Page 96 of The Lost Reliquary
“One Arbiter shouldn’t stand in our way.” Nolan’s disappointment rivals even my own. “Please, you must get them to reconsider. He’s barely arrived. If we move fast, we can settle this before—”
“I’m sorry,” Avery cuts in. Though he’s speaking to Nolan, I know the message is for me. “It’s too dangerous.”
My hands ball into fists. But as much as I want to argue the decision too, I bite my tongue.
“We don’t know his reasons for coming here.” Nolan isn’t ready to give up. “They may be brief. If he were no longer an issue, would you…?”
Avery contemplates this. “We might reconsider,” he says finally. “But for now… I’m sorry.” He steps clear of the alley and disappears.
Nolan slumps against the wall. “Shit.”
Glad you sent that letter now?I resist the urge to speak aloud.
“Go on, say it,” he mutters.
“Say what?”
“Whatever biting condemnation is caught in the back of your throat.”
“Don’t know what you could possibly mean.”
He snickers bitterly.
I claim a bit of wall beside him, tense with defeat. Every inch of me wants to chase after Avery, but nothing I can say will change anything. The question now: Is there anything I…wecan do? “So not only is Caius sniffing around, but the heretics we want have cut us off, and there’s no telling how long before the heretics wedon’twant are up our butts again. Ideas?”
Nolan stares at the ground, gaze distant as he thinks. Finally, he sighs. “Caius is the obstacle. I don’t think there’s any way around it.”
“Oh, please don’t say it.”
“We need to pay our blood brother a visit.”
The least surprising thing about Caius’s arrival is where he takes up residence: the Silvered Pearl, Cyprene’s most luxurious guesthouse. Even at night, it glows with finery, six stories of the island’s alabaster marble peppered with arched windows and pillowy clamshells carved into the stone. Most of the windows are dark, their occupants driven away, and Thorn Guard are posted at every doorway, smudging the guesthouse’s pristine appearance.
“Do you think he’s actually paying?” The narrow alley we’ve crept down is cleaner than any other in the city, nary a bit of refuse or opportunistic rodent in sight. Only shadows. Good cover for a bad idea. “Or did he use his toy soldiers to get what he wanted, like with us?”
“Shhhh.” Between Avery and the Salt priests, and now having to deal with Caius, Nolan is more focused than I’ve seen since Novena. The distance from the Goddess still grips, I’m certain, but clarity of purpose has sharpened him again. “C’mon.”
We climb, dark spiders in a darker night, scaling the guesthouse exterior, making liberal use of the abundant ornamentation. Four stories up, the ocean wind begins to tug at my hair and clothes. At five, I make the mistake of glancing down. My stomach lurches. It’s not thata fall from this height would kill me, but I’m not keen to test out how it would feel.
“Given that everyone was kicked out”—I dig the toe of my boot deeper into a gap—“we really could have taken the stairs.”
Nolan ignores me.
The top floor is composed of a single suite. Our target is a balcony there, its edges scalloped and trimmed with silver paint. We slither onto it like a pair of cautious lizards and creep over to the glass-paned doors. Warm light spills from the interior, a room that easily rivals anything Belspire would have had to offer. Caius is within, ensconced at a table scattered with the remains of a fine meal, calmly sipping a glass of wine. Heat pricks my cheeks at the sight of him; screams echo in memory. If anyone deserves to take an assisted dive off this balcony, it’s him. Wouldn’t kill him either, but at least it would hurt.
Surprise, surprise, he’s not alone. Ramiro sits across from him with his own glass and a smarmy smile that makes it clear he thinks theGolden Glorywashisship coming in. There’s also several Thorn Guard standing sentinel. Nolan and I lock eyes. Our plan, admittedly, is not much of a plan. And it’s not going to get any better the longer we wait.
So, I stand up in front of the glass door and knock.
The Thorn Guard have their swords out before I finish. Ramiro, dulled by wine, moves a bit slower, though not by much. Caius barely reacts. He peers at me in the window, then takes another sip before putting his glass down—entirely unbothered, as if he fully expected Nolan and me to show up on his balcony.
“Everyone, relax.” He comes over and opens the door. “Good evening, Lys. Nolan. You know, you could have simply taken the stairs.”
“That’s what I said.” I shove past him. The Thorn Guard follow Caius’s order, but Ramiro’s sword remains out, his brow knit with confusion.
“So glad to see you.” Caius drips with false warmth. “Saves me the bother of tracking you down.”
“Well,” Nolan drawls, “we didn’t want to put you through any trouble.”
