26. Liam
Liam
Splitting up was never a good idea. The last place Mare needed to be was alone with that Paragon.
I supposed it wasn’t all bad. Alone with Bláth was exactly where I needed to be.
The Solheart woman was incredibly suspicious. Mare hadn’t paid any attention to her during our ride from Gwynford to Tsuyan, but I had.
Bláth’s eyes never left Mare. She hardly glanced at her ex-lover, rarely paid Ferris any mind, though he’d talked her ear off on the journey.
It was a stare beyond mere interest. Inquisitors had worn that glare when watching me in a crowd, wondering if I was the boy they sought.
Pulling my collar up, I followed Bláth through Tsuyan’s frozen streets. She walked with confident swagger, hips swishing aggressively, tailcoat fluttering in the breeze.
“Slow down,” I called. “Women aren't supposed to lead."
“Oh, silly me.” Bláth stopped and dramatically spun on her heel. She made herself small at my side and took my arm. “Has anyone told you that you have pretty eyes?”
“Save the flattery for Ferris. He’d appreciate it more.”
“I am much too old for Ferris.” She sighed. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I murmured, leading her through the snow-piled roads.
Reese had given us these parting words: ‘If you find Ferris, and he hasn’t been kidnapped, kill him.’
The young prince was known to be a troublemaker. He’d been busy getting arrested for starting a bar fight the night the assassin had tried to kill the king.
What had turned him from court life to back alleys? Part of me felt I should know him better, the other understood we lived worlds apart.
Ferris and I shared something the rest of the world was oblivious to. What would the prince do if he learned?
Shoving the thoughts aside, I scanned the white city for a green-eyed rogue. There weren’t many people out this late. Most who passed us wore soldiers' uniforms, running to deliver messages or changing guard shifts.
They all looked frightened. Who could blame them?
Mare and I should have run and left this place behind. When she’d told me, back in Gwynford, that she was the cause of the black tide, I should have taken her and run.
Bláth broke the silence. “You know, I’m a half-blood, too.”
“Is that your typical ice-breaker?” I asked dryly.
“I’m trying to relate. You don’t make it easy.”
“Fantastic. We can be frowned at together.”
Bláth pouted. “Your sister is so nice. What went wrong with you?”
“Mare was raised to be a diplomat.” I looked down at her golden curls. “I’m a baker.”
She snorted. “You are not.”
“And what makes you so sure?”
“Lady Rohan keeps calling you a scoundrel.”
“She takes issue with my recipes.”
“Something tells me you’re lying.” Bláth's sly grin vanished. Her gaze lingered on a building to our right.
Two girls stood outside a two-story building, its windows illumined with firelight. High slits cut up their skirts, revealing the pale flesh of their thighs, bound in a blue ribbon.
"How scandalous." I tsked. "And here I thought Muirashins would faint at the mere idea of a brothel."
"In polite company, they do.” Bláth's golden eyes studied one girl, then the other. "Brothels are a central part of their precious traditions. Disowned daughters are sent to work them."
"How very like them."
"Oh, don't blame the Muirashins.” Bláth's smile returned. "Forlaith started it; Tsuyan merely adopted the idea."
Her fingers had tightened on my arm, and she fought to keep a grin plastered to her face. Though she spoke in coy, humored tones, her eyes returned to the girls, and I could tell she was far away.
"Interesting," I said slowly. "Were you one of these disowned daughters?"
"I'm a handmaiden,” Bláth sharply reminded me. "And our pasts do not define us."
So she had been a disgrace, a disappointment to her family. What had she done to earn such a fate? Fallen pregnant with a bastard child or maybe lain with a foul-blood?
"True enough," I murmured, dropping the line of questioning.
I wouldn't want anyone pressing into the pain of my past.
Bláth straightened her posture, then slapped my arm. “Look.”
A man crossed the road ahead of us. Platinum locks piled on the shoulders of his thick winter cloak.
This was the lord who’d, admittedly, rescued us from his lessers.
“What of him?” I asked.
“Not him. Behind him.” Bláth nudged my arm.
A pair of shadows emerged from behind a parked wagon and pursued the Solheart man. One was a Muirashin woman, trapped in a gown that trailed behind her over the snow. A cloak obscured the other, but I caught a hint of his clothes when he glanced in our direction.
A doublet with a deep neckline and high collar, forest green.
Ferris.
“This is getting fun.” Bláth smiled. “Why are they tailing him?” She bumped her hip into me. “Let’s follow them.”
“This is ridiculous,” I sighed, before promptly tailing the odd pair.
