Page 28

Rígan

A puff of white air escaped my lips as I stood with Maya down the street from Ragerty’s house. The first signs of autumn had descended overnight, tipping leaves and blades of grass with silver lace, and the thin cloud cover had done little to improve things.

“I know we don’t know for certain that Ragerty is a rebel or an Exile, but his house sure screams ‘I’m more important than you,’” Maya said. “Wealthy neighborhood, fancy carriage, stained glass and imported flowers . . .”

“I don’t know,” I said. “The gaudy statue gives it a sophisticated touch.”

We’d been scouting the neighborhood for the last couple of days, and every time I looked at the house, the more fitting it felt. Despite it being a similar build to the houses around it, Ragerty managed to find a way to make it do exactly as Maya claimed.

“My ex would love it,” she said roughly.

“You’ve been talking about him more. Everything alright?”

“Yes. I guess. I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about him more again.”

“Why?”

“Just ’cause. Hate it, but it happens.”

“What have you been thinking about?”

She pulled on a curl that hadn’t stayed in her bun, stretching it taut before letting it bounce and repeating the motion. “How he disrespected me. How I didn’t see it coming.”

I put my arm around her shoulders. We’d talked about him before, but she didn’t like talking about it long. Didn’t like thinking about how he’d ridiculed her behind her back. How the emperor, known for his shit talking, hadn’t even needed to bribe him. Her ex had done it willingly and hidden their interactions from her for months. The lies he’d come up with had been alarmingly meticulous.

There wasn’t much I could say that I hadn’t already, anyway. But my presence was something.

She put her head on my shoulder. “Thanks.”

“For?”

“Being a better person than him.”

I rubbed her arm, equal parts flattered and full of rage.

It wasn’t long before Brí sidled up to us, her hood pulled over her hair. The dye job was fading. She’d already redone it once, and she was running low on supplies. We’d need to find a brick of the stuff soon.

“Are we ready?” she asked.

We’d forgone our alias outfits, donning tunics, fighting leathers, and sturdy boots. Our thick cloaks—as much for the weather as for blending in—did a good job of concealing weapons stashed against thighs and hanging from hips.

“As we’ll ever be,” I said. It had been twenty minutes since Fenton and Ragerty had left in said fancy carriage.

We met Lou across the street. “Bryn settled?”

“She should be,” I said. After we’d told her we had a potential lead and that we were going to look for intel, she’d agreed to help. All she’d have to do is warn us of anyone approaching the house. She had her bow and arrows with her in case things went sideways, but with any luck, she wouldn’t need to touch them. She’d scaled the house next to Ragerty’s earlier, nestling against the chimney to conceal herself.

áine joined us a moment later with confirmation. “Bryn is in place.”

Brí marched forward. “Then let’s go.”

We had an hour, maybe two if we were lucky, to get what we needed. Fenton was going to get Ragerty to stay at the restaurant as long as possible, hopefully plying his client and the others with alcohol to slow them even more. He’d promised us a spare key under the side entrance mat, where deliveries were often deposited.

Maya retrieved the key, twisting it in the lock. The wood groaned as she pushed, and we all grimaced. Though we’d seen Ragerty leave, this could have been a trap. We waited, breath halted, as we listened for movement. A dog barked a few streets over. Coast clear, I followed Maya into a dimly lit kitchen, pots and pans lining the counters.

“For a wealthy merchant, he sure doesn’t like to spend money on help beyond the stabby kind,” I noted. Spilled sauce coated a portion of the counter.

“Maybe to reduce the chances of being spied on,” áine said.

Brí wandered over to the other side of the room and peered through a doorway. “All clear.”

“Shall we?” I said.

“See you on the other side of this,” Lou said, stepping into the hall.

Lou, Maya, and Brí spread out on the main floor while áine and I headed for the stairs. The rug-covered hardwood creaked as we ascended, the house showing signs of age. The upstairs hallway contained artwork and a table sporting semifresh flowers, and six closed doors. A quick check proved none to be locked, including the one leading to a sparse—and unused—servant’s quarters and back stairwell, perfect if we needed to escape.

The other doors led to three bedrooms, a storage room, and an office.

We started with the latter.

áine took half the room while I took the other, searching shelves and drawers, revealing ledgers that appeared to be genuine merchant documents. Agreements for fish sold to Ardanna, exchanges of goods with Glaochnamara, continent vessels arriving with merchandise for Tírdorcha, the south, and everywhere in between. I was careful to return everything to its place.

áine opened a chest in the corner, dust flying as the lid slammed back. áine’s nose wrinkled before she sneezed. I halted everything.

“ That’s your sneeze?”

She rubbed her nose and glared at me. “And?”

