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Chapter 23 ~ Breakfasts, Brines, and Bribes
Rígan
It had been over a week since we’d started interacting with people, and just over two weeks since arriving in Tírdorcha. It was long, and so far unfruitful, but today we were planning to take on a more commercial street we hadn’t returned to since scouting. Hopefully we’d find something there. But that would come later in the day. For now, I was still content to lounge in bed.
It was, sadly, not relaxing.
áine moved about on the other side of the room I was sharing with her and Bryn, taking the opportunity to get in some training. Her daggers cleaved through the air, gray silhouettes against the closed curtains. She was usually silent, but something about training brought out little huffs with each move.
I grumbled. áine snored like a wounded bear, constantly disrupting my sleep. Now, the huffing disrupted my ability to relax. Bryn, capable of sleeping through anything, looked peaceful beside me as she dozed. It infuriated me. I would have covered my exposed ear with a pillow, but there were only two on the bed. And it would be rude to steal the second one from under my sister while she slept.
I yanked my portion of the blankets over my head to get my point across instead.
“You could join me,” áine whispered.
“No thanks,” I mumbled into the blanket cocoon. It was too early to warrant being out of bed. Especially given the commercial areas wouldn’t rise for another couple hours.
Across the hall, the door to Lou, Maya, and Brí’s room clicked open and closed.
After spending hours with Brí that first day, I’d hoped to share alone time with two of my three best friends. I’d figured Lou and Brí would share a room, leaving Maya with me and Bryn. Except the second we started dividing ourselves up, Maya said she’d room with Lou. Bryn, of course, took it in stride, as it was something Maya wanted. But Bryn wilted once Maya walked away, once again refusing to speak up for what she wanted.
Bryn told me her time with Maya spying on the gate had been wonderful. So why Maya’s quick insistence to get distance from my sister?
But they were still speaking to each other, Maya not doing anything to avoid spending time with Bryn. Maybe Maya figured it made sense to divvy the four of us up evenly.
And truthfully, spending more time with áine had been good. It turned out she had a great sense of humor when she wanted to, and wasn’t so cold to be around. She’d just needed to warm up to us. Like a cat.
“You certain you don’t want to join?” áine checked, poking my foot with a dagger.
I stuck my head out, hissed, and retreated back into my blanket cocoon.
Two hours later, when the inn was waking up and the streets were following suit, the six of us sat at a table in the tavern portion of the inn. Breakfast had been prepared by Lou and the inn’s cook with Bryn’s help. After Lou won the challenge our first evening, the cook had asked them to keep helping during their stay, and Bryn, eager to learn some new skills, joined.
Brí sat across from me, nodding when we made eye contact. I returned the gesture without a word, the tension present but manageable. At least she seemed to be adjusting to the whole team-of-equals situation, not having tried to give us an order for a record five days.
Every time it happened, it brought the stiffness back to my neck.
Maya sat next to me, bumping her shoulder playfully into mine as we waited for the cook to bring out one more dish. Bryn sat on my other side, blushing from time to time. Just because their time together before entering Tírdorcha had been comfortable didn’t mean Bryn was any better at flirting. Nor was I certain Maya knew Bryn’s awkwardness was flirting. And so the saga continued like bookends on either side of me.
The cook placed a plate of sticky buns in front of us and winked at Lou and Bryn before we all loaded our plates. Breakfast smelled divine, fresh fruit and bacon and cinnamon and just the right amount of sugary dough to make it feel like dessert.
“Let’s figure out particulars,” I said. Though other patrons filled the tavern, our table was secluded, providing privacy.
I took a heaping bite of sticky bun. Bryn toyed with the bracelet at her wrist as she watched me, having helped with the baking. I melted at the first bite, withering in my seat, wishing I could devour them all. Caramel coated my fingers, and I licked each one greedily. Bryn laughed airily, relief plain to see, and took her own share of food.
Brí wiped her fingers of bacon grease. “We won’t go to the pier again”—we’d done so while scouting, and the atmosphere was thick with so much worry that any questions from visitors would stick out like a sore thumb—“so commercial streets around there are off-limits. But we’ve got our pick of quieter streets and the more popular ones.” She popped a few grapes, imported from Fenwald, into her mouth. “We should choose a popular one. We’ll be able to glean more from the shop owners there.”
