No, this has the newest Archpriest of Nuhav’s stain.
What have you done, you despicable piece of shit?
We follow the group of seven—three priests, four parishioners—to the gates of Nuhav. No one tries to stop them from going through, of course, because there are no longer any sentinels here.
As we draw away from any streets or crowd, I get the feeling the priests realize they’re being followed. They hurry their pace, heading east from the gate, up an incline, and not toward the main trade route that leads up the Olhavian Peaks.
Just how we did when we found a cave entrance to the west, to cut through Olhav’s districts and appear in the North Mines past the Peaks, the priests find a cave entrance to the east. Our path led us through the Commerce and Military Wards. These tunnels, logically . . . will lead them to the Faith Ward.
We stop a hundred paces back, behind some trees, watching as the group huddles into the cave. “Can we kill them yet?” I snarl.
My men ignore me. They know not to press me when I’m activated like this, because I’m not seeing clearly.
“Graybird?” Skar mutters.
Garroway nods firmly. “I have Skent’s scent locked in. Shouldn’t be too hard to find a friend to watch them as they traverse the caves.”
We settle within the copse of trees so Garroway can sit and put his back against a trunk. The rest of us either pace or stand over him. My nerves are frayed, and I can’t stop flexing and knotting my hands into fists.
An hour passes. Then two. I’m growing more untenable, more restless, with every passing minute. “We can’t let Garroway reach too far,” I say, regarding Garro, then scowling at Skar. “We’ve seen what happens when we stretch his beast-charming past its limits.”
Garroway opens his eyes less than a minute later. He’s covered with sweat. We kneel in front of the dazed dhampir, who takes a moment to catch his breath, come back to us, and recognize where he is.
“It’s confirmed,” he croaks. “The human priests were allowed entry into the Faith Ward, unmolested. They took Skent and the others to Overlady Valenthia Yurlyth.”
Chapter 45
Sephania
The Firehold falls into chaos when I arrive like a hurricane, bursting into the main chamber that evening.
The first thing we do is mobilize the army. Or whatever army I have at my disposal. I throw my arms left and right, calling out orders, dispatching specific Grimsons I know can get the job done. “Filgy! Find Captain Rirth wherever he is in the fucking city and tell him we need the Silverknights. Now.”
“Yes ma’am!” the crier runs off.
I turn to a tall girl, nearly twenty winters aged, named Talma. She’s the sister of the short lad, Besho, who always annoys her. “Talm, can you and your brother get around without being seen?”
“Better than most, Lady Lock.” Talma is all business. She has short hair to her ears, bobbed, and brushes it behind her ears.
“Find Skar and take a shadow portal to the eastern countryside near Olhav. Do whatever you can to find Zefyra or get word to her. Tell our comrade we need to round up as many of her allies as she can, and tell her to bring her troops to the northern section of the Faith Ward. We’ll be coming up from the south.”
Talma salutes. “Consider it done. Come on, Besh. And don’t whine.”
Iron Sister Keffa sits on a bench nearby, watching me lose my mind and bark orders at people. “You think Sister Talma is right for that job, Mistress Lock? Sounds like an important one.”
I turn to the leathery old woman, who has been growing older and frailer by the day, it feels, showing less and less of herself ever since protecting the Sisters aboveground with remarkable martial prowess. “She can handle it, Iron Sister. You trained her personally, did you not?”
Her thin lips crack into a half-smile. “Makes her cherished to me. But yes.”
“Then she’s the right person for the job. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
I whisk past Keffa and barge into the alchemical room. “Mother!”
She looks up, startled, from a table where three other Chained Sisters are hovering, analyzing their newest batch of Silverblood. “Yes, dear daughter?”
I curl my fingers at her. “Give me as much Silverblood as I can carry. We might need it tonight.”
Her face twists. “They’re not arrows to be chucked at people, Sephania. What could you possibly use—”