I put my hands on my cheeks. “It’s so godsdamn cute .”

“It’s a sneeze.”

“A cute sneeze. Everything else about you is so deadly and murdery and yet you make that adorable sound.”

She ground her jaw, eyes flashing. Then it was gone. “Better to deceive my enemies.”

I chuckled and peered over her shoulder into the musty chest. Rope tied in sailor’s knots, a drawing of a countryside, an old wedding band. Unused paper and quills. A letter opener. Not much worth noting. I went back to the bookshelf I’d been examining.

“So,” I said. “This could be a good opportunity to get to know each other better.”

“We’ve been sharing a room for two weeks.”

“And yet all I’ve learned is that you have a great sense of humor when you want to. And that you snore obnoxiously.” And that the scars on her palms were worse than I’d thought, mirrored on the inside of her fingers. I shuddered to think what had made her grip a blade—for that had to be what had done it—so tightly. “Do you never talk about yourself with others?”

“I’m a private person.”

“I respect that. But there has to be something you talk to other people about. Interests, places you’ve been, that sort of thing.”

She stared resolutely at a painting of a small child, the frame worn with age and perhaps touch. I left áine to her ruminating and kept investigating the shelf.

“I told you I’m here for revenge,” she said quietly. I paused everything. “I don’t like to talk about why. It’s just made me . . . really angry.”

“I imagine desire for revenge would do that to a person.”

She kept on like I hadn’t spoken. “I wasn’t always an angry person. What you’re asking of me used to come easily. But now . . .”

She wiped her eyes, turning away from me. I was sure she’d snap at me if I pointed it out.

“Now?”

“Now it’s hard.”

“Why?” I risked. I didn’t want to push her; she could tell me to fuck off if she wanted to.

Instead, she hesitated, like maybe she wanted to open up.

But then I adjusted my weight from one foot to the other, and the moment broke.

áine swung toward me. “What was that.”

I moved again, the floor squeaking beneath me. “It sounds off.”

“Hollow.”

I bent, examining the plank. Sure enough, a small bit of the corner was missing, just wide enough to jiggle something thin inside to pry it up.

“Pass me the letter opener, would you?”

I slid the tip into the opening and lifted, pulling the plank up with it. Inside was a ledger not unlike ones I’d found in the desk.

“Well, what do we have here?” I grabbed it, the leather cover soft and supple. I turned to the first page. It was stamped with crossed swords.

Finally.

“What does it say?” áine asked.

I flipped through it, numbers and dates staring back. “I’m honestly not sure.”

“Let me see.” She scanned the entries. “These dates look familiar.”

I leaned forward to read with her. I couldn’t place why, but they scratched something for me, too.

“Aren’t they some of the dates the pier was attacked?” she asked.

Remnants of conversations we’d overheard the last couple weeks floated to mind. “They are. Diversions?”

“Possibly. The numbers are small though. Unlikely to be supplies, which the Exiles could get here, anyway. Except their weapons and armor, I suppose. Those they seem to bring with them.”

They did; no matter the rumor, the city, the source, Exiles could only be identified by their Doaríc steel or stamped leather.

“Supplies could be hidden with other cargo, even well enough that port inspections would miss them,” I said. “I doubt diversions would be necessary for that, just some strategic placement.”

Wait. Other cargo . My heart pounded. “Remember what Phearson said? That Onyx thinks Exiles are transferring ships partway through their journey?”

We still didn’t know where or how that could be happening, only that it seemed like the plausible explanation. It certainly would help avoid any suspicion of influx in new ships if they were using what was already expected. Especially in Tírdorcha, which wasn’t a major port. I’d bet they were bribing captains. Possibly hiding Exiles among the port authorities, or at least convincing them to look the other way.

“What if this is how they’re keeping track of who’s coming in? What if this is a passenger log for each of those days?” I rocked back, laughing. “We found their numbers. We have something we can use . This is perfect.” I read page after page, taking it in. Each page only listed one number, presumably the Exile arrivals, but the markings underneath suggested supplies. Maybe their weapons.

My laughter died. Ten. Fifteen. Thirty. Nineteen. These numbers compounded, and quickly. If I tallied them all up, how many Exiles would we count? That didn’t even cover the number of rebels. And if we assumed every Exile had convinced at least one Cunlaran to join their cause . . .

“We need to get this back to Dàibhid,” I said. “If we can get Fenton to arrange for us to question Ragerty, see what else he knows about these numbers, what vessels they came in on, what they brought with them—”

“Rígan.” áine reached into the floor. “There’s a letter.”

This really was our lucky day.

“What’s it say?”

She flipped it open, skimming the pages. “Not where they are, that’s for sure.” She said it with bite. Why did that get her when nothing else here had?

