CHAPTER 18 TYCHO #3
“Bailey,” I say urgently. “It’s important that no one knows I’ve been here before. If you’re asked what happened, don’t tell anyone you saw me. Just say some Syssal soldiers roughed you up and let you go when the tourney started. That’s it.” I jingle the coins. “Can I trust you?”
That gets his attention. He nods vigorously again, so I hold out my hand, dropping two silvers into his palm.
He frowns, closing his fingers around the coins. “What about the rest?”
I hesitate, weighing my options, wondering how much I can trust a kid— and realizing that even if I do, it’s still not the most reckless part of our plan.
“If you want the other three,” I say, “you have to earn it.”
His eyes finally narrow. Maybe there’s a little savvy practicality in there after all. “How?”
“You need to show us how to find the meeting.”
He glances between us again. This must not be what he was expecting, because his mouth twists worriedly, and again he looks toward the end of the tunnel. Whatever Truthbringers have assembled here must be very intimidating.
Then again, I consider the way I first met him. I consider the way he fought to escape us.
Maybe everyone is.
His eyes are still tight with concern, but he says, “All right. I’ll show you.”
I let out a breath. “Good.”
He puts out his empty hand, his expression shifting into determination. “But it’s going to cost you six.”
I almost choke on my breath, but Jax grins, then laughs softly. “I like this kid.”
“Six,” I mutter. “Honestly.” I scowl and fish more coins out of my pouch.
Bailey still has a hand outstretched, but before I let go of the coins, Jax reaches out, closing his fingers around mine. He looks at Bailey and loses the smile. “Two first,” he says in Emberish. “The rest when we get to meeting.”
Bailey blinks at him in surprise, but then his expression sharpens. “Four first.”
“Three.” Jax takes a step closer, until standing turns to looming. His voice drops, that dark look returning to his eye. “And if you lie, we take back.”
Bailey blanches again, and for a moment, he looks like he wants to throw all the coins back at us and be done with this altogether. But he gathers his mettle and gives a sharp nod. “D- done.”
Jax lets go of my hand. “Pay him.”
I sigh, wondering if this is a mistake. But I drop three coins in the boy’s palm.
Bailey wastes no time. His fingers close around the silver, and without a backward glance, he bolts.
We weave through the tourney crowds again, but the press of people isn’t as thick now that the arena competitions have begun.
Bailey is small and nimble, darting between people well ahead of us.
I lose track of him a few times, and I swear under my breath, but then he’ll pop out from behind a vendor’s stall or from behind a wooden post. Every now and again, the crowd in the arena will roar or groan, interspersed with wild clapping or the stomping of boots on the risers.
There must be a sword fight now because the clash of steel echoes over everything.
I haven’t seen Malin, Sephran, or Leo at all. A twinge of worry tugs at my heart.
“This is probably a mistake,” I say to Jax.
“Probably,” he agrees.
We’ve walked halfway around the tourney now, and I’m beginning to wonder where Bailey is leading us. But eventually we near the stables, because the scent of hay and horse sweat begins to overwhelm the reek of spoiled ale and the smoked beef of the food stalls.
And then, right there, a cold breeze whips through the air. It’s brisk and sudden and gone so quickly that I almost wonder if I imagined it.
My magic recognizes it, however. A scraver.
I nearly stop short in the aisle. It takes everything I have to keep the sparks and stars from surging in my blood, sending my own magic flaring wide to find the source.
Jax grabs my arm. “Did you feel that?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it—”
“Yes.” I peer after Bailey, but he’s still bounding ahead, his brown hair nearly disappearing in the crowd. If we lose the boy, I’ll figure out a new plan, but right now, we need to wait. I need to know.
Jax searches my expression. I stand and listen to the sounds from the arena, feeling the heavy humidity in the air pressing down.
There were dozens of scravers attacking the Crystal Palace last month, and there were rumors of others attacking in Emberfall.
Ironrose Castle was braced for scraver attacks— would word have reached Gaulter? Would they have known to be wary?
But then darker thoughts curl through my head.
I remember the way they kept Nakiis on a chain, making him fight battle after battle.
I’ve seen the worst parts of humanity. I know what people are capable of when they feel righteous.
Could Journ have another scraver here? Would the people of Gaulter be all too happy to have another scraver that they could torment in the arena, after all the scravers had done?
As we stand there, another cold breeze whips past us, lifting a tendril of Jax’s hair.
He’s watching my face so carefully. “Is it Nakiis?” he says softly.
“No,” I say— and I’m surprised at the second pulse of worry in my heart. I haven’t seen or heard from Nakiis since that day the king was attacked. “But I don’t recognize the magic at all. There were so many scravers attacking the Crystal Palace. I have no idea who it is.”
I glance after Bailey, but the boy is gone.
Silver hell. I frown. I heave a sigh and run a rough hand through my hair. Maybe this is all pointless.
Jax gives my arm a tug. “Come on. He went that way.”
I yield to his touch, because he’s right, we should keep moving. There are mysteries to solve, and I don’t have anywhere near enough clues yet. But as we stride among the people again, his hand gives my arm a quick squeeze.
I look over, and Jax gives me a smile. “It’s not all bad,” he says.
There’s a note in his voice that I remember from when I was a recruit, that naive eagerness for adventure that’s eventually whittled away by the grimness of reality.
My cynical side wants to scoff, because experience tells me we’ll probably finish the night in a worse place than we started.
But Jax has faced his own dose of reality, and more than once.
It’s a big part of why Prince Rhen sent him along at all.
So I just say, “Tell me if you still think that in an hour.”
I expect him to scowl, because that’s all I feel like doing.
Instead, he laughs. Then, to my absolute shock, he hooks an arm around my neck and pulls me close.
It’s brotherly, soldierly— but also shockingly intimate, because a moment later, I feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek.
For an instant I think he’s going to kiss me right there in the walkway of the tourney, and I’m shocked at how abruptly my entire mind forgets literally everything I’m supposed to care about.
There’s only Jax and the weight of his arm against my neck.
“As long as we’re together in an hour,” he says against my jaw, “I’ll still think it.”
My heart pounds. If I turn my head, our lips will meet.
Bailey pops up out of absolutely nowhere. “What are you doing ?” he demands. “I thought I lost you.”
I jump a mile and almost shout. He’s lucky I don’t draw a dagger.
Jax is laughing under his breath again. He’s let me go, and I don’t even know when that happened. “Go,” he says to Bailey, more sternly. “We follow.”
“No,” I say, trying to make my thoughts focus. I catch Bailey’s sleeve. “Stop.” I lean in and drop my voice. “Does Journ have another scraver?”
I say.
He startles almost as hard as I just did— and then he cringes, his eyes skipping away. “No?”
“Don’t lie to me. There’s a scraver here. I can tell.”
“I’m not lying.” He wets his lips. “It’s not Journ’s.”
“Then whose?”
He looks between us. “Don’t you know? It’s here with the Truthbringers.”