Contents

Title

- Book One: Thorns and Tangles

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Chapter Eleven

- Book Two: Swords and Shadows

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Book Three: Lightning and Thrones

- Three Weeks Ago

- Chapter One - Now

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Book Four: Flames and Water

- Twelve Years Ago

- Chapter One - Now

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Book Five: Lies and Crossroads

- Eighteen Years Ago

- Chapter One - Now

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Book Six: Crowns and Dead Men

- Prologue

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Chapter Eleven

- Chapter Twelve

- Epilogue

- Note to Readers

- About the Author

The

Zane Halloway

Omnibus

By P.T. Hylton

BOOK ONE: THORNS AND TANGLES

CHAPTER ONE

The ship bucked and rolled under Lily’s feet. She touched the bulkhead of the captain’s quarters to steady herself, then let her hand linger a moment. She caressed the woodwork, admiring the fine details. The vessel had been built in Arrow. The famed shipyard was known not only for consistent quality but also for the magical elements built into each ship. Most people wouldn’t have noticed the subtle way the panels curved every six paces, but Lily wasn’t most people. Zane had taught her how to see the lines and edges of tangles.

Captain Zachary Derk took a long drink. When he put the bottle down on his desk, his beard was damp with the liquor. He dragged the back of his arm across his face, mopping up the moisture with his sleeve. He tilted the bottle toward Lily and raised his eyebrows. She knew he didn’t expect her to take a sip; he was merely being polite. She was tempted to do it just to see the surprised look on his face, but it would have been out of character. She gave her head the slightest of shakes.

Captain Derk shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She studied his face and was once again disappointed at how easy he was to read. She needed practice, and this man was no challenge, even for her novice skills. The way he tilted his head down and looked up at her. The way he showed his teeth in a display that wasn’t quite a smile. The way he found any excuse to look away.

He resented her. He thought her a spoiled rich girl overreacting to paranoid fantasies. He hated the stir she caused among his deckhands, the only woman to set foot on these pines in who knew how long. Maybe he hated the way she made him feel, too.

To her credit, this was all according to plan. She’d approached him in a panic just before the ship left port and begged for passage. She hadn’t been dressed for travel. She’d agreed to his outrageous fare and done it with overt gratitude. From there, she’d managed his perceptions by acting surprised at every little thing that happened aboard the ship, from the rough seas to the less-than-gourmet meals. And now, she’d come to his cabin just before sundown with the worried and vague report that she didn’t feel safe.

The captain took another pull on the bottle. “What exactly is your concern?”

She brushed a speck of dust off the shoulder of her bright orange dress, the color selected to offset her dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes. Her training allowed her to blend into the shadows when it was useful to do so, but today it was important she be seen. That was the role. Someone who was accustomed to being seen.

“I got to thinking,” she said, “about your men.”

Derk squinted at her. “That so?”

“Indeed it is. How many of them are aboard? Twelve?”

“Fifteen,” Derk said, his weary eyes moving back to the bottle. “Not taking into account present company.”

“Fifteen,” Lily repeated. “Captain, it would only take one corrupt man among them, one greedy soul, and my life could be over. A dagger across my neck while I sleep and you’d be none the wiser ’til morning.”

His eyes narrowed. He was losing patience. This was a good thing, Lily reminded herself.

“Miss Rhodes, you told me you picked my ship at random. From the moment you approached me until the moment we put to sea, there wouldn’t have been time for your brother to bribe any of my men. And they know I’d see the lot of them hanged if harm came to my passenger. That would be the death of my reputation. It simply isn’t going to happen.”

She bit her lip, trying to display fear. “An assassin then. My brother could have hired an assassin. They could be following us, waiting ’til night to come aboard.”

The captain gave her a condescending smile. “You’ve been listening to too many tavern stories.”

“If it’s just tavern stories, how do you explain what happened to the pirate Longstrain ten years ago?” Lily asked.

The smile disappeared from Derk’s face. He sighed and stood, his chair scraping the fine floorboards as he pushed it back. He came around the desk, and Lily prepared herself for the possibility she’d misjudged the man. If he attacked her, she could end his life in a moment, but Zane would be sorely disappointed if she failed her assignment.

The captain put a hand on her shoulder. The look on his face was that of a father indulging a favored child, so she allowed it.

“I walk the deck every night before sundown. Tonight, I’d like you to accompany me.”

Lily waited just a moment and then raised her eyebrows. “Onto the deck?”

Captain Derk smiled. “There’s something I need you to see.”

He led the way and Lily followed him into the open air and up the companionway to the quarterdeck. He walked to the starboard railing and waited for her to join him. When she did, he gestured toward the sea. “What do you see?”

“Water.”

“What else?”

She made a show of looking over the choppy waters for a long moment. “Nothing else.”

Captain Derk turned to her and smiled. The first genuine smile he’d given her since the moment he took her money. “You’re wrong. You don’t see nothing. You see everything.”

She frowned in confusion.  “I don’t understand.”

“Look across the water. You could spot a small ship three miles away. And there’s nothing.” He took her arm and led her to the port railing. “Same on this side. And all sides. There is nothing out there. No assassin. No angry brother. Nothing. If there were, we’d see it.”

Lily nodded slowly, as if finally understanding. “But what about after nightfall?”

“We light the deck of the ship and we have enough men watching it that the idea of someone attaching a hook and climbing aboard is nearly impossible. If through some miracle they did make it onto the deck, they would be spotted immediately.”

She looked out across the sea. “You make it all sound so simple.”

“It’s not simple. It’s twenty years experience running a ship and riding the crew until they perform like they’re greased with virgin oil.”

Lily wasn’t sure how to react to that. Would her character dispute the man, or would she accept it? She stared out at the ocean to buy herself a few moments.

“You people have it all wrong,” Captain Derk said.

Lily wasn’t sure what he meant by you people. A dig at her race, perhaps? Her rich-born status? Women in general?

“You think walls are the ultimate protection,” he continued. “Moats. Fortified castles.”

She turned toward him and arched an eyebrow, a move she’d been practicing in the mirror daily ever since she’d seen Zane do it and observed its disarming effect on a group of women. “You’re saying those things don’t provide protection?”

He shrugged. “Sure they do. Being trapped inside, cut off from food and supplies by your enemies, so hungry you resort to eating your own dead. I guess you could call that protection. But to me, protection is being able to see your enemy when he’s far away and having a fast enough ship to avoid him.” He waved an arm toward the endless waters. “You can keep your walls. The sea is the only ally I’ll ever need.”

Lily allowed herself a half smile. “And what about your men? Are they trained to fight? If by some miracle of fate you don’t spot your enemy and it comes to a battle.”

Captain Derk grinned. “Ma’am, these boys live to fight. Take one look at them and tell me they don’t.”

She nodded. “They certainly look capable. That man Matias looks like he could knock out a horse in a single blow.”

“I’d wager money on it, Miss Rhodes.”

This was the moment, and she didn’t want to rush it. It was like Zane said: When you work so hard to sow the seed, don’t forget to savor the harvest.

She made a show of looking around. “Where is Matias, anyway? Isn’t he usually buzzing around the deck?”

Captain Derk clucked his tongue without taking his eyes off her. “I expect he’s around. He has a hard time staying still. Hard worker, though.”

Lily concentrated on keeping the frown off her face. She would have to lead this horse a bit closer to water, it seemed. “I’ve noticed that about him. About all the men, actually. They’re always on the move. Always shooing me out of the way when I’m up here. I’m surprised we have the quarterdeck to ourselves.”

Derk shrugged. “Men do a little less shooing of their captain than they do of the passengers.”

She waited, not saying anything. He was almost there. She could feel it. She had to let him take the last step himself.

Derk glanced behind her and stared at the empty deck. His eyes narrowed and he slowly turned, scanning the breadth of the ship. “What the hell?” he muttered.

She took a step back into the long shadow cast by the mast and waited, trying to enjoy the moment.

The captain dashed down the companionway to the main deck, moving faster now, his voice growing louder. “What the hell is this? Where are my men?”

She followed him.

At the sound of her footsteps, he spun toward her. “You know about this? Is it your doing?”

Lily Rhodes met his eyes, letting the character fall away. She spoke in her true voice, a bit slower and deeper than the one she’d been using. “I do know about this. But it’s not my doing.”

He stepped toward her, his face wet with perspiration and red with fear. “You tell me what you know, girl.” He grabbed her upper arm hard.

She spun out of his grip, grabbing his hand as she turned and twisting it so hard and fast he fell to his knees and howled.

“What is happening is your men are dead,” she said, “and you are soon to join them.”

“You liar!” He spat the words at her. “You played upon my mercy, but it was all lies.”

She shook her head. “I told you I have a brother who does not approve of my lifestyle, and that is true. I told you I needed passage on your ship and was willing to pay a more than fair price, and that was also true. Whatever other conclusions you drew are hardly my fault.”

“You dare throw semantics in my face?” He attempted to struggle to his feet. She twisted his hand harder, driving him back down to the deck.

“I told you I believed an assassin could board your ship,” she said. “That was also true. Captain Derk, I’d like to introduce you to Zane Halloway, assassin.”

Derk twisted his head around, frantically looking for the man she described. Of course, Zane waited until Derk was looking directly toward him. The man knew how to make an entrance.

Zane stepped out of the shadows behind some rigging, shadows that seemed thin and shallow and utterly incapable of concealing a man, but until he came forward he’d been invisible even to Lily’s eyes. His dark hair was a wild unruly thing that looked wind tossed even on the stillest of days, and today was not still. He was tall and thin, and he wore a dark green cloak that flowed and shifted in the wind, making it difficult to tell whether he was moving or standing still. He held a long thin sword. Its tip rested on the deck.

“No,” the captain said. “It’s not possible. The tangles.”

Lily answered the man. She knew Zane wouldn’t speak. Not yet. “Your protective magics are indeed impressive. I noted the quality the moment I came aboard. But it’s a poor assassin who can’t get past even the finest of tangles.”

Derk was breathing faster now. He looked up at Zane with wide eyes. “Who sent you? At least tell me that.”

Zane’s face was stone. There was no emotion in it, neither pity nor anger. His piercing gray eyes bore into Derk. Lily envied that look. The utter stillness Zane exuded had a nearly physical weight to it. True stillness was a difficult skill to master, and Lily knew she was years away from matching Zane in that regard.

Zane said, “Gabe Nettles wants you to know he never believed the shipment was lost.”

Derk let out all his breath in a weary sigh. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

The tip of Zane’s sword moved too quickly for Lily’s eyes to follow its passage. From the deck, across Derk’s throat, and back to the deck again.

Zane and Lily waited in respectful silence through the man’s final moments.

When she was sure he was dead, Lily said, “I could have done it, you know.”

“I know,” Zane said.

“Then why didn’t you let me?”

“Nettles didn’t hire you to do the job. He hired me.” He turned and walked toward the rigging. “Besides, just because you can kill doesn’t mean you are ready to do so.”

Lily knew arguing would be pointless. If Zane thought she wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ready.

“You gonna tell me how you got aboard?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” he asked.

Lily shrugged. “If I had to guess, you approached the ship in a camouflaged skiff, used a rope and hook to climb aboard, and disposed of fifteen men without any of them raising an alarm. But that would be impossible.”

Zane allowed the hint of a smile to touch his lips. “Highly improbable, at the very least. But not impossible.”

“How’d I do with my part of it?” she asked.

“You played the role, and the job got done. That’s the important thing.”

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means there’s always room for improvement.” He walked to the port-side rail and grabbed a rope dangling from a hook. “Let’s go home.”

CHAPTER TWO

Zane Halloway lived in a modest two-story home in a middling neighborhood in Barnes. Many of his neighbors were young people who held low-level positions in industry, people who hoped they would soon be moving on to something grander. Others were older couples, many of them former leaders and society members who’d fallen on hard times, the type of people who weren’t quite important enough to retain their positions of power when old age crept in.

The neighborhood was quiet and pleasant, but still low-class enough to make Zane’s wealthy clients uncomfortable. Which was exactly why Zane had selected it.

It had been two days since Zane had killed Captain Derk. He cherished this downtime between jobs. Sometimes it would be only days before the next opportunity presented itself. Sometimes it would be weeks. The unpredictability of his schedule made his time off all the more special.

He was reading a book on the latest scientific theories of astronomy when his appointment arrived. He heard Lily greet the man, and he put away his book and prepared himself. This was his least favorite part of the job. Listening to a potential client, and weighing the pros and cons of taking their case. Killing was a straight line, and while his methods varied from job to job, the end result was always the same. These appointments were curvy things, which was why he didn’t like them.

Lily led the man into the room. “Albert Graze to see you, Mr. Halloway.”

Mr. Halloway. She always insisted on formality in front of clients. She probably did it because it bothered him.

Albert Graze was a short, thin man with a narrow face and brown hair that hung halfway down his back. He wore a large gold chain around his neck. His clothes were expensive but wrinkled. Zane put the man in his early forties.

Zane greeted Graze with a handshake and offered him a seat.

Graze looked around the sparsely-decorated room. It was bare but for two simple chairs and a few built-in shelves. Graze was clearly unimpressed. This too was by design.

The fact that Graze had made it to Zane’s study spoke to both his status and his resolve.

Hiring an assassin in Barnes was no easy task. The Ferox Society—the society to which Zane belonged—existed to find things. If you had a family heirloom stolen, or wanted to find a child who’d run away, or some coin that had been removed from your home in the night, the Ferox Society would provide someone to find it.

But there was another service the Society provided, a service that was much whispered about but rarely confirmed. If you wanted someone killed, and you had enough coin and a good enough family name, the Ferox Society may be able to assist. Zane was one of four ferox assassins.

Zane knew the hoops this man had jumped through to get to this point. The Society referred potential clients Zane’s way; it was up to him whether or not to accept their offered jobs.

“You understand my price, Mr Graze?” Zane asked.

Graze nodded and lifted a small bag. The coins inside clinked as he handed them to Zane. “I’m told you’ll do the job for twenty-five thrones.”

Zane shook his head slightly. “Actually, that’s incorrect. I’ll consider the job for twenty-five thrones.”

He opened the bag and took out a coin. The currency was commonly called thrones due to the image etched into its surface. An empty throne. King Victor had instituted the currency two-hundred years ago to avoid the practice of each new monarch minting a new set of coins bearing his or her own image. It was a costly and pointless practice, in King Victor’s opinion. Six months into his rein, Victor had been killed by his own brother. The currency had remained dominant far longer than its creator.

Zane inspected the coin against the light coming through the window and suppressed a smile as Graze shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Men like Graze weren’t used to having their coin validated.

Graze eyed the bag of money in Zane’s hand. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“You pay me the twenty-five thrones and then you tell me about the job. If it’s the type of job I would like to take, I’ll do it. If, after proper consideration, I decide the job is not for me, I’ll give you my regrets and send you on your way.”

Graze barked out a laugh. “And you keep the coin either way?”

Zane nodded.

“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Even still, that is my price. Shall we proceed or would you like your money back?”

Graze frowned. “It’s not that I doubt your skill. You come highly recommended. It’s just that my family has fallen on hard times of late.”

Zane studied the man’s face. Graze’s definition of hard times seemed to be different than that of most Barnes residents. “I know about your family.”

“Then you know we aren’t what we once were. We’ve gone from the second most important family in the Abditus Society to the sixth.”

Zane did know that. He kept tabs on the Abditus Society, the only organization allowed to produce magical objects. He also knew the family’s decline was the fault of the man sitting in front of him. Graze wasn’t the genius thornsman his grandfather had been, and he wasn’t the shrewd businessman his father had been.

“The reason I mention our finances,” Graze continued, “is that I want you to understand twenty-five thrones isn’t an insignificant sum to me. That’s a year’s salary for a good man in my employ.”

“I understand,” Zane said. He stopped there, letting Graze decide for himself. Zane wasn’t here to push his services.

“And what criteria do you use to decide whether to take the job?”

“That’s not something I share, Mr. Graze.”

Graze scratched his chin. “Alright. Let’s get started.”

Zane just nodded, showing no reaction one way or the other. He slipped the bag of coins into his cloak.

Graze nodded toward Lily who now stood in the corner of the room, doing her best to blend into the shadows. “She your apprentice?”

Zane chuckled. “Only a foolish assassin would take an apprentice. There are only two ways that relationship can end. Either the apprentice learns well and kills you to take your business, or the apprentice is not good enough to kill you and thereby shames your name.”

“Oh,” Graze said. “So who is she?”

“You were correct. She’s my apprentice.”

Graze looked confused for a moment, then he nodded.

Zane was a little surprised to find he was having fun.

“Tell me about the job,” Zane said.

Instead of answering, Graze pointed at a small object on one of the shelves. “May I?”

Zane nodded.

Graze walked over and picked up the object. It was a wooden sphere slightly smaller than a man’s fist. Graze turned it this way and that, inspecting it from all angles. “You have good taste. This is a tangle designed by Irving Farns, is it not? Protects against eavesdroppers, from the looks of it.”

Zane didn’t reply. The tangle in Graze’s hand was the only magical object in the house.

Graze’s family made thorns, objects embedded with aggressive magics. Tangles provided protective magic, and most were specifically designed to protect against thorns. Thornsmen and tanglesmen had a complicated relationship.

Graze hefted the object in his hand. “You know, it’s funny. Twenty years ago, this thing would have been unbeatable. The technology didn’t exist.”

“And today?” Zane asked.

Graze flashed a smile. “Now there are a dozen thorns that could get past this thing if one’s willing to spend the money.” He set the object down and went back to his seat. “That’s the way it goes, isn’t it? The tanglesmen come up with something to stop the latest thorn, and the thornsmen come up with something to break the latest tangle. ‘Round and ‘round it goes.”

“Tell me about the job,” Zane repeated.

Graze nodded. “I’m having a hard time figuring out how old you are. Do you remember the golden age of magic?”

Zane had been a small child during the golden age, but he didn’t make a practice of giving away personal information. “I’ve read about it, anyway.”

Graze waved a hand toward him as if shooing away a fly. “Ferox. It’s impossible to have a conversation with you lot. I’ll admit to remembering the golden age, even if you won’t. I was just a boy, but it was quite the big deal in my household.”

It had been in Zane’s, too. More magical progress was made in those five years than in the previous two hundred. It’d been a heady time, even for a family who wasn’t part of the Abditus Society.

“Let me ask you this,” Graze continued, “since you admit to having read books about the golden age. What caused it?”

Zane considered that a moment. “It’s a complicated question. Like asking who started a war.”

“All the same, I’d like your opinion.”

Zane didn’t like revealing his opinions any more than he liked revealing personal information, but he decided to indulge the man. “Some say it was a crop of especially talented abditus who all happened to be in the right place at the right time, your grandfather among them. Some say it was the inevitable result of hundreds of years of theoretical research, like a pot of water finally boiling after sitting over a flame for a long time. Some say it was the political climate that caused so many bright minds to study magic at the same moment in history. And then there’s the theory that the war led to the advancements.”

Graze smiled. “That’s a bunch of drivel. Don’t get me wrong, there were some great men involved. My grandfather was in his later years by the time the golden age happened, but I’d like to think he played his role. And, yeah, there were a lot of smart kids joining the Abditus Society at the time. But if you ask me, there was only one reason for the golden age.”

“What’s that?” Zane asked.

Graze pointed at the object on Zane’s shelf.

Zane squinted at the tangle for a moment before getting it. “Irving Farns.”

Graze nodded. “To tell you about this job, I’m going to have to talk a bit about the magical industry. Things that my fellow abditus wouldn’t approve of me discussing with outsiders. We are a close-knit group and we value our secrets. Can I trust your discretion?”

Zane said, “Mister Graze, secrets are what I do. You can be sure none of what you say will pass outside these doors.”

Graze nodded again, like he’d expected no less but felt obligated to ask. “The Abditus Society is much like the Ferox Society, I’d imagine. Knowledge is passed to each new generation through apprenticeships. The average apprenticeship lasts about five years. Irving Farns surpassed his master in two. And his master was no slouch. He apprenticed under my grandfather.”

That fact Zane did not know. Though he certainly wasn’t going to admit it.

“To hear my grandfather tell it, the boy was a revelation. Back then my family made both tangles and thorns. But apparently Irving wanted no part of thorns. He was all about tangles, right from the start. Grandpa said Irving looked at the world differently. He approached his tangles in a way so new it made everyone else rethink what they were doing. And that is what caused the golden age.”

“Interesting history lesson,” Zane said. “I haven’t heard a job offer yet. Have you, Lily?”

“I have not,” Lily said.

Graze looked at her with surprise. He’d forgotten she was in the room. The woman was good, Zane had to give her that.

Graze cleared his throat. “I’d appreciate it if you’d indulge me a bit further. It’s important background information.” His eyes flashed toward Zane’s cloak. “Besides, I believe I’ve paid for the conversation.”

Zane nodded deeply, the closest he came to an apology. “Proceed.”

“My grandfather hated the golden age.”

“Because it rendered him obsolete?” Zane liked to throw a few barbs in these meetings to see how the clients would react.

“Not at all,” Graze said, his voice as even as ever. “My grandfather never got the respect he deserved because he worked on both thorns and tangles. The Abditus Society loves specialization. Still, Grandpa couldn’t help himself. He loved the science of magic so much that every bit of progress was a joy to him. The only thing he loved more than magic was people, and the golden age caused too many deaths for Grandpa’s conscience to rest easy.”

“Deaths?” Zane asked. The assassin was genuinely curious. There were few worlds he didn’t have full access to, but magic was one of them. Sure, he had a small network of abditus sources, but they only revealed so much.

“As I said before,” Graze continued, “it was a heady time. So much innovation. And the money flowing in! Once the public got wind of the things that were happening, cutting edge magics became the new status symbol among the rich. There were thrones to be had for all abditus who could make a name for themselves. I should know. I’m still living off the fortune my grandpa acquired in those years.”

“But the deaths?” Zane asked, prompting the man.

“Everyone knew the golden age wouldn’t last forever. Progress couldn’t continue at that pace, and as soon as it slowed, so would the demand. Young men and women were desperate to make their names while they still had a chance to get rich. Suddenly every abditus was an inventor. Novice abditus who could barely put together a pre-made charm kit were trying to build master-level thorns from scratch. Worse yet, the devices weren’t being tested properly. The things that went on sale to the public…it makes me shudder to think of it.”

Zane laced his hands behind his head as he often did when he was deep in thought. “I remember a lot of faulty charms when I was growing up. My parents would buy two of anything they really needed just to offset the possibility of a dud. But I don’t remember hearing about any deaths. Nor are they referenced in any of the histories I’ve read.”

