But then he says nothing.
Olive takes a step closer to him. “If you need her house, Rian, just say so.”
I whip my head around. “What?”
“It’s obvious that’s why he’s here. We’re on the outcropping, and it’s easily defensible. It keeps most of the island out of the line of cannon fire, too. If he stages this ‘prison’ at your house, they could surround Oren’s ship in the cove and trap him without a problem.”
Behind Rian, Sablo taps his chest, then nods. Gwyn says, “Plenty of trees for hiding, too.”
Rian looks between all of them, then lets out a breath. He looks down at the parchment he was holding, then carefully folds it up and slips it back into his saddlebag.
“Yes,” he says slowly, letting out a breath. “I want your house.” He looks at Olive, and his voice drips with sarcasm. “And I’ll need a decoy. Interested, Livvy?”
“Why don’t you get one of your sycophants.” She raises her eyebrows at the people behind him. “Are you busy, Gwyn?”
“I’ll be busy taking care of Oren.”
My heart trips and stumbles in my chest. “I’ll do it,” I say.
“Tessa!” says Olive.
Rian startles, too. “What? No.”
“Why not?” I demand. “I’m the right age. I can’t fight, but I can sit and look like a prisoner.”
“Absolutely not.”
Olive grabs my hand. Her eyes are piercing. “Tessa. You don’t know what he’s like. What he’s done.”
I look right back at her. “I do know what he’s done.” I turn my head and look at Sablo, who’s missing a tongue. My eyes flick to Gwyn, whose little Anya was tortured. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about what he’s done.”
“This isn’t why I came,” Rian snaps.
“We don’t need a decoy for Oren,” says Gwyn. “We just need a location so we can lay a trap.”
“You don’t?” I demand. “You think he won’t send a scout to make sure you really have a prisoner? You haveonechance to get him, and you’re not going to lay the most perfect trap you can?”
Rian is glaring at me, but that gets him. A muscle twitches in his jaw. “I don’t need you. I have my own people.”
“Why risk one of your own people?” I demand. “If I die, you lose nothing.”
“And if I succeed?” he says. “You clearly want something.”
“Yes,” I say. “I want passage back to Kandala. If Oren is out of the way, there’s nothing stopping you.”
He considers this for a minute. Then he nods. “Done. I’ll arrange it. Miss Cade, we’ll see you in two days at dawn. Be ready.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Harristan
It’s nightfall again, and I have more questions than I started the day with. I should be focusing on all the lies about colluding with Ostriary, but instead I’m fixated on the fact that consuls watched me send my brother off on a ship to fetch more medicine—and then they sent warships after him.
“You need to eat,” Quint says quietly. He’s sitting at the table with me, just like last night, and once again, loss and worry and heady emotion are filling the air.
Alice delivered stew half an hour ago, but I haven’t touched it.
I stare into the bowl, at the congealing mass of beef and vegetables that have long since stopped steaming. I don’t want to touch any of it. I push the bowl away.
