“Hold on, I never forget a face.” The barmaid’s face lights up. “From House Eternal, right?”
My stomach turns. I can tell Eban is looking at me but I can’t move. I’m frozen. “I…”
“I used to work there, too,” the woman says. “Silva. That’s my name. Do you remember me?”
Silva. Rollo’s maid who delivered me breakfast every morning. The one he trusted with his secrets. She doesn’t seem to remember that I didn’t work there, but was hidden in his room. Before I answer, Silva says, “I work for House Dominant now. Lord Rollo found a better situation for me. When I’m not here, that is.” Figures. Many Ophir take one or two or three servile gigs just to be able to afford to eat gruel and keep a tin roof over our heads.
At least she doesn’t remember where she knows me exactly. It feels like hundreds of pounds of pressure leave my body. But hearing Rollo’s name is painful. It reminds me of all I’d lost. Eban saves me. “How are the holiday preparations going? At House Dominant, I mean? Lady Emilia means to best Lady Ariadne’s Liberation Day Ball?”
“Oh, you know it. Lady Emilia can’t stop talking about how her Liberation Day party will be the one everyone talks about. Yeah, it’s busy, as usual. I was there today making deliveries for the feast. Still more tomorrow.”
“Is your lady still looking for help?”
“Oh yes, she’s already fretting that she doesn’t have enough footmen and kitchen maids. She needs far more than usual, even,” Silva adds. “I think this party is going to be the biggest Lacon has ever seen. They say there’s even going to be a tournament. Are you two interested in getting work?”
“Yes, if jobs are still open?” Eban asks.
“I think they’re still looking for people to work in the storeroom. There’s a lot of heavy lifting to be done down there and so those are hard to fill.”
“Jobs in the storeroom, huh?” Eban says mildly. “Would that be underground… near the vault, perhaps?” A daring question and I hold my breath.
Silva looks at him intently before replying. She looks around, then leans down, lowering her voice. “Yes, near the vault… It’s heavily guarded, though. I’d use a lot of caution, if I were going down there.”
Eban nods.
She hesitates, as if she’s fighting an internal battle, then shakes her head at herself. “You’re Eban, aren’t you? You used to work with Vergel.”
“Yes.” Eban’s cheek twitches.
“I thought so. He was a good boy, Vergel. He was from the southern garrets, like me. I knew his family, when they were alive, that is. You should be careful,” she says. “There’s still a bounty on your head and word is that it’s quadrupled. Whatever you did, I’ve never seen the Blackcoats so riled up.” She looks around again, making sure no one’s watching. “I don’t want to know what you’re planning and it’s best if I don’t. But I will tell you there’s another way into the vault. A passageway from a tunnel through the cliffs, hidden in a cove only accessible from the sea.”
Eban raises his eyebrows and leans forward. “Is there now?”
“House Dominant has underground tunnels that only the servants use, and they lead straight to the vault.”
“What did you lose to the Lacon?” Eban asks.
Silva’s eyes dim. “My brother. He stole an orange from a cart meant for Lady Emilia’s table. One orange. He was a child. They beat him to death.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, but it’s not enough. Nothing will ever be enough.
“Don’t be sorry,” Silva says. She reaches out and grabs my hand. “Avenge him instead.”
“We’ll give you a cut, of course,” Eban says. “Of whatever we take.”
“That’s fine,” Silva says, leaning back in her seat again. “If you make it out alive. Honestly, watching them get cleaned out is enough pay for me.” She motions her head to the back room of the pub. “I’ve been skimming off the top as it is. I’ll get whatever I can out of these monsters.”
Before we leave, Eban presses a few silver takas into Silva’s hand and thanks her.
She pockets them and nods. “Like I said. I don’t need thanks. Just revenge.”
As we leave the pub, I stop cold. Eban walks a few steps ahead before he realizes I’m not following him and turns around. “What is it?” He scans our surroundings, looking for the threat.
I wasn’t sure at first, but yes, it’s definitely him.
A young aristocrat, holding an automated dog in his arms.
Rollo.
