“What of it?” I repeated, furrowing my brow in worry. “It has everything to do with this. They say Seraphim lives. You do know how she survived her exile, yes?”
“Foolish hearsay,” Maera said in a clipped tone. “By all accounts, she was sent to the Empty and perished.”
“Word reached me yesterday,” Phaedrus announced. “Therapne’s clergy names Seraphim the Bloodstone’s thief. It isnothearsay.”
Seraphim glanced at me, picking up on my course. “Rumors swirl about her return. Some whisper she fled across the Lethe. No one’s sighted her in twenty years, after all.” Her face twisted in anger. “I wasn’t present at the exile. I cannot confirm if they ensured her demise. If they hid that she escaped. . .”
“They might well have,” Phaedrus said quietly. “To save themselves from a severe punishment.”
Lord Crios caught on. “Are you suggesting she will take the stolen Bloodstonebackto Duath Nun?”
“What if she does?” I said. “If we do not send someone after her, the Bloodstone will be lost forever.”
Lady Maera sat back, and silence hung over the table. Eleos spoke in my mind. “That did it.”
Placing a hand on the table, Lord Lycus studied Seraphim. “In that case, you would need a capable unit sent with you.”
“Arrangements have already been made,” Phaedrus assured him. “I would not send my sister without proper protection.”
“Let me offer some of my men. You’ll need mages if you expect to face a chthonic.”
“Thank you, Lycus.” Phaedrus nodded. “But your support won’t matter if the rest let the thief slip away. Tell me. What do you think the church will say when they learn the border lords neglected their duty?”
Lady Maera drummed her fingers on the table. “If the thief took shelter in Duath Nun and seeks it again, does that not suggest they feed her orders?”
“We don’t know.” Lord Crios said. “They might be oblivious to her presence. Or, they seek the Bloodstone to save themselves.”
“And condemn us,” Seraphim agreed, speaking with unusual gravity. “Be they friend or foe, wemustknow.”
“Very well.” Lady Maera sat back. “I agree. Circumstances require haste. But the ship must be fully prepared to face whatever threat. We will not receive another chance.”
“Agreed.” Crios nodded. “My key is yours, on the condition I examine the crew before they depart.”
“Of course.” Phaedrus agreed, eyes drifting to the youngest of their group.
Glancing between his fellows, Kasos cleared his throat. “You’re absolutely right, of course. We should give chase. The crown will be positively thrilled should we solve their problems for them.”
Relieved, I stepped back. Eleos’s voice hummed in my mind. “Shame. I was almost looking forward to planning that heist.”
With my part finished, I joined Eleos on the bench, watching the lords rise to do what had not been done in a century.
Each had brought with them a small chest. Within rested a remarkably ordinary-looking key, bronzed by age—one for each of the five padlocks preventing the ships’ anchor from being raised.
Phaedrus collected the keys, adding them to his chest. A sense of finality coursed through me when he closed the lid. This is what Seraphim had hired me for.
The ship was ours. And before the lords realized our falsity, we’d be sailing across the border in the only vessel fit to weather the Lethe.
* * *
Night had fallen before the border lords departed the manor. Lord Phaedrus had cracked open his most valuable bottle of wine to celebrate the occasion, a gift that snapped Percy and Seth out of their annoyance at being shoved in the attic all day.
Swirling my wine, I stared into its rich ruby depths. One last sip of luxury before we set out for lands unknown.
Eleos sat beside me at the dining table, paying more attention to his hair than his food. Though we’d washed off our disguises, he was adamant that lingering traces of Percy’s ‘wretched oil’ remained in his hair. I reached out to brush out his bangs, but retracted my hand.
We’d talk tonight.
“Hm.” Seth reclined in his seat. “I’m a bit disappointed, honestly. Breaking into four separate manors sounded fun.”
