Chapter 45
Forty-Five
Alek
When I step through the cord into the palace meeting room at our scheduled time and find only Stavros waiting, my pulse hiccups. “Isn’t Ivy—”
“The bug club meeting ran a little long, but she’s fine,” he says from where he’s sitting at the table, before I need to finish my anxious question. “She didn’t end up eating beforehand, so she ran to grab something from the dining hall before she’ll join us.”
The momentary panic that gripped me eases. I walk over to the table, but I still feel too anxious to sit down.
Stavros’s expression is grim. It’s hard to relax when even a former general who’s survived a hundred battles looks uneasy about a situation.
My fingers curl around the top of the chair. “Did she tell you anything about what went on with the entomology club?”
Stavros’s mouth tightens even more before he answers. “A little. As usual, she wants to give us the full account all together rather than repeating herself.”
He obviously isn’t inclined to give me the little he does know, but after a pause, he lifts his gaze to meet mine again. “One of those clay deliveries you suspect is for the scourge sorcerers went out this morning.”
My heart skips in a more enthusiastic fashion. “Was someone able to track it?”
“The two soldiers the king assigned to watch the quarry are particularly adept at stealth missions. They followed the workers at a distance and saw the hand-off with the buyer. Unfortunately, they only managed to stay on the buyer’s trail for half a mile before the wagon and its driver vanished.”
I frown. “‘Vanished’?”
Stavros lets out a disgruntled sigh. “Simply disappeared from view in a blink, as the soldiers tell it. They hung back for a short while and then surveyed the area, but they couldn’t find any traces of passage.”
I push away from the chair to pace the length of the table. “We know from what Ivy’s told us that the scourge sorcerers must have someone very skilled with concealing magic on their side. They’re able to disguise their passage of the Starsil and the bonfires they worship around.”
“Yes, we have to assume magic was involved. So we don’t know where they were taking the clay, but I think we can consider it confirmed that it is the scourge sorcerers who are taking it.”
His tone stays as grim as his expression. I can’t summon a smile myself.
It’s an awfully minor victory. We need so much more if we’re going to free Ivy from the task King Konram assigned to her.
Casimir arrives a moment later, with the same worried glance around the room I must have made on my entrance. Before he can even ask about Ivy, she emerges from her loop of cord too with a swish of her layered skirts.
Her face holds such a mix of foreboding and resolve that a pang reverberates through my heart even as my lips spring into a smile at the sight of her. She swipes a few stray strands of hair back from her cheeks and squares her shoulders.
But when her eyes meet mine, the emotion that sparks in them sends a bolt of giddiness straight through my nerves. With an answering smile, she walks straight to me and bobs up to press her mouth against mine.
It isn’t one of the chaste pecks we’ve exchanged since she told Casimir and me that we needed to tone down the physical part of our relationship. The heat of the kiss sets my pulse racing with a flush that washes over my skin.
I hesitate only for an instant with a hitch of surprise, and then I clasp the back of her neck to return the kiss as eagerly as she’s offered it. I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but I want her to know I’m right here with her.
Ivy draws back with a softer smile that lights me up from head to toe. “I sorted some things out with Julita. We don’t have to hold back our feelings.”
The relief that sweeps through me at those words is as much for Ivy as my own satisfaction. I can’t imagine what it’s like being at odds with another person who’s residing right inside your head.
I squeeze her shoulder. “I’m glad you could come to an understanding.” As I peer into her eyes, I try to picture the woman I knew before her watching me through them too. “Thank you.”
Ivy breaks into a laugh, a hint of a blush coloring her pale cheeks. “She says you’re very welcome as long as you make sure to take good care of me.”
My own face heats even more, but my lips twitch with a grin. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
Casimir has been following our exchange with his usual serene composure, no sign of impatience or jealousy. But the second Ivy turns to him, he steps forward to meet her, beaming so avidly no one could doubt how happy he is to accept her embrace.
It’s a strange sensation, watching the woman I’ve fallen for kiss another man.
A wobble runs through the pit of my stomach, a sense of loss that I’m not sharing that moment with her as well.
