CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX TREW
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
TREW
My advisors’ questions snapped from all directions, their voices overlapping.
Grayson demanded details about troop movements, specifically whether the supply lines he’d been tracking along the northern pass had appeared in what we’d found.
I kept my expression neutral. I hadn’t mentioned supply lines. I hadn’t mentioned the northern pass. The reports on Grayson’s own desk about those routes were internal documents.
How had he known where to look?
Coralee wanted to know how I’d maintained my disguise.
Malcolm’s gravelly voice rose above the others, asking about security breaches.
Naveah sat back in her chair and watched it all unfold with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.
I lifted my hand again, and they cut off mid-protest.
“Marlane first,” I said, my tone sharp. “Tell me anything you know about her.”
Blank stares met my demand. Coralee shook her head, her ermine shifting on her shoulder. Malcolm’s expression remained unchanged. Naveah tilted her head, considering, but said nothing.
Grayson moved in his seat, his fingers tapping against the armrest. “I did look into this as you asked through Gavelle, but there isn’t much.
Mostly, I’ve heard whispers of old estates in the south, properties that existed before the wasteland appeared.
But nothing specific about—” He clamped his mouth shut.
“Nothing specific about what?” I drummed my fingertips on the table.
“Well, there’s nothing confirmed,” he said. “I speak of servants’ gossip. Stories of abandoned holdings that may have belonged to those who were not members of our court.”
Coralee’s gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made my jaw clench. “I understand this is Amarissa’s mother, but why pursue rumors when war is imminent?”
Because she’d known secrets about the veil that might save us all. Because understanding what happened to her could give us what we need to stop the coming war.
But I couldn’t say any of that until I was sure I could trust them.
I met each of their eyes, one by one. “It’s rumored Marlane used to visit a place in the southern part of our court.”
Naveah’s eyebrows lifted but after glancing at the others, she pressed her lips together.
Grayson studied me for another long moment, then leaned back in his chair with a dismissive wave.
“If it was true, everyone would know about it. As for those rumors? I’d dismiss them if I were you.
There can’t be any truth in it. Surely we’d have records or someone would remember if she’d passed through Syllavar on her way to a place somewhere south of here. ”
“Check into this,” I said. “Search the archives for any mention of isolated holdings in Syllavar lands that might have even the vaguest connection to Caldrith. Speak with our elders. Look on pre-wasteland maps. Study property transfers. Anything.”
Grayson nodded, though his expression remained troubled. “That will take time.”
“I want information on my desk by morning.”
“Very well,” he said with a sigh.
I reached through my bond again, slipping into Gavelle’s sight.
The library spread below him now, rows of tables where people sat, bent over books.
Isi sat with Lexie at a table, both women absorbed in thick tomes.
Kerralyn occupied a chair nearby, a book open on her lap, but her gaze frequently lifting to scan the room.
Derren stood between the stacks, pulling volumes from shelves and bringing them to the women. In between finding books, he positioned himself where he could watch both the main entrance and the stairs leading to the upper levels. His hand remained on the hilt of the blade strapped to his belt.
His caution steadied the unease in my chest.
Pulling back, I refocused my attention on my advisors.
“Let’s discuss the prisoners,” I said, watching their reactions, though they showed only tense curiosity. “Caldrith’s dungeons hold twenty-three people condemned to die for possessing magic. We’re going to free them before their Day of Mercy.”
“Absolutely not,” Grayson sputtered. “I mean, we shouldn’t, Your Majesty. The risk is too great. It was bad enough we took all those children. Cyril will view it as an act of war.”
“He’s already preparing for war,” I said. “I stole Isi out from underneath his rule. Whether we free those prisoners or not, I have evidence his army will be marching toward Syllavar within the week.”
“Then why give him further justification to attack us?” Coralee’s fingers twitched on the table. Her ermine leaned into her neck, its gaze focused on me. “This would hand him a reason to rally his people against us. Another thing, why would he march against the king his daughter plans to marry?”
“Because he wanted her to marry someone else. You know Addie was his daughter, that she sought shelter here. Someone, him or whoever, dropped a body that looked very much like her in the middle of a ball not long after their prior Day of Mercy.”
“What?” Naveah shouted. “That’s… Addie is dead?”