Aenir’s love of gossip had gotten to me. There were more important things to worry about than the story behind the tension I’d seen pass between Lord Seradh and Paragon Tiernan.
Those two had history, and I wanted to know it.
Our odd double-chase didn’t last long. Quinn ducked into an unassuming house on a crowded street and shut the door behind him. The woman with Ferris stalked after him, clearly intent on barreling through the door to follow.
Ferris lunged after her, pulling her into the shadows of a shop’s canopy. They struggled for a moment, arguing. Then the woman stepped away and gripped her sword tightly.
Relieved, Ferris glanced around and noticed Bláth and me standing across the road.
He waved.
Oh, Reese was going to kill him, all right.
“What a little ladies' man,” Bláth cooed, nudging me with her elbow. “You could learn a thing or two from him.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” I said.
I moved to join them, but Ferris shook his head and pressed a finger to his mouth before slinking back into the shadows. Backing up, I pulled Bláth closer, pretending I was soliciting her services.
She played along like she was born for the role, giggling and running a finger along my arm.
I suddenly felt sick, knowing her effortless acting came from experience.
A man strode toward us, coming from the same direction we had. He paid us no mind as he passed. Stopping at the same house Quinn had entered, he knocked, waited, and slipped inside when someone opened the door.
I turned back to Bláth and saw her lean around me, trying to get a better look. She recognized the man who passed.
“Friend of yours?" I breathed.
“No,” she said. “I thought I recognized him, though.”
Oh, she was a good liar. Had I not seen her face, I might’ve believed her. The sympathy I'd felt for her a moment ago melted away.
Checking the street for more strange men, I crossed toward Ferris. The woman with him was trying to wrestle from his grip.
I paused, studying her face. She looked familiar.
Her hand tightened on her sheathed blade. “Another Solheart,” she hissed, staring at Bláth.
“Ferris,” Bláth purred. “Why are you stalking Solhearts?”
“Bláth’s not with them,” Ferris assured the woman, pushing down her sword arm. “Diar thinks they might be the ones who tried to kill my father.”
I blinked. “Wait—you think the assassin was a Solheart?”
“Not think,” the woman named Diar spat. “Know."
Ah. Now I remembered. A woman in Shatterblade robes had been with the king when we’d returned from Galasvar.
This was the warrior woman Ferris had fawned over during our ride south.
“I need to know what they’re doing here,” Diar insisted.
“Let me.” I dropped Bláth’s arm. “I know how not to be seen.”
She nodded and slipped into the shadows with the others. “Don’t get caught,” she sang after me.
Pulling my hood down, I crossed the road and passed the house, trying to get a look in its window. No good. The curtains were closed. Looking around, I checked for passersby. A couple hurried down the street and turned down a side alley. Then, I was alone.
Grabbing a loose brick, I scurried up the wall. Tsuyan’s three-tiered roofs weren’t easy to climb. It took more effort than I’d like to swing up on top of them. Leaning over the edge, I checked for witnesses, but all was quiet.
Crossing the roof, I dropped down on the other side into thin yards piled with fresh snow. Pressing myself to the wall, I shimmied back to the house the Solhearts entered—and found exactly what I sought.
A back window, with two Solhearts visible through the curtains.
Crouching, I pressed a hand to the wall and peered in. Lord Seradh stood with his back to me, while the other man hopped up on a dining table. He threw back his hood.
Silvery gold hair, short-cropped and golden-green eyes: This one was another half-blood. Solheart mixed with Stormborn, from the looks of him.
I could hear their voices faintly, only enough to make out a few words.
The short-haired Solheart’s easy smile vanished after Lord Seradh said something I couldn't make out.
His rebuttal carried through the wall, loud and clear. “What? Why?”
Lord Seradh raised his voice. “She’s going to—”
“She’s going to die.” The other man scowled. He pressed fingers to his eyes, then exhaled. “Which is fine. Siotha will be ownerless, again.”
Silence came in response.
“What?” The half-blood Solheart demanded. “What else did you fuck up?”
“Reese is here.”
The half-blood’s golden-green eyes twitched. “Well. Maybe we can recover two Paragon weapons, then.”
“How can you say that?” Seradh’s jaw ticked.
“Easily.” The half-blood hopped off the table. “The world will be a better place when that bastard’s dead.”
Seradh glanced down.
Interesting. He didn’t agree.
The half-blood clapped him on the shoulder. “We have work to do. Let’s go.”
They both turned in my direction. Ducking, I fled through the yard and dove behind a rickety wooden doghouse. The back door swung open, and they exited, slipping through the yard into an alley.
