There was something I was missing here, which wasn’t surprising. Latour was infamous for inserting seemingly random scenes into the narrative. They would sit there without any obvious reason for their existence, until three hundred pages later some shocking revelation would make them crucial and relevant. One of them could’ve related to Silveren and without the final book, I would never make the connection, no matter how many times I’d reread.
The lack of the third book was so fucking frustrating.
“What do you want to do?” Reynald asked.
“I want to rattle Hreban’s cage.”
“You want to leak word of the iron.” His eyes lit up.
“Yes.”
“So do I.”
“Rattled people make mistakes. I want to see what he does.”
“Then we’re in accord. I want to stab Hreban and see if Silveren moves to counter.”
We shared a look across the table.
“It is far riskier than selling it to the Shears,” I said.
“I’m willing to take the risk,” he said. “Let me handle this as well.”
“What will you do?”
“I have a friend who works for the Justice Chamber.”
I waited but he didn’t volunteer anything else. Whoever this friend was, the books didn’t mention them.
“It’s my turn to demonstrate trust then.”
His grin had a slightly evil edge to it. “Don’t worry, Maggie. Your trust is not misplaced.”
CHAPTER17
PLANTER15
Outside my window the sun was setting. Somewhere in the distance bells rang eight times. The Magnars had been gone for two hours. I heard footsteps and looked up. Clover appeared in the open doorway and knocked on the doorframe. “Are you sure you don’t want any dinner?”
Shana had cooked the whole dinner before she left, complete with dessert, but I couldn’t stomach a single bite. “I’m not hungry.”
“Snacks? You didn’t even have any sambocades.”
“I’m good. But thank you for thinking of me.”
She frowned and left.
Last night, after Reynald and I talked, he had gone out. In the morning he informed me that the errand was taken care of. Reynald’s friend moved fast. I’d sent Kaiden out to the wharf just after noon for general reconnaissance, and according to him, men in armor in black and purple tabards had swarmed the Yolenta warehouse. He couldn’t even get close. Hreban had people in the wharf. By now he would know that the warehouse had been raided by the Justice Chamber, and he would deduce why.
We’d made enemies of two Great Families today and if they ever found out about it, there would be hell to pay. And yet it didn’t bother me. All of my anxiety was going toward the Magnars. Filderon was overjoyed that Gort had changed his mind and had invited the Magnar family to join him for dinner at the house he leased. They had put on their mercenary garb. I wished them to “Survive, get paid,” which was an old mercenary saying for good luck. Lute and Will laughed at me and then they left.
I’d set this in motion. I had known exactly how it would go if I told the Magnars about Falcon Point. It was too late for regrets. I’d sent four people to either kill someone or get killed, and I desperately hoped it wouldn’t be the latter.
I had to get out of the office. Sitting here was just making me stir-crazy. I took my desk lantern and went outside.
Instead of a typical roof, our square of a house was topped by a battlement like a castle, a flat stone walkway bordered by a waist-high parapet on both the outer and inner sides. The floor was slightly slanted, allowing the rain to run toward the drain holes in the outer rampart.
In the northeastern corner of the battlement, someone had set up a table, two benches, and a triangle of canvas that you could stretch over the table and attach via a hook to a ring embedded in the rampart. To get to the battlement, you had to take a flight of stairs from the courtyard, which was exactly what I did.
