“I don’t know yet. I have six months to figure it out.”
“Not a lot of time.”
“You’re right. Unfortunately, your timeline to rescue your son is even shorter . . .”
Reynald was a careful man. Cautious, even. But he was also a grief-stricken father desperate to find his son. He’d been trying for months and gotten nowhere, and he was at the end of his patience. I saw a hint of that when he was on that roof, thinking about storming the Redeemer Tower.
There was an excellent chance that if I told him exactly what would happen, he would lose his shit and go on a killing spree, which would likely end with his head separated from his body. The fictional Rellas had killed him, and I didn’t want to take a chance that the real Rellas would want to do the same. I had to keep things vague.
“You have about five months at most. Less than that actually. More like four and a half, before the end of the High Court Session. You have to pry Matheo out of the Tower before the first assassination, because after that it will be very difficult.”
Impossible. It would be impossible.
“And Reynald, if you fail, you must leave the city before the Winter Hunt. I don’t care how angry you are. If you value your life at all, you must leave. Once the second murder happens, that entire mess of Hreban and the Redeemers spins out of control and sets Kair Toren on fire . . .”
Reynald rose from his chair and stared at me.
“What?”
“Maggie,” he said, his voice quiet. “Can you see the future?”
CHAPTER10
Crap. Crap, crap, crap.
I’d said too much. I’d concentrated so hard on not saying anything that would immediately set him off, that I had put way too much out there. Damn it.
Too late to back out now. Even if I did make something up, he wouldn’t believe me. He was focused on me like a wolf who had spotted a lame bunny.
“Not exactly. I know a version of it.”
“Tell me.”
I didn’t want to go there.
“Tell me what’s coming. Please.”
“A civil war and everything that brings. Slaughter, atrocities, famine. A complete breakdown of society, aided by the invasion of the Crimson Empire and a plague. It begins with three powerful people being murdered one after another, and things really fall apart after the second murder, the assassination of the crown prince. King Sauven isn’t in his right mind already. After losing his eldest son, he becomes unhinged.”
And that was just the start of it.
“During the investigation into that assassination, the capital burns for three days. They will call it the Night of a Thousand Fires. Rellas fractures as the Eight Families revolt and start clawing at each other, trying to get to the throne and pull the Savarics off it. Then it’s tragedy after tragedy. Nobody is spared. Even the countryside endures atrocities. The king’s forces march to meet the rebels and come across a small town called Applegrove. The town refuses to open its gates. The commander in charge takes Applegrove and decimates the male population. Every tenth male, no matter their age, is put to the sword. They spare no one, not even babies. The river by the town runs red with blood . . .”
The look in Reynald’s eyes made me stop.
“Too much?” I asked.
“Do I die before I rescue my son?”
Danger, danger . . .
“Look, it’s probably better not to know.”
“Tell me,” he growled.
“Yes.” Technically not true, but true in spirit.
Reynald closed his eyes for a long moment, then opened them. “How do I die?”
