Chapter 18
Eighteen
Ivy
After he’s laid out the rings of cord, Stavros points to mine. “You go first.”
Like usual. Like he thinks I’m going to inflict something terrible on his quarters if he leaves while I’m still here—as if I don’t have access all day long anyway.
He’s been even surlier and more prone to glowers all morning, though he hasn’t said much. I’m not sure if he’s forgotten our strained conversation after I woke him up last night or if he’s simply pretending it never happened.
I don’t particularly want to dwell on the way he snapped at me—the way he looked at me, like I’d just eviscerated someone—either. I’ll take avoidance over a repeat.
“Ladies first, after all,” I say with wry primness, and step into the ring.
Even after several rounds of practice, the sudden lurch of magical transportation makes my pulse stutter. I step out of the matching ring in the palace meeting room with a slight wobble in my step.
Alek is already there, waiting right by my looped cord. At my arrival, his face brightens so visibly even with his mask back in place that I can’t stop myself from smiling giddily in return.
What happened between us last night was real. Right here in this room, he cherished me like I was one of the noble ladies he should be looking to for a match.
No, he cherished me like he’d rather have a thief from Slaughterwell than any kind of lady.
Alek grasps my hand, both to give it an affectionate squeeze and to pass on a small packet. “I thought I should get this to you right away.”
The mirewort. I’ll chew on a leaf when I have a little more privacy.
Because before I’ve even had a chance to tuck the packet away, Stavros is emerging from his ring, eyeing the two of us with a puzzled frown.
I’m not sure I want to deal with the former general’s reaction to our newfound closeness. But I don’t want to pull away from Alek as if in rejection.
Thankfully, the scholar seems to have a similar sense of discretion. He bobs his head to Stavros in greeting while stroking his thumb over my knuckles in one small caress and then eases back. “It’s wonderful that Ivy returned to us unharmed, isn’t it?”
As if he’d only approached me in friendly welcome.
Stavros appears to take the comment in stride, although he doesn’t stop frowning. “There certainly could have been worse outcomes.”
I restrain myself from rolling my eyes and surreptitiously slip the packet into my pocket. “I should check the room for any roaming magical vermin.”
Just as I finish my circuit of the space, Casimir and Benedikt arrive within seconds of each other. Both men brighten in their own ways when they see me: the courtesan with one of his soft smiles and the bastard’s bastard with a typical smirk.
I set off a signal through my locket this morning as planned, so they knew I’d returned, but I can imagine they were a little worried all the same.
“You survived the start of your scourge sorcery initiation,” Benedikt says in a teasing tone, sprawling in the chair at the foot of the table. “Soon you’ll be a fully-fledged menace.”
I manage to laugh, but Stavros stiffens—enough that I see Benedikt mark his response with a furrow in his brow.
Casimir slides a box across the table to interrupt the awkward moment. “Since Benedikt set the precedent yesterday, I thought I’d bring a treat to celebrate Ivy’s initial success. One of my dormmates who’s on the culinary track had a batch of chocolates to sell.”
The sight of the glossy brown orbs laid out in the box has my mouth watering. I lean over to snatch one up. “That was a fantastic idea. Thank you.”
He passes paper-thin linen napkins around the table, and even Stavros concedes to taking a chocolate. The former general holds it in his hand without taking a bite and fixes his stare back on me. “Are you going to tell us what happened during your ‘victory,’ Ivy?”
I sink my teeth into the bonbon and pause for a moment to let the richly sweet flavor with its edge of bitterness lace my mouth. There’s nothing wrong with using a treat to bolster my spirits.
“I’m not sure it was much of an initiation yet,” I say.
“It felt like they were merely feeling me out. They were obviously trying not to give much away. I couldn’t even tell how many people were watching or where they were—the one who spoke to me stayed hidden and used some kind of magic to project their voice from different directions. ”
The eager gleam in Alek’s eyes dims. “So you wouldn’t be able to identify any other conspirators yet?”
I shake my head. “I guess it makes sense. They don’t know if they can trust me yet, so why would they risk showing themselves?”
“It isn’t surprising,” Casimir agrees. “What did they say to you?”
Julita gives a little shudder in the back of my skull. Rather a lot of madness.
I rub my mouth, thinking back to the conversation.
