“I gave that to him too.”
“And what is he going to do with it?” I already know the answer to this, but I want to hear it from his lips.
“He has ordered it to be detonated on the isle.”
“When?”
“Five days from now.”
“Five days?” My heart leaps into my throat. It takes all my effort to keep hold of the glamour. “Where will it be detonated?”
“Just beyond the wall in Faerwyvae.”
I’m a little surprised at this. I’d assumed the army would try to detonate the bomb on the Eisleigh side of the wall, especially now that Mr. Duveau’s broken alliance with Dahlia removes their opportunity to enter Faerwyvae unfettered. “How will the army get into Faerwyvae?”
“A warship.”
“The warships were sent back to Bretton.”
He gives a subtle shake of his head, but his eyes remain involuntarily locked on mine. “Not all will truly return. Tomorrow, one of the warships turns course and heads straight to its destination.”
“Which is where?”
“Here. The warship will dock in Port Denyson.”
My mouth goes dry. Of course the warship would come here, to one of the farthest points from Faerwyvae. That way, even if the fae were able to intercept the army, they’d be too far from their magic to do much harm. Still, it’s a reckless plan. It will take the humans days to get from Port Denyson to the wall, especially with such precious cargo demanding a careful pace. There must be more to it than that. “How are they transporting the bomb?”
“I don’t know.”
Rage courses through me as I raise my voice to a shout. “How are they doing it! Tell me!” Just like that, I’m stripped from my concentration, severing the glamour. My body feels weak in its absence, but I force my limbs to remain steady as I bring the blade back to Mr. Duveau’s throat.
Free from the glamour, he closes his eyes and whimpers like a broken animal. My lips curl in disgust; the sight of him so helpless makes me feel cold, sick, empty. Somehow, seeing my enemy brought to his knees is far less satisfying than I expected it to be. I can’t help but think of Amelie sobbing over Cobalt’s remains.
“Thank you,” he says, snapping my attention back to the present. “Thank you for releasing me.”
I purse my lips. If he wants to believe I released the glamour on purpose, I’ll let him. But that doesn’t mean this is over.
Reconnecting to my inner fire, I remind myself of everything he’s done. All the pain he’s caused. Rage courses through my veins. “I’ll ask you one more time,” I say through clenched teeth. “How are they transporting the bomb?”
“A…a tank. I think.”
A tank?I curse under my breath. I’ve only seen the armored vehicles depicted in the broadsheets. From what little I know of them, they’re strong and deadly.
“Let me go,” Mr. Duveau says, voice trembling. “I must catch up with that ship.”
“Perhaps you should have thought twice before condemning the isle to death.”
He shakes his head. “I never wanted this to happen.”
“Oh, is that why you stole the Parvanovae from me and gave it to King Grigory?”
“I didn’t think he’d use ithere. I thought he’d use it on a distant enemy, not the Fair Isle.”
I clench my jaw. “If that’s true, then you’re a bigger idiot than I ever thought before.”
“You left me with nothing,” he says. “The treaty stripped me of my position, my pay. My wife was made a social pariah. My sons—”
“Sons?” The blood leaves my face. All this time, I never imagined Mr. Duveau as anything other than a monster. Never could I have imagined him as a husband or father.
