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“But you won a Ravinian gauntlet,” Theo was saying. “Which means you’re a good match for him. A good match for any fighter in the world. Come. There’s food waiting for your soldiers in the main hall. We’ve set up all the waxway candles there. I’m pretty sure we bought every stub and wick within fifty miles. It’s all arranged. If you’ll come to the library with me, I can walk you through a layout of the estate and what I know of Thugar’s fighting style.”
Dahvid accepted. He continued to tiptoe warily through their conversation. Never answering a question with two words when one would do. He and Nevelyn had discussed this matter before she’d left for Kathor. Ren Monroe was playing her own game. It wasn’t hard to imagine what she’d envisioned for herself at the end of all of this. Landwin, Thugar, and Tessa Brood would all die.
The Broods were ancient creatures. Their ancestral line would demand that the reins of House Brood be handed not to Landwin’s wife but to his oldest child. Theo Brood would be the last remaining heir. Ren Monroe wanted to burn down the parts of the house she didn’t like but planned on keeping a few of the rooms in proper order, so that she could rule what rose from the ashes. That had never been their plan—and could never be their plan. No Brood would be permitted to survive.
“This map is a little old,” Theo said as they sat down at a table in the library. They were alone. Almost. Dahvid sensed the castellan watching from the hallway. “You can see where I’ve made changes to match the most recent renovations. It’s important to know there aren’t just wards along the outer wall, but some sections of the interior house are also warded. At least one of those castles will need to be secured as soon as you enter.…”
For a time, Theo Brood trotted through everything like a trained hound. He shared insights Dahvid couldn’t have learned anywhere else and kept looking up with such great expectation. The boy was hoping for respect. He wanted a fine clap on the back for his betrayal. Dahvid nodded along, making mental notes, but he refused to give Theo Brood the satisfaction of feeling like they were on the same team, fighting for the same cause. Had Theo burned with hatred for the last decade? Did he thrash awake at night, always imagining the smell of smoke in the air? What had he done to earn a seat at the same table as the Tin’Voris?
“Very good,” Dahvid said, when they finished. “I would be alone for a time. I’d like to study all of this. I might even sleep for a little, if you don’t mind. This chair is more comfortable than any of the beds I’ve slept in since I was a boy.”
It was intended as a subtle blow. The two of them were close in age. While Dahvid had run from town to town, scraping out a survival, Theo Brood had grown up in gilded comfort. On the night his father and brother raided their home, where had he been? Practicing his spells in a family library, safe as the day he was born? Theo simply stood and nodded.
“Of course. I’ll see to your soldiers.”
Dahvid leaned back in his chair and pretended to close his eyes. The pretense felt so fine, though, that he nearly gave in. He could have slept for a year in that chair. The march had not been kind to a body that was still recovering. His wounds were stitched or healed, but even the best spells in the world could not make a man whole overnight. He would be lucky to feel seventy percent of his proper self by the time they reached the Brood estate.
There was a rustle near the door. He kept his eyes closed, but a smile began to creep over his face. “I heard you a few minutes ago. Your shirt brushed against one of the outcropping stones. You’ve gotten sloppy.”
A knife slammed down into the wood between his thumb and forefinger, narrowly missing the skin. Dahl was there, glowering down at him. The library door was shut. It was just the two of them. He carefully slid his hand away from the wobbling blade and rose to his feet.
“You’ve gotten taller, Sister.”
She smiled at him. “I was just about to say you looked shorter, Brother.”
He snaked forward for a hug. It was a surprise when Ava didn’t dodge or elbow him away. Instead, she met his hug with her own fierce embrace. He knew it was a sign of how much she’d missed him, how much they’d missed each other. It had been nearly two years since she’d departed from them in Peska. Prepared to carry out her part in their grand scheme. That had been before Ren Monroe. Ava had been positioned this entire time to take care of their needs in Nostra. She was still well positioned. Clearly, Theo Brood had no idea who she actually was.
When they pulled away, they were both grinning.
“I guess I can finally stop visiting your grave.”
“Oh? Was that a terrible burden for you?” Ava snarked back. “You must have been through such an ordeal living in a city with restaurants and theaters and warm showers. I will make sure I pray for your swift recovery, dear Brother. At least you weren’t, I don’t know, stationed in the most godforsaken castle in existence.”
Dahvid smiled. He’d missed her more than he realized.
“Well, we have a change in plans.”
“No shit. Theo Brood’s been setting up waxway travel for the army that’s going to try to murder his family. Feels like a slight departure from what we’d discussed.”
“It is. And the next part will be too,” Dahvid said. “I need you to remain here.”
Ava looked mortally offended. “Why?”
In the quiet of that library, he explained everything.
35 NEVELYN TIN’VORI
Nevelyn had overlooked a single detail.
She’d lowered herself into the dress. The installed harness caught her waist and tightened around her hips, and she hung there, completely suspended in midair. The cables were more than up to the task of keeping her aloft. No matter how she bounced or stretched or moved, she could not even come close to reaching the floor with her feet. She hadn’t activated the binding spell yet either, which would limit her movement even more. All of her calculations were perfect except for the ladder.
She’d made a small leap to get down into the dress, and that movement left the ladder just out of reach. She was attempting to rock herself in that direction, lashing out with a kick to knock it away, when the door to her apartment stuttered open. Nevelyn stared at the gap, a thousand warnings ready to spring from her lips.
It was Garth who peeked around the corner. His eyes widened as he drank in the scene. A dress dangling from the ceiling would have been odd enough, but to find her dangling inside it was an entirely new level of strange. He edged into the room like someone who’d spotted a rare bird in the forest and didn’t want to startle it away.
“Nevelyn… are you okay? Do you need help?”
She supposed that it did appear as if she’d been bound by someone. Not to mention her foot was still bleeding a little. Before she could respond, however, a second realization cut through the first, like an arrow splitting a tossed apple.