I was shocked by the suggestion, used to Brí pointing out those quieter places over the busy ones. Perhaps she was starting to see the value in talking to people sooner rather than later.
“I agree,” Maya said.
“I do, too,” I said. Brí puckered her lips. “It should provide good information. And it’s easier to blend in with more people,” I added, knowing she needed a little more to believe me.
Her expression eased, and I sighed. I didn’t need her on edge around me, not in a way that would have her questioning me during missions. I’d have to put aside the tension and do something about that.
“If we break off into pairs again,” Lou said, “we can tackle more ground. We’ve been seen around enough the four of us. I suggest I go with Brí, and Maya and Rígan go together.”
That would make it seem like Maya and Lou were new friends who wanted to provide a helpful distraction from our grief. Perfect. It would let us interact with others without the expectation of only discussing our fake reasons for being in Tírdorcha.
Still, the wailing actress in me cried at the missed opportunity.
“Why don’t we go to the thoroughfare between the central and eastern shrines?” Bryn suggested. “It was livelier with art and music and quaint shops. There’s a better chance of people talking in that crowd, I think.”
“That’s a great idea,” Brí said.
“The two of us can act as lookouts again,” áine said to Bryn. During scouting, we’d all worked together, but in the riskier areas like the pier, áine had started teaching Bryn how to be a lookout, holding her weight properly on buildings and moving from one to the other without being seen, all while scanning for danger. Soon, Bryn could hold the position on her own, our shooter and sole lookout whenever we found our lead.
“We’ll still have to be careful interacting with people,” Brí said. “Make sure we don’t show our hand.”
“We will be,” I said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and land on a lead today.” Bryn flinched a little into me.
When everyone was engrossed in different conversation, I leaned into Bryn, whispering, “You know, if you don’t want to be present for whatever interrogation we set up, you don’t have to be. One of us can be shooter. No one would judge you for it.”
She stared at her lap. “I know. I might back out when that comes, if I’m honest. The thought of training my arrow on an actual person . . .” She gulped down a mouthful of apple juice. “But I need to see how this all goes first. The finding leads part. You might need me. Besides, it’s good practice of a new skill. And I’m here to figure things out about myself, aren’t I?”
It was more of a question to herself than a rhetorical one to me. I grabbed her hand under the table.
After breakfast, we pushed our way outside, the sun shining. The dull buildings turned a prettier, more lively shade in the light, spider-cracks of silver winding through the stones. A gust of wind tore through the street, and I immediately wished I’d put my hair all the way up rather than half.
I hiked up my cream-colored skirt, avoiding rank manure that had yet to be dealt with as we made our way to the chosen street. Brí did the same with her skirt, ensuring her cloak remained settled around the—approved—weapon at her hip. I readjusted my cloak to make sure mine did the same.
The appointed street was as busy as expected, regulars and tourists meandering, peddlers hawking their wares, artists showing off their craft. Fish, cooking fires, and kilns mingled with perfumes and flowers. I soon had to drag Lou’s attention back to us, their focus latching on a weaver creating a beautiful tapestry outside a shop.
“We have a mission,” I whispered.
“And I can multitask,” they whispered back, a gleam in their eyes as they watched the weaver. “For instance, I’m aware there are three sellswords on the other end of the street, two guards a block back, and the customer approaching the loom likely owns a cat given the state of their shirt.”
It was true—the black fabric was coated in white strands no longer than my pinkie finger.
“Show off.”
I scanned the rooftops. No sign of my sister or áine, though that was a good thing. If I couldn’t see them, it was unlikely an unsuspecting passerby would. And with áine’s skills, I doubted even Lady Umber’s hired help would notice them.
“You take right, we take left?” Maya indicated to the sides of the street where doors propped open into shops and patrons lingered with parcels and bags.
“Meet you at the end of the street,” Brí said. “Remember to be careful of the alleys.”
Inside the first store, Maya scanned the shelves like she was looking at them and not the people around her. “Glad Lou suggested this pairing?”