Graze smiled. “That is as it should be. There were blessed few of them, all things considered. Only five that I know about. The Abditus Society values its reputation above all else. We’ve been through times when people fear magic, and it isn’t pretty. So the families of the dead were paid handsomely and a new official cause of death was recorded. But that wasn’t the worst of it.”

Zane nodded for the man to continue.

“It became difficult to establish yourself even if you did have something extraordinary,” Graze said. “So many people were making so many claims that quality magics got overlooked. That was when the duels began.”

Zane arched an eyebrow. This definitely wasn’t in the history books.

“If a young abditus had created what he believed was a revolutionary new thorn, he might challenge an established tanglesman to a duel. A young tangle maker might challenge a well-known thornsman.”

“Why don’t I know about this?” Zane asked.

“Like I said, the magical community is tightly knit. The duels were held in private Society halls. These challenges were often made in front of the store owners who had come to select which magics to stock. Turning down the challenge was difficult under those circumstances. My grandpa was coerced into participating in a dozen duels. But it was far worse for Irving Farns. The challenges were endless. Every up-and-coming thornsman wanted to face Irving’s Tooth of Glass. Are you familiar with it?”

Zane said, “I’ve heard of it. It supposedly reflected the thorn back at the caster.”

Graze smiled. “You are well read. It did more than reflect, though. It amplified the thorn. Duelists used de-powered, non-lethal versions of their thorns, but the Tooth of Glass re-amplified them to lethal levels. Most of the fools who challenged him were maimed or killed. After a while, he stopped accepting challenges. He figured it wasn’t worth killing anyone else just to prove he was still the best.” He paused and nodded toward the tangle on the shelf. “You paid a pretty bit of coin for that tangle, I’m sure. You know why his prices got so high?”

“Because he retired.”

“Went into hiding is more like it. See, after he stopped accepting challenges, some ambitious young thornsmen decided they weren’t going to take no for an answer. They started attacking him in the street, forcing him to use his tangles to protect himself. It went on for almost a year; him barely going out of the house, and them constantly trying to find ways to draw him out. Then one day a young thornsman with a particularly nasty fire thorn attacked Irving while he was on his way to church. The young man didn’t see Irving’s wife standing there. She died and Irving, as you say, retired. He said he was afraid for his young daughter, and who could blame him? He hasn’t been seen in twenty-five years.”

Zane had known Farns dropped out of the public eye twenty-five years ago, but he hadn’t known the reason why. He glanced at the tangle on his shelf with a new level of respect. He’d only bought it because it made his more magic-dependent clients feel comfortable. Hearing about the man who’d made it changed the way he saw the thing.

Still, he wasn’t here to be educated on the great tanglesmen of history. “Mr. Graze, you said that you paid for my time, and so you did. But my patience is not infinite. What do you need from me?”

Graze nodded his understanding. “Last week a woman showed up at the Volst Hall.”

Volst Hall, Zane knew, was the Abditus Society headquarters in Barnes.

Graze continued. “She knew the passwords to gain entry, but none of us had ever seen her before. She identified herself as Beth Farnes.”

“Irving’s daughter,” Zane said.

Graze nodded. “And she had quite the story to tell. According to her, Irving never retired. He has continued working and innovating. He just hasn’t been selling his creations. Now, for some reason, he has decided the time is right. He will be putting his new tangles up for auction in two week’s time.”

Zane laced his hands behind his head. “Did you see the woman?”

“I did.”

“And do you believe her?”

“I do,” Graze said. “She provided a demonstration of one of the tangles. It was convincing. As you might imagine, there is quite a lot of excitement around this announcement.”

“But not from you?” Zane asked.

“Not from me. Mr. Halloway, a second magical golden age cannot happen. Too many lives are at stake. Too many young abditus would be killed in the new wave of duels. The kids today are different. They are so much hungrier. To put it bluntly, they are wolves, and they are all going to want to be the alpha.”

“So what’s the job?” Zane asked again.

Graze leaned forward. “I want you to kill Irving Farns and destroy his creations.”

CHAPTER THREE

After Graze was gone, Zane turned to Lily. “What’s your initial assessment?”

Lily cleared her throat. During the conversation with Graze she’d stood in the back of the room, barely seen and mostly unnoticed, but listening. Evaluating the job as she imagined Zane would. Preparing for this question.

“My initial assessment is he’s lying.”

Zane grunted noncommittally. “Which part?”

She walked to the shelf and picked up the Farns-made tangle. “I believe him about Farns. About the duels and why the man went into hiding. I believe him about Beth Farns and her announcement of the auction for Farns’s designs. All that can be checked, so he wouldn’t lie about it. I don’t believe his motivation.”

Zane had sent Graze away with the vague promise they would contact him by the end of the week. The man hadn’t been happy, but he’d left without much complaining.

Zane leaned back on his stool, his hands laced behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. “Walk me through your thought process.”

Lily set the tangle down and began pacing. Zane liked stillness when he thought, but Lily liked to remain in motion. “His family’s fallen on hard times. Relatively speaking. They were the best, and now they’re struggling to hold onto fifth place. Does that sound like a man who would welcome a disruptive force into his industry?”

Zane shrugged. “Maybe a little disruption is all he needs to reinvigorate the family business.”

“Did he seem like a man who is up for the hard work of rebuilding a business?”

“Not at all,” Zane said. “So why did he tell me that story?”

“Because he wants you to take the job.”

“Have I given him any reason to think I select my cases based on their moral validity?”

Lily smiled. “No. But it’s a better play than I want you to kill this guy to help my business.”

“Perhaps.”

“So you’ll be turning down the job?”

“I didn’t say that. Just because he’s lying doesn’t mean it isn’t interesting.”

Lily suppressed the strange urge to laugh. She’d known from the moment Graze said the words kill Irving Farns. Zane wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge of trying to assassinate the world’s leading expert in protective magic. In a way, he was like those eager young abditus Graze had described. He wanted to test himself against a fellow master.

Of course, she would never say that out loud. She was half-convinced Zane didn’t realize he had underlying reasons for anything he did. He considered himself one-hundred-percent logical.

“So you’re taking the job?” she asked.

“I didn’t say that, either.” He sat up straight and stretched. “I’m considering it.”

She waited, knowing there would be more, some small job he would assign her to aid in the decision-making process.

“This will be good for you,” he said. “The magical world is a tough one to crack.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Find out anything you can about Irving Farns’s past. Any known associates. Enemies. Friends. Lovers. Whatever. Where he’s been hiding these past twenty-five years. Any other connection to the Graze family our client didn’t reveal.”

Lily nodded briskly. “Got any names for me to start with?” She knew what the answer would be, but she had to ask. Just in case.

“Absolutely not. This is about you building your network of informants, not using mine.”

Lily sniffed, then hoped the sound hadn’t come off as defiant. This was the job. This was what she’d signed up for. Or been selected for, depending on how she looked at it. “I can do that. And what will you be doing while I dig up the info on Farns?”

Zane leapt to his feet, patted her on the shoulder, and treated her to a rare smile. “Just following a hunch. One that may take me a day or two to investigate. Let’s meet back here tomorrow night. I’ll have Doris prepare a ham.”

Doris was a widow from the neighborhood Zane occasionally hired to cook.

“I’ll get right to work,” Lily said.

What happened next was her own fault. She was so eager to begin, she forgot herself and left by the main exit. She should have slipped out the back and snuck through the alley. Or climbed out the upstairs window, crossed to the neighbor’s roof, and gone down their storm pipe. Or, barring all that, at least taken a long careful look out the window to ensure there was no one lying in wait. But she didn’t do any of those things, so she paid the price.

As soon as Lily opened the door, she heard three quick whistles, a signal she knew far too well. A bucket’s worth of mud slammed into her chest and splattered all over her face and arms. She heard the giggling of children and the retreating sound of feet pounding the dirt.

“Run all you like!” she called after them lamely. “I know where you live!”

She squealed in frustration and turned to go back inside. Zane stood watching, a smile of genuine delight on his face.

“That was worth the money ten times over,” he said.

Lily reminded herself this man was a world-class assassin and she’d be better off not punching him in the face. Instead, she brushed past him and went to her room to change.

The mud-hurling children were the Eakharts from next door. There were eight of them and they seemed to have the exit covered at all hours, day and night. They’d even caught her going out the back once. Perhaps it had something to do with the three coppers Zane paid the children each time they got her. He said it was part of her training, being alert at all times and stealthy in her movements, but she suspected he just found it funny.

With her clothes changed, she exited the second-story window to avoid the Eakhart children.

Lily walked for nearly half an hour, making her way through narrow trash-ridden streets with houses that huddled close together as if for warmth, before she realized where she was going. It was the only place she could go, really, though she wasn’t happy about it. Her personal network of informants consisted of a confidence man who ran a low-stakes game on local shops, a woman who ran an upper-class brothel on the South End of town, and a delivery man who owed her a favor. She’d been in the city for nearly two years, and she’d made no real friends and only a handful of acquaintances. She had nothing resembling a connection in the magical world. Stealth and weapons came easily to her, but building the types of relationships that allowed for favors and the trade of information did not. Zane had made it clear he wasn’t happy with how she was progressing in this area. Which was likely the reason he’d given her this assignment.

As she walked, the space between the houses grew larger. Soon, thick old-growth trees provided her shade as she walked. The streets became quieter, too. Fewer children playing and more sharply dressed men hurrying primly along in silent straight lines. Having grown up poor, raised on a farm halfway across the country, Lily felt less at home in these wealthy neighborhoods. As a child, she’d been shy and awkward. She realized now that her poor, close-knit community had saved her from retreating even further into her shell, and she appreciated it.

Lily stopped in front of a small but handsome building with an unobtrusive sign that read Daria & Gilbert, Solicitors. The sign, like the rest of the building, was fresh and clean, as if a coat of paint had been applied that very morning. What it lacked in flair, it made up for with simple class. Lily took a deep breath and entered the building.

She walked past the woman at the desk with an unhurried confident gait, and the woman didn’t stop her. In her time with Zane, she’d learned that if you looked like you knew where you were going, people rarely questioned you. Even at a high-class solicitor’s office.

She made her way toward a small room at the back of the building and entered without knocking.

Peter sat behind a small, neat desk, a quill in his hand. He looked up with a start when the door opened. He looked exhausted.

His eyes widened when he saw Lily. He waved her inside and nodded toward the door, gesturing for her to close it. She almost asked if he was embarrassed to be seen with her, but that wouldn’t help her cause. She was here to ask for a favor, after all. She slid the door shut behind her.

Peter carefully set the quill down on the desk. Probably didn’t want to smudge his work. Paper wasn’t easy to acquire in any quantity, even for the rich.

“Nice to see you,” he said with a forced smile.

“And you,” she said.

There was an awkward pause.

Lily had heard tales of the mental connection supposedly shared by twins. The way they inherently understood each other and could communicate through the subtlest of movements, often not needing words at all. It wasn’t like that for her and Peter. Or, maybe it had been when they were very young. But as soon as school started, Peter had become concerned with friends, and she’d been the inconvenient girl always hanging around. It seemed little had changed. Though they lived in the same city, they hadn’t spoken in months.

In some ways, they were almost too similar. Both were smart, inquisitive, and didn’t like to rock the boat. They were both following the career paths that had been assigned based on their Tens, the assessment tests all ten-year-olds were required to take. He worked for a solicitor in the hopes of one day becoming a partner, and she’d followed the path that led her to join up with the assassin Zane Halloway. And though Peter had followed his own prescribed path without complaint, he didn’t approve that she’d also followed hers. He thought she was a simple ferox’s apprentice. Lily could only imagine how he’d react if he learned what Zane Halloway was really training her to do.

“How’s  the job?” she asked.

Peter gave a tired sigh, but his face relaxed as if he was happy to discuss the topic. He nodded toward the piece of paper on his desk. “It’s crazy, is what it is. I’ve spent the last two weeks pouring over records and histories, trying to determine if a certain minor lord is forty-fifth or forty-sixth in the line of succession. He’s paid hundreds of thrones to have us research this, for no reason other than to settle an argument with a rival. It’s maddening.”

“Sounds a bit like my line of work.”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“Rich people, huh?” Lily asked with a grin.

When Peter grimaced, she knew she’d made a misstep. He thought she considered him too obsessed with wealth. Which she did.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

No need to draw this out. Her brother would appreciate bluntness.

“I need your help,” she said.

“Of course you do.”

Lily ignored the barb. She leaned against the wall behind her, trying to use her body language to change the mood of the room. She was generally pretty good at this, but Peter seemed immune. Maybe he’d grown impervious while they’d shared a womb.

“I need to know whether magical employment is documented in the public record.”

Peter sat up a bit straighter and pushed his glasses up his long nose. “Well, that is an intriguing question.” He sounded genuinely surprised.

Lily smiled at him. “You thought I was going to ask for help breaking in somewhere, didn’t you?” Ferox—even the normal kind—were known to break a law or two in the line of duty. That was part of the reason Peter didn’t approve of her profession.

He glanced toward the door. “Lily, please.” But she could tell the thought had at least crossed his mind. “What kind of employment records?”

“Apprenticeship papers.”

“Ah,” he said, growing more comfortable by the minute. “From what era?”

“Thirty to forty years ago. During the golden age, or just before it.”

Peter hopped up and went to the shelf on his back wall. He pulled down the thickest of the three books. “You might just be in luck.”

He set the book on his desk. His fingers flipped the pages quickly, moving over them with the air of familiarity a musician might share with an instrument, until he found the section he wanted. “This is interesting, because the laws around this have changed repeatedly over the years. The Abditus Society has always fought to keep their own records. And currently they have the right to do so.”

Lily frowned.

“There was a period of time when that was not the case,” Peter said, turning the book around so she could see it. He stabbed one of his long fingers toward the page. “There was a petition filed to make abditus apprenticeship records public about a hundred years ago. And surprisingly it passed.”

“What was the reasoning?” Lily asked.

“Prior to that, if an abditus came and set up shop somewhere, it was very difficult to validate his or her credentials. The only way to do so was to go to the Abditus Society and put in a request. It was a lengthy process. What finally cost the Society their privacy was the case of a man named Phillip Hader.”

Lily waited. No use rushing him in the telling of a story. She knew he’d get surly and clam up.

“Mr. Hader went to the Society to check the credentials of a man who claimed he could make a balm that would cure Hader’s wife of a persistent breathing ailment. The balm was not cheap, so Hader wanted to make sure it was on the up-and-up. About a week after putting in his request, he received a message to come back to the Society hall for important information about the abditus. When he arrived at the hall, he found the city watch waiting for him.”

Lily raised an eyebrow.

“Turns out, Hader was wanted in some far off city for a crime he’d committed twenty years before.”

“And inquiring at the Society put the law on his trail?”

Peter nodded. “The Society was checking more than just the credentials of their members. They were also investigating the background of anyone who inquired and happily collecting the bounty for anyone whose past wasn’t squeaky clean. Thing is, Hader wasn’t some commoner. He was a minor lord with an influential uncle.”

“Ha,” Lily said. “Serves the Abditus Society right. What happened to them?”

“While what they were doing wasn’t technically illegal, the magistrate decided the public interest would be better served by easier access to magical records. That law stood until ten years ago when a new law passed saying the Abditus Society could keep their own records going forward. But if the records you’re looking for are forty years old—”

“They’d still be in the public record?” Lily asked hopefully.

Peter nodded.

“Great. Tell me where to go.”

Peter pushed up his glasses again. If this all worked out, Lily promised herself she’d get him a new pair as a thank you gift.

“It’s not quite that simple,” he said. “You need to hire a solicitor to get the records for you.”

“You’re telling me the public can’t access the public records?”

“Yes, about twenty years ago, there was a case—”

“Peter, I don’t need to know the history.” She scratched her chin. “What’ll it cost me to hire you to do it?”

“I can’t. The hall keeps records, and if Daria or Gilbert asked—”

“Fine. Then help me break in.”

Peter smiled a sickly smile. “I knew it would come to that. I’m not helping you break in.”

“ But Peter—”

“I’m sorry, Lily.”

“Just give me your writ. I’ll tell them I’m a clerk working on your behalf.”

“Lily!” he said, a bit too loudly for the small office. He lowered his voice and said, “If this comes back on me, if Mr. Daria or Mr. Gilbert ask why I gave you my writ, I’d lose my job. I’m an apprentice, too. My bosses may not be ferox, but they will not hesitate to ruin lives.”

She scowled at him. “Fine. At least tell me where to find the records.”

He nodded. “Rear section of the northeast wing.”

“Thank you.” She turned to go.

“Lily,” he said. “Do me a favor. Don’t visit me at work again.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Zane worked his horse Pluck through the narrow streets, weaving around the people hurrying home to their families and the lamplighters rushing to illuminate the gaslights before night fell.

Pluck was a jet black stallion, sleek and strong, and—truth be told—a bit much for Zane’s needs. The creature drew attention to itself, which was something that could be deadly in Zane’s profession. He felt vaguely guilty using this world-class animal for such mundane tasks as carrying him to a late-night party at the Abditus Society’s Volst Hall.

He’d sent Lily out to develop her network of connections, a process the girl was fighting tooth and nail. In most respects, she was an ideal apprentice. A fast learner who took to most of the job-related tasks like she’d been doing them for years. And, God, the way she fought! Every training session with her was like a life and death duel. She never begged off or asked for a break, and she never cried for mercy when he demonstrated how to incapacitate a man. He dreaded the inevitable day when she would make her attempt on his life. Killing her would be a grim task. He hoped it was years away, and she was smart enough that it probably would be.

But the networking…she couldn’t seem to find the right approach. She came off either too strong or too subservient. He couldn’t help but blame himself.

While she was out building her network, Zane had been working his existing one. He’d had a hunch that the presence of Beth Farns might have attracted visiting abditus from other cities. That hunch had proved accurate. Where there were visitors, there might be the opportunity for entry into the Volst Hall.

Through a blacksmith friend, he’d located an abditus visiting from the city of Laurn.  Zane had done some work in Laurn and happened to be friendly with the city magistrate. Zane had paid the abditus, a man named Gale, a visit that afternoon. With the proper application of pressure, flattery, and alcohol, Zane had learned Gale was in town for the same reason all the other abditus were: to meet Beth Farns.

Gale had informed him Miss Farns was holding court every evening at Volst Hall. After the application of a little more pressure, a bit more flattery, and a lot more alcohol, Gale had agreed to let Zane be his guest at tonight’s dinner.

Zane had been in Volst Hall once before, and that had been to kill a man. He hadn’t used the main entrance on that moonless night.

Zane gave his name at the gate and was told to proceed through to the entrance where someone would be waiting to stable his horse. He urged Pluck forward and started down the curvy stone path, and he felt a pang of unease as the gate shut behind him.

Tall, elaborately carved hedges grew on both sides of the path, casting long shadows over the stone. As he made his way forward, the candles resting on the ground levitated to eye level, then descended and settled gently to the path after he passed. Zane shook his head. The wealth of the Society was absurd. The magical candles alone must have cost more than most of the homes in Zane’s neighborhood.

The hedges were carved into the likenesses of famous abditus. There was Gost. And Beverman. And Harriet Volst, the most famous of the lot and the woman after whom the hall was named. All Barnes abditus. He looked at the hedge to his right, and saw it was carved into the shape of Garrett Hans, the abditus who’d devised a thorn that could light the inside of a man on fire. He must have been lovely company. Zane decided these hedges were carved with magic. No way the Society would do actual labor when an overly elaborate and expensive magical solution would do just as well.

Zane rounded a bend and saw the hall. The sky was fully dark now—perhaps some time bending trick had made the journey down the path take longer than it should have, or maybe the darkness was magically induced. God, he hated magic.

He dismounted Pluck and handed the reins to the pageboy waiting near the door.

“You treat the animals with any magics?” Zane asked the boy.

“Of course, sir.” The boy’s voice was a nervous squeak. “We apply a balm that induces a dreamless sleep, and another that revives them so they’re fully refreshed and alert when you need them back. He’ll seem like a fresh horse when you next see him, sir.”

Zane flipped the boy a copper. “No balms. No magics. Just fresh hay, you hear?”

The boy nodded, a curious look on his face, and made the coin disappear into his coat.

“And keep him saddled.”

“Planning on making a quick exit, sir?” The boy had a chuckle in his voice.

“Not planning on it, but not planning against it either.” Zane turned and entered Volst Hall.

Gale was waiting for him near the door. The man seemed to have sobered up a bit, and he had a sheen of nervous sweat on his brow. “Mr. Halloway.”

Zane nodded a greeting. “Not regretting inviting me, are you?”

Gale shook his head. “Of course not. But do understand that, as the one who invited you, I’m held responsible for any rules you break. No weapons may be drawn here.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself.” Zane glanced past Gale into the banquet room where at least one hundred guests were seated. “Shall we?”

“Of course, of course.” Gale followed Zane into the hall. “Though, I must warn you I won’t be staying long. Lots to do.”

“That’s fine,” Zane said distantly as he took in the room.

Carafes of wine whizzed through the air from table to table, filling glasses and then floating back to the kitchen. Dozens of servants stood along the walls, their hands folded neatly behind their backs. Again, Zane felt a wave of disgust at the unnecessary use of magic. “Must be a whole mess of glides hidden somewhere in this room to make the drinks levitate like that, am I right, Mr. Gale?”

“Mr. Halloway, please!” Gale hissed at him. “Try to remember you’re a guest in this hall. A guest starts asking questions about how magical devices work, and people start getting nervous.”

“Sorry,” Zane muttered. “Where are we sitting?”

Gale pointed to a table in the far corner, as far from the head table as was possible without leaving the room. “Not the grandest of seats, but still…”

Then Zane spotted her. She stood near the head table, wearing a long, colorful dress that hung loosely on her. Her auburn hair was just the right combination of styled and mussed. But the most striking thing about her was the silver tear-shaped medallion that hung from a chain around her neck. He could tell from the way the eyes of those around the room followed her, this was Beth Farns.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

“Wait,” Gale called after him, but Zane was already crossing the room.

He stopped ten feet away from the woman. He waited for her to notice him and when she did, he approached with a calm, casual smile. “Miss Farns, I presume.”

She nodded. “Beth is fine tonight. We’re among friends.”

He shook her hand, holding on just a moment longer than was polite. “It’s an honor. My name’s Zane Halloway.”

She tilted her head. “Are you an abditus?”

He gave a tiny shake of the head. “Ferox, actually.”