“Not as far as I know. The body was left there while she was here, bonding through the Rite and falling in love with Fenmark. I was told that the body was deposited by a large bird that magically disappeared right after.”
Naveah’s expression tightened. “And so we stand accused, framed because of the companion.”
“Who bonded with a large bird?” I asked.
“There are many,” Coralee said. “It’s a common companion. But I’ll have mine reach out to the Council, and I’ll bring you a list.”
“Thank you.”
“With Addie away from Syllavar, there’s no way to prove to Caldrith that the body wasn’t hers,” Malcolm said.
“Will you tell us more about the mission you sent her and Fenmark on?” Coralee asked, one eyebrow raised.
“No, I will not. It wasn’t her body, though I don’t know whose it was and it burned in a funeral pyre. But we stand accused of murder.”
“And you’re marrying the daughter he expected to marry someone else. No wonder he has declared war.” Grayson shook his head. “I’ll bet anything he’s involved in faking Addie’s death somehow.”
“He’s always coveted our lands,” Naveah said. “This gives him an excuse to invade and if he can win, to declare victory and take some of our land as payment for Addie’s supposed murder.”
“Why would he want wasteland?” Coralee scoffed, frowning Naveah’s way.
“If we can drive the Skathes back, the blight will fade,” Malcolm said. “So I’ve heard.”
Naveah grunted. “Maybe he’s the one controlling the Skathes, then. If we can be defeated, our numbers reduced to something manageable and our magic stolen or drowned in ashwine, whoever controls the Skathes could send them away.”
“Or back through the veil,” Malcolm said.
She nodded. “Even better. Our land will be restored to its former beauty, and this controller could declare themselves king or queen of a much larger court.”
Coralee glanced toward me. “We need to discover who the controller is. Addie was one of us. How could someone fake her death?”
“From what I’ve recently learned, there are two people using magic to control the Skathes.” I sat back and watched their faces as the news settled over them.
“Two?” Coralee’s fingers clenched on the table. Her ermine went absolutely still on her shoulder, not fidgeting like it had been doing since we entered the room. An animal reading its bonded person’s distress?
Both she and her ermine relaxed at the same moment. The way someone moves when they’ve learned to manage their reactions under scrutiny.
My aunt had always had excellent control of her body. I’d admired it once. Now I filed it away as something else entirely.
“We should send spies into the wasteland to see what they can discover,” Malcolm said, not knowing that I already had.
“I could give you a list of warriors who’d be best suited for such a task.
I assume you infiltrated Caldrith Court with a magical disguise.
Could you create one for this person or persons that would hold long enough for them to travel among the Skathes to discover who the controllers are? ”
Malcolm had always been clever. But I noticed what he’d actually asked, not whether we should send spies, but whether my disguise magic could be replicated, transferred, or applied to someone else. How long it would hold. Its limits.
The question of a tactician.
Or the question of someone who wanted to know exactly what I could and couldn’t do.
I nodded approval. “Give me a list, Malcolm. Lead the spy selection.”
“I’ll put it together right away.”
“As for those awaiting the Day of Mercy,” I said.
“We’re going to break them from the dungeon and steal them like we’ve taken many of their magic-wielding children.
They’re condemned for the same gifts we celebrate here.
They’re warriors, healers, and scholars.
Regular people like us. Potential allies if we can earn their trust.”
Malcolm’s face remained thoughtful. “And if they don’t trust us? They may see Syllavar as another cage.”
“We’ll give them a choice.” I met his gaze. “We’ll show them how life could be here. Let them see our villages, our people, and the happy, healthy children we’ve already rescued. Then we’ll let them decide their own fates.”
Silence fell again, but this time it carried weight, consideration rather than shock.
Coralee tapped her fingers on her arms crossed on her chest, her expression calculating. “Magic wielders who survive the Rite could bond with beasts. We’d gain warriors we desperately need.” She paused. “But will Caldrith’s people fight their own neighbors and families?”
“Some might,” Naveah said quietly. “Others won’t. But offering sanctuary is still the right choice, even if only a handful accept.”
Grayson’s owl fluttered his wings as the advisor frowned. “The logistics alone are rather complex. How would we get them all here without being captured in their territory?”
“We’ll use dragons. Fast in, fast out, with minimal exposure.”
“I assume the prisoners are heavily guarded,” Malcolm pointed out.
“They’re in Caldrith’s dungeon.”