Page 103 of Stormvein

“There will be chaos, I know.” Sacha finishes for him. “Which will not serve our purpose.”

“Where?” The question bursts out of me, and all eyes turn in my direction. “Where can you keep her? Everyone knows who she is. You can’t walk her through Stonehaven and lock her in a cell. People will ask questions. What will it do to them if they learn one of their most respected leaders betrayed you? That the person they trusted with their safety sold them out?”

“There’s a chamber beneath my quarters. Access through the back wall. It was designed for this kind of situation—holding someone the general inhabitants shouldn’t have access to.”

Of course there is. I should have known that he would have already thought about it. It’s how he’s survived for as long as he has, always three steps ahead of everyone else. The perfect predator, patient, and prepared.

“I’ll pick out guards we can trust. Fighters who were with us at Glassfall Gap,” Varam says. “Those who saw firsthand what her betrayal cost us.”

“Agreed.” Sacha moves toward Lisandra, who presses herself back against the wall. “But first, there is still information I need to know.”

The shadows around him swirl, becoming more substantial, responding to some unspoken command. Goosebumps rise along my arms.

“Varam, secure the outer chamber. Make sure no one interrupts us.” Sacha’s tone leaves no room for argument. “Ellie, stay. I may need your assistance.”

I blink, surprise overriding everything else. “What? Me?”

Varam hesitates for a second, then nods and moves to the door. The look he gives Lisandra contains a lifetime of betrayal. All those years of shared struggles, and sacrifice, all rendered meaningless by her choices. When the door closes behind him, the tension in the room increases.

“What are you going to do?” The words are barely more than a whisper.

“Whatever is necessary.”

He turns toward me, and for a moment I think I see something flicker beneath the hardness in his eyes. No doubt, never that, but awareness. Recognition that the path he’s choosing will have consequences. That I am witnessing this side of him, and that it matters to him what I see.

As the shadows continue to move around him, I wonder whatnecessarymeans to him now. What is he willing to sacrifice of himself for what he thinks is the greater good?

“Tell me about your contact.” His attention switches to Lisandra. “The one who carries your messages to Sereven.”

Her eyes dart to the door. The raven on Sacha’s shoulder tilts its head at this small movement, then parts its beak and lets out a sound. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard it make a noise, and it’s not the caw of a natural raven. It’s something deeper, darker, more chilling. A sound that seems to bypass the ears and sink directly into the soul. The sound of death itself. Lisandra turns white, her lips bloodless, her eyes wide with terror.

“His name is Merek.” She rubs at her arms where the dark vein-like patterns are still faintly visible. “He commands a small unit that patrols along the northeastern paths.”

“How do you contact him?”

“There’s a hollow tree at the fork in Stillwater Stream.” She talks quickly, desperate to answer his questions. “I leave a marker … a small stone with a red cross. His scouts check there daily.”

He nods. “And how do you receive his replies?”

“Same location, different signal. A broken arrow shaft left beneath the lowest branch. If urgent, the feathers are still attached.”

The exchange sounds like a simple conversation, but the tension in the room tells a different story. Shadows cling to Sacha, in constant motion as they move around his body, and Lisandra’s eyes keep darting to them as if expecting them to strike at any moment. Sweat beads her forehead despite the chill in the room. She’s answering readily, without any resistance at all. Whatever Sacha did to her before we arrived broke any defiance she had left.

“When did you last communicate with him?” His question comes with deceptive gentleness.

“This morning,” she admits after a second’s hesitation, her fingers working nervously at her sleeve. “As soon as word reached me of your return to Stonehaven.”

“And what did you tell him?” The question is delivered in a silky tone that sends my heartbeat into overdrive. Something about that soft voice is infinitely more terrifying than a shout could ever be.

Lisandra swallows, clearly feeling the same tension as me. “I told him that you’d been rescued, but you were dying. That the infection from your wounds was spreading despite all efforts tocombat it. That it was only a matter of days, maybe even hours, before you died.”

“And his response?” The raven shifts on his shoulder.

“That’s when I received the instructions to verify your condition, and bring proof to Blackstone Ridge.”

Sacha nods. “The captain … does he operate alone, or does he report to anyone?”

“Directly to Sereven.” Her voice steadies slightly as she provides factual information, a commander reporting to her superior, despite her fear. “He’s part of the High Commander’s personal guard, temporarily assigned to border patrol to maintain our arrangement. Handpicked for discretion.”