I can smell the ale on him.
Hel and I glance at one another. “They’re out,” she says. “And so are we.”
She starts to move past him, but he presses a hand to her chest and pushes her back. “This is no time for games or lies, Helena. It’s very important that I speak with the Collector.”
“He is not here, Finn,” I sign, hoping he’ll believe me. “We are going to look for him.”
Finn groans and scrubs his hand through his thick, wavy hair. “Leave it to that bastard to leave you unattended. Anything could fucking happen.”
I jerk my head back, not shocked that he would say something so ridiculous but pissed off, nonetheless. “I do not need to be tended,” I sign, widening my eyes and exaggerating the movement of that last word. “I do as I please. Clearly.”
“How about you tell us what you want with the Collector,” Hel says, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “Then we can go from there.”
Finn glares at his sister. I know he loves her. Know he would do anything for her. But… He just isn’t the Finn he used to be.
“I met a man at the Bitter Barrel last night,” he says. “After a few mugs of ale, he started talking about the war, because he used to be in the Watch. He let it slip that he knows things about the Prince of the East’s current plans. I prodded him as best I could. He knew about the Eastlander army coming through Malgros. He knew who the guards were that guided them through the backstreets of the city. He even knows that General Vexx is in Malgros, and he knows his whereabouts.”
My blood goes very cold and very still. “Where is this man?” I sign.
“In my room, hopefully still waiting. I told him I had someone I needed him to talk to.”
Hel presses a hand to her forehead. “Gods. We need that information, Finn. Why would you leave him? Why not bring him here?”
Finn’s face contorts into a mask of frustration. “Because I was trying to protect the knowledge that you all are staying at Starworth Tor, Helena. I made certain he didn’t follow. That no one did. I wanted to interrogate him, but I didn’t know what to ask, not like the Collector would. I asked the innkeeper not to let him leave, so if either of you would like to stand in for Thibault, then perhaps that’s what should happen tonight rather than you two running around a foreign city in fancy dresses. This isn’t playtime.”
Hel’s dark eyes flare, and I half think she might punch her brother in the face. Instead, she looks at me. “What the fuck do we do now?”
A sigh escapes me. We have to be careful, but if Finn’s man knows where Vexx is…
Gods. A feeling crashes into me, a realization. I’ve been so busy traveling and worrying and surviving and thinking and fucking that I’ve buried my rage beneath hope and a longing for peace. But right now, at the thought of learning where Vexx is hiding, I exchange immaterial desires for something tangible. Something within my control.
Vengeance rises inside me on a vicious, violent tide. Suddenly, my dagger feels different around my thigh. It feels fucking good and right. It feels like power. Like I’m remembering who I am.
I turn to Hel, recalling her words when we were in the cave in the ravine, and I give her an answer. “What the fuck do we do?” I sign with a bitter smile, closing down my end of the bond too. “We go hunting.”
34
ALEXUS
“Running rooftops.” Rhonin presses his hands to his knees to catch his breath. “A skill I’ve never been particularly good at. Is this entirely necessary?”
“Unless you want me to murder dozens tonight instead of a few, yes.”
The Northland Watch had patrols on the streets, so we took to the rooftops, three stories up. I glance at the city wall in the distance to my left, making certain we’re still within the shadows of the taller buildings built on the city’s slope. Then I stare ahead, into the moonlit night, where Brear Hall looms.
“Come on,” I tell him, readying myself to sprint across the rooftop and leap. “We’re only three jumps away from our destination.”
And a little revenge.
On the last leap across a narrow alley, Rhonin misses by a matter of inches and slams into the building’s side.
Clinging to the clay tiles, he looks up at me when I peer over the edge, panic twisting his face into a grimace. “A little help would be nice. Before I end up splattered in the alley.”
I bend down, rolling my eyes, and grab him under the shoulders. “You might break, but you won’t splatter. You are a literal beast.” I groan and heave, but it’s like tugging on an oak tree. “Push off the wall with your toes.”
“I’m trying,” he says, voice and body straining.
I don’t know if what I’m about to do will work or if it’s even wise—probably not—but I summon the night’s energy, soak it in, and blast it toward the ground in a thin, concentrated stream. The moment it shatters the cobblestones in the alley, I take a deep breath and draw the energy toward me once more in a mighty swell.