Her eyes widened a bit. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met a real live ferox. But the stories I’ve heard… Is it true one of your lot killed the pirate Longstrain ten years back?”

His smile widened. “My Society is concerned with finding lost things. Any rumors you’ve heard to the contrary are quite unfounded, I’m sure.”

“Have it your way. But I’ll get more out of you yet.” She turned toward the head table. “Henry, be a dear and set another place.” One of the servants rushed forward and began laying out silverware “Mr. Halloway, you must eat with us. I’m fascinated by your line of work.”

He nodded his ascent.

A short, round man with a thinning crop of hair nudged in next to Beth Ferns. “Isn’t there a proverb about not inviting a ferox to eat at your table? Beth, if it were anyone but you—”

“I’ve learned not to listen to proverbs.” She nodded toward the short man. “Mr. Halloway, this is Eric Warbler. He’s the head of the Society.”

Zane shook his hand. “Then you’re the man to see about returning my magic shoes. The seller promised me I’d be able to leap seven leagues.”

“You’re funny, Mr. Halloway,” Warbler said. “Come. Sit with us.”

The first course was served only minutes after Zane sat down. Gale gave Zane a puppy dog look from across the room, but Zane subtly waved him away. The man had served his purpose.

The food arrived on floating platters. The duck came out cold, which was just an excuse for a magical flame to leap out of thin air and roast the meat ten feet above their heads. Zane frowned.  He’d long heard the Abditus Society had grown lax in its disciplines, but he hadn’t expected this level of spectacle. He would have thought the craft would be taken at least a little seriously here.

“How much do you know about the magical arts?” Beth asked Zane between courses. The whole table turned with her every question. She was a star among stars here at the head table.

Zane gave her a thin smile. “Just the bits I learned in school. Glides move objects in a blur. Tangles protect, and balms cure. Shimmers change the way we see, and thorns can hurt your enemy.” He dabbed at his face with his napkin. “Something like that, anyway. It’s been a while.”

“Good heavens,” Warbler said with a laugh. “I haven’t heard that poem in forty years!”

“What types of magics do you use in your line of work?” The question came from an older woman with an impossibly long neck. She sat on the other side of Warbler. “Shimmers, I’d imagine. And thorns, surely. Do you use glides?”

“None at all, actually,” Zane said.

“No glides?”

“No magics.”

The table went silent.

After a moment, Warbler said, “He’s just protecting his trade secrets. No shame in that.”

“No, it’s the truth,” Zane said.

Beth leaned toward him. “Why would a ferox avoid using something that would give him a clear advantage? The way I understand it, you lot are always sneaking around, trying to go unseen.”

Zane silently cursed himself for getting sucked into this conversation. But he couldn’t help himself. “If I were to use a shimmer, for example, I would need to worry about counter magics. And the limitations of my shimmer device. And any unexpected side effects.”

“Forgive me for saying so,” Warbler said. “But that’s a bit like saying, I think I’ll walk across the country because if I had a horse I’d have to worry about the possibility of it throwing a shoe.”

Zane shrugged. “I understand your point of view, but I find there are simpler and easier ways. I’d prefer to find the right shadow to hide in rather than trusting my fate to some illusion.” The silence at the table told him it was time to change the subject. “My turn. Is it true what the legends say about the old abditus? That they used to be able to perform magic with their bare hands? Without embedding the magic into an object?”

A wave of laughter ran up and down the table.

“Every Society has its legends,” Warbler said. “And I suspect they’re all equally false. Or, is there actually a ferox who can look into your eyes and make you jump out a window?”

“Why don’t you look into my eyes and find out?” Zane asked.

This time the laughter at the table was a roar.

“In truth, magic isn’t as exciting as people think,” Warbler said. “It’s mostly reading books and combining elements. Of course, the resulting pure magics are far too volatile for humans to control, so they have to be diluted into a sort of paste. Then it’s a matter of figuring out new ways to apply that paste to imbue objects with magical powers. You pick your branch, be it thorns or shimmers or whatever, you read everything ever written on the subject, and—if God smiles on you—maybe you add a paragraph or two of your own to the body of work by the time you’re done.”

“Unless you’re Irving Farns,” the woman with the long neck said.

“Hear, hear,” Warbler said. “Mr. Halloway, it’s your lucky night. Miss Farns has agreed to a demonstration of one of her father’s new tangles.”

Zane raised an eyebrow. “I think I’d like to see that.”

“You and everyone else in this hall.” Warbler waved to a servant. “Clear the tables, please.”

The servant nodded, and reached into his jacket. The plates, silverware, and cups all levitated off the table and drifted toward the kitchen. The dishes at the other tables did the same.

“I hope they were finished,” Zane said to Beth.

“They’re not here for the food. Most of them barely touched it. They’re too excited.” She looked a bit paler than she had a few moments ago.

“You nervous?” he asked.

She turned to look at him. “Yes.”

Her blunt and honest answer surprised Zane. “If these new tangles are everything they say—”

“It’s not that.” Beth nodded toward Warbler and spoke softly. “Our host has been tinkering with a thorn of his own invention for the better part of twenty years. It’s just a minor twist on a very old idea, but he thinks it’s revolutionary. He’s planning to use it tonight in the hopes of overpowering my new tangle.” She put her hand on Zane’s leg and leaned close. “He wants to prove he’s more than just a politician.”

“He told you all this?”

Beth looked away. “No. But it’s a poorly kept secret. His mistress likes to talk. And now I’m left in the awkward position of having to embarrass the head of the Society.”

Before Zane could reply, Warbler stood up and said in a booming voice, “If I could please have everyone’s attention!”

The room grew still.

“As you all know, Miss Farns has traveled a long way to be with us. As if her conversation wasn’t enough, she’s also made some rather exciting claims about her father’s latest work.” He paused for a long moment, a poorly hidden smile on his face. “I’m thrilled to say she’s agreed to demonstrate one of those new tangles tonight.”

A collective murmur of approval ran through the room.

Warbler continued. “The great difficulty in demonstrating a tangle is you need an equally impressive thorn to test it against. That’s why I will serve as the thornsman.”

This was met with a polite smattering of applause. The tight expression on Warbler’s face showed he’d been expecting more. “Right. Miss Farns, would you join me, please?”

Beth nodded and both parties moved to the large open area in front of the table.

Warbler held aloft an object that looked like a small stone. “In the grand tradition of the Society heads of yore, I will be using a thorn of my own design.” He looked at Beth, and Zane saw her lame attempt to feign surprise. “This thorn delivers a wave of concussive force that knocks the opponent across the room. Most tangles simply seek to dull a blow, so they’re ineffective against the wave of power this thorn delivers. I have done extensive private testing, and I’ve yet to meet the tangle that can effectively stop it.” He turned to Beth. “Would you like to say anything about your tangle?”

“No,” she said.

Warbler grunted. “Very well. Let me know when you’re ready.”

She turned toward him and folded her hands at her waist. “I am.”

He nodded. “My apologies in advance if you break a rib or two. We have balms at the ready.”

He squeezed the thorn tight in his hand, letting out a grunt of effort as he did so.

Nothing happened.

Warbler looked at the object in his hand, confused. He again squeezed it hard. Again, nothing.

“I don’t understand,” Warbler said.

“Anyone else have a thorn?” Beth asked. Her voice was relaxed and easy, yet it filled the room.

A dozen hands shot up.

“If I could have all of you up here, please?”

Nine men and three women approached.

“Now, go ahead and attack me.”

The twelve abditus looked at each other. A woman said, “All at once, Miss Farns?”

“Yes. All at once. And hold nothing back.”

Hands went into pocketbooks and jackets and emerged with various types of thorns, objects disguised as coins, cigars, quills, and—in one case—a wand.

“Attack on three, please,” Beth said. “One. Two. Three.”

The twelve abditus held their thorns aloft. Again, nothing happened. The abditus looked at each other, perplexed.

“As you can see,” Beth said, “my father has created a tangle that disables any thorn used against it.”

Zane felt the atmosphere in the room change. Where a moment ago there had been palatable excitement, there was now a heavy discomfort. Zane understood. A tangle that disabled thorns could put many of them out of business.

Zane knew he shouldn’t speak, but he couldn’t help it. “How’s it do against a knife?”

All heads swung toward him.

Beth smiled. “Do you happen to have one?”

He had four, but he saw no reason to let the world know that. “I do. But I’ve been told drawing a weapon in this hall is against the rules.

“If our Society leaders will suspend that rule for a few moments?” she asked.

Warbler still looked dumbstruck. He nodded absently.

“There you are,” Beth said.

Zane thought for a moment. He didn’t want to hurt this woman. And he really didn’t want this roomful of people to see the extent of his prowess. He had yet to meet the tangle that held up to a simple knife. Indeed, he often relied on people putting too much trust in their expensive protective magics. He didn’t want to publicly demonstrate how ineffective even the best of them were.

But, if he threw the knife, there was a chance her tangle could deflect it. And if he aimed at the hem of her long dress, tried to pin it to the floor, no one would know he hadn’t been aiming for her body. They would believe she’d deflected the throw and he could sleep a bit more easily knowing these fancy new tangles were no match for his hard-won skills.

He produced a knife with a flourish that made it appear he was pulling it from thin air. The gasp of surprise from the crowd made him smile. Nothing like fooling a roomful of abditus with a little slight of hand.

He flipped the knife in the air and caught it by the blade. “You ready?” he asked her.

She nodded, a smile on her face.

He could make this throw blindfolded. Literally. To give himself a minor challenge, he focused on a particular wrinkle in the hem of her dress. That would be his target. He brought the knife back over his shoulder and prepared to throw.

“Your horse, sir?”

“What?” Zane blinked hard and looked into the darkness around him. He was outside. Pluck and the pageboy stood in front of him. His stomach lurched and a wave of vertigo washed over him. “What’s happening?”

“I left him saddled like you asked,” the pageboy said.

Zane shook his head to clear it. Being aware of his surroundings, being prepared for every possibility, these were the hallmarks of his trade, the things that kept him alive. And he had no idea what had happened and how he’d gotten here. A moment ago he’d been holding his knife aloft in preparation to throw it, and now…

“Excuse me. I need to find Miss Farns.”

“But she left, sir,” the boy said. “They all did. Nearly an hour ago. You’re the last one here.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Lily’s first problem was getting inside the hall of public records.

She counted six guards near the front entrance. She briefly considered bribing them—Zane provided her money for such things—but it was too risky. They might arrest her just for trying. Even if they didn’t, they would remember the strange woman who’d tried to buy entrance.

She circled the building, sidestepping the horse manure. She found what she needed in the back. There were three windows all in a row about thirty feet up. The first was too close to the street; there was a chance she would be seen by the young men on the corner. The one in the middle was better, but it was parallel to a window in the building across the alley. But the last window was perfect. That part of the building was draped in shadows, and her dark clothing would blend in nicely. She certainly wouldn’t be invisible, but she would be a lot less noticeable than if she climbed to the first two windows. People rarely looked up at the side of a building anyway, so the key was just not to draw the eye.

She started up the wall before she could second guess herself.

The wall had been roughly assembled, and it had plenty of  irregularities she could use as hand and footholds. She pressed her body against the stone and let her legs do the work, just like Zane had taught her, using her arms mostly for balance. She didn’t hurry, but she didn’t stop at any point, either. Her ascent was fluid and swift.

Lily glanced in through the window, and what she saw pleased her. It was dim and empty in this wing of the building. She pulled herself through the window and started climbing down the inside wall.

The descent took a bit longer since she had to make her way down by feel, searching blindly for each foothold before she could move downward, but soon she was on solid ground.

She brushed the grit off her hands and clothes, wiped the sweat from her brow, and went searching for the public records.

She made her way toward the northeast wing.

Lily’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness. There were more books than she’d ever seen in her life. Shelves upon shelves. It was no wonder they didn’t let the public in here. A man could walk out with a month’s salary stuffed under his shirt.

It was too dark to read comfortably. She waited, practicing stillness, until she was able to see well enough to make out the handwritten labels on the books. It was a lengthy process. She stared at a book about five feet away from her and could immediately make out a capital C in the middle but not much else. She took deep, slow breaths until she could clearly read: Barnes 647 AG Census Vol. 43. Satisfied, she started toward the back of the wing.

She found the section containing the Abditus Society documents easily enough, and it didn’t take her long to locate the volumes that contained the apprenticeship records.

Lily heard a sound, and she ducked behind a bookshelf and waited. Before long, the sound of rattling lungs struggling to take in air joined the sounds of the footsteps. Then a warm glow of light flickered down the passageway.

She risked a glance around the corner and saw an old man with only a few strands of hair sticking out of his head. He wore heavy robes and carried a candle enclosed in a protective orb. The orb was intended to prevent a fire if the candle were dropped, or so Lily guessed.

The man moved toward one of the shelves and ran a long, gnarled finger along the spines before finally stopping on one and clucking his tongue in approval. He flipped pages for what seemed like an hour before finally grunting, letting out an explosive fart, and pulling a scrap of parchment and a quill out of his left sleeve. He muttered to himself as he scratched at the parchment with the quill, making marks far too small for Lily to read at this distance.

He rolled up the parchment and slid it back up his sleeve.

As he turned to go, he paused for just a moment and looked around slowly, his brow furrowed. Lily held her breath. Had he somehow spotted her? Impossible. Stealth was one of the areas she most excelled. Not that Zane would come out and tell her so, but she noticed a lack of annoyance on his face when they practiced stealth maneuvers.

After a few tense moments, the old man turned and walked briskly down the aisle.

She briefly considered leaving. There was a chance—a small one, but a chance—the old man had noticed her. The safe move was to assume he had. But the thought of returning to Zane empty handed and seeing the almost-but-not-quite imperceptible disappointment on his face was too much. She had to see this through.

Lily waited until the echo of the old man’s footfalls drifted away before emerging from her place in the shadows. She went back to the book and started flipping through it.

The most difficult part was figuring out the organizational system. At first, she’d thought it was cataloged chronologically, but that theory quickly broke down. It clearly wasn’t alphabetically.

It took her ten minutes to crack it. The volume was organized by magical branch of study, which made an odd sort of sense, but the materials within each section were organized geographically.

She rubbed her temples and shook her head to clear it before continuing. This would be easier if she had a map of the city, but she wasn’t about to dig through these dusty old stacks searching for one. That could easily take her the rest of the afternoon. She had a vague idea of where Graze’s shop was located, and so was able to narrow down her search.

She turned another page and there it was: Baldwin Graze (Thorns & Tangles). List of apprentices.

It appeared the elder Graze had taken two apprentices at a time, one to learn thorns and one to learn tangles. She found what she was looking for halfway down the list: George Vander (Thorns) & Irving Farns (Tangles).

She tapped her finger on the page as she thought. She’d never heard of an abditus named George Vander. Not that she knew many abditus by name; she was hardly an expert in the field. But if Vander and Irving had been through the grueling apprenticeship process together, Vander likely knew Irving as well as anyone. At least, he had at one time. It would be a place to start.

She suddenly wondered if there was a record of ferox apprentices in this room. Peter hadn’t mentioned whether the Ferox Society was allowed to keep their own records. Was her name in one of these books? And did the same book also have the names of Zane’s past apprentices? The ones he never talked about?

As she was about to close the book, something on the facing page caught her eye. She blinked hard, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

Rebecca Waters (Thorns). List of apprentices. Gilbert Locke. Lisa Howard. Jacob Von Ridden. Zane Halloway.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be her Zane. She knew his feelings on magic. He used magical devices only when absolutely necessary, and he loathed those who relied on them for everyday tasks.

If he had apprenticed as an abditus—as a thornsman no less—he must know a lot more about magic than he let on. Why had he left that field? How had he become a ferox?

A voice behind her interrupted her thoughts.

“Ma’am, please turn around slowly. Hands out, palms up.”

The voice was low and gruff.

Lily squeezed her eyes shut. The old man must have seen her. If he worked here and spent his days in the silence of the records, maybe he’d been able to hear her breathing. He could have gone back and checked if anyone was signed in. And since no one was, he could have sent in the guard.

She should have taken off as soon as the old man had left. No use worrying about that now. Hindsight is only useful if you’re a wetlander, as the saying went.

So far, the man had only seen her from behind. She was confident she’d be able to take him out before he got a good look at her face.

Whatever happened, she couldn’t be captured. Zane’s disappointment if she returned empty handed would be nothing compared to his anger if she were thrown in jail. Not only would it mean he’d have to pay for her release, but it would reflect poorly on him. It could mean the end of her apprenticeship. She wouldn’t allow that to happen.

She held out her empty hands, palm up, just as the guard had ordered. She turned very slowly, trying to get the man’s position in her peripheral vision before she attacked. She saw him, a huge man shaped like a pile of rocks. He was big but likely slow.

Then she saw something else just behind him. Two something elses.

There were three guards.

“Slowly,” the man said.

Lily kept turning toward them as her mind raced. She’d never fought this many men at once. In training, sure, but not for real. Zane occasionally brought in a few men to spar against her. These guards were all bigger than her usual training partners.

She had to make every strike count. Every blow had to disable one of them. They had her beat in strength, size, and reach. But Lily—she had speed.

She went for the closest man first, the one who’d spoken to her. Lunging forward, she drove her fist into his throat, delivering a sharp, powerful punch that would leave him struggling for breath the rest of the fight.

In one fluid motion, Lily turned toward the man next to him and stomped hard on the outside of his knee, driving it down to the floor at an angle the joint wasn’t meant to bend. The man yelped like an injured animal and went down.

The third man was struggling to get his sword free of its scabbard, one hand on the hilt and one on the sheath. He kept pulling on the sword while Lily scurried toward him, set her feet, and delivered an uppercut that rocked him back on his heels. She pressed the attack, delivering a series of jabs to the man’s face. She threw one final punch and broke his nose. He fell to his knees, blood and tears streaming down his face.

She turned back to the second man. Remarkably, he was trying to stand up. He used his sword like a cane to push himself to his feet. Lily felt conflicting waves of admiration and disgust. The man was only doing his job—he seemed exceedingly dedicated to the task of bringing her to justice—but standing wasn’t worth the price he was about to pay for it.

“Come on,” he said, supporting himself on his sword.

Her leg shot forward, sweeping the sword out from under him. As he fell, she stomped on his other knee, and he yelped again. No way he was getting up now.

Lily looked at the three downed men, two struggling for breath and one unable to stand, but all alive. Zane would be pleased. He was stoutly against killing anyone for free.

It was dim in the hall, and she’d been moving quickly. They wouldn’t be able to identify her. And even if they had seen her face, it wasn’t likely they’d recognize her. Who was she, anyway? Just some shabbily dressed girl with dark skin.

She walked away from the three men and began to climb toward the high window.

CHAPTER SIX

Zane sat in his study, his eyes closed, thinking about tangles.

He was considering the particulars of this case, of killing a man who’d invented revolutionary applications for protective magics, when he heard the window open upstairs.

He produced a knife from his sleeve and turned toward the door. The sitting room had no windows.

It was Lily. He knew it had to be her, coming in through the window to avoid possible attacks by the Eakhart children. The thought of those kids and their ingenuity usually made him smile. But not now. Someone was entering his home, and though it was almost certainly Lily, there was the slight chance it wasn’t. It could be an assassin out to make a name for himself. Or it could be Zane’s former apprentice, the only one who still lived. Or one of the pirate Longstrain’s many widows, all of whom had vowed revenge against the assassin who’d killed their beloved husband. It could be any one of a dozen enemies or someone he’d never heard of who hated him for reasons he would never know.

Or it could be Jacob Von Ridden.

Zane held the knife loosely but securely in his hand. If that door opened and it was anyone but Lily, anyone at all, they would have a blade buried in their eye before they made it two steps into the room.

After what had happened at Volst Hall, he was feeling less confident about his ability to protect himself.

Zane heard the light footfall of a woman or a small man with some good bit of training. From the other side of the door, a voice said, “It’s Lily. May I enter?”

He relaxed, but only a little. A good assassin never completely relaxed, even around his apprentice. Especially around his apprentice. “Come in.”

He looked her up and down as Lily entered. Dust covered her cloak, and her hands were red and swollen.

“You’ve been climbing,” he said. “And…fighting?”

Her eyes widened with surprise. She was getting better at hiding her emotions, but she still slipped now and again.

“Yes,” she said.

He just nodded. “What did you find out?”

She slid across the room, moving in an effortless way that always reminded him of a spider. She dropped into the chair across from him. “I have a lead.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Good. Tell me.”

“Another boy apprenticed for Graze during the same time period Farns did. A guy named Vander. Vander focused on thorns while Farns focused on tangles.”

He allowed himself to smile, just a little. “Good. And how does that help us?”

“Vander may have stayed in touch with Farns, right? I mean, you apprentice with someone, you probably become friends.”

“Possibly,” Zane allowed.

“And if not, he can still give us insight into Farns’s character. His temperament. All the stuff you say we should investigate before going after a target.”

“Good,” Zane said again. “The biggest problem is locating Farns. If George Vander can’t help us with that, he can at least give us background information.”

The joy on Lily’s face disappeared. “I never told you his first name. You already knew about Vander?”

“Oh yes. George Vander was the most important thornsman in the world ten or fifteen years ago. I didn’t send you to find the information for my sake. You needed to find it for yourself. You need to practice your social skills.” He glanced at her swollen knuckles. “How’d that go, by the way?”

Her face reddened. “I had to hurt some people. But I didn’t beat the information out of them, if that’s what you’re thinking. Some guards caught me where I shouldn’t have been, and I had to avoid capture.”

“How many of them?”

“Three.”

Zane nodded and allowed his smile to return. “Very good. But your social skills still need work. George Vander owns a shop on the Southside. At least, he did. It was very popular before the neighborhood went to hell.”

“Where on the Southside?” Lily asked.

“Far Southside. Near the elvish ghetto.”

Her face went pale.

“I said near, not in. Go to Vander’s place and see if the shop’s still there. If it is, find out what he knows. And please—” he glanced at her battered knuckles “—use words, not fists.”

She grimaced, then nodded. “So you’re taking the job.”

He rubbed his chin. “I didn’t say that. I’m considering.” He saw the impatience on her face. “What do you think? Should I take the job?”

Lily got to her feet and began pacing. Good. That meant she was giving it real thought. “I’m not sure. I mean, we don’t know anything about this guy. He could be the incarnation of evil or one of God’s own saints. We just don’t know.”

Zane decided to press her a bit. He was still trying to figure out what type of assassin she would someday become. Would she be the kind who killed for justice? Or the kind who killed for the highest bidder? Or would she be something else, something like Zane? “And is that what matters? His moral standing?”