“What makes you say that?” I inspected a braided ring of silver. The price wasn’t terrible. Perhaps I’d be buying things of my own on this mission. I moved past it, anyway, refocusing on the other customers. If I went and bought something at the first store, I’d buy one from every shop along the street. Maybe the last one sold rings I’d like better. Or we could stop here on the way back up.
“I’m assuming you don’t want to be stuck with Brí.”
“Whatever might you be talking about?” I asked dryly.
“Gee, I wonder. It’s not like it’s been two weeks of iciness or anything.”
I huffed. Bryn had tried to talk to me about Brí, too, but I hadn’t wanted to get into it. Not yet. Even if Bryn had made a fair point—Brí’s position as commander was less than a year old, which could impact her mindset—Brí was still being an unwarranted ass.
“I will make things better with her,” I said. “And I’m making sure it doesn’t get in the way of our mission. I just need a little more distance from her condescension before I try to repair things.” Even though I wished Brí would make the first move.
“Fair enough. I would feel the same way, I’m sure.”
“Trust me, you would. It was so . . .” I ended in a strangle of incoherent frustration when the words escaped me. It drew the attention of a middle-aged woman, who eyed me cautiously.
“Forgive my friend, she’s in mourning,” Maya said. The woman softened, touched a hand to her heart by way of apologies to me and mine, and carried on with her day.
“That was a mourning sound?”
“She bought it, didn’t she?”
By the time we reached halfway down the street, we’d had eight conversations with locals, learning mostly what we’d already figured—the attacks at the pier were putting people on edge, making them worry Tírdorcha would be the next Ardanna. None, though, seemed to be worried about being the next Keep, not with Lady Umber and her insistence on protecting them. And only one man directly complained about Dàibhid not taking the right approach. Whether he was a rebel or simply more in favor of a war, I couldn’t tell. It wasn’t like the latter was treasonous, nor was disliking Dàibhid. Maya and I agreed to keep an eye on the man, but nothing more.
The next shop we entered heralded our arrival with a tinkling bell above the door. Shelves upon shelves of jars filled the store, all made of glass and all stuffed with brined food. Little carvings were interspersed among them, trees and religious symbols and animals. Maya and I split up, meandering through the aisles in search of customers to chat with, or, even better, the shop owners themselves.
I picked up a carving of a crow, covertly looking around while my thumb idly stroked the stone feathers. The store was decently busy, patrons carrying as many jars as they could hold. Maybe Lou would like some for the next meal.
I set my sights on someone maybe ten years older than me, a small child holding their fingers, when a squeaky voice rose behind me.
“My eldest son’s work.”
I turned to the older woman barely reaching my elbow. Whisps of fine silver hair jutted out from her pink scalp at random, like the silvery veins in the city’s stonework. One strong gust of wind and she’d float away. I softened my features, making sure I still gave off an air of sadness despite the openness.
“It’s beautiful.” Truthfully, it was one of the most beautiful carvings I’d ever seen. The crow seemed alive, but it wasn’t menacing like other carrion carvings could be. This one was gentle, the head high but beak firmly closed, the wings at ease. It was likely a Dérra crow meant to instill comfort. Though I wasn’t truly in mourning, I still felt that comfort. I cradled it to my chest like a stuffed animal. The smooth black stone was solid, an anchor to ground me. “Does your son own the shop?”
“He does.” She practically glowed, and I got choked up. He was lucky to have a mother who supported him. “He does so well for himself. Our family had always been farmers and fishers until him. He wanted to strike out, be his own man. And now he has this shop.” She looked around as if equally proud of the brick and mortar itself. “It’s one of the most popular with the locals. Which, I’m assuming, you aren’t.”
I made sure to round my shoulders enough to appear even less threatening. “No. My sister-in-law and I have come to secure final rites for my late husband.” I strangled the last few words.
She laid a hand on my arm. The third finger had a pale band of skin on it, like a ring had occupied it for a long time. Had she lost her spouse?
“My condolences,” she said. “Losing a loved one is hard.”
I cleared my throat, pretending I needed to change the subject. “You said the shop is popular? Is it just you and your son who work it?”
