Who just died at Levan’s hand?
Echoing from far below in the hold, three overlapping voices sent a lance of despair through her.
“There’s no lox!”
“Why is there no lox?”
“… bad information …”
Oh, hells. Had she been wrong about the pattern?
But no, she couldn’t have been. Lyrian’s very presence here proved they’d been expecting a shipment of the substance. Her information wasn’t bad. It had just been undermined.
She ran back over the evening in her whirring head. Levan had disappeared as soon as Aviruna said something wasn’t right. And his wand worked beyond the laws of the land. Had he usedportarito magic himself into the boat’s hold? Had he offloaded the lox into the river, or stashed it elsewhere? No wonder he’d been so rumpled and breathless when he returned.
Either way, the raid was a failure. The Silvercloaks might be able to bring Lyrian in on murder charges, but the organizational bust they’d hoped for hadn’t worked.
Saff was still trapped in the Bloodmoons.
And they would undoubtedly kill her for what she’d done.
Yet … why had Levan saved her first? Surely he must have figured out by now that she’d leaked the shipment information to her former colleagues.
There were so many whys and not enough time.
Because there was a body on the other side of the wall.
And Saff had to know.
Shehadto know.
“Stay here, sweetling. I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered to Rasso, ruffling his cowering ears.
Rasso whimpered, burying his face in the bedsheets of the bottom bunk.
Saff tiptoed toward the corridor, unsure why she even bothered—nobody would hear her over the cacophony of wielded elements and torn wood and fractured yells. When she didn’t hear any footsteps on the other side of the door, she opened it.
A female body lay motionless on the floor, curled around herself like a newborn babe.
A silken sheet of black hair covered her face, but Saff would know that outline anywhere.
Nissa.
NISSA COULD NOT BE DEAD.
The flame-wielding part-dragon, so full of fire and life and spite and love, simply could not be dead.
Saffron fell to her knees at Nissa’s side, a sob tearing from her throat. There was the patter of lupine footsteps, the clack of claws on floorboards, and then Rasso was by her side, nuzzling his face into her thigh.
She had kissed Levan, and then he had donethis.
He had murdered one of her closest friends.
One of her greatest loves.
Tears flowed thick and hot down Saff’s cheeks. This was all her fault.
She had called this raid.