Shame flashed in Berron’s eyes. “So many of my memories are drenched in a haze. You know that. It’s why we meet so many times. To see if something you ask sparks a new memory.”
Janson’s expression softened. “Of course. My apologies, Berron.”
Berron glanced at Carver, unease crossing his face as he clearly remembered Carver was playing witness to this. His shoulders stiffened. “You mentioned the tattoo, and I saw the image in my mind.”
“What tattoo?” Janson asked. “Did the dealers have this tattoo?”
“No,” Berron said. “At least, not that I remember ever seeing.”
“Trevill’s tattoo was on his ribs,” Carver said, his heart beating faster. “If thesonnedealers had the same marks, maybe you just never saw theirs.”
“Maybe,” Berron allowed.
“I don’t understand,” Janson said, the lines in his forehead deepening as he frowned. “Chancellor Trevill had a symbol associated withsonnedealers tattooed on his body?”
“It’s not a symbol of thesonnetrade,” Carver said, staring at Berron’s drawing. This was proof the Brotherhood was involved in the drug trade. Hector had said they grew their wealth through illegal means, butsonne? That wasn’t what Carver had expected. It was a staggering revelation. And an infuriating one. Carver knew firsthand the destructionsonnecould wreak on a person. On a family. He looked at Janson. “You’ve never seen this symbol?”
“No,” the older man said. He looked a bit disturbed by that fact. “I’ve been researching these dealers for years, but I’ve never seen this marking.”
“You said it wasn’t their symbol,” Berron said, his gaze fixed on Carver.
He sighed. “No. It’s not.” He eyed the two men. Knew they deserved at least a partial answer—especially if he was going to enlist their help in finding the link between the Brotherhood and thesonnetrade. “It belongs to an elite group high in the emperor’s court. That’s why Trevill had it. Because of Berron, we now have confirmation this group is working with thesonnedealers in some capacity.”
Janson’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve long suspected thesonnetrade is supported by wealthy, influential people in the empire.”
“You have?”
The chancellor nodded, eagerness entering his gaze. “This symbol might be the link that finally offers me proof. What can you tell me about this group? Do you know who any of the members are?”
Carver hesitated. “I don’t have all the information. But I’ll secure a meeting between you and the person who can answer your questions. Maybe together, you can figure out who in the emperor’s court might be guilty of profiting off thesonnetrade.” It was probably too much to hope that one of Janson’s suspects would be the Brotherhood’s leader, but if Hector and Janson could work together, they might be able to find more suspects—and proof—of the Brotherhood’s crimes.
Berron frowned. “If Janson and I have learned anything, it’s that thesonnedealers are more powerful than anyone in the empire wants to contemplate.”
“Berron is right,” the chancellor said grimly. “Sonnehas made these ruthless criminals unspeakably wealthy. Their network is more vast and complex than you can imagine.” He tapped the symbol of the drawn hand. “And this confirms they have allies in powerful places.”
It also meant the Brotherhood had a dangerous network of criminals they could potentially weaponize.
Or hire as assassins.
Carver’s questions for Janson had just shifted focus. He met the man’s gaze. “Tell me everything you can about thesonnedealers. Especially their operation in Zagrev.”
Chapter 53
Amryn
Ithadbeenoneweek since Ivan was attacked in the garden. Amryn had gone to visit him right after the assassination attempt. She had found him a little paler than usual, but he was sitting up in his bed and insisting he was fine with all the gruffness she would have expected. She had sensed his exhaustion—an effect of the poison, no doubt—but his annoyance was stronger.
Apparently, Ivan Baranov did not like to be fussed over.
“I am fine,il mishka,” he had repeated firmly when she offered to get him food or water. He kept fidgeting with his bandage, his irritation spiking. That’s when she realized he was less annoyed with his forced convalescence, and more irritated by the fact one of the assassins had managed to land a blow.
Amryn had done her best to distract him, but it wasn’t long before Elowen arrived.
Carver’s sister immediately rushed to Ivan’s bed, her anxiety flaring. Her hands fluttered above him, not quite landing. As if afraid her touch would cause him pain. “Are you all right? My father just told me what happened. How badly does it hurt? What can I do? Is there—?”
“Hush.” Ivan took her hand, squeezing gently. “Take a breath, Elowen. I am well—”
“Well?” She clutched his hand with both of hers. “You were stabbed!”
