“If you have enough, why would you keep thieving?”
Maven looks at me sorrowfully. “And there it is. Your heart was never really in this. You got into thieving out of proximity or necessity, but there’s no joy in it for you, no professional satisfaction. You turn down good jobs just because they don’t fit your personal code of ethics. I used to respect that about you, but now it’s just frustrating. We want different things. Scriv has a vision—”
“Oh, Scriv has a vision?” I exclaim bitterly. “A vision to turn you all into bounty hunters and murderers who steal from everyone, rather than those who deserve to lose their wealth?”
“He won’t hold us back out of some goddamned annoying sense of moral superiority.” Maven is nearly shouting now.
“So I hold you back? Good to know. I guess all those times when you acted like a real friend, you were just putting up with me? Sucking up to the boss?” Tears are burning in my eyes, and my voice is just as loud as hers.
“You were a friend,” she says. “But you drove me crazy. You don’t ever let loose. You’ll never reach your full potential, and I won’t let you restrict my future. We’re not your crew anymore, Devilry. Scriv is our new leader. We’re done. You’re on your own.”
“Not entirely on your own.” Flex smirks, inspecting his nails. “You’ve got Candle. And whoever that is.” He nods to Ravager.
I turn to Boulder, desperate. He’s got his great arms crossed and he’s looking at Scriv. When Scriv gives him a nod, Boulder opens his arms—and like a fool, I move between them, thinking he’s giving me a hug until his grip tightens almost painfully. He’s restraining me.
“What are you doing?” I gasp. “Boulder—Maven—”
Scriv walks casually over to me, pulls down my chin, and stuffs his handkerchief into my mouth. I try not to think about what that handkerchief has been used for.
“Tie her up good,” he says to Flex. “Then we need to get all of this packed up so we can go. I don’t know about you three, but I’ve had enough of Faerie and its fucking magic.”
“I say we leave the old boss here,” Flex suggests. “Pay her back for the hours of mental torture we endured. I suffered untold trauma while I was trapped in that nothingness. It was so dreadfully boring.”
Scriv turns to Maven, his voice gentle. “I’ll let you decide what we do with her.”
Maven looks at me, a touch of uncertainty in her gaze. Pride won’t let me beg for mercy, not even with my eyes. I keep my gaze hard, unyielding.
“She could be dangerous to us. To you, Maven,” Scriv says quietly.
Does she not understand that the change in his tone is calculated? That he’s pretending to give her a choice, when he’s really manipulating her into doing exactly what he wants?
Maven squares her shoulders, her face grim. “We leave her behind. Let the Stewards deal with her. I’m sure they’ll treat her fairly.”
Not likely, given what I’ve done to this place.
With Boulder’s help, Flex removes my pack and makes quick work of tying my wrists and ankles. It’s no use struggling against Boulder, even if I had the heart to do so, which I don’t.
“We might have a problem,” says Maven, looking up from her inspection of my pack’s contents. “The Doras Álainn isn’t here.”
“What?” Flex exclaims, panic tightening his features. “Where is it? Was it destroyed? Are we stuck here?”
“It’s got to be in the fortress,” Maven says, eyeing me. “She must have hidden it for some reason. Maybe she realized she was running out of time before our return, and she wanted leverage against us.”
“Where is it, Devilry?” asks Scriv.
I stare at him silently, arching a brow. He rolls his eyes and takes the handkerchief out of my mouth.
“Tell us what happened to the Doras Álainn,” he says. “Don’t make us hurt you.”
“I’m going home.” Flex’s voice holds barely suppressed panic. “I’m going home. I don’t care if I have to torture it out of you, Devilry. I’m done, do you hear me? Done.”
“All right, Flex.” Scriv pats his shoulder. “Let me handle this.”
“Make her tell you!”
“I will, Flex, I will.” Scriv grabs my jaw. “Answer the man, Devilry. Where is it?”
I wrench my chin from his grasp and look up at Boulder. “Are you really going to hold me still while they hurt me?”
