“I check on him personally.” Deneya got the harsh, final word.
“Who is ‘he’?” Eira asked, reminding them she was present and still new enough to not have all the details.
“The man who murdered my kin and scarred my face. The former head of the Swords of Light, Ulvarth.” Ducot took a step forward. “I saw him that day and the description matches him perfectly.”
“And maybe it’s someone using his name and face,” Lorn countered sharply. “Ulvarth is no longer a concern.”
“Wasn’t Ulvarth imprisoned for killing the last Voice and extinguishing the Flame of Yargen?” Eira asked, seeing if her memory served her. Ducot nodded. “And that he claimed he was the Champion of Yargen come again?”
“Exactly, so—”
“So why can’t it be him?” Eira looked from Ducot to the Specters. “Surely, all this can’t just be coincidence? How can he not be a concern?”
“He had high enough friends to keep him off the executioner’s block.” Ducot pointed to the ground. “Because of him, the Pillars were spawned in the first place. Of course he would be the one to lead them. He must be—”
“Ulvarth isdead,” Deneya blurted suddenly, ungraceful compared to her usual tactfulness. The word seemed to echo in the cavernous space. Ducot staggered backward, as though he’d been struck by it.
“You…he…”
“I killed him myself and disposed of the body,” Deneya finished, glancing back at the table, as though she were talking about the weather.
Ducot looked between Lorn and Rebec. Neither of the other Specters seemed surprised in the slightest. His attention landed solely on Rebec. “You…you knew.”
“It is one of the most closely guarded secrets of Meru. If word of Ulvarth’s death got out—especially given that it would be considered an unjust murder under Lumeria’s imprisonment—it would only spur the Pillars on more,” Rebec said. “It could cause others to flock to them.”
“Unjust?” Ducot’s voice rose. “He… He murdered babes in their bed. He slaughtered the last Voice.”
“And yet the mereideaof him unjustly imprisoned spurred zealots to action,” Deneya said with disgust. “Just think of what the Pillars would do if they found out he’d been made a martyr.” She listlessly moved the tokens spread about the map of Risen. “Yet, we also couldn’t leave him as a loose end.”
“Unless they did find out,” Eira said softly. All eyes were on her. “A Champion chosen by the goddess’s hand is a powerful motivator, a martyr of said Champion even more so… Just think of how it might embolden and empower them if they think they have a Champion martyred and reborn?”
“You don’t think…” Rebec whispered, looking between Eira and Deneya.
“You said it yourself, the leader of the Pillars might be someone masquerading as Ulvarth.” Eira kept her focus on Deneya, whose usually guarded expression was crumbling.
“Damn it all.” Deneya cursed several times under her breath and looked away.
There was a long and heavy silence. All eyes were on the Head Specter, who was now hunched over the table. Eira could feel the grief and hesitation unfurling like dark wings from Deneya’s shoulders.
“What are your orders?” Lorn finally said.
Deneya took a deep breath. “We get Eira to the Archives and she finds something that they might believe has this conversation they’re looking for. We follow the Pillars every movement, as they follow her. We use the information Eira has given to us to guide our shadows and see if we can smoke them out before the gala. And we gather our forces in case we can’t. Lumeria will announce the pre-tournament ball tomorrow and the Pillars will not be the only ones who will attend ready for battle.”
21
Her eyelids were drooping by the time she returned to the manor. Ducot had other business to attend to, so he’d led her to the main tunnel and trusted her to find her way back. Eira decided to take it as a good sign—that he trusted her to do that much still. The secret passage clicked shut behind her and Eira released the illusion she’d summoned.
The moon hung low in the sky and the shadows were long as she dragged her tired feet across the plush carpets back toward her room. She would get a few hours of sleep, and then wake as refreshed as she could be to start the training Ducot had mentioned the competitors were going to begin engaging in. The city thought everything was fine. Lumeria couldn’t keep things locked down forever without arousing too much suspicion. And Adela hadn’t been sighted again…
Eira was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the shadowed figure, still as a statue, until he stood from the sofa.
She spun, heart racing. A dagger of ice was in her palm, more magic tangling in her free fingers. A breeze pushed lightly against her hand, holding back the dagger like an invisible palm before she could swing. The man came into focus.
“Cullen?” Eira breathed.
“Sorry for startling you, but I didn’t want to wake up everyone by announcing myself,” he whispered, barely audible. His eyes held an intensity she hadn’t seen from him before, brow slightly furrowed, lips pursed. “Let’s step into your room?”
Eira gave a small nod and led the way. As she banished the dagger into the air, he closed the door. Cullen stood, back to her, shoulders pulled up to his ears.