She chuckled. “Gods, no. It’s turned into a family affair, between my youngest son growing the food, my brother-in-law fishing, my daughter-in-law taking care of stock, my eldest son brining and doing the carvings and the finances, me buttering the customers up.” She winked. “My late husband helped too, and my sister from time to time. Especially during the busy months. Ah, there’s my daughter-in-law now.”
A blond-haired woman walked in, carrying a crate of what I assumed were jars. She walked up to her mother-in-law and did a double take when she saw me. Did she peg me as a sellsword? How could she, when I was certain I’d never seen her before? I supposed she could have come through our gate at Ardanna—
She hastily led the elder woman away, speaking in rushed, whispered tones. The elder waved her off, grabbed some of the jars for a shelf, and pointed for her daughter-in-law to go to a back room. The younger stormed off, sending a nasty look my way.
“Apologies,” the elder woman said when she returned. “My daughter-in-law is hesitant of any face she doesn’t recognize.”
I avoided telling her that hesitant was an understatement. There was venom in that gaze. “My sister-in-law and I were hesitant to come here ourselves with, you know . . .”
“That I do, dear. But it doesn’t do to dwell on the what-ifs, now does it? Not with King Dàibhid sending people after Balor himself.”
At least she believed Dàibhid was doing something. Thankfully the wrong thing, or that could spell trouble for us.
“She doesn’t come into the store as often anymore,” she continued. “Drives away the lovely folk such as yourself.”
“You’re not wary of me?” I dared ask.
“Nah. I can tell when someone is wrong for this place. When Dérra would rather kick them in the ass than welcome them with open arms.” I shoved down a snicker at the image.
If she wasn’t wary of me, what could I get out of her that I couldn’t someone else?
“I’m glad to hear I pass inspection.” I let out a toned-down version of my genuine smile. I might have been working an angle, but I did quite like her. I glanced around, feigning suspicion, and pointed to a customer coming through the door. “What about them?”
She leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s here every Fourth Day. Has been for years. But he does try to haggle, so he doesn’t pass with flying colors.”
I giggled, remembering to make it higher pitched than normal.
Her features twisted. “There was one fellow the other day, though. Nasty look about him. Oh, he was all good clothing and well-kept appearances, but there was something about him. Like he thought everything was a possession to be claimed.” She clucked her tongue. “If you see anyone like that you stay far away, you hear?”
“I wouldn’t want to get mixed up with that sort.” I shuddered for effect. “Has he come back since?”
“No. Well, not yet. He placed an order and is coming back to get it. I couldn’t turn him away because of a bad feeling, now could I? Do me a favor, dear, and don’t be around here after dinnertime, alright?”
“Is that when he’s due back?”
“Customer privacy. I can’t tell you that. But he hasn’t come yet. And I don’t want you here after dinnertime. Understood?”
Gotcha .
“Understood. Thank you, miss.”
She smiled broadly, making her beautiful laughter lines stand out. “Oh, no one’s called me miss in years! You’re too sweet.”
“I’ll stay away on one condition, though.”
“And what’s that?”
“That you’re not here after dinnertime, either.” I might be planning on returning in the shadows to follow this potential lead, but I wasn’t sure I could act quickly enough if this mysterious customer pulled anything inside the shop, and I couldn’t imagine not being there to protect her.
“Don’t you worry, my eldest will be here instead of me. He’s quite handy with a blade, you know.” She said it so offhandedly it could have been another proud statement from a mother about her son. But the intensity lingered.
“Your son would protect you like that?”
“That he would. He looks after his own.”
My sigh of relief was anything but fake. “I’m glad you have him.”
“We all need someone like him right about now, don’t we? Looking out for us.”
It was then I realized I hadn’t put down the crow carving, still stroking the feathers absentmindedly. The woman had implied her son wasn’t above killing in self-defense. I killed people in self-defense and in the defense of the country. Of its people. But I was also protective, and caring, and refused to let those parts of me die with every life I took. A little like Dérra.
“I’d like to buy this.”
