He tilted his head. “I am. But I’m a different breed of bastard from you, Ardonn.”
The skeletal man turned his bulging eyes to Ramson. “So, which of my dearest former associates blabbed? Was it one of the Cyrilians?”
“They were all quite eager to sing once I applied some tried-and-true methods of persuasion.”
Ardonn chuckled. “Seems you’ve quite a bit of Alaric Kerlan left in you, eh,Quicktongue?”
Ramson’s grasp tightened on his misericord. “It appears so. King Darias has issued a royal decree to have you escorted back to the Blue Fort for trial.”
The scholar rasped a laugh. “Trial,” he repeated. He drew the candle closer to him, fiddling with the handle of the holder as he huddled over its warmth. “I have no intention of going back to the Blue Fort fortrial,boy.”
“I quite agree. You’ll see I’ve left my men outside to wait. If we can settle matters here just between the two of us, I’ve no intention of taking you into captivity.” It was far from the truth, but Ramson had never been one to feel guilt over his lies, so long as he got what he wanted.
And what he wanted was, in reality, quite different from whatKing Darias had wanted when he’d sent Ramson out here with a full squad of Bregonian naval officers.
He shoved aside those thoughts. His mind focused, sharp as the tip of the misericord he pointed at the scholar’s throat. “Where is she?”
Scholar Ardonn blinked. “I haven’t the faintest idea who you’re talking about.”
“Then let me make it clear to you,” Ramson replied, applying pressure on his weapon. The scholar winced, the candlelight in the room flickering as he tensed. The flame had eaten halfway through the wax. “Sorsha Farrald, former Lieutenant of the Royal Guard and Kerlan’s ally. Mydarlinghalf sister, who took both the siphons and disappeared during the Battle of Godhallem.Where is she?”
Scholar Ardonn shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since the evening before the Battle of Godhallem. I’d heard rumors she was dead.”
Ramson narrowed his eyes. His sister danced with madness, but she was also one of the strongest and most ruthless warriors he’d encountered. It wasn’t fathomable to him that she’d simply…died after that night. No, his gut instinct—a cruel sort of brother-sister bond—told him she was still out there, unrelentingly clawing toward her goal. Ruin, revenge, and a complete upset of power over the men who had made her this way.
Scholar Ardonn chortled, which turned into another fit of coughs. “I know why you’re really here,” he said softly, his words burrowing into Ramson’s mind. “I was there when Kerlan spoke to you that night on the boat; I’ve heard rumors of what happened during the Battle of Godhallem.” His grin turned sharp. “You want to know what’ll happen to Cyrilia’s blood princess.”
And, just like that, no matter how long he’d steeled himself, Ramson’s thoughts scattered. Against every ounce of his will, a face flashed in his mind: fawn skin and dark hair, sharp cheekbones and chin, and most of all, eyes that pierced like they could see straight through every single one of his façades.
His knuckles whitened against the hilt of his weapon.
“All right, then. Let’s cut to the chase.” His voice scraped, and something stretched taut inside him. He felt as thoughhewere the one with a blade pressed against his throat. This scholar was his last hope; it was his last bid to find out what happened to someone whose Affinity had been siphoned. “I want to know everything about the siphons. How to destroy them. How to restore the stolen Affinities to their original owners. And…what happens to those whose powers were stolen.”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
Ramson tipped his head. “I’m a man who speaks the language of bargains. Scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. I can’t promise the Blue Fort will be as accommodating.”
It wasn’t the truth, yet it wasn’t exactly a lie, either. It was a hedge—a promise that if Ardonn wasn’t willing to take the bargain the Blue Fort offered him, then Ramson was an alternate choice.
A better choice.
He couldn’t help it; as much as he owed King Darias for his current circumstances and the Bregonian Navy squad assigned to him, Ramson had been brought up a con man, a mastermind of his own plans. He was used to working alone, against authority. His Navy squad tolerated no talk of treason or disloyalty, yet in Ramson’s opinion, words were just words; what did they matter as long as he got a confession or bargain out of their mark?
Scholar Ardonn grinned, showing a mouth of missing teeth. “What makes you think I have anything left to bargain for?”
It was the first time in their conversation that his words gave Ramson pause.
“You think Kerlan left without ensuring that none of us would survive to expose his secrets?” Ardonn continued. He raised a hand. In the lowlight, it was no more than skin on bones. “Ever heard of the poison ricyn?”
Ramson lowered his misericord. “He poisoned you.” The realization came too late.
Of course Kerlan would have devised a cruel way to protect his secrets. Before he’d fled Cyrilia, he’d murdered every one of his former subordinates in Novo Mynsk, with the help of Bogdan’s now-widow, a poison Affinite named Olyusha. It was Olyusha who had alerted Ramson to Kerlan’s trafficking scheme in a desperate search for her kidnapped husband.
He could almost hear her throaty chuckle in the room now.You’ve gotten rusty, Quicktongue.
“Ricyn,” the scholar repeated, “is a unique type of poison found only in a rare type of Cyrilian flower. The antidote comes from the roots. Kerlan fed the poison to us every day while we were employed under his service. He would give us a large enough dosage of the antidote so that we were safe. And now that he’s dead, he’s carved out the same fate for us.” Ardonn tilted his head to Ramson, skin stretching across hollow cheeks as he smiled. “Sounds like our master, doesn’t it?”
Ramson lunged forward to seize the scholar’s shirt. The man inhaled sharply, but his gaze was steady. The candle in his hands quivered, wax splashing over Ramson’s hands in bright burstsof searing pain. “Then you’ll tell me everything I need to know,right now,or you’ll wish the poison was what took you.”
