22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
“ I ’m going to need more ale for this,” Ronan groans, tilting his head back to swallow what’s left of his drink. Lifting his now empty tankard, Ronan signals to the waiter, who dips his head in acknowledgment as he serves the table behind us.
Savell raises his brows and takes a swig of his ale. “On that, we can agree.” Glancing behind him, he raises two fingers and makes a circular motion in the waiter’s direction. “Make that another round.”
Placing a bowl in front of another patron, the waiter nods. “ Coming right up.”
The bright light of day spills into the tavern through three large windows, the panes of glass held in place by steel frames. It’s late morning, and from the streets, people flood inside to claim the remaining free tables. Conversations echo off the tavern’s wooden walls, the ease of their laughter adding another layer of sound.
With Orim gone, the six of us sit at a table in the corner by the cold hearth. Kheldryn, Gryska, and Ronan share the bench across from me, their backs to the rest of the tavern. Savell, Asheros, and I sit on the other side, our backs to the wall.
Gryska lets out a huff. “Babies. Ya need something stronger than ale.”
Cocking his head, Ronan makes a face like he’s considering the idea, while Savell just shakes his head and sips from his tankard.
The waiter approaches our table, a full tray in hand. He places a filled tankard in front of each of us. Taking our drinks, we mutter our thanks.
“We’ll have to leave some extra coin for him,” Kheldryn says, brushing silvery hair out of her face. “He’s very attentive.”
“The poor bastard deserves it for dealing with the likes of us,” Gryska agrees, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Spooning the last of my stew into my mouth, I chew slowly, unable to rid my body of the worry gathering in my abdomen. After what happened last night, this mess we’re in …
Part of me wishes I’d turned down Viridian’s offer to be a diplomat. Perhaps things would have been different. But if I’d never left High Keep, then I wouldn’t have gotten close to Asheros.
A pang in my chest tells me that if given the option, I would do it all over again.
“Lymseia?” Kheldryn asks.
My head snaps to her. “My apologies, what did you say?”
“We’d like to go over the plan again,” Kheldryn says.
“The plan. Right,” I say, clearing my mind. “We return to Arella’s cottage and look for anything that can indicate where our target’s gone. Then, we follow where that trail leads.”
“You say that as if it were so simple,” Savell grunts.
“It is simple,” Asheros interjects, pushing his empty bowl away from him. “We use what’s available to us.”
“And then what?” Savell asks, furrowing his brow. “We corner him? Bring him to Orim’s family manor? What happens when we find him?”
Narrowing my eyes, I press my lips together. Preparedness is the key to a successful mission. Not knowing what comes next has me on edge.
“We’ll decide what to do when we reach that point.” Asheros’s words emit an air of authority. “Time isn’t our ally.”
“Why?” I demand. “What’s happened? What do you know?”
Asheros meets my gaze, his expression apologetic. He takes a breath. “Your mother—Steel has formally denounced its alliance with the Bronze Court.”
Shock overtakes my mind, my question slipping from my lips before I can stop it. “She’s backing Maelyrra?”
“Not yet.” Asheros runs a hand through his hair. “At least, not publicly.”
“Wonderful.” Sarcasm bleeds through my tone. “Why would she break ties with House Avanos but not publicly offer her support to the Pelleverons?” I wrack my mind for any logical explanation but find none. “Without allies, Steel is vulnerable.”
“House Avanos doesn’t hold public favor,” Asheros explains, looking at me, “but neither does Maelyrra—not yet that is. And you must remember, as far as anyone knows, you’re still missing, Bladesinger. The disappearance of the second-born daughter of a Head of House does not go unnoticed.” He pauses, shifting his focus away from me. “But… There’s other news.”
“What other news?” I demand.
Asheros’s face hardens, though I see the worry pooling in his eyes. “A crepulnai was spotted in the Gold Court.”
My stomach plummets. “What? That’s impossible. The Old Gods were banished long ago.”
“So we thought.” Asheros touches the pads of his fingers to his mouth. “The claim has yet to be investigated. But if true, the implications are dire.”
“A crepulnai spotted while there’s all this unrest amongst the Courts… This isn’t a coincidence. It can’t be a coincidence. Whoever killed Vorr has ties to the Old Gods.” A chilling realization settles into my bones. “Gods, that must be how he was able to evoke his wings.”
“My thoughts as well,” Asheros mutters. He swallows, cheeks taut with tension. “So, though there are unknowns, we must capture Vorr’s murderer as soon as possible.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the wooden table. “Should war break out between the Courts, Inatia will be vulnerable to an outside attack.”
“You think a kingdom from one of the other continents would attack us?” Kheldryn asks.
