Chapter 36 Eye of the Storm #2
One thing was clear to me though. Abundantly. The intelligence reports I’d seen that were so confusing, had been sent intentionally. Looking at these codes, they had likely reported faithfully—but when read without this key, they were a jumble.
I’d poured over those reports, both alone, with the Council, and later with the king.
If the king had known this code existed, he would have explained it to me—even if only when we were alone.
We’d made strategic decisions on battles, missions, and placement of both patrols and troops based on those reports.
Hell, he’d sent me here because of our concerns about them.
Hurried me and Bren across the border in an effort to subvert whatever was brewing between our neighboring kingdoms.
God, if I could take this code back and go through those reports… we’d know everything.
We missed it. We missed it entirely. I had no memory whatsoever of corrections or markings on those intelligence reports… and then it hit me.
I wouldn’t. Except for the messages sent directly to me by my personal network, the intelligence reports were always copied by a trusted scribe and distributed to the royals, to me, to the Captains if I deemed them important for strategic decisions, and to any other men considered necessary to address the specific news received.
When I thought about it, the idea was genius. Corrections and mistakes would never be deemed important enough to transcribe. Hence, anyone who saw a copy of these messages couldn’t possibly know or understand its true intention.
Only the one who received it would know, and they could safely allow it to be seen by any others, because there was no possible way to decode it correctly without the key.
Holy shit… “I wish I’d thought of it,” I breathed.
“Me too,” Voski said. “But that doesn’t solve the problem that we’re back at square one until we can retrieve more messages.”
I nodded, still scanning the codes, willing there to be something, anything within them to give me even a hint of who these reports were reaching.
Because the signals made it clear, even the greeting on the missive would be shrouded in code.
Had the message we’d read truly been addressed to Diaan? Or someone else entirely? I couldn’t know without seeing the original.
The original which was already safely in the hands of whomever had devised this clever little system.
“We best pray that our friend uses the network and we get to see this morning’s message,” I murmured.
“There’s another layer to this,” Bren said quietly.
Voski and I both looked at her. She stared at the code pages, wide eyed, her gaze darting left and right.
“What is it?”
She swallowed hard. “I was thinking about the queen, and whether that message we saw was actually sent to her. And that made me think of the training she gave me—remember her ploy to have me seed different rumors with different people?”
I nodded. Her lips thinned. “Well, whoever’s receiving these messages and knows what they mean, they’ll also know who else read them…
because anyone who repeats what they appear to say has obviously read them.
They can find out who’s intercepting their messages—or reading them, if they get passed around. ”
Holy shit, she was right.
And it was precisely the kind of devious clue Diaan would use mercilessly, sitting aside from a Council meeting, waiting for Alexi to tell her what the players brought to the table, and wait for him to let her hear the opposing insights—knowing what was true, and what wasn’t.
A decoded message, interpreted by the right person, would be a correct intelligence report, while its black-and-white copy, read by the wrong person, would offer conflicting insight.
Two messages in one.
Something about that train of thought niggled. As Voski gave Bren an overview of the intricacies of sharing intelligence in the field, how messages were dispersed, and when they were not, I turned my mind back, searching through the fog for those original conversations with the royals.
The problem was, they’d occurred at the same time I’d endured the severing with Bren, and her final confession and reveal of the truth through the dragons about what Ruin had done to her. I wasn’t at my best physically or mentally in those days, and I’d been panicking afterwards because…
Because they wanted me to send Bren here.
No… not they. Her. The first person to suggest sending Bren here to Fyrehold—without me—had been Diaan.
I got to my feet, pacing, scrambling for clarity in the memory of that crucial night we’d discussed how to infiltrate this society. When Alexi and I had hidden our true motives and intentions from the other advisors, then had a private strategy meeting with Diaan…
The queen tapped her lip with one, polished fingernail, her gaze drifting around the room. “You think the dragon bond eliminates any Furyknight? Even those with the skills?”
“No,” I hedged. “It would be difficult, but it could be done. It’s the added complication of the mole on our side of this that worries me.
No measure of skill can avert treasonous betrayal.
I have men I would have chosen for this, but they’re already known to our Advisors, even if not as Shadowfang.
Add to that fact, a particularly delicate purpose that doesn’t need a dragon for success—in fact, I’d argue that kind of bond adds a second complication—I think we’re better to choose someone without it.
The mole in the Council is less likely to suspect them. ”
“Except, the dragons allow quick travel and a better chance of escape if the agent is uncovered,” she said, a slight question in her tone.
“True,” I said reluctantly. “But all the risks have to be balanced—”
“What about the new Furyknight? She won’t be known outside our borders. She won’t be known at all. And the arrogant men in that circle would never imagine that she’d be selected for this kind of mission.”
The newest Furyknight…? She wanted to send Bren? I blinked and frowned at the same time the king tipped his head like he’d heard something. My heart stopped beating as the queen’s intention became clear. This wasn’t a joke. Or a flippant suggestion.
“No,” I snapped without thought, at the same moment the king began to nod.
“It’s an excellent idea,” Alexi said.
