‘You think you know?’ He laughed, shaking his head despite the wire cutting his skin, ‘You know nothing, girl. He’s trying to save us all. You haven’t seen the Tangra ships docking in Wrecker’s Cove. You haven’t seen their Zhrests bleeding their own men dry to create those… those monstrosities.’
My heart stuttered before it hammered in my chest like a war drum. Despite this, I controlled my tone, dismissive disdain hiding my shock. ‘Monstrosities? Oh, do you mean the void cubes? Yes, I know about them.’ Waving my hand flippantly for effect, I observed Yaran’s reaction.
‘You… do?’ he stuttered, fear flashing in his eyes. ‘But Ernesto said he’ll stop the dwarves –’ He stopped, glancing at me. ‘Or you’re bluffing. Those things can’t be here. You don’t know what they can do in the presence of magic. Tivala guaranteed he’d stop that paranoid bastard.’ Yaran paused as if only now realising he’d already surrendered too much. ‘The point is, girl, those who serve the king will die, and I won’t be one of them.’
‘Wrong again, you old fool. I know exactly what the void cubes do. You’ll tell me how Tivala was planning on stopping them from being used in Truso,’ I said. He pressed his mouth tight, refusing to answer until I drew my dagger, pointing to the sleeping woman. ‘Talk, or I’ll wake up your pretty new wife and the little boy sleeping upstairs.’
My tone didn’t falter. Whatever Yaran saw in my eyes, he believed this lie. I watched as an inhuman howl ripped from his throat until Irsha covered his mouth. My Blade tensed, but didn’t say a word, trusting my judgement while I fought the bile rising in my throat. It felt too real, too ruthless, something Jagon would do. Threatening a child’s life was the lowest of the low, but if one death could save thousands, could I go through with it? The image of a squeaky toy on the floor almost made me vomit, and in my thoughts, I prayed to be spared this decision.
Yaran was strangling himself in Irsha’s grasp, his eyes bulging and staring at me with such hatred I should have combusted from its intensity. I crouched in front of the frenzied man, placing my hand on his cheek. My aether flowed, healing his minor cuts and bruises while my fingers traced a healing sigil.
‘You’re a mage…’
The disbelief in his voice made me smile under the mask, especially when he stopped struggling. ‘I’m so much more. Tell me what you know, because your only chance to live, the only chance for your family to live, is to work for Reynard,’ I said, looking away when he swallowed hard.
‘All I know is there’s an agreement. As long as Tivala takes over the capital, those things won’t be used here,’ he said, eyes darting towards his sleeping wife.
‘Agreement with whom? Who is transporting the cubes?’ I asked, but he shook his head.
‘I don’t know. One of yours, I suppose. I don’t fucking know.’ He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth when the garrotte sank deeper into his flesh.
‘Now, now, don’t be coy. I’ll eventually find out, just like I found you and your master’s plans. You, however, won’t be here to see it.’ I trailed my finger over his neck. ‘Lord Tivala can’t even protect you from the sharp wire cutting through your neck. He’s far, far away. Don’t worry. I’m here, and I promise if you answer, you’ll survive the night.’
Yaran’s entire posture collapsed, his chin wobbling as if he aged ten years in moments. Resignation replaced the fear in his eyes. When he sat on his haunches, I gestured for Irsha to release him. I’d broken him. I should have been proud, but all I felt was a disgust that sat heavily in the pit of my stomach.
‘Ask the Poisoner, he knows the details. My job was to reveal Reynard’s marriage contract with Tivala’s daughter and convince the nobles to stay home when Ernesto’s men arrive.’
The Poisoner? Jagon? If he knew about the artefacts, that would explain his trying to drag me away. I glanced at Irsha, and he nodded grimly as if reading my thoughts. ‘So, he thought he could keep Reynard out of the capital until he arrived with his army?’ I asked with a scoff, but Yaran smirked.
‘Ifhe returns. Besides, taking back the city would end with thousands of casualties,’ he said, and my fists tightened at his patronising tone. ‘It’s easy to dethrone a king who’s chasing after some commoner like a love-sick pup. With the contract in hand, and Tangra’s support, the high nobles would happily turn against him.’
‘And you think the Tangra Hierophant won’t invade and take over the kingdom?’ This was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t seriously consider replacing the man who’d saved the kingdom with an overseas invader.
‘Why would they? We’ve promised them the southern trade routes. They won’t have any casualties whilst we get rid of the mages and a king who thinks elevating the poor will make Dagome better.’ He spat on the floor.
‘Nightshade, we’re running out of time… and patience,’ Irsha said quietly, but the tightening of his fists and the fury burning in his eyes revealed how close he was to ending Yaran’s madness.
‘Because those religious fanatics won’t stop,’ I said, but it didn’t make a difference.
Yaran spouted this nonsense like it was gospel, but Tivala was too smart to believe it. I just couldn’t decipher what his true goal was. Still, it was time to end this farce. Yaran flinched as I moved closer.
‘Open your mouth.’ He frowned at my command, but Irsha grabbed his hair, forcing him to look up.
‘Open up, or I’ll break your jaw. Either way, you’ll take what she’s giving you, you entitled, compassionless prick.’
Yaran’s mouth popped open under Irsha’s unyielding glare. I pushed the small pill onto his tongue, pressing his jaw shut when he tried to spit it out.
The marquess’ face reddened, and he started coughing. With each cough, Yara tried expelling the pill, but instead only spread the toxin while I recited the activating sequence. When he fell into hopeless resignation, I gestured for Irsha to release him, summoning a green flame to dance on my hand. This part was only for show, but Yaran’s eyes widened as he stared at it, still catching his breath while the toxins entered his system.
I crouched beside the shaking man, lifting his chin. ‘Do you feel the fire in your veins, the tightness in your throat? Speakagainst the king, act to harm him, and my cursed poison will finish what I started today.’ I released him and turned to Irsha. ‘We’re done here.’
Our target was crawling on his hands and knees, heading towards his wife, but his eyes were already glazing over with the first hallucination. I gave him one last, assessing look as I closed the door, hoping tomorrow’s council meeting would prove this gamble worth it.
My actions tonight made me sick. Physically sick. I needed to get out of this place, away from the hatred in Yaran’s words and my own doubts. I sped up, taking two stairs at a time until we reached the boy’s room. He was still sleeping soundly, with a gentle smile tugging at his lips. A little boy whose life I’d threatened to ensure his father’s compliance. My stomach rebelled, and I heaved, leaving Irsha to help me climb down the wall.
The moment we cleared the mansion’s grounds, I ripped the mask off my face and leaned over a small stone wall, emptying my stomach, but nothing could purge the sense of disgust.
‘Sana?’ The warmth of Irsha’s hand, gently stroking my back, radiated even through thick winter clothing.