And yet exhilaration floods me to see her beam back at him, even happier now that she’s reconfirmed her affection for both of us.
She’s an extraordinary woman. I’m not sure I really could “take care” of her as thoroughly as she deserves on my own.
And there’s no one I’d trust more than the courtesan to ensure she’s never left wanting—in any of the ways I want her life with us to be better than what she had before.
My gaze slides to the other man at the table.
Stavros has remained in his chair, but his expression has shifted as he watches Ivy with us. Like he can’t tear his eyes from her… and he isn’t sure he’d want to anyway.
I’m not sure what to make of that or the slightly wary smile Ivy shoots him that relaxes when he chuckles in return. Something has changed in their dynamic. The tension that’s shadowed this room so often in the past few weeks has lightened.
I’ll count that as a win, whatever exactly has passed between them.
Then Stavros sits up straighter, the solemn cast returning to his face, and I’m dragged back to the full reality of our situation. This isn’t a joyful reunion—it’s a strategy session to send Ivy off to commit an assassination.
The happy glow that came over Ivy dims too, but she speaks with the same steely resolve I saw when she stepped into the room. “I’m supposed to go on a ‘bug club’ expedition in two nights. Presumably it’s actually an Order of the Wild gathering.”
My breath halts in my chest. “Two nights? You were just initiated.”
Ivy shrugs. “Maybe they want to get us initiates fully immersed quickly. It’s probably for the best, since we want to make our move before they have a chance to strike at the royal family.”
Casimir sets his hand on her arm. “Did they say anything about what you’ll be doing on the ‘expedition’?”
She shakes her head. “I doubt they’d want to even hint at their real purpose with the other club members around. But it’ll involve at least all of the members who are part of the conspiracy—and I should have a chance to get close to Ster. Torstem.”
Stavros pushes to his feet as if he can’t bear to stay sitting any longer. “I can alert the king and make an excuse to visit the nearest posted squadron that night, so I’ll be able to direct them to you when you signal me.”
It’s happening too fast. I can’t stop myself from blurting out a protest. “You shouldn’t have to do it.”
Stavros’s dark gaze swings to me. “None of us thinks she should. But if she’s going to insist—”
“I’m not,” Ivy breaks in.
All three of us stare at her. Now I feel as if the breath has been knocked right out of my lungs.
“What?” I manage to say, afraid to hope that she means what I think she does.
Ivy lifts her chin defiantly. “I’ll kill him if I have to. But I want to try another way first. The king doesn’t need Torstem dead by my hand, does he? All that really matters to him is overturning the conspiracy.”
Stavros is studying her with open bemusement. “I’d say that’s true. He seemed to think Torstem’s death was a necessary component. Do you have some new plan for accomplishing that aim?”
She grimaces. “I’m still working it out.
I was hoping the three of you could help.
We need all the scourge sorcerers distracted and in disarray for the soldiers to be able to sweep in and apprehend them.
If the king would like one of his people to then find a reason to murder Torstem—for resisting arrest, perhaps—it’ll be out of my hands. ”
A vicious light sparks in Stavros’s eyes. “I know at least one person who’d be happy to take up that duty. And who can assure King Konram that you fulfilled all the important parts of your mission, as far as I’m concerned.”
My spirits have lifted, but the weight of doubt dampens my initial excitement.
“We’d still have to get the squadron to the conspirators before they realize there’s trouble and scatter.
From what Ivy’s said, it’ll be awfully difficult to distract them enough that they’d disregard a warning from their sentries.
They’re so quick to turn on anyone they feel isn’t standing with them…
Anything Ivy does to upset them could make her a target. ”
Stavros glances at Ivy with a frown. “Yes, whatever you do would have to keep them too distraught to rally at an impending threat for long enough for us to reach you. The closest squadron is about an hour’s ride from the region Casimir identified.”
I nod miserably. “I hate to say it, but you’d be safer stabbing Torstem and then fleeing.
I can’t think of much that would affect them that strongly other than losing their leader.
The fervor they’ve shown—they’re so devoted to their cause and so convinced that they have the only true answer to calling back the All-Giver—”
Ivy’s head jerks toward me. “That’s it!”
I blink at her. “What is?”
