He puts up a hand to stop me. “He let us pass.” Then his hand lowers and his face twists. “He also told you to . . . what was the quote, my big brute?”
“‘Tell Sephania not to stick her nose where it’s not wanted.’ Something to that effect.”
Vallan’s words punch me in the gut, turning me into a hollow shell.He . . . said that? Maybe Jinneth was right. Perhaps Rirth has gotten too big for his britches. What kind of monster did I create when giving him that silver dagger and a glimmer of hope?
I shake my head, trying to act like the words don’t squeeze my heart in two and break me. Swallowing hard over a knot in my throat, I say, “We’ll deal with Rirth later. What’s clear is this: We have pockets of allies everywhere, which is good. They’re scattered, which is bad.”
Garroway slides off the wall. There’s a peculiar look on his face, roguish and regal.
“What?” I squeak.
“Go on, honey badger. I like when you get strategic.”
My left brow rises. “The strangest things turn you on, cub.” I wave my hands to try and ignore the lustful expression on his grinning face. “Helget’s people in the northeast valley, Tymon’s soldiers south, the Chained Sisters here, the Gilded Ghosts in the Commerce Ward. We need to congregate our forces. We need central leadership.”
Vallan nods along, running a hand through his beard. His frame is entirely too large for the small chair he’s sitting on. It looks ready to crack under his weight. “Assembling our allies in a single space puts us in danger of being discovered by Overlord Aramastun. En masse.”
He’s right. I just don’t think it can be stopped. “The Night Judge will find us sooner or later, regardless. I’d rather we’reunified when it happens, not dispersed. We have a better chance with numbers.”
Garroway pouts. “Being apart gives us more fluidity to work with.”
My right brow rises this time. “Fluidity, Garro?”
He shrugs high. “Master Skar would probably say something like that. What I mean is, if our main force is crushed, we will still have pockets of allies to build reinforcements. The war won’t be lost in one fell swoop. Just the battle.”
“You’re assuming welosethe battle in the first place,” Vallan says.
Spirits and deities, I hate to think it, but like Garro alluded to, I wish Skartovius was here right now. He’s the strategist of the group. He’d be asking the right questions.
My thoughts drift to the half-brothers I sent away.I hope he and Lukain are able to get things done—not just with Liolen Sesk and Zefyra, but also with each other. Maybe, at the very least, being apart from me will make them realize their squabbles are pointless and I’m the only thing that matters to them.
I smile at the silly, narcissistic thought. I don’tactuallybelieve I’m the—
“What’s that crazed smile for, lass?” Garroway asks.
His voice brings me back to the dark cave, and I quickly frown. “Sorry.”
“We’re undecided as to our next plan of action,” Vallan says with a customary grunt at the end of it. He sounds exasperated—or at least as frustrated as the stoic, quiet sentinel can be without falling into his bloodrage.
In an attempt to bring it full circle, I say, “One thing is certain,” which draws their rapt attention. “We’ll need Rirth on our side to win against the Three Ministries.”
“He wants nothing to do with you, lass,” Garro says quietly, ducking his head and fearing my reprisal. “He made that quite clear. I think the only reason he let us pass without more bloodshed was so we could deliver that message.”
I breathe deeply, hold it, and let the stress of our predicament out my nose slowly. “Then we need to make him realize he needs us as much as we need him.”
“Doeshe?”
“We’ll paint a pretty picture.”
Vallan mutters, “I can’t paint for shit.”
I roll my eyes.
An ample shadow takes space in the doorway, cutting out the flickering torchlight from the cavern hallway beyond. Jinneth crosses her arms, inspecting us. “Done colluding, you three?”
“Why, what’s going on, Mother?”
“While you’re discussing future plans, we need to talk about the present.”