“That is unfortunate,” I said slowly, not wanting to set her off. “But is it still useful?”

She handed it to me. It expanded on the contents of the ledger, saying to expect more Exiles in the coming weeks. Through Tírdorcha’s port. Another fifteen.

Shit, this was good. We knew to watch the port. Where fifteen Exiles would come in. We could investigate the transferring ships theory.

And the letter was signed by none other than Balor himself.

“áine, this is fantastic! We can work with this. Let me get out my writing supplies and copy this—”

A shrill, birdlike whistle cut through our conversation. Bryn’s warning. Someone was coming.

“Shit.” I thrust the ledger and letter into my satchel, securing them from sight.

A figure appeared in the office doorway. I had my sword out in a flash, áine following suit with her daggers.

Fenton put his hands up, face deathly pale. “One of the others had to cut the lunch short, and Ragerty has a migraine. I couldn’t keep him out any longer.”

“Where is he?” I demanded.

Crashing sounded from downstairs, Brí’s sudden cursing following.

“Your friends are trying to subdue him.”

Looked like we wouldn’t need Fenton to make arrangements for questioning, after all.

áine took the chair from behind the desk while I grabbed rope from the chest, preparing for the others to bring Ragerty up, before opening the window and signaling Bryn. We’d need her not only as lookout now but as backup. I didn’t linger at the window, too worried I’d start questioning whether áine should be on that roof instead of Bryn.

Fenton, for his part, fled the room, presumably to escape out the servant’s stairwell. Or to hide there until we gave him the promised money.

After much crashing and thrashing, Maya and Lou came into sight, Ragerty between them. He was somewhere in his forties, hair an even mix of salt and pepper above a high olive brow. His shorter, thin frame could have been called wiry, but he was giving up a good fight. He even broke free, but Lou was on him in moments, pinning him down. Together, he and Maya managed to drag Ragerty to the chair, where áine tied him up. I trained my sword on him as she did, making him think twice about trying to escape again.

Brí came hobbling in. “The bastard kicked my kneecap.”

He glared at her as she carefully navigated to the desk. While his attention was diverted, I double-checked the opposite roof. I could just make out Bryn at the ready.

“Are you alone?” I asked Ragerty.

“He’s alone.” Fenton poked his head into the room. So, he hadn’t gone far after all. Ragerty spat a string of curses at him. Fenton studied him, making sure Ragerty was well and truly not going anywhere. “Payment?”

“After this goes well,” Brí said. “Stand guard at the top of the stairs.”

Fenton moved to comply; he wouldn’t try to disobey in case the money disappeared.

“Now, then.” Brí turned her attention to Ragerty. “Where to begin?”

With my sword still pointed at him, Lou and Maya mirroring me, he laughed. “What could I possibly share with you? What value could I be?”

The ledger weighed heavy in my satchel. We could reveal what we’d found, see what we could get from him right away. But áine’s pointed look at my bag and the slight shake of her head were enough to go on. If the others had found anything downstairs, they didn’t let on, either. Perhaps we’d learn more if we let him choose the direction as much as possible. I was confident the numbers were incoming Exiles, but what else did he know?

“What value?” I opened the door, yanked the medallion off Fenton’s neck through his undignified protests, and showed it to Ragerty, unlatched. “I’d say this is pretty valuable.”

He scoffed. “That’s my sellsword’s.”

“He had to get it from somewhere. And from the way you didn’t flinch, either you gave it to him, or you have one just like it.” Or a ledger hidden in my bag marked with the same double swords.

He said nothing, but didn’t cower. I took that as confirmation—not that we needed any.

“We want to corroborate some information with you,” Brí said.

I kept my expression neutral. This was a surprise turn of events, no time to prepare how we were going to play this. For the sake of the mission, I was willing to see where Brí was going and play off it. Hopefully we could actually do this as a group and get out unscathed.

“These are desperate times,” Brí said. She picked up the letter opener I’d left on the desk. “I’m sure you understand.”

“I would if I knew what you were talking about.”

“Cut the bullshit,” I said. “We know you’re a rebel.”

Despite his eye twitching in displeasure, he sat straighter. Pride. Which meant he was a rebel, not an Exile.

“We know this is where the bulk of the Exiles are landing,” Lou said. “And we know their numbers are growing in the city. What’s their goal here?”

I bit my tongue, hard, avoiding looking at áine. Lou was close to what the ledger revealed. But it wasn’t everything; there were still details missing. And I’d placed the board back properly, hopefully making Ragerty believe we hadn’t found anything.

Still, his jaw tightened. He wasn’t going to hide his cues like we could. I’d read him like a book.

“You think I would tell you?” He spat on the floor.

