Page 67 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

‘The kingdoms, their loyalties, are reversed,’ I hissed. Just like those muddying reports we used to receive in Vosgaarde that always twisted conflicts or pressures and turned the direction from which they came… ‘But is it a code simply to hide location? Or something deeper?’

I dropped the paper back to the table and stared up at Bren, who frowned at it from my side.

I shook my head. ‘This is… God, I wish I’d memorized those other reports we had—for months! There were so many like this, that seemed to flip locations or intentions when compared with others… now it makes sense.’

At least, to a point. Something about this made sense. But it was one puzzle piece clicking into place, in a sea of missing pieces.

I pushed to my feet and began to pace, turning details over in my mind, desperately trying to remember all the reports I’d received while still at home, each with this oddly shifting tone, and confusingly different take on events. I wish I had memorized them. We never took reports out of the Keep, and burned any received in the field.

But now…

‘Is it only the locations? We need more. We need to find ways to get more of his reports—and to intercept any he receives in return. See how the statements change, which pieces are coded and which should be taken as read.’

Bren nodded, her eyes still on the parchment. ‘And we need to burn this.’

I turned back to look at her and it struck me…

Ruin had spoken to the queen about Bren.

It was difficult to discern what would be shifted in this message, and what wouldn’t. This code, if it existed, was one I’d never been taught, and that in itself was startling if it was known to the queen. I’d never trusted her motives, but she’d always trusted me, and seemed genuinely interested in helping Bren. And had, in fact, helped. Yet…

My head spun. I had no trouble believing Diaan would work against Bren. But against Alexi? I couldn’t see it. The two were a force—no matter how their personal relationship might deviate from anything I’d choose. They had stood at each other’s sides against other kingdoms, against pressure from war, against cultural norms… He always brought her in to review any strategic plan he proposed.

And if the messages from the informants were going to her, only to be given to him, that would mean he was fine with outing Bren.

Then I slumped. Of course he was. I remembered his insistence to me when he’d secretly sent her to uncover enemy forces off our border. If she was discovered, it was no loss..

Whatever Alexi might see as her potential, he didn’t value it in the long term. She was not an asset he protected. She was a commodity to be used up.

God, I wanted to throttle my king, but I pushed the anger and personal affront back. He had always been pragmatic to a fault. But the question now was, what purpose did he believe Bren served? Alexi had always wanted her here.

That he trusted Ruin was no surprise.

Was Ruin the mole after all?

I muttered a curse. It was like trying to see through shifting fog—only tiny pieces visible at any given moment, and none fitting with the others.

I cast my mind back to that message Ruin had written and handed to Horace.

There’d been no title on the envelope, the network delivering it knew their purpose and target. It would be taken to the Palace in Vosgaarde and… and given to the Master of the House—the trusted servant who managed all the king and queen’s affairs.

He would, of course, rush the message to the queen the moment it was opened.

I was glad I’d rushed that message back out—we wanted Diann to get orders back to Ruin. But now I had a new problem.

I didn’t yet know who was key to this, or what they planned. But I knew this message would eventually end up in the king’s purvey—and he would see what I did. His eyes would be turned to Bren. With Diaan at his side to speak whatever scheme she had concocted, in his ear.

And without me to counter it with reason, when it came to Bren.

The conviction settled in my chest like a weight on my ribs.

I needed to send a message as well. As directly and swiftly back to Vosgaarde as possible.

But not to the queen.

Without a word, I tore at the buttons of my grand coat that I’d been about to wear to the banquet, hurrying across the room to my drawers to retrieve leathers.

“Donavyn, what—”