“Do you work closely with the other Orders too?”
“We trade information with the Order of Crows on occasion, but that’s the extent of it. The other Orders we don’t see unless there’s either a Conclave or a Bidding at one of the luderes,” Scorpius answers.
“Oneof the luderes…there’s more?” I demand, stopping in the middle of the street, shocked. “Do you own them too?” I accuse, suddenly feeling witless for not realizing or thinking to ask about any of this sooner.
“No,” Scorpius hastily assures me. “There’s only one other ludere. It’s funded by the Order of Stags. Luderes and blade slaves as a practice started to die off after there was a coup inside the Order of Wolves a long time back. Since then, the Orders have found other ways to recruit.
“We got involved after Dorsin’s death because it was an opportunity to source information and plant potential informants. Plus, after the hunt ordered on the former ludere master, we thought it wise to keep a closer eye on what was happening there.”
I’m drawn back to that night in my mind, the way they snuck into his room without even a sound or change in air pressure to give them away—not that I would have noticed any of those things back then, but I’m certain Dorsin would have. The look on the master’s face as Scorpius drew his blade across his throat and the vindication I felt at watching the fae who had just beaten me to the point of wanting to die, bleed out in front of me instead… I couldn’t appreciate it then like I can now, but the retribution was a thing of beauty.
Something in me almost wants to thank them for what they did that night, but they didn’t do it for me. It was a hunt, nothing more. Any praise or gratitude I might feel after so long is misplaced, because it’s not truly what they did that I’m grateful for, it’s that I survived it.
“Why was Dorsin executed anyway?” I voice instead. “What did you take from him that night?”
“He stole a contract and some other documents from an Elix,” Skull tells me.
My brow furrows. “What is that?”
“Potionists. They’re fae with a thura for tonics and philters. Their lines are very rare, very powerful, and they should never be crossed. I don’t know what Dorsin was thinking,” Bones answers.
“She wanted her stolen things back. She was very concerned about a particular fertility covenant if I recall correctly. She didn’t say more than that though. Most Elix’s that are worth anything pride themselves on their secrecy. They have to be, or fae won’t go to them for help. She wanted Dorsin dead for crossing her, all of the stolen documents back, and the apprentice who sold her out returned to be dealt with. We found the traitor in Dorsin’s stronghold after we dealt with him and retrieved what we needed from his vault,” Scorpius explains.
“It was an odd hunt to say the least,” Skull notes. “Dorsin traded in flesh not secrets, so why he got himself caught up with an Elix was irregular.”
“He finally fucked with the wrong fae,” Bones finishes. “The ordering of the hunt was very clandestine and hush hush, but that’s Elixes for you. She paid us five times our normal rate to make Dorsin’s hunt a priority. We used that surplus to wedge our way in with Tilleo afterward.”
“What were the other documents aside from the fertility thing?” I ask, intrigued by why it was so important to get them back. Dorsin’s greed was his end, but he had to be good at what he did before that. There’s not a trace of who I am or where I came from floating in the wind anywhere, it seems. He tied up loose ends the way Wilik plaited hair, painfully and inescapably. Whatever it was he was hoping to find in those documents was important enough that he left himself open to retaliation.
“We were paid not to look, so we didn’t,” Skull answers simply.
I frown at that, but I suppose I can’t say that I wouldn’t do the same thing now. Some things simply aren’t worth the cost; Dorsin certainly learned that lesson the hard way.
“Our ludere—” Scorpius starts.
“Our?” I challenge, astonished by the claim and a little incensed.
“Yes,ours,” Scorpius enunciates. “You’re a Scorpion now, Telson. That means anything and everything that we have is now yours too.”
As profound and incredible as a declaration like that is, any warmth it might stoke is snuffed by the sick dread that roils through me like thick smoke. Since leaving the ludere, I’ve come to understand that the realms and way of life for most fae is some fucked-up cycle of the strong and powerful preying on the weak and unfortunate. On some level, I’ve come to terms with the reality that there isn’t much I can do about that.
It’s a “grain of sand against a tidal wave” kind of situation. And I’ve spent the entirety of the life that I can remember being pummeled by those waves. All I want to do now is dry off, heal, and make sure that I’m never pulled under by those punishing forces again.
Scorpius’s use of the wordoursfeels like a punch to the gut, regardless of the sentiment behind it. I may not be able to fight the powers that be, but even so, I don’t want anything to do with any of the fucked-up things that were done to me in that ludere. I don’t want to be a part ofoursif that’s what it entails.
“Hey,” Bones soothes as he cups my cheeks and draws my untethered focus to him. “I see that stunningly ruthless mind spinning in all kinds of directions, but here, with us, is where you need to be,” Bones tells me, hunching over so that he can bring his eyes level to mine.
Scorpius and Skull move closer to my sides, each of them caging me in a way that I realize I need desperately right now. Bones’s swirling black gaze pulls me in and anchors me, but I find that I want to tear through the glamour and stare into Riall’s hazel eyes instead.
“I can’t,” I start. “I fucking won’t…”
“You don’t have to, Moonling,” Skull assures, pressing further into my side as I look over at him. “If you want to burn it to the fucking ground, then we’ll burn it to the fucking ground.”
“We’ll hunt the masters and string Tilleo up in the training room. We can bring in healers, and you can beat the piss out of him every day until there’s nothing left,” Bones adds.
“You can bathe in the blood and tears of anyone who’s ever hurt you, including us, all you have to do is say the word and it’s done,” Scorpius vows, and his fingers tenderly graze my cheek in a touch that feels so reassuring that I can’t help but lean into it. “We haven’t done anything with the ludere yet because we were waiting for you,” he tells me softly. “Pick your poison, Scorpion, and we’ll help you strike at everyone who ever hurt you.”
I close my eyes as their fervent promises and devotion wash over me like warm water. Their adoration and allegiance lap at my soul, and I don’t have words for what’s singing in my heart right now. I have more at my fingertips than I ever dared to reach for, and for once in my life, it all feels…right.