She ran a hand through her long black hair “It’s not irrelevant. It’s like you taught me. We take life and we have to take that very seriously. So, yes, we have to know about our target. That’s why you’re sending me to Vander’s, right?”

He leaned forward in his seat. So far she was just miming his own words back to him. He needed to push her further. “Okay then. It’s about morals. Let me give you a situation. A poor man, a man who can’t possibly pay your fees, somehow finds out what you do for a living. He comes to you and asks you to kill his brother-in-law. The brother-in-law is abusing the man’s sister and their children to the point that the man’s afraid for their lives. Do you kill the brother-in-law?”

“Sure. I’d investigate the situation, but, if it all checks out, I don’t see why not. If the cause is just, why not use our skills?”

“Fine,” Zane said. “A few weeks later another poor man shows up at your door. The first poor man told him about you. Someone raped this man’s wife. The rapist bribed the lawmen and they will do nothing. Will you help him, too?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I’ll kill a rapist.”

“Good. Now more people who are unable to pay are coming to you. They all want someone killed, and many of them are very good at explaining why it’s morally right to do so. And now you’ve opened yourself to listening to dozens of pitches from people asking you to do your job for free. If the requestor is eloquent enough, you might just do it. And now you’ve gone from being a professional who does a difficult job for a fair price to being a vigilante willing to kill for those who present a compelling enough argument.”

She squinted at him. “So your message is that we shouldn’t let morals weigh into our decisions?”

Zane shrugged. “I’m simply saying if morals are your guiding compass, you’re a crusader, not an assassin. And people will expect you to work for free. Let’s not pretend our job is moral. Maybe our role is simply to perform our function as expertly as possible.”

She pointed a finger at him. “But you’ve told me deciding which jobs to take is the most important part of what we do.”

“Did I?” he asked.

“And you wouldn’t spend so long deciding whether to accept a job if you didn’t care about the morals.” She smiled. “I think you’re testing me.”

He stood up and made the knife disappear into his sleeve. “Perhaps you’re right. Or perhaps you’re wrong. Maybe I’m just trying to figure out if this Farns job is challenging enough to be worth my while.”

The smile melted off her face.

“Get some sleep,” Zane said. “Tomorrow you’ll go to Vander. Find out what he knows. Bring me what you find and then I’ll decide whether or not to take the job.”

Lily frowned, brushed the dust off her cloak, and turned to go, her face a confused mess of emotions.

Good. She could spend the night thinking about it. Maybe she would start forming her own ideas on what she would and wouldn’t kill for.

Zane closed his eyes and thought about tangles.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lily covered her head with the hood of her dark green cloak and kept her eyes down, hoping not to attract attention.

Growing up, her family had been far from wealthy. They were farmers living on land owned by a lord who took a bit more every year. It had always been a struggle to stay one step ahead of whatever was needed next. Her few friends had been in similar circumstances. She would have likely remained there her whole life had it not been for the results of her Tens tests.

Her Tens showed she had remarkable aptitude in areas she would have never considered, as had Peter’s, though in a very different field.

When she’d become Zane’s apprentice years later, the most difficult part of the transition had been learning to appear natural in the circles Zane traveled. His clientele came from the headiest heights of the upper class, so Zane had taught her how to visit sprawling family manors without gawking at every tapestry like the commoner she was. She’d learned how to hold conversations with lords and ladies—people who wore clothing that cost more than the home she’d grown up in—without blushing.

She’d soon developed an ability to blend in, to go unnoticed in a room full of people. She found she could drift back a few steps, angle her body into the shadows just so, and people tended to forget she existed. Which was exactly how she liked it.

The neighborhood she was entering now was the opposite of those lofty manors. It was equally uncomfortable, but for different reasons. The way these people had to live tugged at her soul.

The streets were covered in filth, both human and horse. The houses crowded together so close the neighbors could lean out their windows and shake hands, and many of the houses leaned at alarming angles. The streets were loud, too. Children running and playing, oblivious to the filth, women calling to the children, and men barking orders at other men. Everyone shouting.

And then there was the Blue Wall, so named because of the eerie way it glowed in the moonlight. She could see it as she walked. It was less than a block to the south, and it towered over this neighborhood and cast a shadow under which these people spent their lives.

The only thing worse than the Blue Wall was the thought of what was on the other side of it: the elvish ghetto.

She shuddered just looking at the stone structure.

Lily turned her eyes and her thoughts elsewhere.

A few minutes later, she stopped in front of a small shop and looked up at the sign. Vander’s. And below that in smaller, elegant letters, World-Class Thorns. The sign hung askew; it was a wonder the thing hadn’t fallen and caved in someone’s head. It had been tasteful once, she could tell that much, but the letters were peeling now. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

A tiny bell announced her entry into the dim shop, and as she stepped inside a man sprinted out of the backroom. When he saw her, he made a visible effort to change the frantic expression on his face to one more befitting a cordial shopkeeper.

He clasped his hands in front of him and smiled. He was still out of breath, and his voice sounded strained when he spoke. “Good morning, miss. How may I help you today?”

The man looked to be in his mid-forties; too young to be Vander. A son maybe? Or an employee? On the other hand, this seemed like a one-man operation, and a sloppy one at that.

She cast her eyes around the dusty shop. The merchandise was set haphazardly on the shelves. She couldn’t see any order to their placement. This seemed like the type of shop that sold magics likely to backfire on their users

“Is Mr. Vander here?” Lily asked.

The man’s smile looked artificial, as if frozen on his face. “He’s not. He retired years ago.”

Lily clenched her teeth. Another morning wasted and another social assignment she’d failed.

“My name’s Wen,” the man continued. “I promise I can help you just as well as Mr. Vander could. You’re looking for thorns?”

“I’m looking for information,” she said, and from the way the man’s face grew cold she knew it’d been the wrong thing to say. She was coming on too strong. Again. Damn these social assignments.

“We deal in thorns here. Not information. If you’re looking to incapacitate, injure, or otherwise dispatch an enemy, I can help you. Otherwise, I’ll wish you a fine day.”

Lily had to try another approach, and quickly. She looked around the shop. “I’m curious why a shop that sells thorns has such a problem with shoplifters.”

His jaw went slack. “How did you—”

“Please.”

She’d known the instant he’d come running out of that backroom at the sound of the doorbell, like a man defending his home from intruders rather than a shopkeeper greeting customers. “Let me guess, they come in groups, teenagers mostly. They spread out so it’s hard to keep an eye on all of them. Then they start asking questions, distracting you, deflecting your attention back and forth to different corners of the store until one or more of them can slip something into a pocket. But aren’t they afraid of the thorns? Seems like an awfully dangerous shop to steal from.”

Wen sighed. “It adds to the challenge. They look much better in front of their friends after stealing from a thornsman. And what am I supposed to do? If I use a thorn on one of those kids, I’ll hear it from the Abditus Society. I could lose my shop. Besides, I don’t even know which one of them is doing it most of the time. There are so many of them. What can I do? Zap them?”

“Absolutely,” Lily said. “Take a smaller thorn, maybe something that produces fire, and leave it on that shelf in that corner over there. No real customer is going to wander over to the spookiest corner in a thorn shop and start picking stuff up. So, you leave it activated, an aspiring criminal gets a few severe burns, and maybe they leave you alone for a while.”

“And maybe he drops the thorn and burns down my shop.”

Lily shrugged. “Okay, maybe not a fire thorn then. Got anything with spikes?”

Wen smiled. “I like the way you think.”

She kept her face calm, but on the inside she was absolutely beaming. She was engaging in social banter! Which could lead to actual social discussion. Which could lead to information. “I was wondering if you would answer a few questions about Vander.”

His smile shrank just a hair. “Sure. If you answer me one first. Who the hell are you and why the hell are you asking about Vander?”

She paused for only a moment before speaking. “It’s a legal matter. There’s been a dispute about who created a thorn a man on the north side of town has been selling. He’s been doing very well. Some members of the Abditus Society suspect it’s a rip off of one of Vander’s creations. If it’s found Vander has a legal claim to the device, he’ll be looking at a significant financial settlement.”

Wen was standing very still now. “Is that so?”

Lily nodded. “We’d be willing to award you a finder’s fee if you can help us find him.” She pulled four gold pieces out of her pocket and showed them to the man.

His eyes grew wide, and she silently cursed. She’d flashed too much coin.

“That’s got to be a quarter of a throne there,” Wen said. “You must want him bad.”

Lily said nothing, but she slipped her other hand into her cloak and clutched at the handle of her dagger.

He nodded toward the hand in her cloak. “That’s how it is? The coin if I talk and the blade if I don’t.”

“As I said, this is an important matter to the Abditus Society.”

Wen sighed. “I don’t believe your story for a moment. You out to kill him or just to arrest him?”

“Neither,” she said. “I just need to ask him some questions.”

He thought about that for a moment. “Damn shame. I would have told you all about the old man if I’d thought you were going to kill him.”

She kept her face still. Give away nothing, Zane always said, not even a smile.

He nodded toward the backroom. “Come on back then. You bring the gold and I’ll pour the drinks.”

She followed him through the doorway and into the dank living quarters. He led her into the small kitchen. He brushed the crumbs off the two chairs on either side of the small table and gestured for her to sit. He pulled the stopper out of a bottle of dark liquid, and the smell of alcohol drifted to Lily’s nose.

“Want a drink?” he asked.

Lily flashed back to the ship captain who’d asked her the same thing a few days earlier. Men were always offering her drinks and they never expected her to accept them. One of these days, she’d surprise them. But not today.

“No thank you. I never accept a drink from an abditus. No offense.”

He laughed at that. “Good policy, but not something you have to worry about with me. What do you want to know about Vander?”

“Tell me how you came to know him,” she said.

Wen took a long pull off the bottle of liquor before speaking. “How do you think? I was his apprentice.”

There it was. It always came back to that, didn’t it? Sins and stories were passed down from master to apprentice over and over for all of time.

“And you decided to stay on with him after your apprenticeship ended?”

He chuckled. “Not exactly. More like this was the island I stayed on after all the bridges around me had burned.”

Lily wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“Remember,” Wen said, “when you took your Tens? I assume it was the same for you as it was for me. A few weeks after the test, some men came to your home and told your family you’d be leaving to start your formal education. They didn’t say you had to go with them, but it was implied you would. Most parents don’t consider saying no if their child is selected as one of the special ones. The promise of a better life and all that.”

“I remember,” Lily said. It hadn’t gone that way for her, not exactly, but she wasn’t about to share the details.

“Well, when I got to the preparatory school, I overheard some of the teachers talking. They said I’d gotten the highest test score in abditus aptitude of anyone in my year. Fourth highest since Irving Farns himself.”

Lily did an admirable job of not reacting to the name Farns.

“I was scared, like everybody else,” Wen continued. “But having overheard that lit a fire inside of me. I worked hard and graduated top of my class.”

She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. The valedictorian had ended up here, living in squalor, worrying about shoplifters? Lily had only been third in her class.

“As you might imagine, I was thrilled when George Vander selected me to be his apprentice. I’d been interested in making glides. I love watching objects move through space. But when the most important thornsman of his era calls your name, you don’t say no.”

“Did he have this shop back then?” Lily asked.

“Oh yes. Most thornsmen concentrate on production and let merchants sell their products. Vander handled it all himself, creation to sale. And this place was something special back then. You should have seen it. People came from all over to buy Vander’s thorns. They weren’t even deterred by the proximity to the Blue Wall. This neighborhood was different then. Vander’s shop elevated the whole area.”

“So what happened?”

As soon as she’d asked the question, she realized it probably sounded rude. If so, Wen didn’t seem to notice.

“He put me to work running day-to-day operations here at the shop almost immediately. He’d disappear for days at a time, stopping in only periodically to drop off new inventory and check the books. At first, I thought he was testing me. Like he wanted to see how I handled myself before he trained me to make thorns. But it turned out that wasn’t the case. As he came to trust me more, his visits to the shop became less frequent. I often went weeks without seeing him. This went on for years. He’d show up with supplies of new thorns, check the accounts, and sign off on my progress toward becoming a thornsman. That was ridiculous, of course. He hadn’t taught me a damn thing. But when the master says you’re ready…”

“Yeah,” Lily said. She bit her lip. It was a bad situation, but hardly unheard of. In a system where apprenticeship was the only path to professional legitimacy, some professionals took advantage of the apprentices, using them more as slave labor than trainees. Lily knew she was lucky in that regard; Zane was hard on her at times, but he made sure she was learning.

“After a few years of shopkeeping, during which I learned absolutely nothing about thorn making, Vander called me into this kitchen and offered me a drink, same as I just offered you. He told me he was retiring. And then he really surprised me. He said he was giving me his shop, everything in it, and the rights to continue using his name on the sign.”

“He just gave it to you? No strings?”

“No strings.” Wen smiled bitterly. “I was thrilled. The shop was still popular then, and I was doing a fine job of running it, if I do say so. Owning the shop was my ticket to wealth. It would be easy money, and lots of it. Vander had a solicitor draw up the papers, we both signed, and I never saw him again.”

“So what happened?” Lily asked. “To the shop I mean?”

Wen grinned, revealing a set of teeth that looked too big for his mouth. “What, this doesn’t strike you as a thriving business?”

Lily shrugged. “I haven’t heard the doorbell chime since we’ve been sitting here chatting.”

“You won’t either. Not unless it’s those damn kids.” Wen took another drink. “Things went fine the first year or so. I had plenty of inventory. The money was rolling in as quickly as ever, and I got to keep every copper. Sure, the neighborhood was going a bit further downhill. But I wasn’t worried about that part of it. The neighborhood had never been the draw.”

“What were you worried about?”

He leaned in close and the smell of sweet liquor was powerful on his breath when he spoke. “The merchandise. By the end of that first year, I was beginning to run out of some of our more popular thorns. And I had no idea how to replace them. If your mentor doesn’t teach you anything, you don’t know how to do your job.”

Lily nodded and gave a sympathetic smile.

“I should have gone to the Abditus Society immediately. Asked for help. They probably would have taken the store from me, but they’d have given me a new mentor. It would have been worth it in the long run. I wasn’t thinking long term. I was just a kid. I was prideful.”

“What did you do?”

Wen chuckled. “I tried to figure out the thorns. Pulled them apart to see what made them tick. I had a natural aptitude for it, after all. Top of my class.”

“How’d that go for you?”

He held up his right hand, and she saw it was missing the ring and middle fingers. “Turns out you can’t see everything about how they work by pulling them apart. That’s why we call it magic. I started experimenting based on the limited knowledge I had from preparatory school. And I think I did an admirable job figuring it out, all things considered. I can make knockoffs of some of the most popular thorns around, and they even work like they’re supposed to seventy or eighty percent of the time. Wasn’t quite good enough for the customers, though. Turns out the rich are willing to step into the shadow of the  Blue Wall for the best thorns in the world, but not for slightly below average ones.”

“Why’d you stick it out?” Lily asked. She was genuinely curious. “Why not move? Close up shop and do something else?”

Wen shrugged. “Pride, I suppose. That’s part of it, anyway. Another part of me’s hoped George Vander would walk through that door someday and make things right. Maybe give me a whole new batch of thorns. You hear about Irving Farns’s daughter showing up at Volst Hall?”

“I did,” Lily said.

“Yeah, well, I guess I was hoping something like that would happen to me. I spent a lot of time and a lot of money looking for Vander, and now I have a lot less of both. By the time I finally found him, he was a broken down old man who couldn’t help me even if he wanted to.”

Lily leaned forward. “You know where he is?”

“I do,” Wen said, a wicked smile on his face. “And after you hand over those coins, I just might tell you.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“You’re not joking with me, are you?” Lily asked.

Zane sighed. “I’m not. I honestly didn’t know.”

She sat up a bit straighter in her saddle.

Zane rode Pluck and she rode a ghastly thin, pale horse she called Moon. The creature had come with her all the way from the farm she’d grown up on. The frail horse was breathing hard and struggling to keep up with Pluck, who barely seemed to notice they were moving. Zane couldn’t begrudge Lily for hanging onto a thing or two from home; he just wished it’d been a locket instead of an animal.

They were approaching a complex of buildings now, and it was dusk. Zane had planned it so they would arrive just after sundown. They were thirty miles outside of Barnes in the middle of nowhere. The Abditus Society clearly didn’t want to advertise the existence of this place. Zane hadn’t heard of it, and he made a practice of keeping his ears open about such things.

According to Lily, the shopkeeper had called this place the Oasis. Sort of a cross between an old folks home and an abditus club house. Elderly abditus could spend their twilight years here without having to worry about the usual hassles—namely curious folks wanting to learn the secrets of the magical trade.

Most people would be disappointed to learn how few secrets there really were. It was magic and it was unexplainable. But saying that implied there was no study or skill involved, and that certainly wasn’t the case.

The only way to learn about magic was to be selected to do so, to get the right answers on a certain section of your Tens. If you didn’t do well on that one section of that one test, you were out of luck forever. Maybe you didn’t have the aptitude, or perhaps you were just having a bad day. It didn’t matter; you were out of luck either way.

It worked the same for all skilled professions, of course, from physician to solicitor, but most people weren’t bitter about missing out on their chance to hold a quill or a scalpel. Being denied the secrets of the Abditus Society caused hard feelings in certain types of people.

Some wanted to learn the secrets of magic so badly they weren’t content to merely ask. They started demanding, and demanding violently. Elderly abditus made easy targets for such people.

It all seemed silly to Zane. Sure, magic was fascinating, mostly because of how little was known about it, but it wasn’t worth killing for. Zane had seen the inner workings of the abditus world and he hadn’t much liked it. Or maybe he just hadn’t liked the things it brought out in him.

The wall around the Oasis was high. Out here in the emptiness, it seemed almost as tall as the Blue Wall.

“What are you thinking?” Lily asked.

He looked at the wall and considered. He’d told her they would wait until they saw the place before deciding which approach to take, whether to enter covertly or do it official and by the book. Now that he was looking at the wall, he still wasn’t sure.

After a moment, he said, “Come on. We’ll swing around the back and try to find a place to tie our horses.”

The sun had dipped behind the horizon, and he could no longer see Lily’s face, but he could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke. “We gonna climb?”

“Not sure yet,” he said. He stretched his back muscles, which had tightened at the mere thought of climbing those walls. He’d do it if there wasn’t another way, but Lily was already excellent at climbing. Probably better than he was. She needed to practice new skills, not repeat the ones she’d already mastered. But after twenty minutes of inspecting the wall and not finding a way under or through, he turned back to her.

“We climb.”

She started up the wall before the second word had left his lips.

Zane put his hand on her arm. “No. Me first.”

He could see things embedded in the wall at seemingly random points. Objects that would be activated if touched. Things that would burn them, or shock them, or shoot spikes at them. Such magical devices were difficult to see even in the best of light. But if one knew what to look for and proceeded with caution, it was possible to avoid them, even in the dark.

“Watch were I put my hands and feet,” he told Lily. “Follow exactly.”

He started up the wall.

Of course this place would be crawling with thorns and tangles. The Abditus Society wanted their elder statesmen and stateswomen protected. But that wasn’t such a bad thing. The more magical objects they had, the more comfortable they felt, and the easier it would be for Zane to do his job.

After ten minutes of slow, careful climbing, Zane threw his leg over the top of the wall, then held out a hand to Lily, which she ignored.

The wall was barely wide enough for a man to stand on. Zane looked in both directions, searching for guards or watchmen who might be stationed up there. He saw no one, but there was something else.

He gently elbowed Lily and pointed toward a small disc to her left.

“Thorn?” she asked.

Zane nodded. “I’m guessing we don’t want to touch it. Keep your eyes open for—” He suddenly noticed the disc was emitting a gentle glow, and he cursed softly. “Start climbing. We need to get off the wall. Now.”

She nodded.

“It’s not a thorn; it’s a tangle,” he said in answer to her unasked question. He started down the wall, speaking softly as he climbed. “My guess is that somewhere in this complex, there’s a guards’ room, and in that room a similar looking disc is also glowing. If we’re very lucky, the guard isn’t paying attention.”

“And if we’re not?” she asked. She began climbing after him.

“Then the guards know we’re here and they probably know exactly where we are.”

“That’s not good,” Lily said with a grunt.

“My thoughts exactly.”

When they reached the ground, there was still no sign of guards.

The area around them was a large garden with plenty of thick grass perfect for wiggling your toes in and plenty of trees for sitting under on a sunny day. A stream ran through the grounds, which was a neat trick as Zane hadn’t seen one outside of the wall.

There were three buildings, one significantly larger than the rest.

Zane pointed to the large one. “That’ll be the resident’s apartments, I’ll bet.”

“What’s the plan?” Lily asked. “Go room to room until we find him?”

Zane said, “We need a tour guide.” There were still no guards, a fact that was starting to worry Zane a bit.

Lily started to speak, but Zane held up a hand to stop her. He thought he’d heard something, but the sound was gone. Or was it? There was something, but it was too quiet to be footsteps. Unless…

Zane put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

A tall, thin figure rounded the corner and let out a high-pitched yelp when he saw them. In a flash, Zane had the tip of his sword at the stranger’s long neck.

“Good evening,” Zane said. “We’re in need of a guide. Might you be available?”

Zane glanced at Lily. Her eyes were as big as silver coins.

“My God,” she said. “Is that…” She drifted off, unable to speak the words.

“Yes, it is,” Zane said. He turned back to the tall figure and said, “I’ll take your silence to mean you’re able to assist us.”

“The sword at my throat makes a convincing argument.” The elf’s voice had a strange sing-songy quality. It’d been years since Zane had spoken with one of their kind. He’d forgotten the way you needed to guard your thoughts around them; that voice was meant to lull you into a more suggestible state.

“Good,” Zane said. “We’re looking for George Vander. Would you please lead us to his quarters?”

The elf gave a tiny nod and then said, “Perhaps you would care to accompany me to my master’s chambers first. He would like to know we have guests. He’s most hospitable.”

Zane felt the words tickling the back of his brain, trying to convince him, but he steeled himself. He glanced at Lily. Her eyes had a far off, dreamy quality.

“Straight to Vander’s quarters, please,” Zane said. “I don’t wish to cut you.”

“I don’t wish that either,” the elf said. He paused another moment, as if waiting to see if his words would sink in and affect Zane. “Very well, then. Please follow me.”

He turned on his heel and walked in the peculiar gliding way of his kind.

Zane followed close behind, the point of his sword resting lightly on the elf’s back. He nudged Lily. “Watch yourself. He’ll make you forget your purpose if you’re not careful.”

