Chapter 10
Ten
Fear
Ander’s private rooms were the kind of austere that required deliberate effort. He had made choices: no ornamentation, no softness, the furniture only just sufficient. I wasn’t sure where he made his home, but it was not here. A table, four chairs, a window that faced the sea.
A sword rack with a ridiculous number of blades, as if he didn’t always carry the same sword. His father’s, taken from the ashes and polished faithfully since we found it.
It had been a long time since I’d been in Ander’s private spaces. Cara sat down as if she were comfortable here, and it grated at me more than I had expected. I remained standing.
“I thought you would be an ally to me in keeping Cara here. Safe.”
There was an uncharitable part of me that wondered if he did not mind seeing Cara in danger when he had lost Tesa.
He waved the thought away. “I am an ally to Cara. Not to you.”
Arrogant prick.
“I like him,” Shadowbane interjected.
“That’s new.” And grating.
“I’m not eager to play any role in any plan of yours,” Ander said. “You’re asking many favors of me for someone I despise.”
“I’m aware.”
“Good. Then we’re starting honestly for once.” He looked at Cara once, briefly, and then back at me. “Tell me what you’re doing and what you need.”
I did not grit my teeth, but it was an effort. Gods, did he love to ferret out my plans; he should spend the same energy on making his own. Point to him for this round, though: I gave him the shape of things as concisely as I could.
“And what is your excuse for disappearing from the Trials?”
I already had the beginnings of a plan. I had a great mask-worker and would assign someone from Bismyth to be me, as long as no one got close; he would have to stay in my private home for a few days, which would not be a hardship.
“I’m sure you have some brilliant idea, Ander.”
“I do.” He seemed immune to sarcasm. He always had been. “If you disappear, the queen will know you’re the thief. She always suspects you when her plots are foiled.”
I grinned without humor in it. “Thank you.”
“You can’t simply vanish. You need somewhere to go. Somewhere that explains why you’ve left and why you’ve left without Bismyth behind you. As if you were running away,” Ander finished, enjoying himself.
Cara’s eyes widened as she glanced between us.
“A fight.” Mission, mission, focus on the mission and not the desire to pay Ander back for every smug look.
“Sufficient for you to hide to lick your wounds. It would have to be quite the affair—with Cara rejecting you—and quite the humiliation.” He looked at me with an expression I had never particularly cared for, even when we were close.
“A small audience, easy to manipulate, but we make sure that a member of one of the clans who will report back to the queen witnesses it. Probably Selenite. Or Malachite. They’re absurdly loyal to her.”
“That’s not how this works.” His tone was soft, but that only made him sound as if he was conniving. “You plant lies all the time. The queen won’t believe it unless a significant group has seen you humiliated. The arena, after the Hunt, would be ideal.”
He seemed far too fond of the word humiliation. I was embarrassed on his behalf.
“I’ll need something to be angry about,” he mused. “Don’t worry. There are plenty of options.”
I did not particularly relish the idea of an unscripted fight with him where his job was to convince the court I was humiliated and my job was to take it. It required trusting Ander not to take it further than useful when he had plentiful reasons, old and new, to break my jaw.
“I’ll do you this favor, and Cara goes with you,” Ander said. “It’s her choice. That’s my first term.”
He seemed to delight in taking Cara’s side. I wasn’t sure if it was out of loyalty to her, disdain for me, or an even mix of both.
She had already decided; her determination was in the set of those pretty lips, the way her chin lifted. Continuing to argue it here, in front of Ander, was wasted effort. “Her choice.”
Cara was not surprised. She had known she would win.
That was irritating in a way I didn’t have time to examine.
“Second term. When the knife is retrieved, I have first claim on its use after the obvious. You come to me before you use it for any other purpose.”
“Define obvious,” I said. “Then first.”
“Obviously you’ll be using it to free Tay.” He didn’t miss a beat. “After that, you consult with me before you use it.”
“I’m not fetching it for you any more than I am for the queen.”
He held my gaze. “I’m not taking it from you. I’m requiring a conversation. I don’t believe in anyone having unchecked power like you have in your clan. Not you, not me either, but especially not you.”
I did not relish the idea of more conversations with Ander. But I thought of Tesa, carrying an enchantment that needed to be carved away, and of how arduous his terms would be if he knew I kept him from his ghost. “Agreed.”
He studied me for half a second longer than required. I’d agreed too quickly, and he distrusted any concession from me that wasn’t dressed in armor and spikes. But he moved on.
He had opinions on the fight. This was, in retrospect, predictable.
He wanted it in the arena when the winners of this Hunt were announced. He wanted raised voices and at least the threat of violence, though knowing him, he would relish the chance at actual blows.
“You approach me with your usual arrogance, even though Cara is mine. I establish the boundaries you tend to forget. We argue about Cara.”
“We’ve done that already,” I said.
“Fear, I’ve wanted to kick your ass for her sake even though we’ve done that already all week. I can sell it.”
“Fine,” I said, and then, “Try not to enjoy yourself.”
“I genuinely cannot help myself.”
“You both need to be careful.” Cara sat forward.
I was about to assure her that Ander would not be harmed much when she leaned forward, her elbows on the table.
“If it looks like Fear has been diminished, that creates different problems. Mortals are excited because they believe I represent their power, but if I am tied to Fear and he is no longer a myth, then some of that power ebbs.”
She looked at Ander. “If he leaves rather than let the fight escalate, it’s not a loss. It’s just Fear being his calculating, devious self. The queen will believe it, but it’s not a story that will catch fire.”
Her read on the situation was admirable. “I’m not sure I appreciate your use of adjectives.”
Ander considered her. “I see your logic.”
“The queen knows him.” Cara’s gaze cut to me, unapologetic about her assessment. “He’ll back down when he thinks a fight isn’t worthwhile and try another tactic. Even if that means what most of us would term running away.”
I continued to feel uncomplimented, though I was impressed Cara had read me so well.
“Lightbringer is going to adore her,” Shadowbane murmured, pride rising in the same way dragons sometimes puffed themselves up, holding their heads high and wings spread. He felt he had accomplished something in preventing me from making a total mess of things with Cara. Perhaps he was correct.
“Good thinking,” Ander admitted. “I’ll give you your fight. You come in too hot, I call it, we flirt with violence, you make her calculation, and escape.”
I didn’t love the entire concept, but I nodded. To Cara, I added, “We’ll leave after this Hunt. As soon as we’ve had our fight.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Ander met my gaze across the table. “Last favor, Fear.”