as soon as possible, but he never included our new queen or her husband in any of these contacts.

I hadn’t been able to speak with Justices Yanaba or Elizabeth since we arrived at the imperial palace in Jing. I hadn’t realized how much I’d depended on Empress Shi Hua’s own distance speaking abilities.

Of course, that was before she became empress of Jing. When she was Sister Shi Hua of Light and Ambassador Quan’s bodyguard. That seemed like yesterday and forever ago at the same time.

“Chief Justice Anthea?”

I turned to find Captain Titus’s second officer Little Squirrel approaching me.

She bowed. “High Brother Luc says the queen’s distance speaker has notified him that a royal escort will be waiting for you at the pier when we dock. Perhaps you would like to refresh yourself before your audience with Her Majesty.”

Her statement wasn’t a question.

I snorted. “You and I both know you can speak plainer than that, Second Officer.”

The smaller woman shot me an impish grin. “Very well then. We are making a high-speed approach to the bay’s entrance. The dock master is clearing traffic for us. And Captain Titus wants you off the deck of the Mars Tranquilus because he already doesn’t like risking his own people in these maneuvers, much less the queen’s ambassadors. High Brother Luc and his warden have already retreated to your cabin, and Warden Jonata said if you don’t come down of your own accord, she will assist me in dragging you to your cabin as well.”

Beside me, Long Feather failed to stifle his own bark of laughter.

“You are fortunate I don’t wish to waste my time charging all of you with insubordination,” I snapped before I stomped down the port-side steps of the forecastle.

When I reached the main deck, I strode over to Captain Titus who was bellowing orders. He paused at my approach.

“A simple request is sufficient, Captain,” I spat. “Threats are unnecessary.”

He glared at me over his bushy beard that displayed his Old Continent heritage. “Apparently, they are since you’re not in your cabin yet, Lady Justice.”

I muttered a Jing slur that questioned his mother’s choice of bed partners before I whirled on my boot heel and headed for our quarters. His first and second officers had given up their private cabin for Luc, our wardens, and me. However, my temper had become rather short after our abbreviated visit to O’ahu.

Worse, I hadn’t had a chance to taste more of the Sea Peoples’ famed underground-roasted pig at the Duke of Mau’i’s feast.

When I entered the cabin, Luc, his warden Yar, and my second warden Jonata sat at the table. All three wore smirks.

“None of this is funny,” I snapped.

“No,” Luc said. “It’s predictable. I warned Titus you like being on deck whenever you sail to Standora.”

“There’s no reason—” I started.

“The Bay of Standora is nothing like Orrin’s harbor. The captain will be making a sharp starboard turn when we clear the bay entrance.” Jonata lifted her chin. “With the nasty currents of the bay, the rocks on the southside entrance, and our current speed, the crew cannot afford to make mistakes. You, as the queen’s ambassador, are a major distraction for them.” Her skin grew more orange with each word, and her wave of fury slammed against my mental shields.

“Very well then.” I sat on the bench beside her. Long Feather took the seat next to me. “What’s your recommendation, Warden?”

“We wait patiently, m’lady,” Jonata said primly. “As the Mars Tranquilus completes her maneuvers, enough of our velocity will be shed the crew can then dock safely. After that, you can run to the palace for all I care, and when you trip over a cobblestone and land flat on your face, I will laugh my ass off.”

I blinked. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re Chief Warden Little Bear wearing a glamour.”

The three men broke out in loud laughter while Jonata narrowed her eyes.

“My orders from the chief warden were to get you back to Issura alive,” she snapped. “He did not specify where in Issura. Nor did he say uninjured. If you feel the need to replace me, tell me now, and I’ll report to the Wardens Academy for reassignment as soon as we disembark.”

I blinked again. Jonata had blossomed into a wonderful warden in the nearly year and a half since she had been assigned to the Temple of Balance in Orrin. My Temple. And here I was, taking out my own fears and anger on someone who had stayed by my side constantly for the last six months. All the gold in the world couldn’t buy that kind of loyalty.

I sucked in a deep breath and released it.

“I apologize for my words and actions, Warden Jonata. I have no excuse for mistreating you.” I drew another breath. “I don’t want you to leave my service, but I understand if my actions make you feel you need to ask for a reassignment.”

She relaxed at my words. “I don’t wish to leave, m’lady, and I understand I’m one of the lowest ranked Balance wardens in Orrin. However, after everything we’ve been through, I thought I’d earned your respect.”

“You have. But I’ve lost so many of your fellow wardens, I fear losing you and Long Feather as well. You’ve b-become dear t-to me,” I choked out.

To my surprise, they both hugged me.

“We feel their loss, too, m’lady,” Long Feather whispered.

Jonata sniffed. “I didn’t know Aglaia, but Tyra and Mylon didn’t regret for one instant their service to you or the Temple. And you’re are not responsible for any of their deaths. No one could have predicted those events.”

“Our predecessors became complacent after a century without demon attacks,” Yar said. “It’s our duty to rectify that complacency. All of ours, clergy and wardens alike.”

