Page 87 of Flameborne: Fury
Any spy that was identified and set in motion by this circle was our false flag—those names would be passed onby our traitor if we had one, and their targets kept under watch by our hidden enemies. Each of them would ultimately either be thwarted in their mission, or assassinated. They were scapegoats, which turned my stomach. Not that they wouldn’t do good, useful work. But they were knowingly sent into the fire and wouldn’t be the true focus of our mission. Though everyone here would believe they were.
If our man was assassinated, we’d know for certain the traitor was here in the Council. But a clever traitor would simply feed the contact false informationorchange the reports they sent back. They’d use these men against they very purpose we purported to serve.
The thought made my blood run cold, but also fed my need for justice.
If we had a betrayer here, weneededto uncover them. And this would be the fastest route.
So, I hid my impatience as the conversation circled, then narrowed on two of our messengers who were not Furyknights, but had shown great aptitude for political jockeying, and could be sent to the rulers of other nations, yet seen only as pawns. I had nothing to offer this portion of our planning, because we needed the men in this room to determine the details—making it easier for us to identify who betrayed us when the time came.
When this was done, the true strategy would be refined between myself and the King and Queen.And maybe by the time we’d done that, Bren would be in my quarters.
My body tightened at the thought and I prayed I’d have time at home to bathe and see her before our duties took us back into the skies. But, at least this time we’d be openly working together. Flying the same path, seeking the same goal.
Yet, for how long? A Furyknight, especially newly raised, was at the beck and call of a mission. Especially with war on the horizon. While Bren and I would both aim for the same targettomorrow, there was no telling where she’d be pointed once our dragons could be separated.
Or where I’d be assigned.
Unease raised the hair on the back of my neck, but I shook it off. With our dragons bonded, it was normal protocol to keep them together. Given my role, I was usually kept in the Dragon Keep until we were flying to outright war. And Bren needed in-depth training before she’d be called into the field.
We could do this.
Let her prove herself. Let her show them her ability. Then I would let all these fuckers know exactly where she stood. And with whom. Let them try to split usthen.
33. Duty to the Crown
~ DONAVYN ~
When the important decisions were made, I spent a few minutes assigning men tasks to prepare before our flight later in the day, the King excused the Council but eyed me with a silent warning not to leave with the others.
As the men trickled away from the chamber, and I remained with the Captains murmuring and debating the decisions we’d made, the King leaned over the map, pointing to the unclaimed lands.
“I know you weren’t with her, Donavyn, but give me your best guess about the location of these troops?” he called to me casually.
I excused myself and told Olve to go ahead, that I’d find him later, then joined the King at the tableside and circled a fairly large area with a finger, letting my expression turn thoughtful, as if considering what I was about to say.
The moment the chamber door closed behind the last of the Advisors, the King straightened, his casual expression falling into stern intensity. “We need Diaan for this,” he muttered. “Come.”
Then he turned on his heel and marched from the room through a hidden door behind the large tapestry depicting the continent that led through the walls and straight to his quarters.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been invited to the Royal wing via the secret tunnels. We emerged in the Royal sitting room to find the Queen reclined on a lounge near the fire. I couldn’t tell if she’d been sleeping, but she sat upright when the King walked in, nodding to him before looking at me over his shoulder. She arched one brow.
“A full contingent of serious men tonight, I see,” she said airily.
“We have a small problem, and I want your eyes on it,” Alexi said bluntly, striding over to pace in front of the fire. “Donavyn and I agree, or at least, share the instinct that there may be a mole in the Council—someone attached to the spies.”
Diaan’s brows rose. She looked at me for affirmation and I nodded. “That is not asmallthing,” she remarked. I nodded again, but Alexi huffed.
“We didn’t raise our concerns with anyone else. They believe we have a strategy in place. And we do—but we believe it will be… undermined by whomever is working against us. Now we need to quickly and silently make the real plan.”
She nodded. “So, what plan do the Council know? How did you cover?”
“We have identified spies—messengers we believemightinfiltrate without being detected. They won’t be sent out until we’ve routed the invaders that were discovered. Then our chosen agents will carry news to Draeventhall and Ashthorn about the capture and imprisonment of those troops, and stay to gather intelligence on the Kings’ responses.”
I grieved those men, knowing the chances they would survive this mission to return home was small. In all likelihood, our mole would make sure they were revealed to the relevant royalsbefore they’d even arrived. But even if they didn’t, the work they were asked to do was so delicate and difficult, most in those positions would be imprisoned or assassinated within weeks. And in truth, the Council chose their men with that in mind. An enemy whodiscovereda leak was less defensive, believing they’d solved the problem.
“Solid plan,” Diann said with a shrug. “Simple, but solid. And the Advisors are in agreement?”
“Yes. But they don’t know that we believe the true linchpin in this problem is Fyrehold. And that’s where I want your input. If we do have a mole, only another mole will be in a position to help us identify them.”
