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“I came to make a very simple request of you,” Marquette said.
The two of them began walking up a beautifully paved road. On their right, the gray castles, brightened by sunlight. Ahead, a small battalion of soldiers running sprints.
“I am always grateful for the opportunity to prove myself. What can I do?”
“Do not sever your bond with my son.”
Nothing could have been more startling. Ren actually tripped over her own feet and had to throw out both hands to keep from falling. Marquette looked at her with quiet, pleading eyes.
“Do not break his heart. Do not listen to any of them. Have courage, dear.”
With those seditious words in the air between them, Theo’s mother turned and began walking up the path again. Quietly she led Ren straight into the heart of the Broods’ kingdom. It was a mark of bravery that she’d said what she’d said. A clear departure from Landwin’s own plans and a sign that she actually did love her exiled son. Ren almost felt bad. Marquette thought she was playing a risky game by undermining their coming conversation. She had no idea that another game was already halfway finished and that she’d just led the wolf in through the front door.
34 DAHVID TIN’VORI
A son of House Brood met them at the mountain gate.
Dahvid marked him as the youngest. Ren Monroe’s bondmate and their supposed confidant. Theo Brood was tall and gaunt, handsome in a way that felt tragic. It reminded Dahvid of the tale about the old dragon, Promethean, who was cursed in the stories to become a wild, ravenous creature for just a single minute of each year. The curse was that he could not know when that minute would come—and no matter how he prepared, the results were always devastating. All the good he’d done, unwound and destroyed in less than a breath. Theo had that look to him. A man who was in perfect control until he wasn’t.
There was a girl striding a few steps behind him. She had very short hair and very large eyes. Dahvid nodded to her and could not help looking back a few times as the expressions on her face shifted. Brood walked forward and extended a pale hand in greeting.
“I’m Theo Brood. This is my castellan, Dahl Winters. We’ve been hard at work preparing the way for you and your soldiers.”
Dahvid felt soured as he reached out and accepted the handshake. Agreeing to work with a Brood felt like a trap—or at the very least like a dirty sort of compromise. On that fateful night all those years ago, the Broods had not planned to spare any of them. Ware was taken to their estate by Thugar Brood, where he was killed and buried. The other three children—the youngest of which was just seven years old—were assumed to be on the escape boat with their parents. The one that had been burned out at sea. There were no survivors on that ship. They had not shown any mercy then, and it felt strange to leave Theo alive in this mountain castle. The idea stirred uneasily in his mind, but his father had always taught him to not ruffle any feathers until he had both hands around the chicken’s neck. For now, he would play nice.
Introductions were in order. He brought Cath forward, and then the acting generals he’d appointed. They were a merciless lot. A bunch of hardened veterans who’d do anything for the promise of more wealth, and there was nothing quite so tempting as sacking a major Kathorian house. Dahvid only wished he’d been there to oversee the fulfillment of Darling’s granting of his wish.
He’d awoken on the warlord’s estate. Cath had been asleep on a corner cot. Darling visited him once, to inform him the soldiers were stationed and ready to march, down on one of his private beaches. He informed Dahvid there would be no exchanges, no bartering, nothing at all. He was to march the chosen soldiers out before dawn. It was clear that Darling had carefully held back his favorites and his own captains during the selection process. All the men were from the correct companies, at least, but they weren’t the soldiers he might have chosen. It would have to suffice.
Theo turned to lead them back through the gate.
“I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting you to win,” he said. “The gauntlet couldn’t have been easy.”
Dahvid’s eyes flicked between Theo and Dahl. He wasn’t sure how much to divulge.
“No. It wasn’t easy.”
“Ren asked me to brief you. On my brother.”
The snow crunched beneath their feet as they passed through a courtyard and into a mostly defunct hall. The floorboards possessed a long-faded beauty. Cobwebs hung in every corner. He couldn’t believe they had lived here for the past few months.
“You would provide information on your own family?”
It was more of an accusation than was strictly necessary. Dahvid didn’t care.
“I have always felt that my family could change. That we could learn from our history, correct our mistakes, and begin writing an entirely new legacy. I’ve believed that since I was a little boy. Thugar believes the opposite. He wants to be a symbol of our past—and all of its cruelties.” Theo glanced over to Dahvid. His eyes did not flick nervously away. He held Dahvid’s glare with great intention. “On our estate, there is a tree. It has red-tipped leaves and a black trunk. The wind, when it blows from the west, does not touch its branches. Our own hired gardeners are not allowed to prune it. Only Thugar tends to that tree. He visits it often, because it is the tree that grew from the grave he dug nearly a decade ago.”
I will plant you in the ground.
Those were the words Dahvid had heard Thugar speak. Rage trembled through his hands and his bones, and it was difficult to resist making Theo pay for the sins of his family. They’d heard of the tree, though he’d always dismissed it as folklore. Now he knew it was true—and he knew that the only man who’d visited his brother’s spirit was his worst enemy. Day after day. Year after year.
It was a trespass he would not forgive.
“Your brother will answer for what he has done.”
Theo nodded. “My brother has two functionary roles on our estate. First, he’s there to grant access to people who need to enter the estate from Kathor. Only a Brood can do that. But the rest of the time, he trains. Dueling with some of the best generals and fighters that have ever walked the earth. I do not have any love for my brother, but I am not fool enough to think less of his talent. I promise you one thing: he will not be easy to kill.”
Dahvid said nothing. He’d suspected as much and now felt even more naked without his tattoos properly restored. The scarlet traveler was a shadow on his chest. It probably looked like a proper tattoo to the untrained eye, but it would not be battle-ready for weeks. He would be without his most valuable weapon and without the twins, which had a longer restoration time as well. The rest of the arsenal would have to be enough.
