Vox was shaking his head. “We don’t need you to be anything more than what you are.” He looked at Lierick once more, who nodded. “The Second Line has resurrected, and they want theirseat back on the Conclave, and to return to their ancestral lands in Ebrus.”
Moran stared, then burst out laughing. “Fucking Goddess, Vox Vylan. I didn’t think you had a sense of humor, but that was a good one.” He took a large sip of his drink, but when no one else laughed, he lowered his glass. “You’re serious? Vox, you studied the same histories as I did. Your Line eradicated them all—every man, woman and child in their bed. There’s no way.”
Leaning forward, Lierick raised an eyebrow. “And yet, here we are.” His jaw twitched—the only outward sign he was using his abilities—and Moran’s hand raised, his fingers fluttering in a wave against his will. The Ingmire Heir’s mouth fell open as he stared at his hand like it had betrayed him. Lierick let go of the magic, and Moran’s limb fell to the table with a thud.
Lierick tilted his head. “Lierick Hanovan, Heir to the Second Line. This is my cousin, Iker. And we’d really like your help.”
Moran made a gesture with his fingers, and someone ran out of the room. Braxus launched toward them, but Moran lifted a hand to stop him. “He’s not going to get the guard. I can’t make decisions like this by myself. I need to get my… partner, and we need to have this conversation back in my office.”
I guess this was another one of those leaps of faith, where we had to assume that the Goddess had a plan and wasn’t about to screw us over epically.
Silently, we stood and followed Moran back into his office, sitting around in a loaded silence as we waited for this mystery partner to appear. Not even ten minutes later, the grizzled guy who let us through the wall opened the door, gesturing for his leader, and Moran disappeared out of the room.
Fidgeting, I tried to get comfortable. I wanted to sit beside Hayle, to take comfort in his strength, but I couldn’t. Because he was a lying liar-pants.
“Avie…” the Lord of Liartown murmured, and I glared at him.
“Now is not the time,” Vox said softly. I turned away from Hayle, my heart hurting.
The door reopened, and in came someone I didn’t recognize, though the guys obviously did. Given his similarity to Moran, with the same straight nose and brows, he had to be related.
Vox stood, reaching out to grip the man’s hand. “Neho. Well, this is also a surprise. Both of the Heirs of the Fifth Line running an underground criminal network is… unusual.”
The man, Neho, hummed in agreement. “A night for surprises, I see. My brother told me of your proposition, and we’re willing to help on one condition.” He ushered everyone back to their seats.
Lierick inclined his head. “What condition?”
Neho wasn’t jovial like his brother. He had haunted eyes and two deep lines on his forehead that spoke of hours spent frowning. He already had a light dusting of gray at his temples, even though he couldn’t have been more than a few years older than us.
“We intend to overthrow our father.” He turned to Vox. “We seem to have that in common. When he is gone, I’ll become Baron and I’ll pledge our soldiers to your cause—on that you have my word. But I can’t do that until our younger brother, Powell, is returned. He wasgifted”—he spat the word, like it was poison on his tongue—“to your family in exchange for all the masonry jobs in Ebrus, and preferential treatment from the Baron of the First Line. He was givento Yaron specifically, as an act of good faith.”
Vox tensed, his whole body going rigid.
Even I knew what that meant. Everyone in Ebrus knew about Yaron Vylan’s proclivities, though that was the sanitised wordfor what he did. He was a sadist, a psychopath, and I wouldn’t want to be his plaything for even five minutes. I’d rather die.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Vox said solemnly.
Neho Ingmire’s face gave nothing away. “In exchange for our unfettered support, I want you to rescue my brother and take him as far from here as possible. Leave him somewhere safe, where he can heal and be happy.” Neho’s voice wobbled toward the end of his statement, though his face didn’t shift.
Vox looked between the rest of us, and I nodded immediately, as did Hayle, Lierick, and Iker. No one deserved to be tortured by Yaron Vylan, especially not for the sake of rich, powerful men becoming more rich and powerful.
“We’ll do it, but we’re going to need some resources.” He stood, shaking Neho’s hand, followed by Moran’s. “May your father and mine rot in the fucking underworld for what they’ve done.”
Neho’s jaw tensed. “If the Goddess has any sense of justice, they will.”
Twelve
Hayle
The Underground hideout beneath the Broken Heart Inn was literally the front for yet another tunnel system. Moran led us through a wall in the back of his office and then down once more. The tunnels were so narrow that my shoulders brushed the sides, but at least they were well lit.
We walked for twenty minutes, before one of the tunnels finally opened up into a large cavern with several doors. There was also a kitchen, and what looked like a bathroom off to the side.
“You guys can stay down here until the heat from Baron Vylan dies down, or you’re ready to move. It’s almost impossible to find your way down here, if you don’t have a guide. Even now, we find the body of the odd unfortunate soul who got lost in the catacombs.”
“And if we want to leave?” I asked. Being underground was not an overly comfortable experience for me.
“You can get your hounds to track back the way you came.” Moran pointed up to where a rusted ladder was bolted to the side of the cavern wall. At the very top was a manhole cover. “Or you can climb out there. Just be aware that it comes out in the rear gardens of the Great Hall, so be wary of when you appear.”He looked at his watch. “I need to go. Sleep well.” With that, he disappeared back down one of the long tunnels.
