Silence falls as we mull over Skar’s words.
“What do you need from me, brother?” Vallan asks.
“I want you as our enforcer.” Skar claps Vallan’s high, bulky shoulder. “Explosives. We’ll need lots of them. Curry favors in the silver mines while you still run the place. Steal what you can. Shape the ore with Silversmith Vanison’s help in Nuhav.”
“All things I’ve already been doing.”
“Aye, but we must pick up the pace, brother, because your efforts will collide with Garroway’s, who I see as our infiltrator. Cub”—he turns to his rapt bloodthrall—“you will continue riling the commons in Nuhav, where you work best. You will deliver Vallan’s explosives to more human gangs. Tell them sweet lies to turn them against each other, if you must. I want to see four deadly detonations per month, until the Bronzes dosomething to quell the unrest and even the Five Ministries can’t ignore what’s going on in their livestock’s pigpen. The goal is diversion.”
My heart races at Skartovius’ matter-of-fact discussion regarding explosions in Nuhav. “That’s my home you’re talking about blowing up,” I snipe, feeling uneasy about the whole operation.
Skar blinks at me. “Don’t worry, little temptress. I plan on blowing up my home, too.”
His words of “equality” don’t do anything to settle my nerves, but he wouldn’t understand that, so I don’t even bother. Instead, I say, “What about you, Skar? While Vall and Garro are busy doing your dirty deeds, what will you be doing?”
“Trailing members of my duplicitous court, who I am near-certain of being spies for Overlady Alacine.”
“That sounds fun,” I say wryly. “And helpful. I want to join you.”
He shakes his head. “Too dangerous.”
My nose wrinkles. “Weren’t you the one angry about being separated from me? Here’s your chance to fix that.”
His eyes narrow, knowing I have him caught. “Change doesn’t come from standing in the shadows,” he murmurs, echoing my previous words.
My smile comes out sharp. “Just so, my lord.”
“Fine. Only because I know I can’t stop you from doing something evenmorereckless if you aren’t by my side.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Vallan grumbles.
“What else?” I ask. “Surely there’s more you’re planning, Lord Ashfen.”
“Yes. I am planning on arming my court for the inevitable battle ahead. Forcing them to choose a side. While Garroway riles up the commons in Nuhav, lighting the fuse to the powder keg, I plan to do the same here in Olhav. Make no mistake, weare working to dismantle a single line of the Five Ministries. But, eventually, we must come forallof them.”
More thick quietness fills the stuffy room. I’m sweating under my arms now, chewing the inside of my cheek.This madman has us poised for an actual takeover. I don’t know how the fuck he plans to do it, but I have to admire his perseverance and audaciousness.
A moment later, I crease my brow, realizing Idoknow how he plans to do it:One Minister at a time.
It’s quite genius, if he can pull it off. And though I don’t like the idea of destroying parts of Nuhav to fit his needs, I also recognize maybe some destruction is necessary to start anew.The gangs at each other’s throats is not the worst outcome—they are the source of so much grief in my city.
“I will start right away,” Vallan says, thumping a fist to his chest. He turns to leave—
Stopping when I put a hand to his wrist. “Before you go.” I swallow hard, taking each of their gazes, unwilling to wilt before them. “I have something to say.”
They look curious, on bated breath, and it’s the moment I know I have my three mates at my beck and call whenever I need. It’s a fortifying thought and keeps me talking. “I don’t want to keep secrets from you, so you must know: I don’t think we have as much time as you would like, Skar.”
“Why, temptress?”
I gulp. “Because Lukain visited me last night, in secret. He essentially told me as much.”
“What?” Skar’s eyes flare with righteous anger. What makes my heart sink isn’t how his eyes drill into me, but how they bore into the face of his thrall—the half-blood he must believe allowed this to happen in his absence.
Worrying for Garroway’s safety, I instantly regret saying anything without consulting or telling him first.
Skartovius slams his fistthroughthe table. The crash is so loud my body instinctively tenses.
“Damn the Damned!” he roars.