“It’s possible, but that’s not what I meant.” Asheros’s jaw tightens, his shoulders raised. “The crepulnai were the obedient soldiers of the Old Gods. If the red-eyed male has evocation magic, then he has ties to them, probably even serves them. Should Inatia weaken—or, gods above, tear ourselves apart from the inside out—it’s possible the Old Gods could seek re-entry into our world, ending the Banishment.”
Silence falls over the table, the heavy weight of it bearing down on us.
This is so much bigger than any of us could have imagined.
This threat… It’s more perilous than the bloodshed Asheros had been trying to avoid when he’d kidnapped me with the hopes of enlisting my help to persuade Viridian to abdicate the throne.
“It might be wise to call for reinforcements,” Savell says quietly. “With a threat this grave, kingdom-wide, the High King may offer aid.”
“I considered it,” Asheros says. “But stealth is our strongest weapon. Even if Viridian’s Court weren’t compromised, bringing a squadron of the Guard with us would only alert the murderer to our movements.”
“Then it’s decided.” Kheldryn stands, placing her hands on her hips. “We track the late High King’s murderer.”
Pressing his palms to the table, Savell joins her, resignation etched into his features. “If the male we’re looking for truly does have a connection to the Old Gods and he’s able to draw upon their power, then he’ll be extremely dangerous.”
“You know what,” Ronan grumbles, rising to his feet. “I change my mind. There isn’t enough alcohol in the realm for this.”
Kheldryn rolls her eyes. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed this morning.”
“Ha!” Gryska howls.
Ronan wrinkles his nose at her.
“I understand that I’m asking a lot of you,” Asheros says, his tone heavy with the weight of his words. “All of you are free to walk away from this at any time.”
My heart swells with admiration.
Regardless of our mission, his people are his priority.
He’s the kind of leader good fae would die for.
“I’ve walked beside you for years, and I’ll continue to do so for years to come,” Savell says, his expression firm. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me. Always.”
“Like hell I’m letting you do this on your own,” Kheldryn adds with a determined look in her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Reaching her full height, Gryska pats a fist to her chest. “Nor I. My axes are yours to command.”
“Not mine,” Asheros says, his jaw set. He turns to me. “Hers.” His diamond-like irises pierce mine. “We are yours to command, Bladesinger.”
The others look to me now, that awe and reverence they’d shown Asheros now directed at me.
Nerves gather in my stomach, and I take a breath. Though it’s Asheros and his inner circle— our inner circle—that look to me for orders and not the members of the High King’s Guard, I fall back into the role of commander as if I’d never stopped.
The last to stand, I ground myself, my mind focused on the undertaking before us. “Very well. Let’s give that wretch one hell of a beating.”
O rim is the one that answers the door when we return to Arella’s cottage.
“As much as I love to see you all, there must be a reason you’ve returned so soon,” he says once we’re inside. “What is it?”
“We’re tracking the red-eyed male’s movements,” I say, shifting my weight. “To do that, we thought it best to begin at the source.” I direct my focus to Arella, who stays close by Orim’s side. “Do we have your permission to search your property? We’re looking for anything he may have left behind.”
“Yes,” she says, dark eyes wide. “Yes, of course.”
Turning to the others, the pleasantries fall from my tone. “Kheldryn and Gryska, search the home for evidence the murderer’s been inside. Savell and Ronan, you have the back of the house. Asheros and I will take the front.”
Savell nods. He and Ronan exit swiftly while Kheldryn and Gryska begin surveying their surroundings.
Following Savell and Ronan’s path, I stride out of the cottage, Asheros at my back. The moment I cross the threshold, I lower my stance, scanning the ground for any mark the red-eyed male has truly been here. I know what I saw that night— what we all saw —but it’s worth nothing without evidence. Visions of the past can’t be tracked, but physical signs can.
“What’s happening in that beautiful mind of yours?” Asheros asks. Though tension grips his mouth, his words are steeped in reverence. As if he genuinely wants to know what I’m thinking.
My heart wants to leap at his use of the word ‘beautiful,’ but I’m too focused to acknowledge it. “We know the red-eyed male flew away when he made his escape, so footprints are of no use to us.”
“Right,” Asheros muses.
I look to the skies and turn my body. “At just about noon, the sun is at our backs, which means the male we’re looking for flew due west,” I say, motioning my hand in that direction.
“You never cease to amaze me.”
I give him a wink. “It’s all part of my charm.”
“That it is, indeed.” Asheros’s demeanor shifts, seriousness taking hold of his expression. “What lies west of us that could have enticed him?”
“The Copper Court lies to the west. For all we know, the murderer’s returning home.”
Asheros purses his lips. “If he were heading home to the Copper Court, he would have taken a more southernly route from here—not due west.”
I furrow my brow. “The closest major city due west of here is…”
Gods above.
My eyes widen. “Illnamoor. Illnamoor is to the west.”
