But my mind was still in Calimber.
Warships.Warships.Three of them, nearly complete.
What are you doing, Renwell? What do you really want?
No doubt Aiden, Nikella, and the rest of them were already planning on how to destroy my old mentor. Without me. And why would they want me nearby? I was a traitor.
Which was why my time in Dagriel would be short. As soon as I’d rested, I’d beg for a horse and some supplies and make my way back to Rellmira.
Aiden could play at war. And I truly hoped he could defeat Renwell. But I hated to think of Everett and Delysia caught up in whatever Renwell was planning. Seeing his warships and nearly being killed by one was enough to give me the good sense Nikella had mentioned.
Revenge would have to wait.
I needed to sneak into Aquinon, disguised somehow. Perhaps I could use the tunnel toThe Silk Dancer, where, if my luck held, Melaena would keep me hidden. Then it was just a simple matter of bribing my way through the bridge gate with money I didn’t have and infiltrating a palace filled with Wolves.
I sneered at myself.
Even if I succeeded, the best way to reach my siblings would be through the many secret passageways in the palace, but Renwell surely knew about most of them.
Then we’d have to sneak back out.
My chest tightened with apprehension, and I rubbed it.
“You didn’t come back to visit me.”
I jolted as Maz joined me at the railing, his gaze fixed on the growing smudge that was his homeland.
He looked more like a Dag than I’d ever seen him. He wore a thick fur vest, flaunting his muscular, tattooed arms. His fur-trimmed pants were tucked into similar boots. His golden hair and full beard were longer now, giving him more of the wild look of the other Dags.
“I didn’t think I was welcome to.” I darted a glance behind him to see if one—or all—of his sisters were on his tail. “Should you be out of the infirmary?”
His lips twitched in a frown. “I refuse to arrive back home for the first time in years confined to a cot with my shame on display.”
My forehead pinched. “Oh, Maz, I’m so s?—”
“I don’t need your apologies,” he said brusquely. “We’ve all got things to atone for.” He looked down at me, a slight quirk of his mouth belying the hardness in his eyes. “I’d prefer you tell me a story. A true one.”
I nodded. “What would you like to hear about?”
“Tell me of your brother and sister—Everett and Delysia, was it?”
My eyes burned, and I faced Dagriel to hide the sudden emotion. No one else had asked me about them. No one else seemed to care about them. And for the first time, I could tell someone the truth as their sister, not their fake personal guard.
“Thank you,” I whispered to the wind. Maz dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Delysia is my younger sister. She’s beautiful, like our mother was. Everett is more serious and looks more like... well... he looks like himself. He loves our library and studying, but Delysia never cared for it much.” I smiled. “One time, Delysia got me to play a trick on Everett...”
I talked and talked, the words coming easier than they had in days. Happy words. Hopeful words. No scheming or double talking. No agenda.
It struck me then that I was never cut out to be a spy. The waiting, the lies, the loneliness, the regrets. I never wanted it, and I was glad to strip that part of myself away and leave it behind.
I still wanted justice. I still sought the truth. But I no longer wanted to do so from the shadows.
Gods only knew if I’d ever get that chance.
Maz listened, leaning his forearms on the railing, chuckling during some parts, asking questions in others. All out of seemingly innocent curiosity.
Then he mentioned my mother.
“I met Brielle a few times,” he said, staring at a place beyond the ship’s bow I couldn’t see. “She was lovely, a warrior in silk.”