Lily nodded. She still looked a little dazed.

Seeing an elf out of the ghetto was rare. The penalty for any elf found outside the Blue Wall was death, and any human who helped them escape the ghetto would face the same punishment. It’d been that way ever since the war. But the abditus had a strange and complicated relationship with elvish kind. The abditus needed them, of course, but they also resented them. The elf had offered to take Zane to his master. Zane wondered if the abditus here were following the old ways and keeping this elf as a slave. That too was highly illegal. But in a place filled with old abditus, it wasn’t inconceivable. They weren’t the most progressive bunch.

The elf led them to the largest building, the one Zane had assumed contained the living quarters.

“How many abditus live here?” he asked the elf.

“Twenty-three, currently,” the elf said. “Perhaps we should go to my master’s chambers and he can show you the full list of residents.”

Lily opened her mouth, probably to agree, judging by that dreamy look in her eye, but Zane silenced her with a harsh glare.

“You’ve done your master proud,” Zane said. “You tried. But if you attempt to sway us again, I will cut you.”

Lily seemed to wake up a little at that. “So it’s true what the stories say? About how an elf’s voice can sway you?”

“Most of what the stories say about us is false,” the elf said. “But we do hold some minor influence over the mind when we so desire it.” He turned to Zane and said, “I meant no disrespect.”

Zane nodded toward the building. “Understood. Take us in.”

They followed the elf through a series of twisting corridors. The walls were lined with magical objects, but Zane couldn’t tell if they were thorns, tangles, or something else altogether.

After the sixth turn, just when Zane was beginning to suspect the elf was leading them through random hallways until help arrived, the elf stopped in front of a door decorated with an elaborately carved number: 5381. The elf rapped on the door three times.

“It’s open.” The voice was gravelly but pleasant.

The elf opened the door and stepped inside. Zane and Lily followed. The apartment was small but richly appointed. This place smelled of money.

“Ah, Charles!” the gravelly voiced man said. “I’m so pleased to see you. I haven’t had a decent game of rabbles in weeks. Have time for a match?”

“Perhaps in a bit, sir.” The elf stepped aside and gestured gracefully at Zane and Lily. “You have guests.”

Zane had met George Vander once before, years ago in a time that felt like another life. Vander wouldn’t remember; Zane had been just a kid in a crowded classroom. Vander had been speaking about preparing for a life in magic. The man Zane remembered had been tall, almost as tall an elf, and thick with muscle. The man in front of Zane now was stooped and thin. The skin hung loosely from his face and arms. He sat in a chair, his body describing a curve that arched toward the floor. He leaned on the cane in front of him, and the stick appeared to be the only thing keeping him from tumbling forward out of the chair.

The smile melted off Vander’s face at the sight of Zane and Lily.

Before the old man could speak, Zane said, “Mr. Vander, apologies for the unannounced visit. We have a matter to discuss with you that could not wait.”

Vander’s gaze flicked to the elf. “Charles, get Mr. Devlin. Now, please.”

Zane smacked the flat blade of his sword against the elf’s chest. “On second thought, Charles, don’t.”

The elf sighed. “Our guest has already declined to meet our master despite multiple suggestions.”

Vander glared at Zane. “Do you know who I am?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Then you know I’m not defenseless!” the old man barked. He pulled a small round object out of his pocket and held it up. “State your business and be quick about it.”

Zane eyed the object. He wasn’t worried. He’d yet to meet the thorn that was faster than his blade. He’d yet to see any magic that worried him. Before the other night, anyway, the night Beth Farns had somehow made him lose three hours of time.

“Mr. Vander, I have some questions for you about the man you apprenticed with.”

Vander squinted at him. “Irving?”

Zane nodded. He glanced at Lily, nonverbally letting her know this was his show, that she was here only to observe. The last thing he needed was her taking the conversation down the wrong path.

“What do you want to know about Irving?” Vander asked. “He’s gone. Disappeared years ago. And, no, I don’t know where he went, if that’s what you’re going to ask.”

Zane had been hoping to ask that question, but not for a while. He was going to work his way up to it. While he was still thinking about how to adjust his approach, Vander spoke again.

“Is this about the duel?”

Zane nodded gravely.

Vander chuckled. “People are still wondering about that?” His voice sounded weary when he spoke. “You work your whole life, make a name for yourself, make some genuine advancements in your field of study, but do people remember it? No. They focus on the one black spot. Somehow I’ve become a footnote in Irving’s legend instead of the headliner in my own.”

Zane took a small step forward. He kept the elf in his peripheral vision. His kind moved fast, so Zane couldn’t discount the possibility the elf would try to catch him off guard.

“That’s why I’m here,” Zane said. He’d stumbled upon a raw nerve, and he intended to lean on it. “We have reason to believe that the story people have been passing around all these years isn’t completely accurate.”

Vander’s face went pale. “What is it? What’s come out?”

Zane shrugged noncommittally.  “Only rumors. We were hoping to hear your side of the story.”

Vander shook his head. “I don’t have anything to say on that. Not to you. I don’t even know your name.”

Zane bowed his head in a gesture of respect. “My name’s Zane Halloway. This is my apprentice Lily Rhodes.”

“Zane Halloway?” Vander’s face was even paler now. “You’re the ferox. The assassin. The way I heard it, you’re the one who killed the pirate Longstrain.”

Zane let the silence hang in the air, neither confirming nor denying it. How could Vander know about that? Vander had been an important man once, but Zane had never considered that the Ferox Society leaders would compromise his identity. Even to an important abditus.

“Are you here to kill me?” Vander asked. “Is that it? You want to get my story before you end my life?”

“No,” Zane said. “I’m not here to kill you. I’m only here for information.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because that’s not how I operate. If I was here to kill you, you’d be dead. I wouldn’t have any interest in getting your story.” The tip of his sword was resting on the ground now, but it was angled in Vander’s direction, a subtle reminder of his role and reputation.

Vander nodded slowly. “Alright. No harm in telling it, I guess.” He squirmed in his seat, sitting up a bit straighter as he talked. “It was the golden age, and duels were common then. Everyone wanted to prove themselves. It was mostly the young upstarts, but even us more established abditus got sucked into it from time to time. It was all the rage.” His eyes flicked back and forth between Zane and Lily. “Either of you ever see an abditus duel?”

They both shook their heads.

“Ah, well, it’s a thing to behold. Especially in those days. There was so much innovation happening. There was nothing more exciting than competing in a duel. You never knew what your opponent was going to use, so there was an art to selecting your magic. You needed to pick something that would be effective against a wide variety of techniques, but also something that wasn’t too predictable. There was one duel the magical community wanted to see above all others. The top thornsman versus the top tanglesman.”

“You versus Farns,” Zane guessed.

Vander nodded. “We laughed the idea off for a long time. We weren’t friends exactly, but we were close in the way that two people who have been through something intense together often are. At the same time, we were annoyed with each other. People were always comparing our work and arguing over who was the best abditus of our era.”

The old man turned and looked into the darkness outside the window next to him. “Irving came to my door one night. He’d been drinking, which was rare. He suggested we just get it over with. Have a duel, make a spectacle of it. I suspect he thought it might put an end to the constant challenges we were getting from the younger abditus. Or at least help reduce them. I agreed.

“The night before the duel I didn’t get any sleep. I was racked with indecision over which thorn to use. I had an improved version of a Candlewick, a type of thorn I knew had given Irving trouble in the past. And then there was a new thorn, different and more violent than any I’d ever used before. I didn’t even have a name for it. I had no idea how it would perform against Irving’s tangles.” The old man’s voice drifted off and he stared out the window for a long moment.

“Which did you end up using?” Zane asked.

Vander turned and gave the assassin a sad smile. “The Candlewick. I played it safe, and Irving defeated me handily. And that’s when everything changed for me.”

“How so?”

“I knew the duel was meant to be for show, but it bothered me. In the eyes of the public, the matter had been settled. Irving Farns was my better. But I was convinced that if I’d used the other thorn, I would have won the day. I challenged him to a rematch, but he refused. He said I was taking the whole thing too seriously. I guess I lost my love of magic somewhere around that time. And my reputation started to fade.”

Lily said, “Your apprentice Wen told me you used to disappear for days at a time.”

Vander looked at her with a start. He’d clearly forgotten she was present. “That’s right. As the years went on, I started spending more time in my workshop. Not working on anything new, but fussing with the thorn I hadn’t used. I started calling it the Nettle because of the way it pricked and burned in my mind. I never made any real changes to it. I never sold it. I just went to my workshop and considered what might have been had I used it that day.”

Zane set a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “This Nettle. Do you still have it?”

Before the old man could answer, the door to the apartment opened and three large guards walked in, swords drawn. They moved to the side and let the woman behind them pass through. She smiled at Zane.

“Mr. Halloway,” Beth Farns said, “I hear you’re trying to kill my father.”

CHAPTER NINE

Lily stood in the shadows halfway between Zane and Beth Farns. The woman had glanced at Lily when she’d walked in, but only briefly. It seemed she only had eyes for Zane. Which was not unwise considering he was one of the deadliest assassins in the world.

And Zane…Lily saw something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Hesitation. Tentativeness. Everything inside her was pointing toward the impossible conclusion that Zane Halloway was afraid.

Beth Farns was a good three inches taller than Lily. Her hair was a wild mane that seemed both unkempt and impeccably stylish. She wore a loose dress that folded in the front like a robe. A tear-shaped medallion hung around her neck.

Zane hadn’t responded to Beth’s initial accusation, the one suggesting he was out to kill her father, but Beth continued anyway. “Do you remember what happened at Volst Hall the other night? When you attempted to throw the knife at me?”

Volst Hall? What was the woman talking about? Another secret?

Zane said nothing.

Beth’s hand slithered up to the medallion hanging from her neck, and she adjusted it ever so slightly. “The truth is you have no memory of that time. I turned off your brain. In front of the assembled Abditus Society. They had quite the laugh, watching you, nothing more than a capable body awaiting the orders of its master. The tangle was designed to deactivate any weapon used against it. The intent was to protect against thorns, but, in this case, you were the weapon.” She leaned a bit closer to him and smiled. “We could have done anything to you. Anything at all.”

Zane’s jaw tightened so hard Lily could see the muscles standing out on his face.

“I’m surprised you continued with your little job after that,” Beth said. “Surprised and disappointed. Let me ask you this, assassin. If I, a young woman unschooled in the ways of magic, was able to turn off your mind so easily, what do you think a true master tanglesman would do to you? What do you think my father will do if you manage to find him?”

Zane raised his sword, and Lily pulled a knife out of her belt.

Zane said, “How’d you know I was going to be here?”

Beth Farns laughed. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that part out. It was—”

Zane made his move while she was still speaking. He lunged at her with terrifying speed. His blade was arching toward her body when suddenly he fell limp to the ground.

Lily let out a tiny gasp.

The light was gone from Zane’s eyes, but he wasn’t unconscious. He blinked slowly and deliberately as he rose to a sitting position. He moved with an uncharacteristic sluggishness. Zane only ever moved with purpose. Now he was swaying in almost constant unfocused motion.

The woman was right. She could have done anything to Zane. She’d somehow turned off his mind.

But she’d forgotten one thing. A thing most people seemed to forget when they were in Zane’s presence. She’d forgotten Lily.

Lily set her mind. She meant no harm to Beth Farns. None at all. She concentrated on that fact. She only meant harm to the cord around the woman’s neck.

Lily snaked her knife out and sliced through the cord that held the medallion. She grabbed the medallion as it fell and pressed her knife against the other woman’s throat.

“Undo it,” Lily growled in Beth’s ear. “Whatever you did to him, undo it.”

Beth stood completely still. Lily could tell the woman was afraid, and that fact made her very happy.

“Wait a minute,” Beth said. “He’ll come back to himself in a moment now that you’ve removed the tangle.”

Lily waited. She felt every quick breath that entered and left the taller woman’s body, and she counted them as they waited. One. Two. Three. Four.

Zane gasped and tumbled forward, his hand catching him as he fell. He let out a sound that was almost a snarl, and he leapt to his feet. His sword was in his hand and he lunged at Beth, pressing his own blade against her throat where it joined Lily’s.

“I…don’t…like that,” Zane said. There was an ice in his voice Lily had never heard before.

Beth cleared her throat gently before she spoke. Lily could tell the woman was struggling to keep it together. “Might I remind you that you’re still greatly outnumbered?”

“Please,” Zane said. “You think my apprentice and I can’t handle three guards and an elf?”

The guards were huddled against the wall, frozen with indecision. The elf stood calmly with his hands crossed in front of him, watching with detached interest.

“Don’t forget the old man,” Lily said.

As if on cue, Vander spoke. “Wait. Please. Don’t kill her.”

Zane’s eyes didn’t leave Beth’s. “Why not? You saw what she did. She’s planning to sell that thing. You think it’s a good idea for the nobles to have access to something that can steal men’s minds? And women’s? Do you have any idea what they’ll do?”

“It’s a tangle,” Beth said. “It only works on someone who is attacking the wearer.”

Zane scowled. “Yeah? And how long before someone figures out how to modify it? How long before someone develops the thorn version?”

Beth had no answer for that.

“The question Zane asked before,” Lily said. “About how you found us. It was Wen wasn’t it? Vander’s old apprentice?”

Beth nodded almost imperceptibly.

Vander barked out a laugh. “I never trusted that kid. That’s why I didn’t leave him any of the good stuff.”

“He came to me at Volst Hall, offering information. Wen thought I might like to know a strange woman, a woman of apprenticeship age, was intending to interrogate my father’s old friend. I thought about Zane’s sudden appearance at Volst Hall and the way he approached me. The timing made me wonder if Zane was one of the ferox no one talks about, the ones who kill for money. From there, I figured out his real target.”

“How much did Wen charge?” Lily asked. She was genuinely curious how much information about Zane was worth.

“No coin. He wants to sell our new line of tangles when they become available.”

Vander laughed again. “Maybe he’s not so dumb after all.”

“Enough!” Zane shouted. His eyes burned with fury. “I have a policy, Ms. Farns, a very strict policy. I don’t kill for free. But for you, I’m considering an exception.”

“Don’t,” Vander said again. “It’s not her fault she is who she is. She was raised in isolation with that father of hers. She’s had to pay enough for her parentage. She shouldn’t have to pay with her life.”

Zane considered for a moment, then lifted the blade from the woman’s throat. Lily kept hers where it was.

“I’ll let her live if you answer three questions,” Zane said.

“Ask,” Vander immediately responded.

“I want to know where Irving Farns is, I want to know where you keep your thorns, and I want to know if Rebecca Waters is here in the Oasis.”

That last question surprised Lily. Rebecca Waters. Lily knew that name from somewhere. After a moment, it came to her. The abditus apprenticeship book in the public records hall. According to that book, Zane had been her apprentice.

Vander answered all three questions, then added, “Rebecca Waters doesn’t leave her room much. She’s an odd one. What you could possibly want with that witch is beyond me.”

Zane turned to the elf. “Take me to her.”

The elf didn’t respond.

“Look into my eyes and see that I’m not lying,” Zane said. “I mean her no harm. I just need to speak with her.”

The elf looked into the assassin’s eyes for a long moment, then nodded.

Zane looked at the guards. “No one needs to get hurt, but if you try to stop me or my apprentice, I will break your legs.”

The guards looked away, the fear and shame evident on their faces.

“It doesn’t matter, you know,” Beth said.

“What doesn’t?” Zane asked.

“You think you have any chance of killing my father? You’ll die if you go there. You think losing your mind for a few moments is bad? Wait until you step into his darkness. You attack him and he’ll go to work on you in ways you never imagined.”

“Lovely,” Zane said. He turned to Lily. “Meet me outside the wall.”

She took her knife away from Beth’s throat. “Meet you?”

“I have something to take care of.”

She briefly considered arguing but decided it wasn’t worth it. He didn’t like being questioned, and he would like it even less in front of all these people. He clearly had something he wanted to discuss with his old magical mentor, and he didn’t want her there for it.

The guards allowed them to leave without incident. Lily made her way to the wall and climbed, carefully avoiding the thorns and tangles embedded in the wall. She made it to the top and took one last look over the complex before descending. All these people with all their intrigues. Each of them had spent a lifetime learning secrets and keeping them, and now that hard-won knowledge would die with them in this isolated Oasis, a place few even knew existed.

It made Lily angry for reasons she didn’t understand. These sad little lives that were worn with such importance. How many of these people had given up the possibility of families and friendships for their silly magical secrets? And Zane was there among them, having a secret conversation with his secret mentor. She shook her head and descended the wall.

She was sitting on her horse when Zane arrived, quiet as a shadow. Pluck noticed him before Lily did, and the horse gave an impatient snort.

Zane climbed onto the tall horse and nodded to Lily. “Let’s go.”

“Who was that woman? Rebecca Waters?”

Zane didn’t answer.

“Why didn’t you tell me you studied magic?”

He turned his horse down the trail and Pluck started trotting.

Lily moved her own horse next to his. “Why’d you switch from magical studies?”

Again, no answer.

“What did you need to talk to her about?”

Zane pulled on the reins, bringing Pluck to an abrupt stop. Lily did the same with her horse.

He looked her in the eye. “You don’t get to know everything about me.”

Lily shook her head. “You’re just like the rest of them. You hoard secrets. Why don’t you trust me?”

“Because someday you’re going to try to kill me,” Zane said.

The words hit her like a slap to the face. “I won’t. I’d never.”

“You will,” he said. “You’re too smart not to try. Killing me would ensure your future. You’ll take your shot when you’re ready.”

Her face felt hot with anger. “That’s what you think of me?”

Zane didn’t answer.

“Is that what happened to all your other apprentices? The ones you never talk about? They took their shot at you and failed?”

He sighed. “Not all of them.” He sounded weary. “Enough questions. I’m tired and there is still much work to do. I need to get to Irving Farns before his daughter can warn him.”

“You mean we,” Lily said. “We need to get to him.”

“No. Me. You’re not ready for this.”

“Come on!” Lily couldn’t help it. She was yelling now. “You’re kidding, right? Didn’t you notice I saved your ass back there?”

“You did, and I thank you. But Beth Farns wasn’t wrong. It’s highly possible I won’t be able to kill her father. And my odds will be that much worse if I’m worrying about your safety.”

He worried about her? “If that’s true, why try it at all?”

Zane turned, and through the darkness she saw him smile. “Because I’ve finally decided. I’m going to take the job.”

He clucked his tongue and Pluck galloped down the trail.

CHAPTER TEN

Zane crouched in the woods outside the cottage for three hours, watching and waiting. During that time no one arrived and no one left. There was no perceptible movement inside. The grounds were well kept, but there were no walls and no guards. Zane saw no tangles outside the house. It didn’t look like a place where the world’s most sought after tanglesman—a man undoubtably richer than most nobles—would hide himself and his daughter for twenty years.

Perhaps, Zane thought, that was the point.

On the other hand, it was also possible Vander had lied to him about Farns’s location.

He found himself growing impatient as he waited. The visit to Vander’s workshop after the Oasis had cost him valuable time. He hoped it had been worth it.

After another half hour of observation, Zane crept to the darkest side of the cabin and peeked through the window. When he was confident the room was empty, he eased the window open and slipped inside.

He knew immediately something was wrong. The place was clean, perhaps too clean, but it didn’t feel lived in. It reminded Zane of an oversized dollhouse. It felt like it was all for show. There was no dust. The place didn’t even seem stuffy. It’d been aired out recently.

He crept from room to room until he was sure the house was empty, and then he began to investigate further. Plenty of dishes, every one of them clean. The cabinets were perfectly organized. There were men’s clothes in one of the bedrooms and women’s clothes in the other—Irving and Beth’s respective rooms?—all neatly put away.

Zane scratched his head. He’d have to wait. Someone would come here eventually. If not Irving Farns or his daughter, a servant would come to clean. No telling how long the wait would be. It was possible they only came monthly and he’d just happened to arrive a day or two after their most recent cleaning.

And while he was waiting, a messenger might be racing toward Irving Farns’s real location to warn him about Zane. Irving could be making preparations against him. Or maybe the man would use the opportunity to go after Lily, to send a message by taking out Zane’s apprentice.

Zane was about to settle in when he noticed something odd. The floorboards in one area of the kitchen floor were cut ever-so-slightly different than the rest. He squinted at it for a long moment. It was nicely done, expertly done even, but now that he’d seen it, it was obvious. A trap door.

Zane drew his sword. The medallion, the one Lily had cut from Beth Farns’s neck, hung around Zane’s neck now, tucked under his cloak, and he felt the weight of it sway as he moved. From what Zane had seen at Volst Hall and what he’d seen in Vander’s apartment at the Oasis, the medallion seemed to work automatically. If someone attacked you, they lost their mental functions for a period of time. That would fit with what Zane knew of tangles; they generally weren’t made for experts. The more foolproof they were, the better they sold. And by all reports, Farns’s tangles always sold well.

With any luck, Farns would attack Zane and fall into a stupor. Then Zane could finish things with his sword. Somehow, he didn’t think it would be that easy. Farns was too smart to be taken out by the one new tangle the public knew existed.

Zane took a deep breath and opened the trap door.

Below him, he saw nothing but blackness.

Zane grabbed a lamp off the table and lit it. He held it near the door and saw stone steps leading down. He moved the lamp forward, but as soon as it passed the threshold of the trap door, the light went out.

Zane pulled the lamp out of the darkness and lit it again. He tried a second time. Again, as soon as the lamp passed the threshold, the light went out.

Nice trick, Zane thought. But he wasn’t a stranger to working in darkness. He often trained blindfolded. Besides, not having to carry a lamp left his hand free, which could be useful in a fight.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness.

The air felt a few degrees colder as soon as he passed the threshold and began his descent. He moved slowly, feeling his way forward with his feet, carefully inspecting each step before putting his weight on it. For all he knew, this could be a trap. He could take a step and fall into a pit of spikes.

The darkness was complete, darker than anything Zane had ever experienced. He turned around and noticed he could no longer see the light above the trapdoor.

He reached the bottom of the steps and stepped into the unseen room. He brushed his hand across the wall to his right. He would follow the wall and see where it took him.

“You’re here to kill me.”

The voice startled Zane. It was deep and resonant, and it echoed against the stone walls, making it difficult to tell where it was coming from. Difficult, but not impossible. Zane thought he had a good read on the direction, and he started walking toward the voice, softening his footfalls so they were nearly silent.