Diaan had been the one to suggest it. Alexi only agreed after the fact.
Nerves tangled with anger in my chest.
Was I reading too much into this? Or had the queen been at the center of this from the beginning, allowing her personal desires to mold her political advice?
“…But if two versions of the same message say different things, how does anyone who reads them later know which is right?” Bren asked Voski.
“I think that’s the point,” Voski replied with a glance at me.
“Only the person who receives this in its original form is going to know—and it’s up to them to decide which version filters out to others.
And if anyone ever intercepts a message, or does the work inadvertently…
well, they’ll only ever copy a false version. ”
“Is that our friend’s trap?” I said suddenly.
Had Ruin somehow figured out that the queen was working against the Furyknights? Was he sending messages back to her in the hope she’d inadvertently reveal what she really knew?
“Sir?” Voski asked quietly.
I tried to speak, but my voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat. “Is our friend sending true intelligence to one person, and false to another—to the mole? Seeding different information from the same message and seeing who comes back with the right answer?”
They looked at each other, but of course, we couldn’t know.
If Ruin truly was trying to uncover the mole, it would be a genius way to do it—normal Shadowfang codes and language to share intelligence used to hide an entirely different message in this perverted code.
And pretty soon he’d find out who’d made decisions based on the right information.
Maybe he even knew he would receive word back on a specific day?
Maybe Hanson’s deadline wasn’t the end of the Festival, but the day Ruin knew he would get his answers?
My stomach churned.
“Bren,” I said quietly. “Take Akhane and get to the clearing outside the city. The second Benji arrives, you’re copying everything on that page, every single jot—make sure the placement is precise.
Then you send him straight back to get that message on its way.
We’re taking no risk that our friend learns we’ve intercepted these.
You bring it straight back to me, then you do everything as you normally would.
” I met her eyes. “If you run into our powerful friend today, your primary goal is to pin him down on a detail: Did he set the deadline he’s placed on you?
Or was it put in place for him? Use your wiles if you must, but you find out.
If I’m not here this evening, you take one of your brothers to the ball and you continue to hunt that particular fox.
Let your brothers distract the asshat. I think it’s time our friend was finally reunited with his colleagues. ”
She nodded. “I’ll do it. But… where will you be?”
“Hunting the truth,” I muttered.
Voski eyed Bren. “Take Gil. Our friend is scared of him.”
Bren nodded, then started for our bedroom. “I need to take my knife,” she said quietly, trotting across the room. I turned to look at Voski and found the man intent, staring at me like he willed me to know something. I frowned.
“What—?”
“I have something I believe would be better discussed alone, sir,” Voski murmured.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
‘Donavyn, what’s going on? Why wouldn’t you be at the ball tonight?’
‘Because, I have a very bad feeling about what we might find out today, if we decode that message from Benji. And I need all eyes and bodies in one place while I figure out if I’m right.’
Voski hadn’t taken his eyes off me, and I almost told her to check back in with me before she left the District, to fly over and reach for my mind, but something about the man’s tension stayed my tongue.
He specifically didn’t think Bren should hear it. Why?
The moment my mate had armed herself, then hurried out of the suite, I turned on Voski. But there was no need, he’d already gotten to his feet and was walking towards me, another piece of paper in his hand.
“I thought… I wasn’t sure,” he said. “I thought you should see it and be the one to make the call.”
He extended his hand with a folded piece of paper, and I took it, as I unfolded it, Voski said quietly, “He should have burned it… unless it’s a diversion. Like you said? If you read this and you want her to know, I’ll go after her. Bring her back before she leaves, but…”
I frowned, but scanned the message, my blood running cold.
One short message.
Only two scribbled codes indicating a reversal of intent and persons, including a rise in rank.
I was confused, until I read it.
The two females, bound together in service, are to be placed under the Crown’s protection. They should be relieved of all further sacrifice, so that they might retain merit in the eyes of the citizens.
This service stands in full light. You are free to speak of it as the queen’s mercy, for no restraint is placed upon your tongue, nor censure upon honest mention. Let the deed be carried by your brothers-in-arms, an honor guard.
I know you will choose wisely.
I looked at Voski, whose forehead lined with tension.
“If you read it in Shadowfang code—”
“It’s a call for Bren and Akhane to be quietly removed from service and sent home,” I whispered.
He nodded. “But if you use their code… Sir, it’s calling for your assassination. And they’re expecting to kill Kgosi as well.”
My stomach dropped. “And they’re not telling anyone… even the queen.”
Voski blew out a breath and clenched his hands to fists as if he’d hoped I’d see another interpretation.
I didn’t. My heart began to pound again as I read and re-read the message over and over, wishing I could see some other way, just one other purpose for these words that made sense.
But then it hit me. Something Voski couldn’t know…
I cleared my throat, head screaming. It couldn’t be… could it?
“Voski… when you copied this, did you… replicate the handwriting?”
He nodded, his gaze intense. “I traced the paper to get it exactly. Is that significant?”
My heart stopped, then rushed into spasm, threatening to pound out of my chest.
The order was written in the king’s hand.