“They talked a lot about the All-Giver. I got the impression that they think they’re doing things the Great God would approve of, or that they can make an appeal even though it’s been ages since the All-Giver abandoned us.
And they’re obviously dissatisfied with the current ruling powers, although they were careful not to come right out and say they want to overthrow the Melchioreks. ”
Benedikt lets out a rough guffaw. “I suppose that confirms who’s been encouraging the rumors that the daimon were acting out to spite the royal family.”
I nod. “Undermining King Konram’s rule might have been the main purpose of their plans all along. Create as much turmoil as possible and blame it on how things are being run at the palace.”
Stavros finally pops the chocolate into his mouth and manages to look angry about the fact that he’s chewing it. “What exactly makes them so upset with our current ruler?”
I spread my hands. “I’ve got no idea. They didn’t bother to mention that part. I think they’re waiting to see if I prove loyal before getting into any detail.”
Alek tenses where he’s standing next to me. “How are they testing your loyalty?”
“Well, first they had me spill a little blood to honor the All-Giver.” I hold up my hand, where the Elox-blessed bandage I’ve since discarded left me with just a pale scar. “And they gave me some secret object I’m supposed to leave at the Temple of the Crown tonight.”
Stavros’s eyes narrow. “What sort of object?”
“I don’t know. One of their conditions is that I’m not supposed to open the pouch it’s in. They must have some way of telling if I do. But I think it’s a sham anyway. They made a big deal about the powerful magic it’s supposedly imbued with, but I can’t—”
I cut myself off, remembering at the last second that Benedikt doesn’t know I can sense magic. He doesn’t have any reason to think I should be capable of doing so without my revealing the cracks in my soul.
Stavros, of course, has no concern for my need for caution. Although he might not realize what I was going to say. “You can’t what?”
I choose my next words carefully. “I can’t see how it’s likely they’d give anything all that powerful to a candidate they’ve barely talked to.
It’s got to be a decoy so they can see how I’ll handle it without overplaying their hand.
Having held it, I just have a feeling that there isn’t much to it. ”
I aim a pointed look at the former general with those last words, willing him to remember that the part of me he hates also means my “feeling” on this matter should be trusted.
He scowls. “And what are we risking by going by your gut?”
“They hinted that the object would be used to hurt the ruling powers somehow. Very vaguely, for plausible deniability, but it seemed clear they wanted me to think that. I’d imagine they’ll be watching closely to confirm that I follow their instructions and that no unexpected contingent of guards shows up at the temple to arrest whoever comes to retrieve it. ”
Casimir hums to himself. “They want to know that you’ll go along with their plans rather than turning them in once actual harm might be done.”
“I think so.”
Benedikt looks unusually pensive. “We can’t be sure, though. Before we potentially put a weapon in our enemies’ hands, we should ensure it won’t do any significant damage.”
“If Ivy says this is the safest way, we should trust her,” Alek says, a little too quickly.
When Benedikt casts a puzzled gaze his way, maybe wondering why the man who’s normally the most cautious of us all is advocating for jumping in feet-first, the scholar recovers as well as he can.
“She’s the one who spoke to them. She has a much better idea of the situation than any of us. ”
Benedikt glances at Stavros next, probably thinking the former general will back him up, but Stavros simply grimaces in resignation. “The thief does also have plenty of experience with trickery. If we give the sorcerers any indication that she’s tipped someone off, our whole stratagem falls apart.”
The furrow in Benedikt’s forehead deepens. “There must be some subtle way we can—”
“She follows through with the orders, and we keep our eyes open as we have all along,” Stavros interrupts brusquely. “Don’t you go tattling to anyone at the palace, unless you want to go to the king with total failure of the mission he assigned to us next.”
Benedikt shuts his mouth. The bewilderment in his eyes wrenches at me, but I don’t know how to reassure him.
I’m going to have to share my secret with him eventually, aren’t I? How long can we keep going like this?
But just imagining confessing to him makes me queasy.
“I won’t jeopardize the mission,” Benedikt says quietly after a moment, with a tip of his head to me that’s almost apologetic. He squares his shoulders. “I’ll do whatever I can to help without getting in your way.”
I offer him a grateful, guilty smile. “Thank you.”
“Did the conspirators give any indication of when they’d reach out to you again?” Alek asks.