The voice came again. “You’re not some hapless traveller who wandered in here by accident. Not with that sword. And you’re not an abditus who discovered my location to duel me or you wouldn’t lead with a blade. I’d say you could be a thief, but you carry no bag to haul whatever you plan to steal. So, an assassin then.”

Zane paused. The voice seemed to be coming from a different direction now. He turned and headed toward the voice.

“You probably noticed I’m describing you using visual references,” the voice continued. “I mentioned that you’re holding a sword and that you’re not carrying a bag. I’m able to see this because it’s not actually dark down here. I lit a lamp while you were coming down the stairs. Right after I took away your sight.”

That was meant to shock Zane. To cause him to panic. He fought hard not to let it. He suddenly realized he’d lost track of the wall. The darkness around him was disorienting. He didn’t know if he could find his way back to the stairs if he wanted to. There was no alternative now; killing Farns was his only way out of here.

“I used a tangle to blind you. The tangle wouldn’t have activated unless you meant me harm. More proof you’re here to kill me.”

The voice was coming from another direction now. Zane stopped. He was done chasing this voice around the room while the tanglesman watched in amusement. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He still had the medallion. When Farns made an aggressive move against him, it would activate.

Zane suddenly realized the implication of what Farns had said. The tangle had taken away his vision because he had intentions against Farns. Not because he’d acted in an aggressive manner, but because he’d intended to. A tangle that could do that didn’t exist. Not outside of this cottage, anyway.

Zane opened his mouth, hoping that the words would convey more confidence than he felt. He put all the bravado he could muster into his voice. “Taking away my sight is an interesting approach. It won’t help you, though.”

Irving chuckled. “It’s a bit of a dilemma. I can’t let you wander around my basement until you die of thirst. That’s altogether too inconvenient. But I also can’t attack you. The medallion under your shirt will stop any thorns I might use. And if I attack outright, the medallion will turn off my mind.”

Zane bit his tongue to keep from cursing. Another advantage lost.

“I do have other tangles,” Farns said. “I could keep turning off your senses one by one. I’d rather chat for a moment, though. It has been a long time.”

“Okay,” Zane said. He held his sword at the ready, trying to use his other senses to detect the possibility of movement around him. “Let’s chat.”

“I guess I’ll ask about the elf in the room. Who hired you to kill me?”

“Mr. Farns, if you knew anything about assassins, you’d know that is the one question we’ll never answer. Not unless our client asks us to tell the target.”

“We’ll see,” Farns said. “”Another question, then. Something much more important.” His voice took on a colder tone. “Did you hurt Beth?”

“No. My apprentice got the drop on her while we were paying a visit to an old friend at the Oasis.”

“The Oasis. Vander, then. He hired you?”

Zane tried to concentrate, to feel out his opponent, but it was difficult. His sight was gone—a fact he was trying very hard not to panic about—and Farns’s voice seemed to be coming from a number of directions at once.

“This isn’t a guessing game,” Zane said. He held the thorn he’d taken from Vander’s workshop close to his side, tucked away in his hand. “Answer me this. Why are you doing it? Why sell the tangles after all these years?”

Farns waited a moment before speaking. “My occupation, my success, had a high price. You showing up here is evidence of that. And the one who’s paid that price the most is my daughter. She spent nearly twenty years locked away in this cottage. I thought maybe I could give her a good start in the world if I let her sell some of my creations. She has a better head for economics than I ever did. I just turned on another tangle, by the way. If you still harbor intentions of attacking me, you just lost your sense of smell. Did you notice?”

Zane had noticed, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Farns asked. “Someone doesn’t want my tangles to hit the market.”

“Can you blame them?” Zane asked. The words felt strange in his mouth. He was pretty sure his sense of taste was gone now. “No one should have these weapons. And certainly not the nobles who can afford them.”

“Does it matter? It’s not like the poor have a chance against the nobles as it is. My tangles are powerful, yes, but they’ll just end up as decorations on a shelf. That’s why I quit in the first place. It wasn’t the duels, although that was plenty annoying. It wasn’t my wife’s death, although that certainly changed the way I looked at the world. I just couldn’t stand seeing my creations gathering dust on the mantlepieces of the rich.”

“You think that’s all that happens? You underestimate the sadism of some of your clients.”

Farns sighed. “This is it, assassin. Make a decision before I turn on this last tangle. As long as you mean me no harm, it won’t affect you. But if you still intend to kill me, it will take your hearing. And then I will kill you. Ready?”

Zane made no reply.

Suddenly the world was silent. He thought he’d experienced silence before, but this was something else, a whole different level of quiet. All the little sounds he hadn’t even noticed were gone in an instant.

Darkness and silence enveloped him.

He concentrated on his breathing. And on the one sense he had left.

He felt the weight of the sword in his hand and the pressure of the medallion on his chest.

The medallion. It wouldn’t work unless Farns actually tried to hurt him. Which meant Farns would have to remove it before he attacked.

Zane kept perfectly still and waited. It might have been only minutes, but it felt like hours. He put all his energy into his remaining sense, struggling to keep his alertness on the razor’s edge while he waited for oh so long.

Then, he felt it. The medallion sliding down his chest. The cord holding it had been cut. Zane spun. He let the sword fall to the ground and snaked his now empty hand out in a desperate grab. For a terrible moment, there was nothing. Then, he felt cloth against his knuckles. Farns was a bit farther away than he’d anticipated, but he was there.

Zane brought up his other hand, the one with the thorn in it, and activated the weapon.

The light and the sound both hit him at once. The harsh glow of a lamp and the piercing scream of the old man. It was like a blow to the head. Zane gritted his teeth and shook it off, scooping the sword off the floor.

Irving Farns lay on the ground, clutching his chest. His short white hair stood in disheveled spikes on his head. Blood seeped between his fingers.

“I always liked that one,” Farns said.  His voice had a calm but distant quality. One Zane had seen in many dying men. “The Nettle. Vander should have used it in that silly duel. I didn’t have a way to stop it.” He glanced down at the wound on his chest. “Guess I still don’t. Nasty bit of work. It materializes tiny bits of iron under your opponent’s skin and then pulls them out.” Farns coughed weakly. “You must have gotten it from Vander’s workshop. There were two versions, the de-powered dueling version and this one. How’d you know which one to grab?”

“I know a little about thorns,” Zane said. “Enough to identify a de-powered thorn, anyway.”

Farns stared at the thorn for a long moment. “I’m glad it never went up for sale.”

Zane crouched down next to him. “Then why’d you create it?”

Farns looked up and gave him a weak smile. “Figured it out, did you?”

Zane shrugged. “Vander never said he invented them. He talked around the issue. Couple that with what his apprentice said and the fact that you apprenticed under a man who made both tangles and thorns…”

Farns said, “I saw what making both did to my mentor. He was never taken seriously. The Society demands specialization. And Vander knew he wasn’t smart enough to make a name for himself based on his own work. So we came to an arrangement.”

“Good deal for him. You did the work and he became the world’s most respected thornsman.”

Farns gave a weak shrug. “For a time. But he’s lived in fear of his secret coming out ever since.” He looked at Zane, and the assassin saw there were tears standing in the old man’s eyes. “Will you tell my daughter I love her? That I’m proud of her?”

“No,” Zane said. “I’m not a messenger. But you don’t need to fear for her safety. I won’t go after her.” He thought for a moment, then said, “I’m sure she already knows you love her.”

“Yes,” the old abditus said. “That’s the one thing I’m sure of.”

Before the man could speak again, Zane flicked his wrist and sent the tip of his sword through the man’s throat. In a moment, it was over.

The job was done.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lily looked at the man in the chair. “I’ll ask again. Are you sure you don’t want to come back tomorrow?”

The man gave his head a brisk shake.

Lily sighed. She’d tried everything. She’d told the man she had no idea when Zane would be returning, which was true. She’d offered to personally come to his house to let him know when Zane arrived, which she was happy to do. But the man was stubborn. He hadn’t even given his name.

All he’d said was, “I’m here to discuss life and death. I don’t mind waiting.”

He’d been waiting seven hours. No telling how much longer it would be before Zane returned.

The door burst open and Zane marched into the room, his shirt speckled with blood and his eyes cold. He looked tired.

“Lily!” he said. “It’s done.”

Lily cleared her throat and nodded toward the man in the chair. “I’m glad to hear that. We have a client.”

“What?” Zane looked at the visitor with a combination of surprise and disgust.

The man rose and held out his hand to Zane. “Mr. Halloway. I’m honored. I would like to acquire your services. It involves a matter of the utmost—”

“No,” Zane said.

The man tilted his head, surprised at the interruption. “I’m sorry?”

Zane leaned in close to the man and spoke very deliberately. “The answer is no.”

“But, Mr. Halloway, you don’t understand. This matter is not only important to the crown—”

“It’s really very simple, sir. You can leave now or you can pay me twenty-five thrones for the privilege of explaining your offer for thirty seconds before I dismiss it again. I’m very tired. Please leave.”

The man stared at Zane for a long moment. He gave a curt nod, turned, and walked out. Lily followed him and tried to smooth things over.

When she returned, she found Zane sitting in the chair the man had occupied for the last seven hours. His head was resting in his hands.

“He wasn’t pleased,” she said. “Best case scenario, I imagine he’ll be contacting the Ferox Society.”

Zane said nothing. He looked distant. He was always melancholy after a job, but this seemed different somehow.

Lily sank into the chair across from him. “You want to talk about it?”

“I really don’t.”

She considered leaving, giving him his privacy. Then he surprised her and spoke again.

“He was just an old man living in this sad little cottage. He wanted to give his daughter a nice life.”

Lily thought for a moment before answering. “Intentions don’t matter, though. He created instruments of death. Who knows what else he might have created if he’d lived longer?”

“Instruments of death?” Zane chuckled. “The other way to look at it is he created instruments of life. Things to protect the innocent.”

Lily knew she wouldn’t win any argument about the morality of their dark profession. Whichever position she took, he would take the opposite. He just liked to argue.

“We didn’t choose this life,” Zane said. “Neither of us. We just scored a certain way on a certain test and now we have to do these terrible things. Make these terrible choices.”

“Even you?” Lily asked in a gentle voice. “You started down the abditus path. Seems like you had a choice.”

“We all have a choice. It’s just a question of how much we’re willing to pay for each option.”

“You’ll tell me that story someday.” It wasn’t a question.

“Perhaps.” Zane reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round object. “I destroyed the tangles and thorns in Farns’s cottage. I expect his daughter still has some socked away. Nothing we can do about her selling those. Others will study them and eventually duplicate them. But I did what I could. Here.” He tossed the round object to Lily.

She snatched it out of the air and examined it.

“Careful,” Zane said. “It’s a thorn. It makes shards of iron appear inside your enemy’s body and then rips them out. Or some such nonsense. I used it to kill Farns.”

She looked it over closely. “Why didn’t you destroy it?”

“I wanted to give it to you.”

She paused. “Why?”

Zane leaned forward and looked her in the eye. “Outside the Oasis, I think I might have implied I don’t trust you.”

“You did more than imply it.”

Zane nodded. “That was wrong of me. And untrue. I trust you, and I’m giving you the most deadly thorn I’ve ever seen to prove it.”

“Huh,” she said. The object seemed heavier in her hand all of the sudden. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll use it on you? That I’ll try to kill you at some point?”

“Maybe everything doesn’t have to end in death,” he said.

Lily couldn’t help but smile. “Not even you can stop that. Everything always ends in death. That’s life.”

“Perhaps. But maybe someday we’ll be fighting against death instead of bringing it.”

“That…that would be nice.”

“Indeed.” He got to his feet. “I’ve just finished defeating the greatest abditus of our time, and I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Good night, Zane.”

“Good night, Lily.” He started toward the door. “One more thing. No more jobs for a couple weeks. I need a break.”

“Of course,” she said, even though she knew better.

The next morning a woman came asking for an audience with the great ferox Zane Halloway. He took her money and heard her case. After she was gone, Lily asked if he was going to take the job.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he said. “But let’s investigate, just in case.”

BOOK TWO: SWORDS AND SHADOWS

CHAPTER ONE

Zane Halloway tipped back his mug and drained it. He rarely drank alcohol, especially outside his own home, but this was a special occasion.

This was the anniversary of the day he’d ended his abditus apprenticeship and started down the road toward becoming a ferox.

He was careful, though. Patterns could be used against him. And he couldn’t afford to give his many enemies even the slightest edge.

Yes, he went out for a drink on this day every year. And, yes, he always raised a toast to the embers burning in the hearth before draining his mug in a single long pull.

But it was only ever one mug. And it was always in a different tavern.

He was as careful as could be, but tonight it was not enough.

Tonight, his enemies had found him.

He set down the mug and felt himself tense even before he knew why. There was something in the air. A smell he knew all too well. The tang of salty sea mixed with a hint of lavender.

He turned slowly and saw her standing there, her rapier raised, a casual smile on her face.

“Hello, Zane.”

“Hello, Amber.”

Amber Longstrain looked every bit the pirate. She wore drab layers of clothing tied at strategic locations to keep them from falling off. Though she was currently one of the most successful pirates working the Gamlond Sea, Zane knew Amber had grown up alone and destitute, orphaned by the very sea she now called home. She’d learned the valuable lessons of frugality early and well, and she wasn’t one to let a single scrap of cloth go to waste.

She wore a long knife in her belt. Her ears sparkled with a dozen studs. A sly grin curved across her face and there was a gleam in her eye that spoke of violence. Yes, she was a pirate through and through.

And if there was anything Zane knew about pirates, it was that they didn’t travel without their crews.

He let his eyes move over the other patrons in the tavern. There were eleven customers besides Amber and himself. Maybe two of them were civilians. Maybe. The rest had a hard look to them. They wrapped their paws around their mugs and held them close to their bodies as if someone might try to snatch them away at any moment. Or as if they didn’t want them spilled by the lurching of the sea.

Pirates all. Their captain wanted Zane dead, so they were obliged to help make it happen.

He’d been careless. Now that he saw them, he couldn’t understand how he’d missed the salty funk in the air. He’d been too preoccupied when he entered. And now he was going to pay the price.

Zane eyed the tip of the rapier six inches from his face. He knew from painful experience Amber was quick, and deadly accurate, with the weapon.

“Mind if I ask how you found me?” he asked.

Amber grinned. “I didn’t. Not exactly. You found us.”

It took Zane a moment before he got it. There were only fifteen taverns in this part of Barnes. How many wives had Henry Longstrain had? At least that many. And he’d gifted each of them a ship and a crew. The Longstrain widows were the terror of the Gamlond Sea. They all wanted Zane dead for what he’d done to their husband ten years earlier.

Zane would bet one of the pirate crews was waiting in each tavern.

“I didn’t know you lot worked together,” Zane said. “I thought it was every woman for herself.”

Amber let out a hearty, full-bodied laugh. “We’ve known for a while that you go out on this night every year, but we’ve never been able to catch you. I personally watched your house last year, but somehow you slipped past me. So we decided on a new approach.”

Zane’s mind was racing, tallying odds and the distances between him and the three exits. But he didn’t see a way out of this without getting at least a bit bloodied.

“I thought this was some sort of contest for you,” Zane said. “Like whoever killed me would prove they loved Henry the most.”

Amber’s grin widened. “And Lord Luck’s given me my shot. So I guess he’s made his thoughts on that matter clear, savvy?”

Zane eased his hand toward his belt where he kept one of his throwing daggers.

Without unlocking her gaze from his, Amber answered his movement with her rapier. He felt it sting his wrist like a wasp. He looked down at the wound. It wasn’t deep. She was trying to warn him, not injure him. But the blood was already running down his hand. He’d need every advantage he could get in this fight. A slick hand wouldn’t help.

“We were all wondering about the significance of this day,” Amber said. “Some of the others thought it was your birthday. But you’re not the type who’d get melancholy about growing older. You seem too somber for that.  So I’m thinking it is something else. The death of someone close, perhaps?”

Zane made no reaction. He was supremely skilled at not revealing his emotions. But no response was response enough for Amber.

“Ah,” she said. “So then you know a little of the pain we feel. You understand. If you could hurt the one who’d taken away the person you love, you’d do it. Don’t say that you wouldn’t.”

In truth, Zane did still intend to get his revenge on that front. Eventually. But he wasn’t like the Longstrains. He played an even longer game. He was patient.

There was a time for patience and a time for action. This, Zane knew, was his time for action.

Amber was watching for him to either attack or go for a weapon. He did neither. Instead, he took his beer mug and shoved it forward, capturing the tip of her rapier inside the mug. He kept pushing, driving with his legs and moving forward. She staggered backwards, all her effort on keeping her feet. Most people would have fallen on their asses, but Amber Longstrain’s superior sea legs kept her upright.

He pushed harder and moved faster, not giving her a moment to regain her balance. She stopped with an oof as her back hit the wall behind her, but still Zane pushed with the mug. The blade made a terrible grinding sound against the inside of the pewter mug, but it also began to bend.

Zane had to act fast. Amber wasn’t falling backwards now. She would quickly regain her head.

Zane kicked, driving his foot into the blade at just the right angle. He heard a satisfying snap and the top half of the blade hit the floor with a surprisingly soft ting.

Amber was already in motion, thrusting at him with her newly shortened blade. But Zane was in motion, too. He spun forward and caught her blade arm with his free hand. He twisted it violently, ignoring the crack of the bone and continuing to twist until she dropped the sword. He brought the beer mug down hard on her head, and the pirate crumpled to the floor.

Zane allowed himself a deep breath as he turned.

Amber’s nine crew members stood in a semi-circle around him. The rest of the patrons—and the barkeep—had already made for the exits.

Every one of the nine crew members was armed, and they all looked like they had ample experience using their weapons. None of them seemed too pleased to see their captain unconscious on the ground.

Zane didn’t like the odds, but they were about to improve.

He didn’t travel without his crew, either.

Zane saw Lily out of his periphery. She crouched on the second floor railing above the bar, hidden in shadow and ready to leap down onto Zane’s attackers.

He held up a finger, indicating he wanted her to wait a moment before attacking.

She made no reply. She didn’t have to.

“I have no quarrel with any of you,” Zane said to the crew.

The biggest guy, a bald man with a short dagger that looked tiny in his meaty hand, opened his mouth and bellowed, “The hell you don’t.”

Zane saw Lily’s head swiveled toward him. The bald man had unwittingly identified himself as the leader of the remaining pirates, and thus he’d be her target.

She leapt from the railing, throwing herself into the air and forcing her body ramrod straight.

While she was still in the air, Zane went after the tall, lanky man next to the big, bald guy. He did it a bit more slowly than he needed to in order to make sure every eye was on him.

Lily slammed into the big guy feet first, driving him into the ground. And, judging by the way his body contorted when he hit, he wouldn’t be getting back up for several months.

Zane lunged toward the lanky man and threw a hard jab. He connected at just the right angle, breaking the man’s nose in a way that would be extremely painful and make it impossible for him to see more than vague shapes for the next ten minutes or so.

The two Zane judged to be the fiercest brawlers were out of the fight. That brought the odds down to seven on two. Better. Not great—Amber Longstrain wouldn’t allow any slouches on her crew, so Zane was certain each of the remaining seven could fight—but better.

Lily rolled to her feet and raised her sword. She met Zane’s eyes and gave a slight nod toward the north side of the room. She wanted the four on the right. Of course she did. Those looked like the toughest customers.

Zane gave her a brief nod, but squinted, telling her with his eyes to be careful.

He drew his own sword, gripping the strange hilt. It looked uncomfortable, but it fit his hand perfectly.

He paused before he struck. He had a rule, a very important rule: Never kill for free. But would this be killing for free? His life was worth more than the pile of thrones he usually charged. For this killing, he and Lily would be paid not in gold, but in days, months, and years of life that would otherwise be stolen from them.

Zane spun into motion, driving his sword into the man closest to him. The guy was short but broad. He was built like a brick wall, but Zane’s sword sliced through muscle as easily as fat. The man crumpled to the ground.

The other two, a man and a woman, were clearly used to working together. They spread out and came at him from two angles at once, positioning themselves on his two o’clock and his ten o’clock. They both held rapiers, and they both knew their business.

Zane was no amateur with his sword either, but there were two of them, and their blades moved in twin blurs Zane recognized as well practiced patterns. He’d known the names of those patterns once. He silently cursed himself for not keeping up with the more formal aspects of fencing. He could have worked with Lily and learned some of those two-sword attacks. They could be working together as a team now, same as this man and woman. Zane knew in his heart that if they had trained that way, they would be absolutely tearing through these pirates. Instead, they were working as two powerful but separate forces.

But, Zane reminded himself, that was the way it had to be. Lily was his apprentice, not his partner. Assassins worked alone. He was training her to work alone, too. He’d be doing her no favors by giving her practice working with a partner. If he did his job as her mentor, she wouldn’t have a partner, and she wouldn’t need one.

Zane decided he’d had enough of this fencing demonstration. Holding off two trained swords was a fool’s game. He had to be more efficient.

He rolled to the side, working his way to the left so that, for a moment, the man was between Zane and the woman. He couldn’t waste this momentary advantage, so he thrust recklessly with no thought for defense. His blade sank into the man’s chest.

Zane pulled it out and slid around the falling man.

The female pirate was quicker. Zane had to give her credit. Her eyes flickered with emotion as she saw her partner fall dead to the ground, but only for a moment. He hadn’t expected that. He’d hoped her adrenaline would force her to be sloppy. No such luck. She raised her sword again and attacked with even more precision than before.

One-on-one Zane allowed himself the luxury of engaging her in some swordplay. He deflected her thrusts, admiring the clean lines of her movements. Fencing was a dance, and she danced it well.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily. She was taking on two men, both a foot taller than her, and she was being pushed back.

Zane dropped to the ground, thrust his sword into the woman’s stomach, and she fell. She’d probably live. He hoped so. But Lily needed him, so this was no time to get squeamish.

He dashed to the left and caught the bigger of the two men with a sword to the back. Not exactly sporting, but he’d take alive over sporting any day.

Lily flashed a glare at Zane. “I had him. If you would have given me a moment.”

Lily’s opponent thrust, and she deflected the blow, but barely.

“Focus,” Zane said. Now it was one-on-one, Lily versus the tall swordsman. Zane would let her finish it.

She deflected his next thrust with a flourish. “I can fight and talk at the same time.”

The tall man risked a quick look around, and his eyes widened as he saw he was the last pirate standing. He resumed his attack with even more vigor.

“Are you going to finish up?” Zane asked.

“In a minute,” Lily said. “It’s not every day I get to spar against someone who isn’t holding anything back.”

Zane grunted. She’d been on edge lately. Ever since he hadn’t allowed her to come along on the Irving Farns job. She thought he wasn’t pushing her hard enough.

