With a nod, my brother accepted a dagger, adding it to his own belt. “Still, we do this in the shadows.”
“Agreed.” As few folk as possible would know the wretched, brutal things I planned to do tonight.
Von and Aleksi were crouched beside one heavy cask, me and Sander at the other. Even without mesmer, Von had lived with the fiercest Elixist in the kingdom since boyhood. He was the best at handling tricky paralytics and the masking powders we’d wiped over our features.
For the better part of two clock tolls, anyone who did not know the powders were there, would see our faces as someone else.
Aleksi joined. He was a Rave, and reasoned this was a threat to all the realms. In truth, I thought our warrior prince had a villainous side he hid beneath duty and honor.
“That’s the room.” Sander used the hilt of his dagger, pointing at a window above a crooked, weathered dock house workers rented out through trade seasons.
I made certain my hood was in place, nodded to the others, then slipped into the night.
Air was thick with cool brine from night winds off the sea, and torches still lit along the roads layered the corners in dancing shadows. I kept low and slipped into a narrow alley. Sander did the same, but took a wider route. Von scaled the wall of the dock house, crouched on the rooftop. Aleksi danced between posts and crates lying in wait to be loaded on the barges and ships.
A coo, like the call of a dove, signaled us overhead. Von dropped a rope over the ledge of the roof.
I coiled the rope around my wrist. “No feet on the sides.”
I made the climb first, careful not to touch my boots to the thin walls of the dock house. The risk of rousing anyone from sleep by the plod of feet on the outer walls was too great, but damn torture for the arms.
When I reached the window, I leveraged onto the sill, balancing my toes enough I could cling to the rope, but reach the lock on the edge. From a notch inside the leather of my belt, I freed a whalebone shard and hook pick.
My mother taught me how to properly use a lockpick by the time I was four turns, the motion was practically rote by now, but I would never tire of the satisfying click when levers and notches shifted.
With a quick tug on the rope, I carefully glided the window pane up. Movements were soundless, feather soft, as I maneuvered into the small room. Furnished in a simple bed, wooden chair, and a shade for dressing, there was little place to hide.
I didn’t.
I took my place at the foot of the bed, watching the rise and fall of Cian’s chest.
Bastard made a piss poor move stepping foot in this kingdom.
With similar silence, Aleksi and Sander slipped into the room. Von made his way down soon after cutting the rope. Even with his careful moves, scaling the side of the dock house he knocked the walls more than once.
Cian groaned, rousing a bit from the noise. Let him. I took out adagger from the sheath on the small of my back by the time Von slipped inside the room and closed the window at our backs.
When the elven’s lashes fluttered open, I was on him.
Before he could jolt or scream, my palm clapped over his mouth, the dagger pressed against his throat. His eyes were a dark blue, like most Dokkalfar, but they did not have the same shine as Skadi’s, like the darkness of his bleeding soul dimmed the shade.
Cian tried to buck me off, tried to thrash, but he went stiff after a few breaths.
Aleksi had his palms out. He lived with the Night Folk, but Alek was a glamour fae with a gift of summoning anything with a beating heart. If Aleksi Bror-Ferus wanted someone—creature or man—to remain in place, they would not be able to move until he released his hold on their blood.
I tossed back my hood. Cian looked befuddled for a moment. The masking powders, no doubt, would make this all rather confusing.
“Hello, Cian. I look different I’m sure.” I added a little more pressure to the edge of my blade. “But since you know my wife, I thought it was long overdue for us to get better acquainted.”
He tried to kick, but when his body would not move, he cried out, muffled under my palm.
“I’m feeling like you might not want the same.” I sighed, closing my eyes for a drawn breath until the force of mesmer chilled the whites. Cian let out a longer shout under my hand when I opened my eyes, blackened like the darkest corners of the room. “Pity. We could’ve been such great friends.”
I lifted my hand only long enough to strike his face, then covered his shouts again and lowered my voice. “Except for trying to separate me from her.” Another strike to the other cheek. I covered his nose and mouth and pressed my knee to his chest. “Except for the torture she endured under your watch, your lies, and your hands.”
I pulled back the dagger, but in a way that would slash into his skin. Not fatal, only enough to draw blood. I didn’t want him dead.
Not yet.