“They’re sure they’re right,” she says, rapping her hand against the tabletop.
“But even with all their power, they’re not.
What if I can do something that makes them doubt the entire reason they’ve gathered at all?
Turn them against each other thinking they’ve been led astray, that the gods are angry with them rather than approving? ”
Casimir rubs his jaw, his eyes gone pensive. “You’d need to tread carefully. The gods could be offended by you pretending to speak for them too.”
But the new idea has given me a renewed surge of inspiration.
“They don’t have to speak. Most people don’t hear voices from their godlen anyway.
They interpret dreams—well, I suppose that isn’t likely to be applicable in the middle of a gathering—and signs that catch their attention.
If you could create a significant omen that would look like disapproval without outright impersonating one of the godlen… ”
Stavros clears his throat. “To make a big enough ‘sign’ to unsettle the scourge sorcerers, I’d imagine Ivy would need to use her magic.”
An uneasy silence settles over the room. Ivy’s mouth twists as she studies Stavros’s expression.
“You’re right,” she says after a moment.
“So maybe I can’t attempt a different approach after all.
I—I’d be willing to tap into my power if it means throwing the conspirators into disorder, but I don’t know if I’d be able to control it well enough to avoid doing more harm than good.
It’s always been Kosmel guiding the consequences when I’ve handled it effectively, and he hasn’t given me any signs in days. ”
The hopelessness that’s crept back into her voice lances through my gut.
I grope for any tool I have to counter it. “I was able to find an antidote for the crozzemi toxin’s effects. I’ve already arranged to pick some up tomorrow morning, so you’ll have it in time. You’ll be more in control of your reactions than before.”
Ivy shoots me a grateful smile, but she still looks deflated. “Thank you. That’ll make some difference, assuming it works. But even when I’m fully conscious, I’ve never been able to harness the backlash my magic creates. It seems to decide for itself.”
Except when the godlen who appeared to have chosen her as his champion intervened.
I knit my brow. “You said Kosmel hasn’t offered any guidance recently. What exactly has he said before when he’s spoken to you directly—when you’ve asked him to regulate your magic?”
Ivy pauses, her lips pursing as she thinks back.
“The first time, when I was dying, he talked as if he couldn’t guide it unless I agreed.
In the tower, he said he’d help as long as I let him in.
And the last time, with Benedikt… He basically said it was up to me.
That I had to decide how I wanted to handle the situation and he’d just back me up, essentially. ”
I consider that and what she said about her initiation. “Did you ask him to help you do something when you were struggling with your magic the other night?”
Her forehead furrows. “Nothing specific, I guess. It was more of a broad call for help.”
“Then maybe that’s the problem. The gods don’t generally intervene all that blatantly in anyone’s life—and it sounds like he’s said you have to direct how he assists rather than the other way around.”
Casimir lets out a thoughtful hum. “That does align with a lot of the philosophy I’ve heard and read from clerics and devouts. The gods will act through us but not for us.”
“So if I decide what I want to happen and tell him exactly what I need,” Ivy says slowly, “maybe he’ll show up? But I won’t know until I try.”
The courtesan offers her a wry grin. “That’s why they call it faith and not certainty.”
Stavros stirs on his feet. “Normally in a situation this dangerous, I’d say only trust what you can hold in your hands. But he’s supported you multiple times before.”
Ivy inhales deeply and seems to gather herself. “All right. I don’t have to make the ultimate decision until I’m there. I’ll prepare as much as possible, but I can still go straight to the stabbing if I don’t like the looks of things.”
The ex-general tips his head. “We may also be able to arrange for some supplies to be left in the general area, so possibly your magic could draw on something concrete rather than having to conjure every effect from nothing. If you have any idea what sort of effects you’d want to create?”
Ivy has always seemed awkward when anyone’s complimented her appearance, but I can honestly say that when that shrewd yet hopeful light comes into her face, I can’t imagine another person looking more stunning.
I can see everything she’s been through—and all the strength she’s used to rise above it.
She wets her lips and glances around at us. “The scourge sorcerers like to use fire to destroy what they don’t want. What if I could turn the flames around on them?”