Outside, the carving tucked lovingly into a pocket of my cloak, I led Maya over to a bench. When it was clear no one was listening, I told her what the woman told me.
“It could be a lead,” Maya acknowledged. “It’s worth checking out.”
“It could be one of those fishy people you and Bryn saw coming in.”
“It could be.” She bit her thumbnail, thinking. “If it turns out to be viable, we could be onto something.”
“Thank gods for that.” I stared at the sky, bits of blue peeking out behind fluffy clouds. “We need to get something back to him.”
She didn’t need clarification. “We will. I can feel it in my gut. This time will be different.”
How different was the question.
We met up with Brí and Lou an hour later, meandering toward the eastern shrine, where áine and Bryn were waiting for us.
I shared the news with everyone and explained that I’d like to return after dinner in hopes of locating and following this man.
“It’s worth a shot,” Lou said. “Closer to a lead than what we got.”
“Which was?”
“A few people have purchased homes in the affluent areas. Not many, and they all seem nice enough, apparently. It’s just everyone’s on edge.”
“Maybe we ask around more about that after this lead, especially if it doesn’t pan out,” Bryn said. “They may simply be new to the city, but maybe there’s more to it.”
“Sounds good to me,” Maya said.
“And me,” Brí said.
“Perfect,” I said. “And now we wait.”
Before walking away from the shrine, Brí pulled me aside.
“You know I’m still not used to this dynamic,” she said.
“I do.”
“And that it’s taking time for me to adjust.”
So I’ve noticed.
“You’ve come up with a solid idea. I would have gone with it if you were under my command.”
The words were kind, but the tone was patronizing.
“Thank you?”
Her eyes flashed at the hesitant sarcasm.
“I get it’s hard for you, Brí, but Dàibhid didn’t put you in charge. I am sorry it’s a hard adjustment. I can appreciate why it would be.” Sort of, not really. “But don’t take the resentment you feel toward your brother out on us.” Or on me, at least. None of the others got it directed at them.
“Noted.” She walked off, her skirts swishing.
I wanted to try that strangled scream I’d done earlier, but thought that might be a bit much for the older couple walking by.
Maya blew into her hands to warm them against the chill evening. It wasn’t that bad, but the sun was sinking and the shadows were lengthening, casting the street in semidarkness. The wind from the nearby sea kicked up pieces of garbage where we hid in an alley, and then I did shiver. Still, I took off my cloak and put it around Maya’s shoulders.
“Thanks.” She pulled the cloak tighter. “I miss the Nibari heat.”
“I think I’d do piss-poor in a savanna.”
“That’s because you would.”
“I can handle the heat!”
“That’s literally the opposite of what you just said.”
“I fail to see your point.”
She swatted my arm with the edge of my cloak. “In fairness, I doubt many Cunlarans would handle extreme heat well.”
I bit my cheek. Halkberg got much hotter than Cunlaran in summer. Not savanna hot, but hot.
“That’s a slight on the good people of this country.”
She snorted. “If I could stomach being in the same country as my sorry-excuse-for-an-ex and the shittier-excuse-for-an-emperor, I’d drag you there myself and see how you made out.”
I stuck my tongue out at her before returning my attention to the street. Though a few people had wandered into the brine shop across the way, none met the description the woman had given. One person almost did, but a flash of mirror against a lantern told us to hold position. Lou waited inside, pretending to shop for food—at least, I assumed they were pretending—while keeping watch for our shady errand boy.
áine squatted on the shop’s roof, ready to trail us, and Brí lurked in an alley down and across from us. Bryn waited further down the street, in case he started running.
After ten more minutes, a tall, lanky figure emerged from the shop, a parcel under his arm. He must have gone in while my attention was diverted, otherwise I would have been ready to trail even before he stepped inside.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said.
The man walked with a casual swagger, like he was king and not Dàibhid. He eyed an approaching woman not only appreciatively but possessively, and she skirted to the other side of the street. He chuckled like her aversion was amusing. I spat on the stones.
“Um, gross,” Maya said to me. “What’s wrong?”
Lou stepped out of the shop a moment later.
