Chapter 36
Reagan
Reagan had worked every angle to force his way onto Eldar’s and Iqbal’s agenda and had gotten nowhere. The Order might not be targeting Banfgaard directly, but they would always be a threat. Scions had harmed the elvenborn before. So why refuse to eliminate the risk?
They all stood to gain from dismantling the Order.
He’d spoken with Anife the day before, and she had admitted to a string of unusual accidents among their people.
Elves abducted only to reappear without memories or recollection of where they’d been.
Anife had concerns, even as she tried to dismiss the possibility of the Order’s involvement, as if someone had taught her to.
He could only read their hesitation as fear. It had never occurred to him how thoroughly the Order had cultivated their reputation, so deep that even estate heads hesitated to confront them.
Pressure clamped down on Reagan’s temples. This had been a waste of their time.
He’d brought Finn here knowing it would tear him between loyalties again, even if his friend would never admit it. It took a great deal to unsettle Atkus Finnegan, yet his own kin had a rare talent for it.
The sky had already dulled to a morning pink.
Reagan forced himself out of bed, temples throbbing, mouth sour with the taste of liquor.
He’d not intended to drink. But two days of circling the same arguments, watching them corner Finn while he held his tongue, had worn him thin.
Eldar and Iqbal had watched him like starving wolves.
Even if Reagan believed they would trade information for sex, which he did not, he told himself he wasn’t that desperate yet.
But the final push that led him to a glass had come when Jane and Arun didn’t appear at dinner. His chest had seized when Maith announced they were occupied. Water wouldn’t have dulled his thoughts. His throat had burned dry, and only liquor hollowed the feeling. One glass, then another.
The headache wasn’t from the drink. His body had endured worse. It came from the night spent rolling restlessly in bed, sickened by the idea that Jane might believe they were desperate enough for her to offer herself as a bargaining chip.
That was the danger of speaking with so much conviction. Others believed it meant anything was worth it.
He dragged himself into the washroom and leaned beneath the cold stream, letting the water crash over his skull. He forced his thoughts into order, crushed all the anger prowling under his skin. He needed clarity. Nothing else.
He dressed in his own clothes, hair still damp, when a knock sounded at the door.
Jane stood there with Finn, the latter bleary-eyed, as though she had dragged him from sleep.
“We need to talk,” she said, closing the door behind them.
Reagan noted the colour high in her cheeks, and the firm tone of her voice.
“Can you ward the room?” she asked. “I don’t want to be overheard.”
He nodded and wove the ward, sealing sound inside the chamber.
“You started working early, Jane,” Finn murmured with a yawn, dropping into a chair at the antechamber table.
“What did you find?” Reagan asked.
“All this time we have been trying to negotiate an alliance,” Jane said, resting her hands on her hips, “and they were already working with the Order.”
Both he and Finn stilled, stunned into silence.
“Explain,” Reagan asked.
“I have been trying to get closer to Arun,” Jane went on.
“I thought that I could gain his trust so he would tell me what they needed in exchange for those spies. He hinted that Banfgaard still has reasons to fear the Order, but I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t say that their people were being harmed. Why wouldn’t they admit that?”
Reagan studied her as though he could peel everything from her expression. His pulse pounded.
“They’re prideful,” Finn argued.
“Yes, but I had a feeling that there was something else.” She pressed her lips together, retrieving a hairpin from her pocket. “So I used this.”
Reagan froze. He would recognise the relic anywhere. It was the one that had once been used on him. Jane’s truth-telling relic, its metal glinting discreetly.
Finn inspected it, his brows lifting.
“I used it on Arun. He didn’t understand what I did,” Jane said. “So when I asked again, he told me your uncles won’t spy for us because they are already spying for a Scion named Cahir. Do either of you know him?”
Reagan and Finn shook their heads. Reagan wondered, distantly, whether she had done this while he slept.
“It seems they struck an agreement,” Jane continued. “The Order would keep its distance from Banfgaard in exchange for information.”
“Information? About Mountheim?” Finn asked.
“Exactly,” Jane replied. “Patrol patterns, Reagan’s schedule, where our wards are lifted.”
Finn leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand down his face. “They could have helped them murder the Foley girl.”
“No,” Jane said. “I asked him. He said they only gave information.”
“They might have helped with information on the gate patrols,” Finn clarified. “And when they would be empty to hang the girl.”
Her eyes dropped.
“And now we’ve told them a great deal of our plans to go against the Order,” Reagan muttered, nostrils flaring. “I will fucking kill them.”
“They were planning to double-cross us,” Finn said, lifting his head sharply. “We have to threaten Eldar, or he will share everything with this Cahir.”
The selfish pricks. Reagan could flay them. He could bleed them dry.
Or he could use this.
He felt the anger filling his limbs and forced himself to keep a cool head.
“Maybe we can make them work for us,” Reagan said. Both of them frowned. “There’s still a way to get what we need without Banfgaard alerting the Order.”
“How?” Finn asked. “We can’t admit how we know this. We can’t say we used a truth-telling relic. How would we even justify it?”
“Arun told her,” Reagan said simply. “He probably already admitted it.”
And probably lost his position for it.
“No, he won’t,” Jane said quietly, meeting both their gazes.
“That’s why I didn’t come to you sooner.
I didn’t want him punished, so I told him I’m a diviner.
” Reagan stiffened. “He doesn’t fully understand what I can do.
I let him believe certain things. I told him I’d claim I had a…
vision. I wouldn’t expose him, because he trusted me. ”
“That was generous, considering they were spying on us,” Finn said, watching her. “But thank you, Jane. Arun likely wasn’t the one who chose this.”
She nodded.
Finn stood, shaking his head. “I need to wash before we deal with this.”
“Come back here, and we’ll go together,” Reagan told him, watching as Finn nodded and left the chamber.
Jane leaned back against the wall.
“That was cunning of you,” he said, assessing this version of her. Not only clever, but bold.
Her lips flattened. “We were getting nowhere. I had a narrow window with Arun.”
“I told you that relic is forbidden,” he said, feeling particularly spiteful. “And you risked yourself anyway. Gave him whatever you did to put that on him.”
Colour rose in her cheeks. “I gave nothing. And he didn’t notice a thing.”
Reagan searched her face. The indignation was real, etched into every line of her expression. However she put that relic on him, she hadn’t used herself to do it.
It was like a vice had lifted from his chest, and a dark, territorial heat surged in its place.
She frowned at him. “It’s alright when you have your clever plans to trick Scions in the woods, but when I have a plan, it’s not alright for me to do it?”
She stepped closer. The defiance radiating from her made his pulse hammer.
Against his will, his eyes dropped to the ripe curve of her mouth. His hands itched.
He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to lay her on her back in the adjoining room and take her with all the savagery his jealousy demanded.
Her cheeks flushed a deeper red, some of the tension ebbing from her body, as though she had read his thoughts.
“Caed,” she murmured, close enough that he caught the whisper of her breath. A breath he could have swallowed whole. “It’s better to have Arun as an ally.”
With half a step, he towered over her. Jane didn’t move an inch, the left side of her face illuminated by a sudden white glare.
Reagan pivoted towards the silver light flaring at the edge of the room. An elegant deer formed on the rug beside them.
“Jane.” Cerridwen’s voice emerged from the familiar, and both of them turned. “Your father is awake.”