Page 106 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

I always left our bedroom door unlatched in case I had to sneak out in the night so I wouldn’t wake her. But I’d locked the suite last night when her brothers left. For someone to be in here they had to have picked it.

I slinked up to the door, putting one eye to the crack to peer through, searching for the position of our intruder—a thief, or an assassin? We’d both remained silent. I prayed they didn’t realize we were awake.

Turning slowly to view different areas of the room beyond, I tensed when a tall, male shadow hurried across the floor on silent feet—how the fuck did this guy move so quickly without making a sound?

Raising a hand in the signal for her to stay still, so Bren would know I’d seen him, I curled the fingers of my free hand over the edge of the door, preparing to swing it open while his back was to me—praying it would be silent and give me that much more time to sneak up behind him—only to freeze with the door mere inches open, when the intruder struck a match and lit the candle above the mantle of the fireplace to light the room—and see Voski’s form set aglow.

“Well, shit,” I muttered, sighing out the tension. “It’s Voski.”

I threw the door wide as he turned. His eyes widening when he took in the sight of me, naked and furious, in the doorway, one hand clawed to hold it open, the other grasping a blade.

“Next time, we use a signal,” I growled.

Voski scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, sir, I thought the light would reassure you, but this couldn’t wait. I got the codes.”

I blinked, my heart still trying to pound out of my chest. “You… what?”

Voski smiled grimly. “Bren was right. Our friend took a very early morning trip to the city. Our brother watched for me. It took some time—he had traps set on his hiding places, so he’d know if he was searched. I think I left them intact. But… the point is… I got it. I copied everything he’d saved. I thought you’d want to know right away.”

“Of course we do!” Bren hushed, pushing out of the room under my arm… still in just my thin sleep shirt. Voski’s eyes went round, then he found a reason to turn back to the mantle, fumbling to light another taper to carry to other candles in the room.

I caught Bren’s elbow and she turned, frowning. “What—”

“I think we should both dress,” I said through my teeth.

Her eyes widened, then she rolled her lips like she was hiding a smile. “Right. Of course.”

A minute later, the sitting room blazing with light because Voski had lit the lanterns as well, we sat around the low table between the chairs and couch, pouring over the notes, all of us frowning.

Voski, wisely anticipating that stolen material would quickly be missed, had taken paper and pencils into the room with him—but that meant he’d had to trace everything he found. Which must have taken some time, because there were now several pieces of paper, and a very twitchy Furyknight in front of me.

“What have you learned in the process?” I asked him, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

“I’ve learned that our friend still struggles with letters and numbers. All of this should have been memorized, then burned. If he told you he’d kept nothing except old, coded messages that couldn’t help anyone, I think he lied. It’s possible they didn’t find his notes, I suppose. He hides it all well—I might not have found it if I hadn’t seen him check the spot.”

I nodded. “But the codes themselves?”

“I’ve never seen these before, sir.”

I met eyes with the man, shocked. “None of them?”

“None,” he affirmed.

I took a moment to let that sink in.

Bren looked back and forth between us. “That’s significant?” she asked quietly.

I nodded and let my gaze fall back to the scribbles, words, and phrases in front of me. “Yes, very,” I said darkly. “The Shadowfang code is standard so we can signal each other, even if we cross paths on different missions—it’s entirely possible that a member, or even a team might develop something between themselves in the field, but for reports and intelligence, it’s crucial to use coding that can be interpreted correctly back home.”

“And between Furyknights,” Voski added with a strange look at me. He cleared his throat and turned back to Bren. “If someone in the field is hurt or goes missing, or needs to communicate with their allies… everyone needs to know so they can decode any messages left to warn them. The only reason to make a new code is to obscure information from other Shadowfang.”

“Or because you don’t trust them and think you need to communicate without their interference,” I muttered.

Voski met my gaze. “Or because whoever is receiving your missives wants them hidden from everyone, including your team.”

I nodded. It could be any of those reasons. Or all of them.

Shit.