“I think you’re going to,” áine said. She brought her favorite dagger to his throat faster than I could follow. His eyes widened, no longer feeling like the one in control.

I laughed. “Are all rebels this cowardly? First sign of trouble and they quiver.”

“I’d say it’s a shame,” Maya said. “But I like watching them squirm.”

“I doubt Balor would be happy to know his recruits lack backbones,” Lou added.

Brí smirked, letting us work. Maybe this was all it would take to dispel the rest of the awkwardness between us.

“You’d think he’d want a mighty army, not”—I waved my hand in Ragerty’s general vicinity—“ this .”

“Enough,” Brí said. The word should have been final, but a ghost of her grin stayed locked in place. “Let the man make a case for himself.”

áine stepped away, taking a spot beside Brí. She kept her dagger in hand, twirling the point against her finger.

“You call me a coward?” Ragerty raged. “The king is the coward. Sitting on his throne, untested, preferring his petitions and his pleas to the battlefield.”

I clenched my fists. I’d had enough of that line of bullshit.

“And your mighty Balor isn’t cowardly?” I let a bit of anger creep in. “Then where is he? If he’s so desperate to make a move, why hasn’t he?”

He grinned, spiderlike. “Who says he hasn’t.”

I stayed impassive at the implication, but inside, I shook.

“Don’t believe me?” He strained against the ropes. “He operates in the shadows. You have no idea what sort of moves he’s made.”

Maya raised her chin. “Do you? Or is this just spewed bullshit to try to catch us off guard?”

“The latter,” Lou said. “Definitely the latter.”

Ragerty sneered. “It doesn’t matter. Balor is the rightful ruler of Cunlaran.”

I rubbed my temples, tempted to point out how lineages worked. Though I supposed if you felt your family was robbed of a throne, any descendant might try to convince others that it should be theirs.

Brí gripped the edge of the desk like she’d pummel him without that anchor. I tried to catch her eye, warn her not to get heated—she, more than the rest of us, needed to stay calm when it came to criticisms of her brother. But she didn’t see me. “He has no claim—”

“Well, he should!” Spittle flew from Ragerty’s mouth as he looked at Brí more closely. “He’s mightier than that weakling in every possible way. He’s a visionary .”

I leaned toward him, forcing him to sit back. “And you’ve met him? What an honor that must have been.”

A flash of hurt darted across his face.

We could use that.

“You know absolutely nothing.” I patted his shoulder. “I feel sorry for you, actually.”

I made my way behind the chair and frowned at the group. We needed to find out if he had any Exile contacts, any valuable information beyond the ledger. If he didn’t, if he had nothing to give, then we didn’t need him.

“It’s a shame,” Maya said. “I wish Balor had given you something.”

“Of course he has!” More spittle. “I’m not of no value to him.”

“My apologies. But ‘not of no value’ isn’t exactly impressive.”

Brí still scowled. We made eye contact, and I shook my head. She nodded like she understood, but she remained tense. We needed her to cool down.

Lou sauntered forward, looking for all the world like they were about to share a juicy secret. “I’ve heard that Balor isn’t concentrating his forces in the north. That the Exiles here are a measly, inconsequential lot.”

Ragerty tensed, and I shot my gaze toward Lou. Another gamble, one we had precisely nothing to back up with. Ragerty should have laughed or told us how foolish Lou was, that there were plenty of powerful Exiles here. Something to open a window for us to gather more information.

A window was opening; I just wasn’t sure what it meant.

I dug my nails into Ragerty’s shoulders, wishing there was no fabric between us. “What?” When he didn’t respond, I circled to the front of the chair. “Talk. Now. Or my friend here uses her daggers and our lookout shoots.” Not that he needed to know I gave a fake signal through the window that Bryn wouldn’t act on.

“You wouldn’t,” he said.

áine whisked forward and slashed a blade across his cheek. Seeing the ploy, Bryn shot the wall behind me.

A long, sustained whistle followed. More potential hostiles were coming from down the street. We had to do this fast. No one moved, but the tension increased.

“Last chance,” I said.

He gulped, eyes wide once more. “There are Exiles here. In the north.” Wise man. “But there are more rebels than Exiles. And we aren’t told everything. But they’re not inconsequential ,” he spat at Lou. “We might not learn everything, but Balor tells us enough to know that for certain.”

What about the numbers I’d seen? If there were more rebels than Exiles in the north, how many rebels were there? Enough to form a sizable army?

Did Dàibhid have less support than we’d thought? Or was Ragerty lying?

There wasn’t enough time to get all the answers.

“Where is Balor?” Brí asked. She was calmer, but there was still a bite to her voice.

“He’s waiting for the right time to show himself. That’s all I know.”