“Figures,” I mumbled. Maya grabbed my sleeve as she followed me into the street, keeping to the sides so as to not draw attention. Lou was a few paces ahead. Brí emerged from her hiding place shortly after we passed.
“What figures?” Maya said.
“The man we’re following? I know him. Remember the sleazy sellsword I told you about from the crossroads tavern?”
“Gods, that’s him?”
It was. Fenton strolled around a corner onto a quieter street. Bryn was ahead of him, and he marked her with a turn of his head.
Maya stiffened. “I think Bryn and I saw him come into the city while we watched the gate.” She caught Bryn’s eye and pointed at Fenton. Bryn nodded, and I stifled a groan. Of course Fenton was a fishy arrival.
Suddenly, Maya was gone from my side and in Fenton’s line of sight.
“Hey, handsome,” she said, effectively driving Fenton’s attention away from my sister to her.
Even with his back to me, I could imagine the perusal Fenton was giving Maya. I jerked my head, telling Bryn to get out of sight.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?” he said.
“Not alone now, am I?” Maya sauntered up to him, trailing a finger down his arm as she flashed her most sultry smile. “Care to join me for a drink?”
“Lead the way.” He snaked an arm around her waist, trailing his hand over her ass. I wanted to gut him for it.
Most people would notice their predicament when being led down a dead-end alley. Fenton, it seemed, had given control of his body over to his dick and noticed absolutely nothing.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he asked.
“Maybe.” Maya stepped away from him and smiled. This time, it was deadly. “But you do know her.”
Fenton twisted, but I was faster.
I punched him straight in the nose, a satisfying crack resounding through the alley and jolting my hand.
Worth it.
He clutched his bleeding nose. “ You ,” he spat.
I gave him a little wave as I shook the other hand off. “Me.”
“You’re the reason Landon made off with half my money!”
Good for him.
“Clearly you don’t need it,” I said. His shirt was silk, a silver chain hung about his neck, and the leather of his boots looked top quality.
His sneer slipped, noting Lou and Brí behind me. He looked back at Maya, realization dawning. áine hopped from a roof to land beside us, and Fenton gulped.
He snapped the chain off from around his neck. “Here, just take it.”
“We’re not here to rob you,” I said. “We just want to ask some questions.”
His eyes narrowed. “Such as?”
“Who’s the parcel for?” Brí asked.
He raised an appreciative eyebrow as he took her in. Was he still unaware we were interrogating him, in a dead-end alley, where we had him surrounded?
A flash of Brí’s dagger had him taking a step back into Maya, who threw him off.
“It’s for my employer! Gods.” He straightened his shirt, making sure everything was perfectly in place.
“And who might that be?” I asked.
“All this to learn who I’m working for? It’s not like it’s a secret. He’s an established merchant in the city. A wealthy merchant. See, sweetheart? I didn’t have to stoop so low, after all.”
He smirked like he had the most important job in the world and we should bow before him. I half wanted to see what he would say if I told him who our employer was.
“But you would have,” I said. He shrugged, confirming.
“So you’re an errand boy?” Brí asked.
Fenton bristled, and I hid my smile. Brí might get on my nerves, but she did know how to work people when it counted.
“I’m no errand boy! I’m his personal guard on business endeavors.”
“What sort of business endeavors?” Lou asked.
“Like I’d tell you lot.”
I looked again at his clothes, the chain, and what seemed to be a quality sword I hadn’t seen on him at the crossroads tavern. Wealthy merchant . Fenton had never been in the business for an honorable job; he’d always been in it for the money. His loyalty would lie with whoever could pay him more.
“We can pay you for any information you have about your client,” I said. “Good money.”
“You don’t have that kind of money, sweetheart.”
Brí removed a single silver crest from her pouch, enough to prove we did, indeed, have that kind of money. Perks of being on the king’s payroll. Fenton licked his lips greedily.
“My client lives in the wealthier district, close to the central shrine. He offered me work after I told him I’d be invaluable in these troubling times, especially with rumors of Exiles being so close. He hired me on the spot, swearing me to secrecy and entrusting me with his personal security. I monitor his meetings, his comings and goings, and in exchange, I get to live like the king himself.”
