Page 4

The only inroad into Caldien that the Kirythean Empire had ever almost made was through the Ourish Pass in the mountains.

That was due, in large part, to Finn Lucais.

He’d been an outlaw then, back when Ouran was the Emperor of Kirythea and slowly conquering the whole continent.

Finn’s crew had targeted mostly Kirythean ships, and they’d done such a good job at it that the ships had never made it to the Caldienan shore, leaving Ouran stranded at the pass without reinforcements or supplies.

After the battle, Finn had been pardoned on all charges of piracy and made an honorary officer.

By all counts, the rest of the navy loved him.

The way he managed to leak charisma even in this tiny room with a tired, hostile audience made it easy to see why.

But Gabe had little patience for charisma, and he was across the small room with his hand on Finn’s throat in two strides.

“Our bloodcoat problem?” he said, sneering. “Currently, we don’t have one, but I assume you’re here to make one if we don’t pay up?”

“Gabriel!” Malcolm shouted, standing so quickly his chair toppled over. “Hear him out—”

“Fuck that,” Gabe snarled, but the low words were nearly drowned by Finn’s chuckle.

The fact that the man chuckled when Gabe was seconds away from crushing his windpipe just made his fingers tighten.

“While we can certainly discuss payment,” Finn wheezed, “I was actually thinking more along the lines of getting you under the Prime Minister’s protection.”

Gabe’s hand relaxed by increments. If looks could kill, Malcolm’s glare would be a bullet, and Michal and Val both looked less than pleased with him, too. With a stormy frown, he stepped back and crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

Finn grinned and made a show of straightening his pristine shirt.

“In the course of my service to Caldien, the Prime Minister became my lover. Pillow talk suggestions tend to go over fairly easy. Though I’m not surprised you don’t know that, given your station.

” He cocked his head. “I’ve heard interesting rumors in that regard. ”

Gabe had never been one to play the subtle insult game. He sat heavily in one of the chairs at the table.

“Finn,” Malcolm said, rubbing wearily at his eyes. “If you could tell Gabe what you told me, please? I know he’s an ass. We’re working on it.”

“Oh, don’t try to fix it.” Finn flopped in another chair, still grinning. “I like it.”

“Gods dead and dying,” Val muttered.

“Now.” Finn knit his long, pale fingers together and set them on top of a stack of rent records.

Nearly every finger wore a ring, the most ostentatious an emerald glinting on his thumb.

“Eoin—the Prime Minister—was an ally to King August, but ever since his son took the throne, he’s been… rethinking some things.”

Gabe’s jaw clenched. Malcolm sent him a warning look. “And why is that?”

“Mostly, the new King’s strict attitude about religion.”

“I thought Caldien wasn’t religious?” Michal said. “So why would they care?”

“We aren’t, at least not compared with Auverraine. But that doesn’t mean Eoin isn’t fascinated by the gods,” Finn continued. “He and a handful of others are very invested in… alternative paths, I suppose you could say.”

“So he doesn’t like Apollius,” Gabe said bluntly.

Finn tipped his head. “I wouldn’t say he doesn’t like Him. Just that he’s skeptical, and more interested in the rest of the pantheon. Which the new King in Auverraine doesn’t much appreciate.”

Across the table, Malcolm stared intently at Gabe, as if compelling him to listen closely.

“He’s particularly taken with the elemental gods,” Finn concluded.

Gabe kept his face composed, though his hand twitched. Going further down that path would raise questions he didn’t want to answer; he changed subjects. “And how, exactly, does this information help with our bloodcoat problem?”

“They’re looking for you.” Finn sat back, tapped one of those rings on a watery ink-bloom in a neglected ledger. “Reportedly because you have the same fascination.”

That was one way to put it.

“At this juncture,” Finn continued, “I believe if you asked Eoin for religious asylum, he’d be inclined to give it to you.”

Gabe and Malcolm slid each other calculating looks across the desk.

Their entire escape here had been predicated on finding help to stop Apollius, to warn Caldien that Auverraine would invade sooner or later.

If they could get an audience with the Prime Minister, warn him while ensuring his protection…

“Why are you helping us?” Val asked, still glowering by the door. “How did you even know we needed help?”

“Like I said, I’ve heard interesting rumors about this one.” Finn gestured to Gabe. “The eye patch and palm tattoos are rather distinctive. He matches a description that should be making its way around town soon, once Auverraine officially puts out warrants for your arrest.”

A frisson of dread coursed around the room, straightening every spine.

“Eoin’s protection would keep you from being extradited,” Finn said. “And it seems you’re going to need it.”

“So what do we do?” Michal’s voice was quiet, his eyes wide. He was no stranger to running away from the law, but the prospect of the law catching up made him sound half strangled. “To get his protection?”

“I can take you there.” Finn shrugged. “Probably only two of you, to be safe.” He gestured to Gabe and then Malcolm. “You two would be sufficient. You could petition for everyone in your party.”

“When?” Gabe asked.

“Let’s say tomorrow night.” Finn stood and stretched, as if all this talking had put an ache in his back. “I’ll knock four times. That’s your signal.” He grinned. “Wear something with a hood.”

Then he left, strolling out the door as if on his way to a party.

They all sat in silence, waiting to hear his footsteps recede. “Well,” Val said. “That’s suspicious. I can’t be the only person who finds that suspicious?”

“You aren’t,” Gabe replied. “But it seems we have little choice. We’ll meet him.”

“And if he’s lying?” Michal asked.

Gabe sighed. “Then at least it’s only two of us. The rest of you, run.”

Michal reached over and grabbed Malcolm’s hand. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, you won’t,” Malcolm said, though he didn’t remove the other man’s hand. “Worst case, it’ll be blackmail. Gabe and I can handle that.”

Gabe’s fingertips warmed. Oh yes, he could handle that.

“If we aren’t back by the next morning,” Malcolm continued, looking to Val, “you, Michal, and Mari take the ship.”

Val’s lips were a bloodless line, but she nodded.

And that was that.

A book sat on the desk, one smuggled to Malcolm from the library at Farramark University. Gabe jerked his chin toward it, eager to change the subject. “Find anything in there?”

“Possibly.” Malcolm waved his hand at the notes. “Something about pieces of the Fount, bringing them back together. Could be something, could be nothing.”

That singed scent was in Gabe’s nostrils again. He eyed Malcolm’s notes, flames flickering at the edges—three pieces, marked with a moon and a sun and elemental carvings. Hidden, the notes said, both in plain sight and in deep places…

“I need a drink,” Malcolm murmured.

Gabe shut the book, closing the notes inside. “On that, we agree. Come on; if there’s one thing this city has, it’s an abundance of taverns.”