Chapter 15
Reflections can Reveal
It wasn’t more than a single day later that I was reminded there were people who I shouldn’t trust, too.
I was taking it easy, eating lunch with Henrik and Orin when Yeshar approached our bench.
“—and that’s when he spilled it all down his soup catcher.” Henrik wiggled his scruffy chin for emphasis. “Got it all over his clothes too.”
“That’s not even the best part,” Orin added. “He started choking when he spilled it, and got parfait and spittle all over Instructor Weavir too!”
I laughed, picturing Instructor Penbrook’s beard smeared with chunks of fruit and yogurt.
“Just who I was hoping to see,” Yeshar crowed, shoving Orin’s plate onto the ground and seating himself onto the flat bench beside us. The leftovers from Orin’s lunch tumbled onto the dirt.
“Hey, I wasn’t done with that,” Orin protested, bending to pick up the mess. Yeshar ignored him, eyes gleaming as he leaned in toward me.
“I had an interesting discussion with Nikolach on this.” Yeshar pulled a familiar mirror out.
My pulse spiked, and the aftertaste of lunch soured on my tongue. He’d been in my bedroom and stolen my mirror. When? And how had Nikolach gotten a missive mirror inside the Reformatory?
Yeshar subtly straightened the mirror on the bench, tapping it.
He’d chosen to steal my mirror deliberately, even though he likely already had his own. The unspoken threat was clear. I wasn’t safe even in my own bedroom at the outpost from Yeshar. He could get in anytime, and take whatever he wanted.
Orin was trying to eavesdrop from the tilted angle of his head while he scooped up the remains of his lunch. Had Henrik told him about our time in Reformatory?
There was a precipice ahead, but I couldn’t see the dropoff to the fall yet. I was on a collision course with the bottom of that ravine if I didn’t tread carefully, and I was walking blindfolded toward it.
“He had some very unfriendly things to say about you,” Yeshar continued. He kicked at some of the scraps that had fallen on the ground. Orin scowled but said nothing.
“Oh?” I said, trying for nonchalance.
“Yeah, he had quite the tale to tell about a missing Sentinel and his innocence around the whole affair. Seemed quite put out about the extra three months of mining he’s doing because of it.
Not that I mind the extra customers while he stays there.
But he made some surprising insinuations about your involvement. ”
I was no longer walking blindly toward the precipice, I was jogging toward it. My heart caught up to the tempo of my feet in my imaginary jaunt right off the cliff.
“What missing Sentinel?” Henrik asked.
It was an overt attempt to change the topic. The news had spread like an annual illness through the ranks until everyone in the Reformatory had heard what happened. There was no way Henrik hadn’t heard about it. He was attempting to cover for me.
Just like old times.
Yeshar’s predatory stare turned toward Henrik, scrutinizing him instead of me. “A Sentinel disappeared a couple weeks before the Mistrun. Never left the Reformatory after his last shift. Had a wife who reported him missing.”
That was wrong, his wife hadn’t been the one who reported him missing.
He wasn’t even married, or at least…he hadn’t worn a ring.
Was Yeshar misinformed or deliberately testing me?
I wasn’t about to contradict him. When avoiding potentially incriminating yourself, let someone else, anyone else, keep controlling the conversation instead.
Especially if their information was flawed.
Yeshar acted quite pleased to hear his own voice, even if we both knew he was humoring Henrik.
“He was last seen near the mines. Nikolach was one of the Apostates mining that day, and the Ascendancy determined he must have been involved with the Sentinel’s disappearance. Given his history, of course.”
It was convenient that Nikolach had been put into the Reformatory for a vicious assault, whereas I had been there on a nonviolent charge.
I had also been mining that day along with a dozen others.
As a girl indirectly involved in a passive crime, I’d been diametrically overlooked as a suspect in the Sentinel’s disappearance.
Nikolach had figured it all out afterwards of course, which is why he’d threatened to kill me.
But by then it was too late. He’d been pegged as the culprit, and sentenced for additional time for a crime he hadn’t committed.
While I’d been able to get my release date moved up enough to make it out in time for the Mistrun, and hide behind the safety of the outpost.
I needed to redirect this conversation fast. “Nikolach does love to tell all kinds of stories,” I said. “He’s got a big mouth.”
Take the bait. Please take the bait.
“Nikolach is a lying prick,” Henrik added. “He fleeced me out of three hundred gold on a bet I won. Straight up refused to pay. I wouldn’t trust a word he says.”
Thank you, Devourer.
Whether Henrik was trying to lend me credibility, or if he had actually won a bet against Nikolach and had his winnings stolen was inconsequential. It did sound like something Nikolach would do, though. It didn’t matter if it was true or not, only that Yeshar believed it.
Orin had finished picking up each shred of scraps with exaggerated slowness, and was moving away from our group.
“Nikolach is just mad that he was dumb enough to get caught,” I said. “He’s trying to distract you from the deals he’s been making using what he knows about you.”
“That’s the thing.” Yeshar refocused on me, permanent scowl in place.
He pulled an ornate dagger out from his belt, tapping his thumb along the face.
“I don’t really care about the missing Sentinel one way or another, that’s between you and him.
You tell me he’s been talking, he tells me you’ve been talking.
” His eyes were shrewd as he watched me, blade glinting.
“Either way, I’m out a year’s worth of product, and he’s now the only supplier on Mesmoria with anything left to sell.
I’ll get to the truth of it. Eventually.
And when I do,” he gave me a close lipped smile. “I’ll get my pound of flesh.”
I kept my face carefully placid, even as my heartbeat thundered. The cliff edge in my mind was a crease between my toes now, so close that if I tipped forward I’d tumble down.
I didn’t know any sordid details about his dust operations, only the location of one of his storehouses from an overheard conversation.
I hoped for my own sake that he hadn’t been storing much of his product in it when I’d bartered away that information, but a year’s worth of dust sounded like his entire supply.
“I hope you do.” I wrapped my hand around the handle of my mirror and stood.
“You should keep better track of your valuables, Lisia,” Yeshar said before I could hobble away to put more distance between us.
My limping gait drained any dramatic effect my egress might’ve had.
“It’s a messy business I’m in, and I do hate messiness.
And someone has gone and made it messier.
Now, it's hard to tell what's part of the general filth and what's... personal.
Wouldn't want anything precious to get lost in the cleanup. "
I held up the mirror, pretending I hadn’t caught the quiet threat. “Thanks for finding it for me. I’ll keep it more secure next time.”
I shut the barracks door behind me, breathing harder than if I’d run a mile on this weakened ankle. Clutching the mirror, I staggered to my bedroom and slammed the door. I shoved my mirror into a drawer in the nightstand. If only I could tuck my anxiety away as easily.
None of the rooms at the outpost were protected by locks, it would take no effort for Yeshar to get in here.
Again. Unlike the Reformatory, there were no Sentinels here to keep the peace, either.
He had easily seventy pounds on me. If it came down to a struggle between the two of us, he’d win with comical ease.
And he could decide to come collect his pound of flesh at any time.
I had nothing but my wits to defend myself with.
And I had a bad feeling that between the two of us, Yeshar had more.