He chivvied us out, and Elvin and I leapt down the stairs first. I would not let him pick where we were about to fight. Ambrose fell behind and the moment we stepped outside, Elvin spoke in a low, urgent hiss. “Gil, I know what’s going on. My mother already told me. She told me everything. Let me win the fight so Ambrose trusts me.”
“No,” I snapped, prepared to fight, but as the light from the inn hit Elvin’s face, I lost my composure. He looked a little like Lochlan.
“Gil, please,” Elvin whispered. “Ambrose won’t trust you, and I’ve been earning his trust for more than a year. He won’t take you there, but if he thinks I’m there to protect him…”
I hesitated. As much as I disliked Elvin, he had a point. Ambrose would never just waltz me right to the Employer because I sprung him from prison.
“If you double-cross me, I’ll kill you then bring you back to life just so I can kill you again,” I said, fire blazing from my eyes.
Ambrose was stumbling down the stairs and being forcefully thrown from the inn.
Elvin grabbed at my hands. “I’ve got her, Ambrose! I’ve got her!”
“And stay out!” the innkeeper bellowed, then slammed the door.
“What-what do you meanher?” Ambrose puffed.
“Didn’t you see the reward posters that the Nightsworn put up recently? Our little Gil is actually a woman,” Elvin sneered.
Shoals, how I despised him. If this plan didn’t work…
I gave a dramatic tug on my hands, but Elvin held me fast. There was a moment when I imagined what Lochlan would do if he saw his brother manhandling me, and wished he was here.He would knock Elvin flat just like he did to the men in that alleyway.
“Well done,” Ambrose said, still panting for breath. “Well done, Elvin. Now, how would you like to come with me to deliver Gil to the Employer? It would mean a nice bounty for you.”
“Sounds good to me,” Elvin said with that same slap-worthy smirk on his face. “I’ll be glad to be rid of Gil.”
Ambrose beamed. “Then follow me. I think you’ve proven yourself worthy.”
Dawn led to mid-morning,and around that time, the road left the city and wound into the foothills surrounding the Briarcliff Mountains. I gave several more overly predictable attempts at freeing myself, and Ambrose chuckled so often that I was tempted to actually break free simply so I could punch him. To distract myself, I kept looking ahead, squinting to see if I could see a dark figure lurking near one of the aqueduct maintenance tunnels. I’d heard of desperate, unpredictable people who congregated in those tunnels, eager to do the rat-infested sewer work that no one else was willing to. Could the Employer be one of them?
But then Ambrose turned off the road and instead of heading for the maintenance tunnels, he veered off to pass through large iron gates that had white and pink painted roses designed into the metalwork. Beyond the gates, a grand estate sprawled out, neatly trimmed and well maintained.
Roses covered delicate trellis archways dotted throughout the gardens, a dancing water fountain splashed down, and several girls who looked like prime pickpocketing targetsstrolled between the flower beds or sat on carved stone benches beneath trees, reading quietly or conversing in whispers.
This looked like the sort of place where spoiled rich girls came for tea parties and dancing lessons, not where the head of the Syndicate lived.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Elvin asked. “You said we were going to see the Employer.”
“Yes,” Ambrose answered confidently. “The Employer is here.”
I blinked hard, sure my mind was playing tricks on me.
“And where ishere?” Elvin asked
“Rosehaven Hall,” Ambrose said.
Rosehaven Hall… Memories snapped into place. The girls from the cemetery on the Day of Mourning were pupils there. But my confusion increased.
“The Employer ishere?” Elvin asked, still keeping a firm grasp on my hands.
I couldn’t help but stare at the girls as we passed. Several gave us strange looks, clearly wondering why three ill-dressed people were traipsing through their beautiful gardens with me being forcibly detained. None of them even looked old enough to be out of school, and certainly not old enough to be heading up the entire Syndicate. One girl looked tough and mean, but still too young. The Employer had been operating for more than thirty years.
Then again, Peter Pan looked young but was more dangerous than most criminals I’d encountered, and everyone assumed I was far younger than I actually was. Who was I to judge based on appearance?
“The Employer can explain,” Ambrose said in his wheezy voice. He went around the perimeter of the manor house to a door nearly hidden by ivy and knocked.
“Enter,” a musical female voice called.