Exhaling, I returned the way I’d come—with less urgency this time. I found the other three where I’d left them, bickering under a shadowy canvas.
Diar lunged at me, hand clenched around her blade. “Did you learn anything?”
“I did.” I glanced at Bláth. “They’re here to steal Siotha. And they’re hopeful that our shiny Paragon will be a corpse soon.”
“I knew it.” Diar stepped back. “I knew the two were connected.”
Ferris’ eyes flew back and forth. “Wait . . . are you saying Solhearts are the reason Killian and Ishii are dead?”
"I think I am, yes.”
“Where did they go?” Diar demanded.
“Down an alley.” I nodded in its direction.
She immediately stormed after them, but Bláth grabbed her arm. “Wait. If they want Siotha, we know where they’ll go.”
Diar’s fingers curled around her blade, then loosened. “You’re right. They’ll go to Ishida’s manor.”
Ferris nodded. “Then that’s where we’ll go.”
“Um, no.” Bláth raised her brows. “You’re going back to Reese and your Paragon. Who, if you recall, ordered you to stay put.”
The kid glanced at me, as though I could bypass a Paragon’s word.
Two Paragons’ words.
“Go back to Reese,” I ordered. “Before he kills you. Bláth and I can watch the manor.”
I expected Diar to protest, but she nodded firmly. “I need to talk to the woman with Cierthine.” She turned to Ferris. “Take me to her.”
Ferris happily took her arm and gave me a smug look. “Reese wouldn’t hurt me. I’ve wormed my way into his good graces.”
“How?” I asked.
Ferris’ smile vanished. “Long story,” he said. “Be careful.”
I’d say he led Diar away, but really, she dragged him down the road.
Bláth touched my arm. “This way. I know a shortcut.”
Nodding, I let her get ahead of me. Reaching into my cloak, I laid a hand on the pommel of my dagger, eyes peeled for a quiet, dark alley.
She led me right into one: a rougher part of town with buildings in various states of repair. The moment she ducked into an empty yard to cross to another street, I lunged.
Bláth hardly made a sound as I tackled her to the ground. Planting myself firmly atop her, I pressed my blade to her throat.
“Who are you, really?” I hissed.
No surprise gleamed in Bláth’s eyes. She smiled. “I had a feeling you were going to do something like this. Rather bold of you—first insulting Solhearts, now attacking one.”
“You said it yourself—you’re just a handmaiden,” I said. “Now, talk. You recognized those men.”
She stared at me for a long while before answering. “I do. We knew each other in another life—do you think Reese is helping them, too?”
“Considering they want him dead, I’m inclined to think not.”
“They’re old friends of his. He and I were lovers. Put the pieces together.”
My eyes flicked across her face, trying to decide if she was lying. Easing off on the dagger, I leaned back on the balls of my feet. “You're familiar with them. You might know what their plan is.”
“I don’t.” Bláth brushed my dagger from her throat. “There’s no reason for Solhearts to steal Paragon weapons. They cannot wield them.” Her eyes darkened. “I do know one thing, though. Quinn is no lord.”
Lowering my blade, I scanned the woman below me. Her vest revealed deep cleavage. A piece of beautiful embroidered silk peeked out from below her bodice. Grabbing its corner, I yanked it loose and stepped off her.
“Hey!” Bláth tried to grab me and missed.
“What’s this?” I asked, shaking it out.
It was a handkerchief, embroidered with initials. ‘B.A.’
Brighid Astartus, no doubt. Her master.
“That’s . . . ” Bláth propped herself up on her elbows. “My lady’s favor.”
“Seems like you value it.” I tucked it into my pocket. “I’ll hold onto this until I decide I can trust you.”
“Oh? And what gives you that right?”
“You appeared in Gwynford without reason. You keep staring at my sister. And your friends are going to try and kill her.” I smoothed down my vest. “Tell me. Why should I trust you?”
Standing, Bláth leaned toward me. “Whatever the truth, I’m not your enemy.”
“So you admit you’re keeping your real motives hidden?”
“Aren’t you?” She tilted her head. “I saw what you did during the battle. I saw the dead walk again.” She paused. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
My hands curled into fists, but I said nothing.
What could I possibly say in my defense?
“So.” Bláth brushed my cloak aside and reached into my vest pocket. She pulled out my handkerchief—a gift from Mare. “Sounds like we both have secrets. No?” With a smirk, she slid it snugly into her bosom.
“Sounds like we do,” I agreed, every muscle in my body tensed.
She gave me a sweet smile. “Good. Now, let’s go stop a heist.”