“What happens in the meetings?” Maya pried.
He refused to answer until Brí waved another coin at him. He snatched it from her fingers.
“Secret ones. I’m not privy to what happens, and I don’t ask questions. Not what I’m paid for.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. We were going to have to give him so much money at this rate.
“Your client give you that?” Brí jutted her chin toward the chain—complete with medallion—he was still holding. The medallion was silver like the chain, though it could have been plated wood or some other cheap material. Wealthy merchants often liked to skimp on the salaries of their workers.
He puffed his chest. “That he did.” He looked to me. “Regret not taking a chance on me now?”
“Hardly.” I eyed the medallion. One side had hinges. “What’s in it?”
He shrugged, and I snatched it from him. After a few attempts and passing it around the group, áine pried it open with a dagger. Her fingers tightened around it.
“Why do you have this?” she asked, quiet and threatening.
He hesitated. “I told you, my client gave it to me. A form of payment for my services.”
I peered over áine’s shoulder. My veins iced over while my vision turned red.
“A form of payment my ass,” I said, wordlessly requesting the medallion from áine before thrusting the engraved double-sword Exile symbol in his face. “An expression of gratitude for loyalty, more like.”
Fenton went pale. “I swear I didn’t know that was in there.”
“Bullshit,” Brí said.
“I swear! I couldn’t get it open when I first tried, so I gave up.”
“Is your client meeting with the Exiles?” I asked.
His shaking became frantic. “I’m telling you, I don’t know!”
“Have you ever seen this symbol on your client?” Brí asked.
“Never. Not once. I promise.”
Lou put their mouth close to my ear. “Exiles tend to recruit rebels knowingly. This doesn’t feel like Exile work. Plus, he looks too scared to be faking it.”
But was Fenton scared of us, or of them?
áine stepped closer. “What’s your employer’s name?”
He opened his mouth, then looked at Brí’s waist. To her money pouch.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I took a few coins from my own pouch and shoved them into his hand. “Talk.”
“I only know his last name. Ragerty. The people he meets with are also merchants, some new to the city.”
Lou and I exchanged a glance. The people they and Brí had learned about?
“All I really know about the meetings is that they talk shipping deals. Not sure of what. I’ve been getting money so I haven’t tried to learn anything more than that.”
I patted his cheek. “Good. When’s his next meeting?”
“I don’t know.” áine pulled a dagger on him and he threw his hands up. “There isn’t another one planned yet! But he does have a lunch soon.”
“When?” I asked.
“Three days.”
“Where?”
“A restaurant near the pier.”
“Is that close to Ragerty’s?”
“It’s a good fifteen-minute carriage ride.”
The five of us moved to stand at the mouth of the alley. There were no good footholds for Fenton to climb—we’d be on him in a second. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“So we’re going to Ragerty’s house to search for a lead in three days, right?” I said, hushed.
“It’s worth it,” Brí said. “We should see what information he keeps at his house, if anything ties him to the Exiles and if there are leads we can follow.”
“It’s the best chance at getting written intel Dàibhid can use,” Maya said.
“We can copy it down so we don’t leave signs we were there,” I said.
“Or memorize it,” Brí said. “That way it’s not on us. I can do that.”
Because her education would have made memorization easier for her. Like mine had. Like Bryn’s had. Memorizing it was the smarter move. But could I come up with a good reason why our skills were on equal footing without giving anything away? Or would we need to use paper for whatever Brí couldn’t work with?
“Then once we get all the information we can from that, we interrogate Ragerty if needed,” Lou added, pulling me from my dilemma.
“I like that,” Brí said. After a second, she looked at all of us for confirmation. We all nodded. Why bother with dirty work if it was all laid out for us on paper?
“Let’s see what money will buy us, shall we?” I said.
We resumed our stances around Fenton. Maya stepped up to him. “You’re going to help us break into Ragerty’s house in three days. We’ll pay you enough to start over somewhere new. Outside Cunlaran. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”
“And we will make sure you leave the country,” I said. “Because if you don’t, then I’ll kill you.”
His throat’s apple bobbed like he believed us.
Table of Contents
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- Page 27 (Reading here)
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