A tightness in my chest seems to ease and tighten simultaneously. “So they’re with your king.”
“The letter didn’t specify, but it would stand to reason that they are. I have a skiff departing at dawn tomorrow.” He moves to his desk and pulls a slip of parchment from a drawer, followed by an ink pen. “I’ll send word at once that you’ve survived—”
“No,” I say.
He stops short and draws himself up. “No?”
“Your king lied about his identity and tricked me intojourneying to Ostriary. I have no interest in escaping one man’s manipulation and being traded for another’s.”
All three of them exchange a glance. “Manipulation?” says Edward.
“Did Kandala not agree to barter for steel?” says Penny.
But Ford’s gaze is more appraising. “Does this have anything to do with why you were ready to cut my throat upon arrival?”
“Quite a lot,” Lochlan says dryly.
“The only reason we survived was because Oren Crane’s people fished us out of the water,” I say, and Penny gasps. Her hand goes to the burn scars at her neck.
“He’s kept us prisoner until dawn yesterday,” I say. “We convinced him to let us go temporarily. He believes Lochlan is a Kandalan spy and I am an assassin. He gave us a task to prove our roles, because he believes we want vengeance against Rian for letting Prince Corrick die. But he expects us back at dawn.” I pause, studying Ford across the table. “And I’m not sure how he’ll proceed once it becomes clear that we did not succeed.”
He studies me right back, and his eyes are piercing. “So you’ve aligned yourself with Oren Crane?”
“I’m trying to stay alive until I can find a way to bring my people back to Kandala, Master Cheeke.”
“What was your task?” says Edward.
Before I can answer, Ford does it for me. “To kill me.”
I nod. “He believes you have a secret way to pass messages to your king.”
Ford gives a little humorless laugh. “Secret.I suppose to a man like Oren, the matter of detail and precision might seem like a secret. Everything that passes through this harbor is weighed and measured and recorded in this office. Every letter, every parcel,every piece of freight. The sender, the receiver, the weight. I and my people are known for our accuracy, Your Highness.” He gestures toward the hallway. “If you wanted to, you could find the details for a pallet of firewood shipped to Roshan ten years ago. Third room on the left, I believe.”
“So there are no secret messages?” says Lochlan.
“None at all.” Ford tugs at his jacket and spreads his hands. “But I am getting older. Perhaps I miss a few things here and there.”
Fascinating.
I eye those scars along his skin, remembering the way he said his daughter had gone through enough. “Has Oren Crane tried to torture this information out of you in the past?” I say.
He nods. “His people have. Lina is particularly vicious.” His eyes flick to his daughter, and she shudders.
“We’ve met Mouse, too,” says Lochlan.
Ford shakes his head. “Mouse wasn’t always that way. He used to work on the docks. Moving the heavy loads. A lot of dockworkers are on Crane’s payroll, but Mouse refused to work for Crane once everyone started trying to rebuild. Crane sent Lina after him, and I heard she and her henchmen threw bricks at his head until he stopped moving—but it didn’t kill him. It just broke his mind. When he eventually woke up, Lina convinced him that he worked for Crane all along.”
I didn’t think I could hate Lina any more.
“So there’s truly no other details about sending secret messages you can share?” I say to him.
“No. I simply don’t track certain missives.”
That seems a little too deliberately vague, and I’ve spent too many hours questioning prisoners who spin the truth to avoid execution. I raise an eyebrow. “For certainpeople, surely.”
Ford’s eyes narrow. “You broke in here to kill me, and you haven’t offered a clear indication as to whether you’re workingwithoragainstthe people of Ostriary.” He folds his arms. “Kandala has quite the sour history with our country, so I believe I’ve said all I’m willing to say, Your Highness.”
“If your king had been forthright,” I say, “my motives would be crystal clear. Rian presented an opportunity to help Kandala in exchange for steel—and I boarded his ship with the intent to begin negotiations. Instead, he lied about his identity, killed my guards, and told me that someone is poisoning my country. I’m trapped here with no way home. I’ll work with whomever grants me the best options.” My voice turns sharp. “Right now, I rather doubt that’s your king.”
