I clear my throat as she reaches the open cave entrance. She slowly turns when I chuckle. “Funny you should call me too virtuous, Mother. Because everyone else seems to think I’ve been corrupted beyond repair.”
By week four of our agreement with Overliege Liolen Sesk, we are no longer allowed entry. Our bags of silver had gotten lighter and lighter as the nights dragged on, and now the haul is halted altogether.
Cordea meets me, Vallan, and Garroway at the edge of the mountain pass, cutting off our entry before we can finish the decline into the sprawling camp.
Vall is quick with his hand on his axe, twitching when she appears before us like a shadowy apparition.
Cordea flips her raven-black hair off her shoulder. It appears she’s alone. Around the corner of the hills could be an ambush, of course, but there isn’t much else for any fighting contingent to hide behind.
She puts her hands on her hips, blocking our path. “The way is closed, Vallan.”
“What do you meanclosed, woman,” he snarls, towering over the lithe vampiress. “We have a deal with Liolen Sesk to give us access. I didn’t want to make a fuss about the lighter bags over the past few weeks—”
“Your deal is through,” she cuts in. “Completed. Talk to the overliege about it.” She gives us a small shrug.
Vallan clenches his jaw. I can tell he’s seconds away from a bloodrage situation. “We could kill you and march right in—”
“You could,” Cordea cuts in with a small smirk, “but there are dozens of Aramastun’s guards stationed in the camp, as usual. They did not take their usual break. You’d be marching to your death.”
I step in, barring an arm over Vallan’s bulky body to get myself in front of him. “We don’t need violence. Not now, my love.” My face whips to Cordea, scowling. “Were you given any notice for the breaking of our agreement? Any reason?”
“Only found out this evening you’re no longer allowed silver from the North Mines, princess.” Cordea keeps that haughty smirk on her beautiful porcelain face, and I want to smack it off. She loves winning, and I hate losing. “Like I said: Bring it up with the dandy liege.”
Over my shoulder, Vall speaks in a low, threatening voice. “This is a mistake you will come to regret, Cordea. Mark my words.”
We hike up the mountain before any violence can begin. On the way, Garroway sighs. “What shall we do? Not to put too fine a point on it, little honey badger, but this is catastrophic.”
I stare at the dark haze of the rocky ground, made purple from the moonlight overhead. “We’ll have to think of a new strategy. It’s not catastrophic unless there’sno wayfor us to obtain silver. We’re not there yet.”
It quickly appears there’s no way for us to obtain silver.
Liolen Sesk won’t see us. It boils my blood, because that means I can’t see Palacia, either. I’ve completely lost contact with my friend and can only guess at how her life is going and how she’s being treated.I knew it was a mistake trusting this bastard. I should have never left Pala with them. It took a month for them to break their word!
Fort Flittus is crawling with Aramastun’s guards, mingled with the overliege’s hired mercenaries. We don’t try to get too close, sneaking around the corners and using Garroway’s beast-charming from a distance to get some eyes on the phallic-shaped network of buildings.
“There’s no way in,” Garro sighs after he’s finished looking through the eyes of a nearby nightbird. “At least not without heavy fighting.”
Vallan growls and bares his fangs. “I’ve been itching for some blood.”
I put a hand on his bicep and squeeze, keeping him hidden in the shadow of the alley. “This is not the time to show our hand, Vall. We have to regroup and talk this over with Skar and Lukain. Maybe they’ll know what to do.”
“We’re only three, big brute,” Garro adds, coming to my defense. “We don’t want to die tonight. It would be pointless to charge in recklessly and would only further Liolen’s embargo against us.”
Vallan scoffs with derision. “Listen to you two, talking about recklessness. It’s a cold day in the afterworld.”
We creep out of the Commerce Ward, with Vall clearly feeling disgusted and furious. I say, “With Aramastun’s judgemen there, perhaps this isn’t Liolen’s doing. Maybe they are under lock and key by the Night Judge. Could Aramastun be making a move on the other Ministers?”
“Anything is possible,” Garro murmurs, stroking his smooth jaw. “If Liolen is held hostage, do we help them?”
Before I can answer, Vallan speaks up. “The Ministers don’t generally have jurisdiction to go into another Minister’s territory. It’s why Master Barnabac took it so poorly when we exposed Alacine’s spies in the Military Ward. The Spymistress’ assassins should have never been there.”
Garroway continues. “With Overlord Aramastun having outsize control over Olhav with the Military and Intelligence Wards in his grip, it doesn’t bode well for Liolen or Valenthia Yurlyth. They must know they are on borrowed time.” He grimaces. “How their potential civil war affects us . . . I don’t know.”
I worry my lip between my teeth. I can only hope Skartovius has a sound answer, or possibly Lukain with his knowledge of the Judgment Ward during his time as his alias, Overseer Verant. Because the Olhavian politics is beyond me. I have no idea what to do in this situation.Unless we do something that disregards Olhav altogether . . .
The idea comes to me quickly. “I don’t give a shit if Liolen is held hostage. But I do care about Palacia.”
“We can’t potentially sacrifice our entire cause for the sake of one halfkeeper, silverblood,” Vallan mumbles.