Chapter 44
Forty-Four
Ivy
I’m just pulling on my leather sparring vest when a hand comes to rest on my shoulder.
“I can help you with that.”
I peer up at Stavros through my eyelashes as he hooks the loops down one side and then the other, his fingers sparking tingles over my skin through my shirt. “I have managed to do it up just fine on my own all those times before.”
He hums, a soft rumble that makes my nerves flutter even more. “I like that you’ll let me.” His head dips lower as his hand slides across my waist. “And it puts me in a perfect position to do this.”
His mouth claims mine before I can say anything else, but at that point I’m not interested in arguing anyway. Being wooed by the exalted former General Stavros is an unexpectedly intoxicating experience.
And his ex-fiancée gave this up because he wasn’t riding off into battle trying to get himself killed every other day? I don’t know anything about her other than her status, but I’m pretty confident in saying she’s an idiot.
Julita giggles. You know, I wasn’t sure if Stavros would be all that talented at kissing. I’m glad I lingered long enough to be proven wrong.
There’s enough genuine glee in her voice that I don’t worry she’s bottling up more jealousy. The new biggest problem in our friendship may be having to decide just how much detail I’m willing to go into about the intimate parts she’s withdrawn for.
That thought reminds me of all the other ways Stavros and I need to be circumspect about our newfound closeness.
I ease back reluctantly. “When we leave this room, we’re going to have to pretend things are still tense between us. If anyone associated with Torstem realizes we might be colluding after all…”
Stavros nods before I have to finish my statement. “I’m not looking forward to it, but I can glower and grouse at you if it’ll shield you from worse harm.” He glides his fingertips along my jaw in one last caress. “As long as you remember it is all an act.”
I grin at him. “I don’t think my memories of last night are going to fade that quickly.”
But there are plenty of other memories to cast a pall over the day ahead. As we step into the hall, keeping a careful distance apart, my gaze slips along the row of doors toward Ster. Torstem’s quarters farther down.
How long of a reprieve will I get before I need to spill his blood or betray the king?
I have the sudden urge to shove Stavros back into his quarters, to signal Alek and Casimir and spend whatever time I have left soaking up all the happiness I can squeeze out of this life. I don’t know how much of a life I’ll have left once I’ve carried out King Konram’s orders.
As simple as the king made the job sound, with every passing hour the knowledge weighs on me that there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to escape in the chaos after the assassination. Torstem’s end may be mine too.
But I have to admit that one life to rid the continent of a new scourge sorcerer uprising seems more than fair. I knew the risks when I set off on this path.
So I simply clench my hands at my sides and stalk along behind Stavros as if resenting my duties, all the way down to the training field.
Assisting with the combat class isn’t so bad. These students have sparred with me enough to grant me a little respect.
I throw myself into the moment, clashing blades with the opponents Stavros sets me against and tossing out snarky remarks as if I’m every bit the rebel. It’s a better distraction than moping around the campus on my own.
When the former general’s back is turned, Olari shoots me a conspiratorial smile.
Does he know I saw him unmasked at the initiation ceremony? Or maybe he’s simply anticipating that I’ll put the pieces together when I join him for this evening’s meeting of the bug club.
Despite my feigned friction with Stavros, I do my best to put on a supportive face with the students. Most of them have nothing to do with the mess I’ve gotten myself into.
I don’t need more enemies on top of those I already have to contend with.
Speaking of potential enemies, this is one of the classes Petra joins the military division for. I contrive to avoid facing her throughout the various exercises Stavros assigns, but the distant royal has an unfortunate stubborn streak.
When I’ve finished hauling our equipment back into the storage building at the end of the class, I emerge from the room to find Petra standing in the building’s dim hallway.
There’s no one else around. It’s obvious she’s waiting for me.
I debate going so far as to stride right past her, but such a blatant snub feels unwise. So I stop and give her my best blank expression instead. “Was there something you needed?”
Petra’s dark gaze flicks around us, as if she’s as alert to possible eavesdroppers as I am. She steps closer, pitching her voice low. “I wanted to speak with you—briefly. I won’t delay you for very long.”
I fold my arms over my chest with a conscious effort to keep them loose rather than defensively tight. “Speak to me about what?”
Petra studies me for a few seconds, her pensive gaze uncomfortably keen. “I understand why you’ve rebuffed and avoided me, and I don’t blame you for it. I shouldn’t have put you in an awkward situation to begin with.”
My stomach knots, but I knit my brow with honest confusion. “What are you talking about?”
She makes a dismissive gesture. “That’s not the important part. The main thing I wanted to say is… When someone asks too much of you, it’s reasonable to refuse. The people with the most power aren’t always right.”
A sinking sensation ripples through me from throat to gut. She can’t possibly know—surely King Konram wouldn’t have discussed his secret assassination plans with his niece however many times removed, of all people?
I’m not sure I believe he’d even tell the queen.
I can’t stop my voice from stiffening slightly. “I don’t quite follow what you mean. Ster. Stavros hasn’t asked anything all that immense of me. I’m happy to do my job.”
It’s the response she should expect from someone who hasn’t been given a different, horrible job by a figure with a lot more power than my employer, but the intensity in Petra’s smooth face doesn’t shift.
“Maybe you’re not sure you can say no outright,” she says. “But you can pick your own methods to achieve the same goal. Do it your way, the way that feels right to you. That’s all the gods want from us. I’m sorry.”
She turns on her heel and hurries out of the storage building without another word. Her last two words ring in my head.
Somehow the apology unsettles me more than anything else.
Well, Julita says in a doubtful tone. What in the realms was she getting at?
I lift my shoulders in a tiny shrug, but my stomach keeps churning.
It certainly sounded as if Petra knows what I’ve been asked to do. Even if she doesn’t—would her suggestion still apply?