“This isn’t sparring,” Zane said. “Never underestimate your opponent. That’s when you get hurt. Finish it.”

The swordsman had a worried crease in his brow now, as if he was realizing he was being used as an object lesson.

“Fine,” Lily said. She spun, dodging the man’s wildly thrusting sword and moving in close. She caught his arm in the crook of hers and twisted hard. The man’s arm broke with an audible snap. She thumped him on the head with the hilt of her sword and he crumpled to the ground.

Zane frowned. That was the same move he’d used to take down Amber Longstrain. She was making a point. Anything he could do, she could do.

“Are we done here?” she asked.

Zane opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, something bit into his leg.

He looked down and saw Amber Longstrain, a crazy smile on her face, with her hand on the handle of a knife buried in his calf.

“Now you’ll know my pain,” she said.

Before Zane could answer, Lily was in motion. She swung her heavy boot hard and connected with Amber’s head. Amber fell back to the floor. She was out cold.

Lily put her sword to Amber’s throat. “Want me to kill her?”

Zane grimaced. The pain in his calf was a dull throb, but he knew it would soon hurt much worse. “No. Never kill for free. Besides, it will just get the rest of the widows riled up.” It was sort of a game to the Longstrain widows, Zane knew. If they really wanted him dead, they could have stormed his home. They knew where he lived, after all. But they preferred to attack one crew at a time and only when they were able to catch him off guard. That didn’t happen often. Today, Zane had been sloppy and paid the price.

“I’ll find something to bandage your leg,” Lily said.

After they’d removed the knife and tied off the wound, they made their way the six painful blocks home. He had to lean on Lily for support a few times. The pain was worse now, just as he’d suspected, but it was also spreading in ways a stab wound shouldn’t. He felt the beginnings of a fever coming on.

“Lily,” Zane said, his voice a bit hoarse, “I’m fairly certain that knife was poisoned.”

Her eyes went wide, but she wasn’t looking at him. He followed her gaze.

There was a tall, white stallion tied outside their home. And a man in a crisp, blue uniform stood next to it.

As Zane and Lily approached, the man stood ramrod straight.

“Zane Halloway of the Ferox Society,” the man said. He had a way of talking that was as precise as his movements. Each syllable had a sharp cadence. He held out an envelope.

Zane took it with a shaky hand and worked the flap open. He had to move under the nearest streetlamp to read it. When he did, his eyes went wide.

“What is it?” Lily asked.

“It’s a summons. From the king.”

CHAPTER TWO

Lily urged Moon forward, futilely trying to close the gap between her and the two men.

It wasn’t the horse’s fault. He was a humble animal bred for farm work and maybe the occasional ride to town. He wasn’t meant to keep up with warhorses like the ones Zane and their royal escort, Faraday, rode.

But he had to. There was no choice. Lily wasn’t going to get left behind. Not when this was her chance to meet the king.

Maybe Moon felt his rider’s tiredness and was slowing the pace because of that. Lily was tired. It had been a long night. After receiving the royal summons and Faraday suggesting they leave immediately, it had taken some doing to convince him to wait until morning. Lily and Zane had spent the night awake in Zane’s study, inspecting the wound, cross-referencing his symptoms, trying to determine what poison Amber Longstrain had used and how to counteract it.

It had taken all night, but they’d finally gotten it. Gurry root.

Amber’s words made more sense now. You will know my pain.

Gurry root killed slowly and painfully. The victim often suffered incapacitating pain for a week or more before death came. There was an antidote, and Zane had the ingredients on hand.

The antidote stopped the progress of the poison, but it didn’t counteract all the effects. Zane wouldn’t die, but the pain in his leg would grow worse for the next week or so. He’d probably always have the occasional ache in that leg.

“Still glad you didn’t kill her?” Lily had asked after they’d identified the poison.

Zane hadn’t answered.

In ideal circumstances, Zane would have taken some savven herb and simply slept until the worst of the pain was behind him. But there was Faraday to consider. Somehow Lily didn’t think a cut on the leg would be an acceptable excuse for turning down a royal summons.

They’d been on the road three days now and their journey was nearing completion. Langton, the capital city and home of the king, was generally a four-day ride from Barnes, but Faraday was wasting no more time than was absolutely necessary outside the saddle. The breaks were few and far between. Lily had never been much of a rider, and she didn’t know how much longer she could handle this. She could barely imagine how Moon felt.

Zane rode just ahead of her. Keeping an eye on him was one of the few things keeping her going despite the hunger and saddle sores. Her mentor kept a calm demeanor and she probably wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss if she hadn’t known him so well. He sat up a little too straight in the saddle, and the muscles in his jaw stood out a bit too far. He was in pain, and a lot of it.

Each night, she insisted he show her the wound on his leg. He cleaned it himself, but she wanted to be sure it wasn’t infected. She didn’t trust he would say anything if it were.

Faraday remained polite but stoic. Lily was pretty sure he didn’t know anything about Zane’s injury, but there was no way to tell with him. The man spoke only when necessary. He made Zane seem positively chatty.

In the afternoon of the third day, the city came into sight. It was deceiving to approach a city so large. Many times during the afternoon Lily was certain it had to be less than an hour’s ride away. But by the time they reached it, the sun was setting.

Faraday led them off the road shortly before reaching the main gate to the castle in the center of the city. He followed a thin path that curved around the outlying buildings at strange angles that seemed designed to be difficult to follow. The path led to a small door in the castle wall. Faraday dismounted and nodded for them to do the same.

He rapped on the door, and a moment later it swung open. A man with a massive beard and a crimson uniform stepped out. He saluted Faraday and stepped to the side.

Faraday waved them toward the door.

“What about our horses?” Lily asked.

The bearded man said, “Not to worry, Miss Rhodes. The horses will be taken to our stables.”

Lily ignored the fact that the bearded man knew her name and followed Faraday and Zane into the torch-lit corridor. She watched Zane’s right leg as he walked. There was a slight limp, but it wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t looking for it. Probably.

They walked through the twisting hallway for at least five minutes. Soon Lily had lost all sense of direction. Finally, when she was sure Faraday was just trying to get them lost, they came to a door. Another guard in a crimson uniform saluted and swung the door open as Faraday approached.

They followed Faraday into a windowless room with stone walls. It was dominated by a long oak table. The chairs around the table were identical, simply designed pieces of furniture, crafted for function over style. The only exception was the chair at the head of the table. It was ever-so-slightly bigger, as if the designer had been reluctant to ruin the symmetry.  There was another door at the far end of the room, behind the tallest chair.

Faraday pointed to the two chairs on either side of the head of the table. “Have a seat. I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and marched through the door on the far side of the room from where they’d entered.

When the door was closed, Zane turned to Lily and spoke softly. “Lily, there’s a chance this could go very badly for us.”

Lily asked, “Care to elaborate?”

Zane glanced at the closed door, then back at her. “No. The less you know the better.”

Lily started to speak, but Zane held up a hand to stop her.

“Please,” he said. “Let me finish. We may not have much time. If they separate us, cooperate fully, whatever they ask. If they want information on me, give it to them. Don’t lie. Don’t leave anything out. Whatever they want to know. But get guarantees, understand? If they ask you to testify against me, make sure they agree to let you continue your studies with another mentor.”

Lily’s head was spinning. What was he talking about? If this was so dangerous, why hadn’t he said anything sooner? Sure, Faraday had been watching them most of the time, but he could have brought it up when they slipped away to clean Zane’s wound each night. Or, hell, they could have talked when they were trying to find the antidote that first night back at home.

Another thought struck Lily. Maybe there was no danger. Maybe his wound was infected after all, and this was the fever talking. Maybe Zane was in worse shape than she’d thought.

“The king’s an honorable man,” Zane continued. “Most of them here are. Most. They’ll keep any agreement you make with them. But they aren’t stupid. You have to ask for a deal. They won’t offer it. Understand?”

Lily wasn’t sure she did, but she nodded anyway.

“Say it back to me,” Zane said.

“Cooperate. Make a deal. Get guarantees.”

“Good.”

She bit her lip, suddenly angry. After all they’d been through, he wouldn’t give her any more details than that? And he expected her to roll over when they asked for information on him? The hell with that. There’d be no deal. Regardless of what Zane said, she wouldn’t tell them anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this on the way here?” she asked. “We could have taken Faraday. Or at least slipped away.”

“I didn’t know,” he said. “I didn’t realize who Faraday was until we got here.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Those men we saw, the ones in the crimson uniforms, those are the king’s personal guard. They saluted Faraday.”

“So?”

“The King’s Guard only salute one man. The King’s Sword.”

Lily drew in a quick breath. “No way. Why would the King’s Sword personally escort a ferox all the way from Barnes?”

“Now you understand why I’m worried.”

“Zane, is there something I don’t know?”

“There are many things you don’t know.”

At that moment the door opened and three men marched into the small room. There was Faraday and a heavy-set man Lily had never before seen. The other man, the one who walked into the room first, was unmistakable. Though she’d never seen him in person, she’d seen his image drawn on handbills and painted in portraits. If anything, he was even more handsome in real life. Though he couldn’t be more than ten years older than Lily, he was the most powerful man in the nation. King Edward.

Zane quickly rose from his seat and dropped to one knee as the king entered. Lily hesitated. Was she supposed to kneel like Zane, or was there another expectation for women? Was she supposed to curtsy or something? Damn Zane for not preparing her better for this.

She fell to one knee, mimicking Zane. She thought of all the times she’d felt awkward and out of place in the homes of local nobles in Barnes. They’d seemed so important. Now, in the presence of real power for the first time, she realized that all her other experiences with the rich were nothing. This was royalty.

Edward waved toward them. “Yes, yes, please take your seats.”

Lily waited for Zane to rise and then followed his lead. Faraday took the seat next to Zane, and the heavy-set man took the seat next to her. Zane’s eyes followed the heavy-set man with a gaze that was intense, even for him.

“Thanks for coming,” the king said, as if they’d had a choice. “You know Faraday and Von Ridden?”

Zane nodded curtly, his eyes still glued to the heavy-set man.

Von Ridden. Where had Lily heard that name before?

“It’s been a while, Zane,” Von Ridden said.

“Hello, Jacob.”

Jacob Von Ridden. Of course. It came back to Lily then. She’d seen the name on a ledger in the hall of public records. It was a list of abditus apprentices. Von Ridden’s name was just next to Zane’s on the list. That was where she’d learned Zane had studied to be an abditus before becoming a ferox.

The king leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. It was strange, seeing the man who was the very embodiment of the state, a man who always looked so formal and regal in his portraits, relaxing.

“I’m bringing you two into my confidence,” the king said. “I hope you understand the gravity of that situation.”

“We do, Your Majesty,” Zane said.

The king went on as if he hadn’t heard. “When most people think of state business, they think of the throne room upstairs. But that’s not where the real work gets done. It happens down here. Very few even know this room exists, but make no mistake: every important decision of my reign has been made in this room. And what we’re going to discuss today is even more important than most. The only people who know will ever know what we’re doing today are me, you two, my Sword—” He waved toward Faraday. “—and my Shadow.” He motioned toward Von Ridden.

Zane looked as if he’d been slapped. Lily realized he didn’t know his old colleague was the King’s Shadow. Whatever had happened between Zane and Jacob Von Ridden, Lily had the feeling it wasn’t pleasant.

The Sword and the Shadow. There were so many stories, so many legends. It was difficult to separate fact from fiction. The Sword was the king’s greatest warrior, the person assigned with protecting the king’s honor, and his representative in combat. The Shadow was the king’s personal abditus, the only person with access to the royal treasury of magical devices, said to be the greatest and most dangerous collection of its kind in the world.

Together the Sword and the Shadow were the king’s two closest and most important advisors.

“I’ve called you here to offer you a job,” the king said to Zane. “And like all jobs, you have the option of turning it down. I won’t force you. And you’ll be paid twice your normal fee.”

Zane paused for a moment before answering. “What’s the job, Your Majesty?”

The king smiled. “That’s where this differs from most assignments. You don’t get to know. Not until you accept.” He let that hang in the air for a moment. “I can tell you it’s dangerous. And it’s a challenge like you’ve never faced before. And—” his smile widened, “—that you won’t like it. Not initially, anyway. The question is do you trust your king enough to accept the job without knowing what it is?”

Zane’s eyes flickered to Lily and his gaze touched hers. She saw the truth in those eyes. Zane treasured two things above all others: his anonymity and his independence. This job put both of those at risk. But the king wasn’t being one-hundred-percent genuine. There was no turning down this job.

“I accept,” Zane said. “But I have a condition.”

The king tilted his head at Zane, clearly surprised. And perhaps a little impressed. “Go on.”

“Ms. Rhodes isn’t part of the job. She goes home and waits for me. She’s an apprentice. You don’t need her for this.”

Lily wanted to protest, but she couldn’t find her voice.

The king rubbed his chin for a moment before answering. “No, I don’t think so. She’s seen too much already. Faraday had the option of leaving her out of it if he didn’t think she was ready. He told me he likes the way you work together. He watched from a balcony when you were fighting those pirates at the tavern.  So it’s a package deal. You both accept or you both decline.”

Zane met Lily’s eyes one more time, and she saw his sadness. She gave him a little nod.

“Then we accept, Your Majesty,” he said.

King Edward banged a hand on the table. “Wonderful. Von Ridden said I could count on you. He said if I was looking for a top-level ferox who could be trusted, you were my man.”

Zane’s eyes fired to life at that, but he said nothing.

“Give them the basics, Faraday?” the King asked.

Faraday nodded. “A little over a year ago, we caught a woman leaving across the border into Tavel. She was carrying an unusual number of weapons on her person, so the border patrol checked her out. Turns out she was a ferox. We questioned her, of course, but she said she wasn’t on the job. We took her at her word, and let her go.

“A few months later, we discovered another ferox crossing into Tavel, again heavily armed. So we started paying closer attention. It turns out an unexplainable number of ferox have been visiting Tavel on a regular basis.”

“That’s not exactly true,” Von Ridden said. His voice was deep, and the furniture in the room seemed to rattle with each word. “There is an explanation. Only one.”

The king said, “The Ferox Society is taking jobs in Tavel.”

Silence hung in the room. Lily found it difficult to get her breath. The Ferox Society, like all the royally sanctioned societies, was required to operate only in the kingdom of Opel. It was a rule that had been drilled into her head from her first day of ferox studies. She also knew it was a rule that was occasionally ignored by the more enterprising and less scrupulous ferox in the society. But it was never spoken of. And it sounded like this was more than the usual skirting of the law.

“Our relationship with Tavel is tenuous at best,” the king continued. “Diplomatic relations have been less than diplomatic of late. Things are perched on the razor’s edge. Last week we received word that one of our ferox was captured in Tavel.”

Zane frowned. “Your Majesty, are you asking us to go to Tavel to rescue the ferox?”

The king waved the idea away. “Of course not. He broke the law, and he’ll pay the price under the laws of Tavel. Nothing we can do about that. But a response is required, and quickly. King Richard is furious, and I don’t blame him. We have ferox operating in his country. We have to do everything possible to convince him the Opel crown had nothing to do with this.”

Lily felt her skin grow cold. Suddenly she suspected she knew what the king was going to ask of them.

“Your Majesty,” Zane said, “what’s the job?”

The king looked Zane in the eye. “Charles Danum has to die.” He watched Zane for a moment, then said, “See? I said you wouldn’t like it.”

Zane took a deep breath. “You’re asking Lily and I to kill the head of our own society?”

“Not alone. You’ll have Faraday and Von Ridden with you. It seems like a four person job to us.”

Zane licked his lips before answering. “Your Majesty, why bring us in at all? Surely your Sword and Shadow could handle this.”

“Perhaps,” the king said. “But the Ferox Society headquarters is known for its…difficult access. It would be nice to have someone along who’d actually been inside it.”

Zane nodded. “It’ll take time to plan. And it won’t be cheap.”

The king stood up. “You have three days. Let me know when it’s done.”

He turned and walked out of the room.

Jacob Von Ridden smiled. “Shall we get started?”

CHAPTER THREE

“I’m beginning to ask myself what you two are bringing to this assignment,” Zane said. “Why are you even involved?”

Faraday glanced at Von Ridden, a perplexed smile on his face. Clearly the King’s Sword and Shadow weren’t used to being challenged so bluntly.

Good. Zane needed them back on their heels a bit. To see how they’d react if nothing else.

“We are here,” Faraday said, leaning forward, his elbows on the table, “because our king—your king—asked us to be.”

Zane nodded. “Fair enough. So, to recap, I get us access to the Ferox Great Hall, I locate Danum’s quarters, and mine is the hand that slays him. Correct?”

Von Ridden grimaced. “You ferox pride yourselves on your skills as warriors, no?”

Zane nodded curtly.

“Then might it be fair to assume some of these fierce warriors could move to defend their leader?”

Zane nodded again.

“We can’t afford large numbers,” Von Ridden said. “So we have to bring the best. I have certain thorns that could come in handy against ferox. Glides that will make our passage to Danum’s quarters easier. Shimmers that will make it likely we won’t be seen at all. And Faraday? As good as you think you and your ferox friends are, he’s better. By half.”

Faraday didn’t say anything to support the claim, but he didn’t deny it, either. Zane shot Lily a quick glance, warning her with his eyes not to dispute what Von Ridden had said.

“More importantly, we bring legitimacy,” Faraday said. “Without us, it’s murder. With us, it’s an act of royal will.”

Von Ridden nodded in agreement. “Zane, you have to be the one to plan our infiltration route because you’re the only one of us who will be allowed access to the Hall. And you have to be the one to do the killing because a non-society member killing Danum would cause even more trouble than a ferox doing the deed.”

Zane guarded his tongue, a skill that came easily to him on most occasions. This was different. Von Ridden brought out his worst nature. Always had.

“We have three days,” Zane said. “I suggest Lily and I spend tomorrow at the Ferox Great Hall getting the lay of the place, looking for weaknesses in their defenses. Then we’ll come up with a more concrete plan. Any objections?”

There were none.

Zane and Lily were shown to their quarters, a pair of small rooms off the labyrinthine hallway. Zane figured they were probably unoccupied guard’s quarters.

When they were alone, the stoic look fell from Lily’s face for the first time since the king had walked into the council room an hour before.

“What the hell’s going on?” she asked. “They think we’ll actually kill Danum?”

Zane said, “It’s not a simple thing to ask. But when forced to choose between guild and nation, I choose nation every time.”

He made a tiny motion with his hand and hoped she caught it. It was all he dared risk. They were almost certainly being listened to, but there was a chance they were also being observed. It wouldn’t be difficult with these stone walls to carve out a hole and use some sort of optical illusion to make it difficult to detect. Exactly the type of thing Jacob Von Ridden loved to do. Before he had been an apprentice abditus, he’d been a passable stage illusionist. And that wasn’t even taking into account the treasure trove of outlawed and long-forgotten magical devices he now had sole access to as the King’s Shadow. For all Zane knew, Von Ridden might have been listening to his private conversations for years.

Von Ridden was arguably the second most powerful man in the nation. The thought made Zane shudder. It made him remember that night so many years ago when Zane had investigated Von Ridden’s workshop. The night Von Ridden had shown Zane his true nature for the first time.

Lily squeezed her lips together in a thin line. She got the message.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “It was just unexpected.” She glanced around for a moment, perhaps wondering what it was Zane saw that she didn’t. “What do we do now?”

He stretched and feigned a yawn. “We get some rest. Tomorrow we visit the Hall.”

It wasn’t until the next morning, out of the castle and on the road toward the Ferox Great Hall, that Zane finally felt comfortable talking openly.

“You had the night,” he said to Lily, leaning toward her so she could hear him over the din of the city street. “What’s your assessment?”

She didn’t answer immediately, which was good. He had been afraid she might just shout at him and tell him to shove his question. But her not answering right away meant his ploy—treating this as if it were a training exercise—was working.

“It’s bad,” Lily said finally.

Zane waited, letting her decide how to continue, letting the obvious statement pass without comment.

He felt pain in his right leg at every step as they walked. It wasn’t better than the day before, but it wasn’t worse, either. That meant the poison wasn’t spreading. They’d stopped it. Lily had stopped it.

After a moment, she continued. “We can’t say no, not to the king. But carrying out the act causes all sorts of other trouble. Putting aside the moral issues of killing the head of your own society, we’d be outcasts. No ferox would ever trust us again. We’d never be referred to another client.”

He watched her as she talked. She was looking up, glancing from one side of the street to the other. Buildings were taller and closer together than back home. But he could tell from the careful way she glanced back and forth this wasn’t just some country girl gazing at the sights of the big city. Lily saw those buildings as possible angles of attack and she was searching for signs of danger. Despite everything that was happening, it made Zane’s heart proud.

“The thing I don’t understand,” Lily said, “is the plan of succession. So they kill Charles Danum to make Tavel happy. What then? They’ve got two hundred angry ferox who suddenly hate King Edward.”

She was getting it now. Or almost getting it. He resisted the urge to take the final few steps for her.

She looked at Zane suddenly. “They have someone in the society. Someone else. Someone who can take charge.”

Zane nodded. “I concur.”  She was almost there.

She bit her lip, deep in thought, but her eyes still scanned the upper story windows and roofs for movement. “But to put things right in with Ferox Society…” Her face suddenly went pale. “We’re the scapegoats. The king will deny having anything to do with this. And the new head of the society, the inside man, will back the king. And we…what will happen? We’ll swing! No, worse. We’ll get the traitor’s death.”

Her breathing was fast now.

Zane put a steadying hand on her arm. “Not us. Me.”

She let out a sharp laugh. “You think they’ll just let me walk? After everything I’ve seen? That’s why they wouldn’t let me go last night. I’d heard too much already.”

“Listen to me, I have a plan.”

Lily relaxed visibly, her shoulders dropping. “Thank God. Tell me.”

They were less than a block from the Ferox Great Hall now, so Zane paused, trying to time this out so she wouldn’t be able to ask questions.

“I’ve figured out how we can keep you away from the actual killing.”

“Just me?” Lily asked. Her voice suddenly sounded more aggressive than it had so far today, more like the normal Lily. “What about you?”

“Hear me out. We can’t save us both. But we can save you. In a way the king will go along with. And, if I’m right, a way he’ll reward. You’ll have a long career after this. Maybe not as a ferox, not officially anyway, but the king will find a good use for someone with your skills, whatever your title.”

“Tell me,” she said in a breathy voice Zane could barely hear over the street noise.

“You are going to take your placement exam.”

