Page 148 of Untempered
I was less concerned with a drunken party than what came next. Because I had no idea whatnextcould be. For all the joy and relief, Audrey had ranted for hours that afternoon about supplies, about how trade was dead, and we would all starve before the crops came in. She’d ranted about the missing Master Steward, and what aid her father might or might not send. She’d ranted about possible repercussions and what might happen with the number of the guard so dramatically drained.
Places where I’d laid too still for too long hurt like the blazes, but my mind spun like a well-oiled wheel. I sipped the warm, spiced cider.
“No one’s asking too many questions yet,” he said quietly. “But they will, once the initial gratitude wears off.”
I didn’t know who Thomas had been talking to, but I’d already heardextensivequestions. And creative answers, too.
So long as she kept her mouth shut and let everyone else answer for her, no one ever needed to know what she’d done. They could all speculate ’til the goats came home, and it wouldn’t matter. And if we were staying put, we had time to dig in.
The thought made me feel grimly pleased as I watched the locals celebrate her, as I watched her point them toward Kaelson and Bernadette. She’d already spoken to a few people I recognized, people who’d taken on informal positions of power in pockets of the community.
I was all for saddling up her horse tonight. She wasn’t too drunk to ride. But we were staying.
We weren’t beaten, and she knew it.
Now was the time to throw off the shackles for good.
EPILOGUE
LUCA
“It’s never your enemies who betray you.”~La’Angi saying
Two of the most powerful mages this side of the Aza Ranges walk into the back room of a middling inn. It was like the start of a joke.
But this poor son of a small fief wasn’t about to be the punchline.
I ran the ripples of the short, delicate chain over the side of my finger and sent my friendly smile at the mages. My gut was liquid. I hadn’t slept last night. In my palm, the weighted coins settled. They were warm from my pocket, their edges smooth and familiar.
There were five chairs in addition to mine, a platter of baked goods, and a jug with five cups.
“Hello there,” the shorter, rounder mage, Amais, said. His smile had shiny teeth and highlighted the flatness of his eyes. “How was your winter, boy?”
I reached out to take a cup, tilting it toward them in offer. My hands were shaking, but they weren’t paying me any mind. They shook their heads, Amais waving it away with his bejeweled fingers, Julius snorting and sending me a look laced with suspicion.
Get it together. You’ve got a job to do.
Arranging my face into what I hoped was the right balance of unbothered and politely interested, I poured a cup for myself and pretended I didn’t realize Amais had addressed me.
They caught onto the ploy quickly and, as a countermeasure, simply continued their own conversation about spirits flavored by berries in the west.
Three chairs left. I listened beyond the conversation in front of me for the muted noise of a conversation, made indistinct by the layers of walls, and focused on the task ahead of me. In my palm, the coins’ weight shifted comfortably. I ran one between my thumb and forefinger, waiting.
On cue, the door opened again. Unlike the two gray-haired men, this newcomer looked like he’d been shaving only a short time. His hair was perfectly styled, his belt intricately embossed. The embroidery around the throat of his silk shirt screamedold money.
Fennix wasn’t from old money, or even new money. Fennix was from blood money. He did a good job acting the part, though.
They greeted him as if they didn’t have spies in his home, and he greeted them in turn.
Before they could drag out the small talk anymore, I took the floor. “Now that we’re all here,” I began.
“We aren’t,” Julius told me. “In case you can’t count.”
“Amberrick and Desmond won’t be making it,” I told them, and the words came out like a simple statement. Exactly as if they’d merely been held up. And exactly as I’d practiced.Just do the job.
As planned, that made them fall silent, but I wasn’t counting on that lasting. But I paused for a moment anyway, because though they didn’t speak, there were quite a few pointed looks exchanged. I wondered if I could interrupt that sort of communication, and what impact it may have.
Unsure, I went with the spiel I’d practiced. “Thanking you all for coming today,” I told them, returning the coins to my pocket and folding my hands on the table. “I have a variety of news to share with you.”