Gods smite me, why should I listen to some minor royal’s opinions anyway? It isn’t her neck on the line with the scourge sorcerers or the king.
But through the rest of the day, Petra’s words keep niggling at me.
I’m already carrying out the king’s command “my way,” aren’t I? I’ll be using my stealth and my knife, the tools I’ve relied on so often in the past.
Of course, Petra has no idea who I’ve been in the past. Does she think her distant uncle instructed me on exactly how to kill Ster. Torstem, and there might be some other method of murder I’d prefer?
Or did she mean something else entirely?
And what in the realms would the god who’s kept me alive this far want, anyway? Kosmel is continuing to be frustratingly silent on that subject.
I have to push all those unsettling questions aside when I make my way to the entomology club’s room in the Quadring. This time I get to enter it through the door rather than slipping through a window.
Having experienced the space before, I’m prepared for the mix of woodsy and sour scents and the ever-present rustling of the club room’s smallest inhabitants. Still, my skin creeps as I step inside.
Although to be fair, the human inhabitants are at least as much to blame for that.
Olari looks up from where he’s standing near a row of terrariums with two other students I recognize from Alek’s sketches and my own furtive observations. He dips his head to me in acknowledgment.
Several other students glance over from their places amid the tanks and tables to take in the newcomer. Some I recognize as other likely conspirators. The others are probably innocent dupes who think this organization really is just about an interest in insect life.
And then, naturally, there’s our valiant leader, Ster. Torstem.
The law professor strides over and beckons me farther into the room. “Ivy of Nikodi. I heard you’d expressed an interest in joining our little cabal here.” He chuckles lightly as if “cabal” isn’t actually a more accurate word to describe what he’s been running than “club.”
He told me exactly how to reply, even if he doesn’t realize I know he was the one giving the instructions.
I offer an ingratiating smile. “I’ve always been curious about the smallest of our world’s creatures. I heard you’ve collected several rare specimens.”
“Indeed we have! Come in, come in. Let me show you a few that we’re particularly proud of.”
He sets his hand on my shoulder to guide me forward. In the back of my head, Julita’s presence shudders the way I wish I could.
I don’t approve of King Konram assigning you to be a murderer, she mutters, but if you have to murder someone, I can’t say I mind it being this slimy traitor.
I can’t help but share her sentiment.
Ster. Torstem points out a pair of beetles with iridescent shells that change color depending on the angle of the light, a moth that looks identical to the leaves on the branch in its enclosure, and a ruddy-shelled centipede as thick as my thumb and twice as long.
I gamely ooh and aah over them while sending silent thanks to Creaden for the thick construction of the habitats’ walls.
I wouldn’t say I’m particularly squeamish after my years living on the streets, but if that last creature scrambled its many legs up my arm, I think I might scream.
Torstem introduces me to the other club members in attendance, focusing on Olari’s trio and the others whose names I’m familiar with.
“I believe you’ll be with our fields group to start,” he says in a casually authoritative tone.
“It’s too unwieldly for all of us to make our expeditions together, so we’ve divided into fields and forests, switching things up halfway through the year.
Luckily for you, we have a fields expedition coming up in just a couple of nights, if you’re able to join us.
It’s right before break-day, so it shouldn’t interfere with your assistant position. ”
A couple of nights?
A chill sweeps through my body, but I keep my smile plastered in place. “I’m sure I can arrange that. I’ll look forward to the trip.”
In just two days, I’m supposed to kill this man.
Torstem simply smiles back, oblivious to my true intentions. “Wonderful. You’ll be a welcome addition to our team.”
Even if my head is whirling, I’m supposed to make a show of having a real interest in the club.
I wander along the shelves of tanks, watching the various insects navigate their manufactured habitats.
I can’t shake the feeling that the walls have closed in on me as tightly as those surrounding the bug club’s many tiny prisoners.
At one table, a couple of the members who must be from the forests group are adding soil to the base of a large, open-topped terrarium. I gravitate toward them. It might be nice to talk to someone who isn’t scheming to topple civilization as we know it.
“What are you setting this one up for?” I ask.
The guy pats down the soil around a small metal trough with pebbles along the bottom. “We’re hoping to find a glowdid on our next trip out. They only show themselves for a few weeks during the early summer. The club’s never had one before.”
“They’re awfully quick too,” explains the woman next to him. “And of course we don’t want to harm the one we catch.”
“I think we have a good chance.” The guy brushes his fingers over the small shrub planted at one end of the tank. “Glowdids only eat pilmetta leaves, and it’s notoriously difficult to grow them inside. But we’ve gotten this one to thrive. Prospira must support our quest.”
The woman sketches her fingers down her front in the gesture of the divinities. “I think we should take it as a sign of approval. Maybe not of catching one, but of our overall goal, at least.”
A quiver of sharper alertness runs through my nerves. Those words echo back to something Petra said.
I cock my head. “Your overall goal?”
The woman nods enthusiastically. “We’d like to catch a couple of glowdids in order to study and even breed them.
But the most important part is simply observing them and getting a better understanding of their behavior, even if it’s only in their normal environment.
Their numbers have been dwindling lately.
We’d like to find a way to help their population stay healthy and secure. ”
Different methods to achieve the same goal. Another quiver races straight down the middle of me. “That makes sense. I hope you can manage it.”
I meander on, my eyes turned toward the next set of terrariums but my mind drifting far beyond this room.
The king’s goal isn’t really to have me murder Ster. Torstem. It’s to end the threat the scourge sorcerers present. He simply thinks their leader’s death is the likeliest way to ensure that outcome, and I’m the tool most readily available.
What if there’s something that could destroy the conspiracy without me having to stain my hands with all that blood?