I was frozen, a statue. I couldn’t look at Llir. I didn’t want to hear what the twins would say next, but I was pinned to the doorway by the Shearwaters’ stares.
“Believe me,” said Avrix with a strangely sad smile, “I know how much of a shock this must be.”
“Especially for you, Vercha,” his sister continued. “So much time, so mucheffort, put into your little protégée here. I remember your telling me what an asset she’d been.”
I chanced a glance at Vercha, who was standing stock-still. She was looking at Morgen, face bleached, brows pinched.
“Speak plainly,” Rexim barked at the twins. His hair was sleep tousled, but he looked sharp, alert. He’d pulled on a laconite-studded doublet, one I recognized; one Avrix had surely tampered with. Though he had no weapon, his hand hovered at scabbard height. “What does the Floodmouth have to do with this?”
“Why, she’s a little baby cuckoo, of course,” said Morgen. “Bedded down right here in your nest. An informant for the Cage. And, lately, a saboteur.”
Avrix. He’d told his sister everything.
“The Cage,” repeated Rexim, shaking his head. “It’s Crake who’s coming down that causeway. So I say again:Speak plainly.”
“As you wish,” said Avrix irritably. His aim hadn’t faltered; his finger stroked the trigger. “Your little cuckoo here has been spying for the Cage, preparing the way for a visit they’ve been planning. Don’t know all the details, but I know she’s been digging…ferreting out all your dirty little secrets, probably so her conspirators could use them against you.”
Heads whipped around. Sharp gazes fell on me. Had Catua noticed her Charter was missing? Was Llir thinking of when he and Tigo had caught me?
“As for what they were going to do—likely something drawn out and painful. Something to do with your winning the vote, which won’t be happening now, of course.” He cocked his head. “You know, we’ve actuallysavedyou all…”
“No.”
I’d spoken—it shocked me as much as them.
“No, you don’t understand,” I forced out. “They weren’t going to be violent. At least, not unless they really had to.” It was Crake who’d brought the army, not the Cage. I so wanted to believe the words I was uttering. “They were going to try to persuade—to bargain—”
“You,” Rexim spat. His voice was poison. He raised a finger, pointed it at my face. “Be silent. You don’t get to speak.”
In my peripheral vision, I saw Llir staring, but I still couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes.
“You say you saved us?” Emment said to Avrix. His skin was grayish, his eyes unnaturally wide. “You’ll have to explain that one to me.Friend.”
“From the shame of being yet another Cage casualty.” Avrix was smiling, gaze still locked on Rexim. “Far more noble to go down to House Crake.”
“But why?” Catua hissed. “You still haven’t told us why.”
The smile on Avrix’s face turned pained. “Little Cattie. We don’t relish having to do this, you know. Our families have been allies—friends—for decades. But that friendship has rarely borne fruit for us. All those years, and what have we Cormorants received? What gifts? What patronage? What buoying up, even, in the wake of the growing power, the growing popularity, the growingsuccessof the mighty Shearwaters?” He shook his head sadly. “I tell you: nothing.”
“That’s a lie—” Rexim tried to cut in, but Avrix spoke louder, intoning over him.
“Nothing.And so when Uirbrig Crake, boor though he is”—Avrix winced slightly—“made us a very generous offer, it was hard to refuse. And I’m sorry for that.”
“Like hells you are,” Emment growled in response. He looked unsteady, reckless in his tipsiness.
“Father’s going to win the Seat.” Catua’s voice was a blade’s edge. “Then you’ll get therewardsyou seek.”
Morgen laughed, high and clear. “Oh, no, I don’t think so, my dear. Your little cuckoo has seen your accounts. Daddy’s extra income will pay off his debts, save him from the shame of having to sell off your heirlooms, but there’ll hardly be any left over forfriends.”
The family turned their eyes on me again. Rexim’s lips were twisted at the corners, bitter and knowing. My face burned crimson.
I’d not slept for nearly a full day and night, and with all the wine that had flowed after the play, my mind was sluggish, like the streams out on the flats. But my shock was subsiding, leaving shivers in its wake. I thought back to Avrix’s story, the night of the ball. All lies, of course. My skin prickled shamefully as I wracked my memory. HadImentioned the Cage first or had he? I’d just assumed…
And before that, when we’d met in the culverhouse. He hadn’t been sending a message to the Cage. He’d been contacting Crake.
I’d been so stupid.
Distant shouts. I turned, glanced behind me. By the sound of it, the Crakes were at the gatehouse already.
