Cole winked at her. “I’ll tell you later.” Then he thought to Kurtz, What if my father wasn’t framed at all? What if he took the fall to protect Fenris and his men from something bigger being exposed?
Wouldn’t surprise me, Kurtz voiced. Fenris kept Crispen alive because killing him would’ve pointed back to him. But now that Fenris is gone, Crispen talking could expose Ikârd and the rest. Kurtz shook his head. That rotting brute won’t let your father live.
Cole shivered at the memory of the scalps on Ikârd’s belt. He’ll silence him to keep the past buried.
Your father’s expendable now.
We need to get him out of there.
Kurtz grunted. Even with what we know about the tunnel, it’s not that easy.
But we also have Zanna.
True, that. I’ll think on it.
Cole nodded his thanks. He couldn’t let his father end up like Councilor Erlichman, a pawn in the schemes of miscreants. No matter what it took, Cole would clear his father’s name and get him out of Ice Island, whichever came first.
Crispen West deserved a chance to start over.
And Cole would make sure he got it.
Chapter 32
Mistel
The higher the risk, the sweeter the song. That’s what Cole had said when he’d told Mistel he wanted to rescue his father from Ice Island. Mistel had replied with: only for those who live to sing it.
She sat between Cole and Zanna at a table in the Black Boar, straining to hear Zanna over the buzz of voices and clinking tankards. The guardswoman was explaining the plan she’d formed with Kurtz to break Crispen West out of Ice Island. Kurtz, who was currently across the room, talking to that Lingel barmaid woman instead of sitting here, convincing Mistel all would be well.
“It has to be tomorrow night,” Zanna said. “Things should be nice and quiet.”
Mistel didn’t see how they could be so certain. “What if Verdot Amal doesn’t attend the funeral?”
“He will,” Zanna said. “Everyone will be cozying up to Nash Erlichman, trying to get on his good side. He’s in charge of a dynasty now. Worth a fortune. Verdot won’t waste a heartbeat trying to tuck that boy into his pocket.”
Mistel’s stomach churned at the thought of people taking advantage of poor Nash, who had just lost his father. “It sounds awfully dangerous.” She looked at Cole, and her heart squeezed at the thought of him getting stuck forever in that horrible place. “If you get caught, they might lock you up.”
“I’ll be fine,” Cole said. “If anyone asks why I’m there, I’ll say I’ve come to visit my father. Worst case scenario, they’ll throw me out.”
Worst case scenario, they’d lock him up beneath that grate covering the pit.
Under the table, Mistel took hold of Cole’s hand. His eyes had shone when he’d said the word father, and it made her heart ache. “He was falsely imprisoned,” she said. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier if the king just pardoned him?”
“We don’t have any proof that he’s innocent,” Cole replied. “And Achan may not want to get involved, especially considering why we came.”
“Kurtz should bloodvoice him and ask,” Mistel said. “Then we’ll know.”
Zanna’s brows shot up. “Don’t you dare ask Kurtz to bloodvoice the king.”
Mistel waved her hand dismissively. “Kurtz and Cole are friends with Achan. He talks to them often, doesn’t he?”
Cole shrugged. “He checks in.”
“Will you go ask Kurtz, Zanna?” Mistel batted her eyelashes playfully.
Zanna frowned, clearly unimpressed with Mistel’s antics. “Why me?”
“Because he likes you best,” Mistel said.