“You think…” his voice trails off. “You think he’s set his sights on your mother?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” I ask, my mind falling into spirals. My heart thunders against my ribcage. “Think of it, Asheros. Historically, Steel has been the tiebreaker. Gold and Silver have always been on one side, with Bronze and Copper on the other. My mother’s just broken Steel’s ties with Bronze.” I think aloud, “If something were to happen to her, Viridian and Cryssa would look guilty of retaliation.”
Tension works at Asheros’s jaw. “And if Bronze was blamed for your mother’s death, even Copper may be forced to reconsider their alliance. House Tarrantree wouldn’t want to lose its citizens favor.”
My words tumble from my lips. “If he’s truly heading for Illnamoor, we may not make there in time.”
“He won’t strike immediately,” Asheros tells me, grasping my upper arms in an effort to steady me. “It would be too soon. If Bronze were to send an assassin, it would take just under a fortnight for them to arrive.”
Resolve blazes within me. “That means we have a fortnight to get there first.”
Still holding me, Asheros nods. “Traveling swiftly, we can be at Illnamoor in five to six days.”
Footsteps sound behind us. Glancing over my shoulder, I relax slightly when Savell and Ronan approach.
“Anything?” I ask.
Savell shakes his head. “There was nothing out of place.” He glances between Asheros and me. “You?”
Asheros takes a breath and his hands fall from my body. “We have reason to believe the murderer’s traveling due west.”
Savell cocks his head in question, but Asheros holds up a hand. “Let’s discuss this inside.”
Following Asheros’s lead, Savell, Ronan, and I enter the cottage where the others await us. I cross my arms flat against my chest, my feet firmly planted to the floor. Orim and Arella sit at the table, while Kheldryn and Gryska stand casually, the former leaning against the far wall.
She perks up when she sees us, and her brows stitch together. “What did you find?”
“Lymseia was able to deduce the red-eyed male fled due west,” Asheros says, leveling his tone. He glances at me, as if to encourage me to explain our theory.
I let my arms fall to my sides, though I keep them tight against my body. “We think he’s headed for Illnamoor. It’s the only major city directly west of here, and after my mother’s formal announcement to cut ties with House Avanos, the Steel Court hangs in a delicate balance.”
“In light of this,” Asheros adds, “if anything were to happen to Lady Kylantha, we believe the Bronze Court would appear responsible.”
“The Steel Court has always been the peacemaker,” Kheldryn says slowly. “With a direct strike to their Head of House, there’s no doubt the heir-apparent would ally with the Gold Court against Bronze, especially given Maelyrra’s movements against Viridian.”
Asheros presses his lips into a fine line. “There’s no question war would break out should Lady Kylantha be killed.”
“Regardless, this is purely speculation.” Savell shifts his weight, storm-gray eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing definitive to support the notion that our target is headed for Illnamoor.”
“No,” Asheros admits, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ But speculation is all we have.”
Gryska clears her throat, gesturing to Asheros and me. “What do ya suggest we do?”
“Getting to Illnamoor before the red-eyed male does is our best option. Whether he goes after my mother or not.” I place my hands on my hips, thinking through the plausible outcomes. “If we’re right, and he plans to kill my mother, we’ll have a trap set for him.” I pause. “And if he doesn’t, then we reevaluate and rethink our next steps.”
“I agree.” Asheros looks at me, and then back at the others. “We can’t risk him harming Lady Kylantha. There’s too much at stake.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Gryska says with a huff, as if that’s the end of the discussion.
“More traveling,” Ronan groans, wiping his face. “Wonderful.”
“This is important,” Kheldryn scolds. “The fate of the kingdom is in our hands.”
I swallow, tension working at my throat.
She’s right.
The fate of the kingdom is in our hands.
Nerves gather in my stomach. The weight of the consequences, should we fail to stop Vorr’s murderer from inciting a war, bear down on my shoulders. This isn’t a battle I can fight alone, or an enemy whose weaknesses I can easily decipher.
I’m out of my element .
And the cost of my mistakes would be paid in blood.
“We’ll leave in the morning.” Asheros’s gaze sweeps the room. “Rest until then.”
“At the inn?” Savell asks, jabbing his thumb toward the outside.
“I know it’s cramped, but you’re more than welcome to stay here for the night,” Arella says. “Save your coin for when you need it.”
“Thank you.” Asheros dips his head, offering her a polite smile. To the others, he says, “We’ll stay here for the night.”
After retrieving our bedrolls from our packs, we disperse throughout Arella’s small cottage and ready ourselves for bed.
Despite the fatigue clinging to my limbs, sleep is the farthest thing from my mind. The need for action is so much stronger, a constant, driving force. Knowing myself, it won’t relent until I’ve sated its demand.
There’s something I need to do, first.
Then, I can rest.
“What is it?” Asheros asks softly, approaching me.
I meet his eyes, resolve powering my words. “I need to borrow your dagger.”