Page 102 of With Wing And Claw

‘Let’s not tell them, then,’ she said, making her decision in a single, brilliant heartbeat.

Even Silas blinked in surprise. ‘Beg your pardon?’

‘Let’s arrest them and not tell the court why.’ Relief came rushing in as she spoke – a fresh breeze filling her chest, driving back the stifling dark. ‘Just … just say they’re suspected of conspiring against the crown. Everyone and their mother is conspiring against the crown these days, so that’s a perfectly believable explanation. And then we can quietly hand them over to the Alliance after all and be done with it.’

Four pairs of eyes were staring at her now.

‘The alves can take them from here without a whisper,’ she added, a fraction more defensively. ‘And I’m sure the Alliance will agree not to make too much noise about the trials themselves if we ask them. Then when that’s all over—’

‘Thys,’ Silas interrupted, rubbing his temple as if to soothe a headache. ‘You do realise that the truthwillcome out sooner or later, don’t you?’

Sooner would be bad.

Later … she could survive later.

‘All I know is that it shouldn’t come outnow.’ She gave a joyless laugh. ‘The tinderbox can do without this particular spark. If it spreads by the time we have trade figured out – well, this is the bloody Crimson Court, yes? As long as there’s food and wine, does anyone really care about their fellow fae enough to make a fuss?’

‘They do care about pride,’ Nicanor murmured below his breath.

Silas quietly grimaced beside him. Inga showed her unwilling agreement by not disagreeing at all. EvenNaxiwas looking a touch doubtfulas she toyed absently with her own pink curls – but then, of course Naxi was doubtful about this development if it meant she wouldn’t have any fae to kill soon …

And damn it all, it was easy for them to doubt, wasn’t it? None of them were the one whose head was on the line here.

‘We’re keeping it quiet,’ Thysandra repeated, more firmly now, or at least she hoped firmness was the impression she managed to convey. ‘That’s my final decision, and you can take it as an order. Do we need bargains to ensure secrecy, or—’

‘Already got mine,’ Nicanor wryly interrupted, raising his wrist to show the pale purple mark. For a single moment she was sure he would object again, that he would argue or even refuse to obey … and then the moment was over, and his blue wings slackened abruptly as he dropped his hand back to the table. All he said was, ‘As you wish, Your Majesty. Can I see the list?’

‘We’re going to need copies,’ Inga muttered as she shoved the letter towards him. Not a word of protest from her, either. ‘Should I make a start on those, then?’

Should she?

Without a bargain to keep her in check?

But then again … this wasInga, who had plenty of reason to wish a gruesome death upon every single fae mentioned on these sheets. She wouldn’t be warning the bastards, would she? She wouldn’t be causing trouble – trouble which would surely impact the humans, too – by spreading the explosive news?

‘Please do,’ Thysandra said, taking the leap. ‘One for Nicanor, please, and one for Gadyon as well. We need to know how many individuals on the list are already dead and which of the survivors are living on other fae isles at the moment.’

Inga nodded and picked up one of the pages. On the other side of the table, Nicanor was already reading through another, eyebrow climbing higher and higher up his forehead even though he did not speak a word.

‘Well,’ Silas said on a long exhale, shoving back his stool to rise to his feet. ‘I’ll just go make a few more bargains, then, shall I?’

Chapter 22

For three whole days,no one tried to throw Thysandra to the hounds.

Nicanor’s people worked quietly and efficiently, dragging fae from their beds at night or intercepting them on lone flights, avoiding witnesses at every arrest. Per Silas’s suggestion, the captives weren’t locked up at the Crimson Court itself, but on Ilithia. The deserted villa of Castor Thenes had swiftly been equipped with alf steel chains and locks to contain around a hundred magic users – fewer than the full two hundred and fifty names on the Alliance’s list, as it turned out over half of them had already died in battle, by the Mother’s orders, or even due to simple courtly scheming.

For three whole days, Bereas did not show his face, either. The fishing fleet was left alone. The island’s shores remained blissfully quiet. Only the whispers at court never calmed – but then, the mysterious disappearance of a few dozen prominent members did nothing to soothe the already feverish anticipation that hang over the halls and galleries. Perhaps, it was speculated, they had gone off and joined the Mother’s loyalists, wherever the hell those were hiding now?

Thysandra did nothing to dispel the theory. It was a rather convenient one, and not unlikely either; about two dozen fae on the list could not be arrested because they had indeed vanished with Bereas’s rebels.

For three whole days, the moon continued to wax.

On the fourth day, it had reached its fullest.

The morning of Hunter’s Moon was a cold one, and from her balcony, Thysandra watched the members of the court gather before the castle gate in coats and fur-lined boots. Jokes and tense laughter misted the air around them. Orthea paraded around in their midst, dressed for the occasion in a useless but most decorative hunter’s costume of slender leather trousers and a blood-red coat to complement her russet brown wings – she would, of course, not be participating in the competition herself.

‘Don’t they expect you to be there?’ Naxi asked. She had reluctantly joined Thysandra on the balcony but stubbornly refused to go anywhere near the edge; instead, she sat propped up in the doorway, her chin in her small hands, her fuzzy shawl around her shoulders. ‘Being their High Lady and everything?’