“You speak wise words, my friend.” Luc clasped Yar’s shoulder.

My wardens released me, and we all pretended not to be emotional.

Long Feather rose. “Jonata switch places with me.”

She nodded, and they quickly switched seats. I didn’t have to ask. The upcoming turn of the ship meant we’d be slung towards the starboard side. Since both Long Feather and I were larger than the diminutive Jonata, we could possibly injure her severely.

The shouted orders of the deck couldn’t drown the calls of the gulls. But when Titus’s bellow signaled the next maneuver, even my stomach heaved as the Mars Tranquilus nearly laid on its side to make the turn toward the Standora docks.

The tingle of magic flowed over my skin as the wind talents guided the ship to its assigned berth at a more sedate pace. My fellow passengers and I stood to wipe the salt from our skins and change clothes. I’d kept one of the uniforms Jing’s Reverend Mother Xiang of Balance had gifted me in reserve for disembarking. A month at sea and minimal use of our fresh water supplies left too much of my own body odor for even me to tolerate.

Little Squirrel knocked on our cabin door and poke her head inside. “It’s clear to come out, Chief Justice, High Brother.”

The crew were lowering the ramp as we exited the cabin. Even my odd eyesight could pick out the queen’s guard and the prince consort without the dock workers giving them a wide berth.

Yar hovered over Luc as he made his way down the gangplank with his specially designed steel crutches. I followed with my own wardens right behind me.

Prince White Eagle stood in front of the queen’s guard with a wide smile. “Welcome home, Ambassadors.”

To our surprise, he hugged both Luc and me. The prince was a giant of a man like Yar. Easily a couple of palms taller than Luc and me.

We’re heading straight to the palace. Our queen needs to speak with you at once.

Concern rankled me. Not the prince’s use of silent speech. He was former Temple like Empress Shi Hua. But the worry and fear at his mental touch. Something was terribly wrong.

“The queen wishes to honor you for the excellent job you did in Jing,” the prince continued out loud.

“We are here to serve,” I murmured as both Luc and I bowed to him. Our wardens followed suit. Their tension permeated my own.

Before we could say our farewells to Captain Titus and the crew of the Mars Tranquilus, the queen’s guard surrounded us, and we were forced to follow the prince to the waiting carriages.

I glanced at Luc. His frown said volumes.

Say nothing, my love, he whispered in my mind. There are too many ears here.

So, he noticed the two Thief spies as well. Scanning the crowd, I realized too many people took notice of our arrival.

And for once, they weren’t consumed by the usual gossip about my blood red eyes.

I'm Still Kicking!

I know, I know. I haven't written a blog post in over two months. A lot of life rolls happened.

It started with a traffic accident a few days after my last post. Thank goodness, the other driver wasn't injured, but I heavily bruised my left hand, including a torn vein. It looked pretty bad, but no broken bones, thank Goddess! Unfortunately, the injury limited my time on the computer for a week.

I'd also planned to launch a Kickstarter campaign for The Books of Apep series with gorgeous specialty hardcovers. On top of my hand injury, Tribblehead launched a full-in tariff war with China where a lot of specialty books are printed, and the Kickstarter Union went on strike just to keep the benefits they currently had. I thought I'd be able to move the campaign from the beginning of the month to the end of the month. It soon became clear that I might not be able to deliver any rewards in a timely manner, so I never launched the campaign.

*sigh*

I've been planning this dang campaign for the last two years. On the positive side, I will try again in March now that the strike is settled and trade between China and the U.S. is flowing again. But to go into all the vagaries of Kickstarter will require a whole explanation of its own, which I will post later this month.

Then DH and I have had to scramble because because our home insurance was cancelled. State Farm didn't like that our sump pump has backed up twice in four years. We know the cause (not us!), and DH is looking into legal action against the neighbors who will NOT fucking maintain their pond. When the pond overflows it turns our yard into a lake. Complete with mallards teaching their ducklings to swim.

On top of that, our antique car insurance policy was cancelled because I've been involved in two accidents over the last thirteen months. The sad part is I don't drive the older cars, and the vehicle involved in the two accidents isn't on the antique policy. The decision only harms DH because he likes to take the collectibles to car shows.

With all the craziness, I didn't make it to my cousin's in October like I planned. Instead, I drove down for her birthday the week before Thanksgiving. It was nice to get away from the stress at home for a little while.

But while I was gone, one of my sisters-in-law (SIL #2) fell and broke her humerus (the upper arm bone) of her dominant hand. It made things difficult, so SIL #4 stayed with her the week of Thanksgiving, then I drove to Indiana and stayed with her last week. SIL #2 is doing much better now.

In between the major issues, I've been alternating writing with unpacking moving boxes. Yes, these are the boxes from when we moved into this house five years ago. The place is slowly taking shape and finally starting to look like a home.

So, that's where we are Casa Harden. It hasn't been one of my better years for writing, but I'm looking forward to finishing my partly written projects and getting them out to all of you. 

Including the last three novels of the Justice series.

Keeping my fingers crossed that 2026 will be a much smoother year.