Page 18 of Court of Lies and Deceit

What kind of madhouse have we ended up in?

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Well, that was… interesting,” Lyra comments once we’re finally back in the small house we’re staying in.

Isera, who is leaning against the pale living room wall with her arms crossed over her chest, gives the rest of us a flat look. “We survived, didn’t we?”

“No thanks to you, ice lady,” Alistair mutters from where he is sitting on the brown couch by the other wall.

She shoots him a pointed look. “As if you didn’t want to confront him about that as well.”

For a moment, it looks like he’s going to argue. But then he just tips his head to the side and lifts his toned shoulders in a shrug, conceding the point.

“If you’re done bickering, we have an assassination to plan,” Draven says.

He is seated in the armchair next to the couch. Lyra and Galen have squeezed themselves down on the couch beside Alistair, but I still feel too on edge to sit, so I pace across the wooden floorboards on the other side of the low table instead.

The rest of the dinner with the Unseelie King was a short and tense affair. We ate, he explained who we needed to kill and reminded us that we needed to make sure we were seen doingit, and then we left. And all the while, Isera and Orion were watching one another as if they were imagining carving each other’s hearts out with a dull knife.

“What’s there to plan?” Isera counters with a scowl. “It’s an assassination. We go in, we slit his throat, and then we get out.”

Alistair shrugs and hikes a thumb in her direction. “I’m with the ice lady on this one. I can just torch his entire house. Boom. Job done.”

“That’s arson,” I point out. “Not assassination.”

“Does it matter? Dead is dead.”

“How are you even going to set his house on fire?” Galen asks. “In case you hadn’t noticed, all buildings in this city are made of stone.”

“So? Everything melts if the temperature is high enough.”

Galen casts him a dubious look, which is mirrored by most of the rest of us. But before anyone can say anything, Draven tries to push the conversation back on track.

“Orion said to assassinate the guy, so that’s what we’re going to do,” he declares.

“Since when do you take orders from anyone?” Galen teases, a grin on his mouth.

Draven blinks in surprise.

Then Galen seems to realize what he just said, because panic and regret crash over his features like a bucket of cold water. Quickly averting his gaze, he clears his throat awkwardly and suddenly begins studying the pattern in the yellow and brown carpet with single-minded determination.

It looks like Draven is going to say something, but before he can, Isera speaks up again.

“Who cares about the stupid assassination,” she snaps. “What we need is to figure out a way to force Nightbane and his entire court to help us take down the Icehearts.”

Heaving a deep sigh, I finally stop pacing and instead plop down on the carpet in front of the low table. “I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

They all turn to me. Draven raises his eyebrows in silent question.

I adjust my position so that I’m sitting cross-legged and then drag a hand through my hair to push a few strands out of my face. “Okay, so a few weeks ago, while you were otherwise occupied, I kind of snuck out into the city and talked to Orion’s spy in Frostfell.”

A sly smile tugs at Draven’s lips as he narrows his eyes at me. “Did you now?”

“Yes.” I give him a knowing look. “And while I was doing that, you had also snuck out so that you could be a secret legendary rebel leader, so don’t even start with me.”

He lets out a silent huff of amusement.

“Anyway, the point is,” I continue. “When I talked to Orion’s spy, Nysara, the first time, she told me that the Unseelie Court was free.” I flick a glance at Isera. “I reacted in much the same way you did. But a little less… murderous.”

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