The propulsion of that force can be so powerful, the mightiest wind, one I used to know how to ride through the sky. This burst is small, but it still sends Rhonin upward, flying over me, until he lands two yards away with a loud grunt, face down on the roof’s tiled ridge cap.
He pushes up and snaps his head around to look at me. “What the fuck was that?”
I brush dust from the impact off my jacket as I peek into the alley to see if anyone heard us. It’s still empty, likely thanks to the activity near Brear Hall.
“Energy,” I reply.
He huffs. “That’s your answer for everything when it comes to your magick, isn’t it? Energy.”
I stalk toward him, careful of my footing, and help him stand. “Now isn’t really the time for a magick lesson. Let’s get in there and get this over with.”
Quietly, we move to the stairs snaking up the side of the building and hurry down to street level where we slip inside the servant’s entry at the back of Brear Hall, glamours up. I’ve been here before, though never in the kitchens.
The gazes of several servants hang on us as we move through their work areas, but no one says a word, not even when we enter the secured parts of the building. Brear Hall consists of Northland Watch offices, meeting halls, a grand dining room, a ballroom, and an entire floor of apartments dedicated to Rooke’s living quarters and rooms for guests, like Colden and me.
Like Vexx.
We step into the busy main hall, shielded behind an old statue of Neri—half man/half wolf. The statue’s white marble matches the floors and walls, gleaming under candlelight. Guests are still arriving in their sleek clothes, checking their invitations at the door, and guards stand stationed beneath Tiressian flags hanging from every pillar surrounding the circular entry. They look disinterested and unworried, barely noticing the people who pass before them, which is far more than the twenty Emory mentioned.
“Well, this is bad,” Rhonin says beneath his breath.
I try to silence my annoyed groan. Either Emory lied, which I can’t imagine, or he was given false information, which is always possible. Regardless, the fact that there are this many people here tonight obliterates my plan to corner the admiral and Vexx at dinner.
I’ve a second option, though.
I glance at the vaulted entry and the wide, marble stairs. Rhonin follows me as we merge with a group of guests and start the climb toward stringed music filtering down from above. Thanks to our attire and shorter hair, we blend in well enough with the partygoers.
We don’t break with everyone else when they enter the third-level ballroom. Instead, we keep moving to the last floor—the apartments. Six surround the stairwell, every door closed and all quiet.
“Any ideas?” Rhonin keeps his voice trained low as I guide him to the other side of the floor.
“I know where Rooke lives. That’s all I need to know. He’ll willingly divulge all else by the time I’m finished with him.”
Rhonin draws his daggers as I pause before Rooke’s door and press my ear to the wood. Voices. Laughter. No guards.
Something isn’t right.
I turn the knob and push the door open, remaining at the threshold. Two men—one with short, blond hair and sun-tanned skin, the other with gray braids and a ruddy, weathered complexion, a raven sitting on his shoulder—sit in finely carved armchairs near the hearth, glasses of dark liquor in hand. They aren’t facing the fire. They’re facing me.
Admiral Rook and General Vexx.
Rooke nervously rolls his shoulders inside his dove-gray uniform, covered in an admiral’s insignia. He looks at me with a strange expression, one that says he’s scared but has placed his faith in the man to his right. A mistake.
“Ah, Un Drallag, we’ve been waiting for you.” Vexx wears a bronze-colored suit, the color of his army’s garb, and that familiar, cruel smile is at play on his lips. He glances at Rhonin, and the raven’s eyes move too. “I see you brought my traitorous soldier along for the fun. You really made my job too easy.”
Rhonin says nothing in response, though he shifts on his feet, no doubt wanting to tear into Vexx. But he has a family to think of. The spy must play the traitor, for now.
Behind us, I hear movement. Footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Guards,” Rhonin grits out.
Fuck. We’ve walked right into a trap.
I step inside the apartment, Rhonin with me, and shut the door.
Vexx laughs. “That’s not going to keep them out. All I need to do is say the word, and they’ll march in here and drag you to my ship. In a matter of days, you’ll return to the Eastland coast, whether you want to or not.”
“You know what I’m capable of,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes. My pulse is pumping, my voice so deep and low it sounds foreign to my ears. “You saw, in Frostwater Wood. I can destroy every single one of those men in the blink of an eye. And I can destroy you.” I aim my next words at Rooke. “Did the Watch find two guards dead in an alley near the shipyard earlier today? Chests blown open?” Admiral Rooke’s face falls, and Vexx’s eyes glisten. “That was me,” I inform them. “And I’ll do it a thousand times more before I let anyone lay hands on me or mine. Know that.”
