Page 72 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

“It’s a good place to start,” she said. She added the addresses to the other officials they had found information for.

Nore went back to the other task she had on hand: writing letters of introduction for when the contact details materialized. She was confident in her wares and her business, and she would send each enquiry with a sample. There was no reason for them to turn her down unless it truly was a matter of security, and she would give them no reason to doubt that.

So why were her hands shaking?

Nore put the pen down. Stretched her hands. Caspian glanced up at her, catching her eye. “You should rest,” he said. “Terlo and I can start research on the artifact, if it’s no bother to them.”

Nore did not want to leave Caspian and Terlo alone—anything he found out about the artifact, she wanted to know, too—but she recognized that she was the least knowledgeable person in this room.

Besides, there was something else she needed to do.

“Gail,” she said as she finished sealing her letters. “Walk with me.”

He looked up from the correspondence he was working on—probably something he thought was very important but was actually hopelessly dull—with some alarm. “I’m actually feeling rather—”

“It’s not a request,” Nore said firmly.

She knew Caspian well enough to hear his soft laugh, even when he tried to cover it.

Gail must have realized there was little other choice. He put on his cloak and followed Nore back through the now-dark library, out onto the street. She started in the direction of the sea, where it was most likely a messenger post would be located.

She needed to be careful how this conversation proceeded. Though she wanted to unleash the full extent of her fury, she still needed Gail on her side—after all, they were in a vulnerable position. If they did make it to the Isle’s festivities to recover the artifact, she could not have an enemy there to put her and Caspian at risk.

“I am trying to understand why you would put us in a position where we have a distinct disadvantage,” Nore said. She dug her hands into the pockets of her coat, tightening into fists, nails biting into her palms as an outlet for her annoyance.

Gail hesitated, as if he had expected her anger and been more willing to deal with that. “I was honest in what I said before,” he said. “You have been useful, yes—and I’m sure I will have use for you on the Isle, too, should you make it. But I cannot be seen to be entangled with you and your business, especially if your Caspian raises the High Lady’s suspicions.”

Nore felt the flush rising in her cheeks. “Yes, I understand that,” she said. “But that doesn’t explain why you wouldn’t tell us that in the first place. We could’ve solved this a week ago.”

“Dove gave me no indication it would be a problem,” Gail said, and Nore could sense his exasperation—and also, oddly, embarrassment.

She thought back to their discussions previously. How Gail barely cared how his messages were delivered and left her to clean up evidence of what they were doing. How he didn’t care to hide his analysis from her or, earlier, their entire plan from Terlo.

But there was something Nore wasn’t considering: there was the chance that none of this had been malicious. That it was just a genuine mistake. That Gail had expected them to already have a way to the Isle or some other solution because he was used to not caring about the logistics of things—or because he was just bad at his job.

Nore had a lot of experience working with spies who didn’t have their feet under them yet—but in Dove’s employ, one had to be a quick learner. There was not room for genuine incompetence. But this, this was incompetence.

Nore tipped her head back and looked at the dark, cloudy sky. There was a messenger post up ahead, just as she’d suspected, and she was ready to be done with this conversation and out of the cold.

“Okay,” she said. There was no other alternative.

“Nore,” Gail said, hesitating, that expression of embarrassment flickering again. “I am sorry. I don’t always express it well—I hate to be reminded, sometimes, that I am not the best when it comes to plotting.”

It was an understatement.

“It’s over now,” Nore said. “We only need to see it through and hope for the best.” He was not forgiven, but she could not count on his help again if he knew she was angry with him.

Relief washed over his face. “Well, that is good. And—” He stopped, retrieving a letter from his pocket. “If you’re sending your letters, this is for your Dove. Something she wanted.”

“Thank you,” Nore said through her teeth. She could see the loops of his writing showing through the thin paper; he’d used whatever the scholar had in their office. She would need to rewrite the whole thing in cipher on better paper with a more effective seal before she sent it on to Celestine.

“I’ll see you back at the inn,” Gail said, turning around and heading the way they’d come.

It was an absurd fee to send the letters to Locke with the fastest delivery possible, but Nore paid it. She sent another letter to Kota and an update to Celestine—sans Gail’s letter, which she had to deal with herself.

Caspian was still absent when she returned to the inn. She was truly alone for the first time in ages, without the threat of interruption. Nore took a deep breath, leaning back against the door, letting her head fall back against the wood. She didn’t know if she could trust Caspian to relay what he and Terlo discussed—but this entire mission was a question of how much she could or couldn’t trust Caspian.

Nore went to her bag. She found the side compartment where Celestine always kept her most valuable artifacts and withdrew one of the two smooth glass orbs. It was colorless at the edges and oddly milky at the center, swirling with opalescent shimmer. Nore knelt in front of the grate and coaxed the fire to life, then to a steady burn. When it was hot enough, she took the tongs and nestled the orb inside.