“My surname is Tanniyn. I figured it was obvious.”
Should have been. Children in Er’Rets who had no parents were given an animal surname to mark them as strays, though sometimes it also happened when a child was abandoned or…“But some have animal surnames because their parents disowned them, like Sir Eagan.”
“I’m an orphan,” Cole said. “My earliest memories are with my uncle. He was a soldier, and whenever he got called out, he’d leave me with Nonda, who he was seeing at the time. She hated me. As did her sons. They hated having to share food with me. Hated sharing air in their tiny house. One day, Uncle Crispen never came back, and eventually Nonda sold me to Lord Yarden. Lucky for me, life got better then.”
Mistel let the weight of his words settle in her heart. She’d always known Cole carried scars, but hearing the plain and unembellished truth twisted her stomach. It wasn’t just the cruelty of his past but how he’d survived it. He wasn’t bitter, didn’t let it define him. Instead, he’d carved out a life, clever and resilient, without needing to be the loudest voice in the room.
She studied him in the golden light—sandy brown hair, freckled cheeks, calm composure, quiet strength. She now saw the effort it took him, and she admired him more than she could say.
Drustan, on the other hand…Mistel had half a mind to let loose on that hunx the next time he opened his obnoxious mouth.
She nudged Bart closer to Cherix and lowered her voice. “You know, Cole, I think you’re incredible.”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“The way you live. The way you are. You don’t need to boast like Nash or wound like Drustan. You’re just…you. It’s admirable. And it makes me want to be a better person.”
Cole turned to her, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Good, because you’re stuck with me.”
Mistel chuckled, adjusting her reins. “It is good. Thank you for letting me stay.”
Cole let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “Thank you for following me.”
“Anytime,” she said.
She would have liked to have kissed him then. For now, the quiet closeness of the long ride back to Fat Vandy’s was enough. There would be time for more later.
Chapter 20
Kurtz
Kurtz worked methodically, the steady rasp of the currycomb against Smoke’s dark coat falling into the background as he focused on his bloodvoiced conversation with Prince Oren.
We found a link, we did, between Verdot Amal and the Hamartano family, Kurtz relayed silently. An invoice Cole swiped from Thusk’s office confirms it. Thusk also ships boar for Erlichman. It’s all connected, it is. He knocked the comb against the wall to free the accumulated horsehair. And tonight, we learned Fenris Yarden murdered the entire Glodwood family, he did. Burned their house to the ground.
Prince Oren’s voice came sharp in his mind. Are you certain?
Certain enough, eh? Fenris took their gold—what he saw as his—then torched the evidence.
I’ll inform Lord Livna at once, Prince Oren voiced. He should know what his cousin has done.
The gelded courser flicked an ear back, shifting his weight as Kurtz leaned in to brush beneath his mane. We also have a lead on Ice Island and playing at the Boar, we do. I’ll keep you updated.
Arman be with you, Prince Oren said.
The connection faded, and Kurtz sighed, running a hand over Smoke’s neck. “Guess we just keep at it, eh?”
The horse snorted, flicking his tail in what Kurtz took as agreement.
He tucked the comb away. Ah, how he loved Fat Vandy’s. His skin buzzed, just being back. He’d spent countless hours as a young man dozing in an empty stall when he should have been shoveling.
Grinning at the memory, Kurtz left the stables. Outside, the sun had nearly set, a sight he’d never again take for granted after thirteen years in that Ice Island pit.
He was tired, had stayed up too late last night trying to enter the Veil. He knew better. He wasn’t suddenly going to develop a magical ability he’d never had. Yet he desperately wanted to track Careeanne—find out where she lived, what she was doing.
He couldn’t even sense her mind.
Maybe she’d learned to shield her thoughts. Maybe she was dead.