Her eyes went wide, but just as Zane had planned, they’d reached the doors of the Ferox Great Hall.

Zane went inside before she could respond.

***

The Ferox Great Hall, according to popular legend, had been designed to keep its highly skilled members from entering via any method other than the front door. The walls were smooth and sloped slightly outwards, and the first four levels had no windows. The area around the building was clear of shrubbery and trees. It was said guards were stationed on the roof of the building, and they kept constant watch over the grounds.

Zane didn’t buy into the myth. There were other ways in. There were always other ways. But finding such ways would take time, a luxury he did not have. He’d decided almost immediately that whatever plan they made would need to include a legitimate reason for walking through the front door.

Today, Zane entered with confidence, taking long strides, his gaze straight in front of him. Appearances were always important, but here—where every person in the building had received advanced training in detecting deception—it was even more essential.

In Zane’s experience, a confident demeanor wasn’t the product of overthinking. One must set his mind, steel his spine, and proceed as if he were the king himself.

So, Zane didn’t look around to see who else was in the lobby. He didn’t glance back to see if Lily was following him. He strode to the clerk’s desk at the edge of the lobby with confidence, bravado, and just a sprinkling of impatience.

The young man sitting behind the desk could have been a clerk at any of the dozen of great halls throughout the city.  He had a long, thin face unspeckled with whiskers. The look of a man just starting out in the world. An up-and-comer. This being the Great Hall of the Ferox Society, this man was undoubtedly a trained ferox. The fact that he was so young conveyed that he must be a quick study in the hidden arts.

Zane suddenly wished he’d worn his society ring, a simple gold band with innocent-looking engravings that revealed his status within the society and his tenure to those who knew how to read it. He almost never wore the thing—some more worldly people might be able to mark him as a ferox by that ring even if they couldn’t decipher all its markings—but today should have been an exception. It might have changed the look on the clerk’s face from mild annoyance to one of respect.

He greeted Zane with a slight nod and the merest suggestion of a polite smile.

Zane felt Lily at his shoulder and saw by her shadow she was already fidgeting. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been a bit fidgety himself on his first visit to the Great Hall, though that had been under very different circumstances.

The clerk wasn’t going to lower himself to speak to Zane apparently, not until Zane identified himself as someone who belonged here and was worthy of attention. Zane felt a twinge of annoyance. The politics. The stringent adherence to traditions. This was why he avoided this hall.

It was no use. He’d have to be the first to speak. “Brother Ferox,” he began. “We come here today to seek approval for a placement exam for my apprentice.”

The clerk’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly. That had gotten his attention. The exams were probably some of the most exciting events of this poor sap’s year. Zane couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kid. Thought he was going to go to work killing for profit and he ended up working a desk. The price of ambition. That would never happen to Zane. Or Lily, if Zane could help it. Though after this, maybe a desk job was the best she would be able to hope for.

The clerk nodded respectfully toward Lily in a way that told Zane the clerk had recently passed his own exam.

“Can I get your name and the name of your apprentice, please?”

Zane gave the information and the man’s eyes widened further. He’d heard of Zane, of course. Ferox Halloway was one of only four assassins in the society, a position that dictated the utmost respect. Zane just hoped the young man wouldn’t ask questions about the pirate Longstrain. It wouldn’t be the first time someone in this hall had tried to get that story out of him.

The man walked briskly across the lobby and disappeared around a corner, his heels clicking on the marble floor. Some ferox.

Lily wore a frozen smile. “I’m not ready,” she said, her voice a hissed whisper.

He met her eyes. “You will be.”

“When? You said yourself—”

“Day after tomorrow. That’s when it will be scheduled. And that’s when we’ll do the job.”

Her smile suddenly looked more artificial. “There’s no way. They said in the academy most apprentices spend months of intense study before they take the exam. We haven’t even begun to discuss escape techniques.”

“You’ll be ready,” Zane said, his voice calm, his gaze steady. “You have more potential than any apprentice I’ve ever had. You could be the greatest ferox of your generation.”

She paused. He knew he’d shocked her, but he was impressed how the surprise didn’t register on her face. He’d never told her how he felt about her potential.

After a moment, she said, “Thank you. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ll need more than potential to pass the exam. What if I fail?”

To Zane’s surprise, the question angered him. What if she failed? She knew the answer. If she failed, she’d never be a ferox. An apprentice only had one chance to pass the exam. A failure would relegate her to a life of untrained labor. She would likely have to move back to the farm she’d grown up on. Or perhaps get a serving job in one of the lesser noble families. Her ferox training could be put to use gathering gossip and rumors for some paranoid lord or lady. At best, she might hope to get a job as a shopkeep, though without family connections, that was unlikely.

And it wasn’t like Zane would be around to help her. Whether she passed or failed the exam, the results would be the same for Zane. But he wouldn’t think about that now. He had to focus on what could be changed, what could be saved. The king had given them a deadline of three days; there was no time for self-pity.

“We have no choice,” he said to Lily, his voice sharper than he’d intended.

“Ferox Halloway.” The clerk was back, and using the respectful title now. As expected, there was a concerned look on his face.

Zane waited for him to continue.

The clerk cleared his throat. “Ferox Halloway, our records indicate Lily Rhodes has been your apprentice for just over two years. Is that correct?”

“It is.”

The clerk blinked hard before continuing. “As you may know, the recommended term of apprenticeship is six years prior to taking the exam.”

“I do.”

“Err, wonderful.” A few beads of sweat were standing on the young man’s forehead now. “You may or may not be aware of this, but requests for an exam for any apprentice who has served less than a four-year term must be approved by the head of the society.”

Zane allowed a wide smile to grow on his face. Of course he’d been aware. That was what had made this plan so workable. “Excellent. Is Ferox Danum available to discuss the matter?”

The remaining pigment in the man’s face drained away. “It’s not that simple. Perhaps you’d like to make an appointment. He may have an opening sometime in the next few weeks.”

Zane leaned forward, resting the tips of his outstretched fingers lightly on the clerk’s desk. The man had read about him. In general, Zane hated his notoriety among the others in his society. The legend that had grown around what happened with Longstrain. But now, in his moment of need, he was not above using it to his advantage.

“Brother Ferox, I have requested to speak with my senior officer. Are you denying my request? If so, I’d like to get your reason for doing so. In writing.”

The clerk paused, the discomfort and indecision plain on his face. Disturb his most senior boss and risk being reprimanded, or deny a legend and risk worse?

Finally, the clerk said, “If you’ll excuse me a moment.” The clicking of his heels was louder this time as he disappeared into the depths of the hall.

Lily spoke through gritted teeth. “What now?”

Zane glanced around. A few clusters of ferox chatted happily throughout the lobby, but that didn’t fool Zane. They’d all noticed the disturbance Zane had caused by now. They were all watching, listening, even as they continued their casual conversations.

“Now,” Zane said, “the request will work its way through the ranks. They will come get me eventually, but it may be a while. When they do, you wait here. Be on your best behavior. No snooping around. Remember your place.”

Lily looked up at the beautifully painted ceiling high above. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

It was only ten minutes before another man—this one a shorter, fatter ferox at least fifteen years the clerk’s senior—returned and offered to escort Zane to Charles Danum’s offices.

The ferox led Zane to a staircase in the far corner of the hall. As they went up and up the winding staircase, Zane scanned the environment with his eyes, searching for exploitable weaknesses. He found few. This would not be easy.

As Zane ascended the steps, the job became more real, and he began to consider the most important question of all. Would he do this job? Could he? To save Lily’s life, to protect the nation from war, could he kill the head of his own society? The society he’d sworn allegiance when he’d passed his own placement exam twelve years ago?

Zane did not know the answer. But he needed to figure it out, and soon.

There was only one room at the top of the stairs, and the door was guarded by two ferox: a tall muscular man, and a slim, sinewy woman. They nodded at Zane and his guide, stepping aside as they approached. Clearly they’d been notified Zane was coming.

Zane’s guide knocked once and waited.

“Enter,” came a deep voice from within the room.

The guide opened the door and motioned Zane inside.

Charles Danum rose from his desk as Zane entered. A wide smile split his gaunt face. He came around the front of the desk and enthusiastically shook Zane’s hand. “Zane Halloway! I never thought I’d see the day when you graced these halls. I thought you ran at anything that had even the whiff of politics.”

Zane was surprised to feel a genuine smile grow on his own face. He’d forgotten how much he’d liked this man back in the academy. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for a good cause. My apprentice Lily Rhodes is a remarkable—”

Danum held up a hand, stopping him. “Yes, yes. If you say she’s ready, that’s good enough for me. A bit unorthodox, but your judgment means a lot. Besides, it’s your reputation on the line, not mine. We can schedule it as soon as you’d like.”

Zane blinked hard. That was…far easier than he’d expected. “Thank you. I think you’ll be impressed with her performance. She’ll be making great waves in the society, and soon.”

“Fine.” Danum waved Zane into a chair in front of the large desk and then took a seat himself. “I’m happy to do you a favor.” A sly smile crept across his face. “But I have a favor to ask in return. And it’s not a small one.”

Zane felt his blood go cold. Politics. “Tell me.”

“Your timing is remarkable. We have a very large problem, and the future of the society itself is at stake.” He paused for a moment. “I can see by the look on your face you think I’m being dramatic. But trust me, I’m not. I believe you have a bit of a history with Jacob Von Ridden.”

Zane nodded distantly. What was happening here?

“You may or may not know he is the King’s Shadow. By all accounts, he’s a good one. The king trusts him above almost all others. But this problem…Zane, I’ve thought and thought about this and there is only one solution I can come to. I need you to kill Jacob Von Ridden.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“Allow your body to go perfectly slack,” Jacob Von Ridden told Lily.

She had tensed her muscles in anticipation of the ropes, one of the few tricks Zane had taught her about escaping bonds. She had assumed they’d get to those lessons later. Now she would be taking her placement exam in two days’ time; there was no later. She needed to know everything she could be tested on.

Pass or fail, ferox candidates were forbidden from speaking about the test after they had taken it, and it was a vow they took seriously. What was known were the skills that would be covered. Deductive reasoning, hand-to-hand combat, stealth, and escape from bonds. And, since Lily had apprenticed under an assassin, Zane had hinted hers would contain something more.

She was unconcerned about hand-to-hand, stealth, and deductive reasoning. But escape from bonds worried her. That was the reason she was in this large open room in the basement of the castle today. The reason Von Ridden was getting ready to tie her up. Apparently Von Ridden had been some sort of stage magician once upon a time and feats of escape had been one of his specialties.

The room must have once been some sort of dungeon. It was all too easy to imagine prisoners being tortured here during less civilized times. Traitors to the crown. Or perceived traitors. Lily knew enough of history to understand a disproportionate amount of those held and made to suffer down here would have shared Lily’s brown skin. And this very room was where many of them had met their nightmarish fates.

Lily thought Von Ridden did not look out of place in this room. She didn’t know the particulars of the duties performed by the King’s Shadow, but torture may very well of been one of them.

Zane sat on a bench sharpening his sword, a wary eye on Von Ridden. He was far enough away that Lily didn’t think he could hear their conversation. But he was watching.

Zane had been sullen ever since they’d returned from the Great Hall. At first, she thought maybe it was the guilt at having to betray his society. But this was something else. Something he wasn’t telling Lily.

“What is it with you two?” Lily asked.

Von Ridden chuckled.

“What?” Lily glared up at him.

“It’s an interesting question,” the Shadow said. “How long have you known Zane?”

Lily scratched at her arm. The sight of the coarse ropes in Von Ridden’s hands made her itch all over. “Two years. A little more, maybe.”

“And you only met me yesterday. Yet I’m the one you’re asking.”

Lily scowled, suddenly aware her actions had perhaps embarrassed her mentor in front of his enemy. “Is that a roundabout way of saying you’re not going to tell me?”

He chuckled and patted her shoulder. “Remember what I said. Try to relax.”

Von Ridden slowly uncoiled the rope as he ran it through his hands.

“I’ve been told relaxing is the opposite of what I should do,” she said. “If I tense all my muscles, I’ll have room to maneuver when I do relax.”

He shrugged. “In an ideal situation, sure. That’s not how it will happen at the test. Would you like me to tell you?”

Lily stared up at Von Ridden with wide eyes. “You know?” She was surprised when her voice came out a harsh whisper.

Von Ridden nodded. “I can tell you. Prepare you for what’s to come.”

She thought about that for a moment. “No. It’s not allowed. No one is allowed to talk about the test.”

Von Ridden smiled like a cat who’d just cornered a mouse. “Ah, but that’s not true, is it? Ferox are not allowed to talk about it. And I am not a ferox.”

Lily shook her head. “It’s still breaking the rules. Someone told you at some point. It must have been a ferox.”

“Perhaps so. Perhaps a rule was broken. But it wasn’t I who broke it. And—to my knowledge—there is no rule stating you can’t listen to someone else discuss the test. Besides, you’re not being given the chance to prepare. You weren’t planning to take the test. You need every advantage you can get. So, I ask again, do you want me to tell you?”

She looked over at Zane. He was still watching them as he slowly sharpened his blade. He was too far away to hear any of this. Wasn’t he?

Lily met Von Ridden’s eyes and gave the slightest of nods.

“Good,” he said. “When you enter the testing room, you’ll be asked to drink a cup of water. The water will, of course, be drugged. When you awaken, you will be bound and the clock will already be running. You’ll have two hours to complete the exam, starting the moment the proctor feels you are beginning to revive. Depending on your constitution, it might take you anywhere from five to twenty minutes to be fully alert after they start the clock.” He pulled the rope taunt in his hands. “Since you will be unconscious when they tie you, you won’t have the chance to tense your muscles. So, in the interest of realism, I suggest you go as limp as if you had been drugged. And I will tie you.”

Lily did as he asked, and a few moments later the rough hemp bit into the flesh of her wrists. He’d tied her hands behind her back.

“This is how they’ll bind you,” Von Ridden said. “Unfortunately, my source was unable to determine the type of knot used, which would have helped us greatly. As it is, I’ll take you through a series of the most common.”

So, for the next three hours, they did just that. Von Ridden started with a figure eight style knot. He showed her how by twisting her wrist and tightening one-half of the loop she could create a bit of slack in the other. Then he moved on to the more difficult knots.

At one point, he said, “Hmm, how do you feel about breaking your thumbs? Do you feel that would impair your performance in the other phases of the exam?”

She just stared at him, not sure if he was joking.

Zane had disappeared at some point. Now he was back, and Faraday had joined him. The two were deep in conversation. The King’s Sword was shirtless and covered in sweat. Perhaps he’d just returned from practicing his forms? She had to admit, he cut a fine figure. In fact, his presence made it difficult to concentrate. That is, until she saw Von Ridden grinning at her, clearly aware of what held her attention. Her face grew hot with embarrassment and she returned to the task of freeing herself from Von Ridden’s latest painfully tight knot.

When she’d finally managed to escape from the rope, she rubbed her wrists. They were raw and sore. What she wouldn’t give for some balm. But she wouldn’t give Von Ridden the satisfaction of asking for it. Not now, anyway.

Von Ridden scratched at his chin. “Well, those are all the major families of knots. And I’m proud to say you defeated all of them.” He bent and picked up the rope off the ground. “Now that you have the confidence of victory, let’s work on your speed. We’ll start at the beginning and go through them all again.”

The breath caught in Lily’s throat. After a moment, she said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you, I’m not.” He pulled a small, silver object out of his pocket and tossed it to her. “Here. This should help things along.”

It was a small, hooked blade.

“We’ll conceal it in the small of your back,” he said. “No guarantees they won’t discover it while you’re drugged, of course. That’s why we had to practice without any aids. If you wake and find the blade gone, I don’t want you to panic. But if they fail to discover it…this type of blade is used by stage magicians to escape all manner of entanglements. I’ll show you how to use it discreetly. It should speed things along rather nicely.”

This time, it only took an hour to free herself from all the knots. She could have done it more quickly, but Von Ridden made her work slowly and meticulously. He showed her how to hold the blade so it couldn’t be seen by observers, even if they were standing right next to her.

At one point she asked, “Is this cheating? Should we even consider doing this?”

Von Ridden squinted at her. “We’re going to kill the head of their society. Do you really care about their silly rules?”

“Yes.” She said it quickly, without thinking, and she knew it was the truth. It took her a moment longer before she could articulate why. “If I take the test and pass it by cheating, I’ll be a ferox. But I’ll never really know if I was good enough. I’ll spend my whole life wondering if I deserve the title.”

Von Ridden sat down next to her on the bench. “Ferox. They are nothing more than someone who operates in shadows, yes? Someone who excels at getting the job done using any means necessary. It’s what sets their society apart. In their opinion, a job completed is by definition a job well done. Do you disagree?”

She had to admit she did not.

He continued, “In some ways, circumnavigating the rules might be the most ferox way of all to pass the exam. Let nothing stop you in your duty. That’s the creed of your society, if stated a bit more crudely than it is on the official seal.”

Her eyes drifted back to Faraday, his bare chest dripping sweat, his sword across his knees.

And once again, Von Ridden caught her stare.

He leaned forward and spoke in a soft voice. “You know, your mentor and I once had a very interesting debate. This was back when he was an apprentice abditus and I was newly minted from my own placement exam. For a while there, we became…well, perhaps friends is too strong a word. But we respected each other. You might say we each saw a kindred spirit, an intellect worthy of engaging in spirited discussion. Anyway, one day at the pub the topic of the King’s Sword and Shadow came up. I don’t remember how. But your master Halloway had a very interesting theory.”

Across the room, Faraday was leaning close and speaking passionately on some topic Lily was too far away to hear. But Zane’s eyes were still distant. He wasn’t engaged in the conversation. His mind was elsewhere. It was the same look he wore when working through a problem while sitting in his favorite chair in his study back home. Lily had learned to leave him alone during these times. She knew that his best ideas often came after long sessions of quiet brooding. Faraday apparently hadn’t learned that lesson. He jabbered on, oblivious to Zane’s disengagement.

“What was his theory?” Lily asked.

“Zane believed the Sword and the Shadow needn’t be two separate positions at all. He believed one man could attend to both duties. He believed the king need only employ a sufficiently skilled ferox.”

Lily turned and looked at him. “A ferox.”

“You see, even back then—back when he fully intended to be an abditus—your mentor had an unhealthy obsession with the society to which he now belongs. That night, he told me he believed a good ferox is the match for any abditus when it comes to clandestine activities. And he felt a ferox could match the martial prowess of even the most dedicated of warriors. So having two people as the Sword and the Shadow was superfluous. That was his opinion back then, anyway. I wonder if he still feels that way?”

Von Ridden looked toward Zane and spoke loudly. “Do you still think that, Halloway? How do you think your swordplay matches up against Faraday’s?”

Zane scowled, a look all too common on his face lately. “I can’t remember ever having said I was Faraday’s match.”

Von Ridden rose to his feet. “No. But you did once tell me a good ferox is the match of any warrior. You are by all accounts a very good ferox. And Faraday is most certainly a warrior. What do you two say to a little sparring?”

Faraday wore an amused smile. “I’m game if you are, Ferox.”

Lily slipped her hand out of the rope, and she suppressed a groan of pain as the cord rubbed against her irritated skin. If she could get them distracted with a sparring match, perhaps this hellish ordeal would be over. Besides, she had to admit she wouldn’t protest seeing a shirtless Faraday in action.

Zane paused a long moment before answering. “I think it’s best we focus on the task at hand. There will be time to play games when it’s over.”

Lily couldn’t help herself. “You always say sparring with skilled opponents is the best way to improve. Certainly Faraday qualifies.”

Zane sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He looked older than he had a few days ago. The leg was bothering him, Lily knew, but it was more than that. It was as if there was a weight on him. Zane was a man who treasured his independence, his autonomy, and his freedom above all else. Now, with one request from the king, that was all being taken away from him. And he might never get it back.

Lily was curious. Would these circumstances make him more effective, or less?

Zane put his hands against his lower back and stretched. “All right. I assume you have practice swords handy?”

Faraday seemed like the type of man who might have practice swords with him at all times, just in case the need arose. He trotted to a cabinet against the wall and took out two wooden swords. He tossed one to Zane.

“Standard scoring system, I assume?” the King’s Sword asked. “First to five points takes the match?”

Zane took a few practice swings with the wooden sword to get the weight of it. “We don’t use point systems in my line of work. How about we just try to hit each other until one of us causes a wound that would be fatal if these blades were real. Best of three, let’s say?”

Faraday nodded. He saluted Zane with his blade, then raised it to the en garde position. Suddenly the wooden sword looked like a very noble weapon indeed. “When you’re ready.”

Zane, in sharp contrast, saluted, then let his sword hang by his side.

He brought it up, quick as Lily had ever seen him move. He lunged wildly. Faraday parried the blow, but he clearly hadn’t expected such an unorthodox attack and deflected it at an awkward angle.

Zane pressed his opening and slipped his sword past Faraday’s off-balance parry, tapping the King’s Sword firmly on the side of the head with the flat of the blade.

Zane lowered his sword. “First point to me, then?”

Faraday’s face reddened. “So it would appear.”

Lily elbowed Von Ridden. “Maybe Zane was right.”

Von Ridden surprised Lily by grinning at her. “I suspect that won’t happen again.”

The two men raised their swords and both nodded to confirm their readiness.

This time, Faraday struck first. His blade moved so fast, Lily’s eyes could barely track it. Zane deflected the first blow—barely—and tried a counterstrike of his own. Faraday parried casually, like a man swatting at a fly, and struck again with another thrust. Zane twisted his body, and the sword missed his rib cage by an inch.

Now Faraday feigned another thrust, and Zane bit, committing his sword to block a blow that never came. Instead, Faraday brought his blade up, turned it, and tapped Zane on the temple. Almost the exact spot Zane had scored a hit only a moment ago.

Zane grimaced. He shifted his weight, testing his injured leg, Lily suspected, calculating how far he could push it.

Von Ridden clapped his hands like a delighted child. “Wonderful. Next match decides the day.”

Neither Faraday nor Zane spoke. Their eyes were locked on each others and their jaws were set. Suddenly it appeared they were taking this little game a lot more seriously.

“When you’re ready,” Zane said. Was that a little taunt? A reminder of how the first match had gone?

Faraday swung at Zane’s head, a sharp arching blow that reminded Lily of a whip snapping. Zane brought his blade up and deflected the blow, but before the ferox could take an offensive position, the tip of Faraday’s blade was rushing toward his chest. Again, Zane deflected it, and again Faraday attacked from another angle.

Faraday’s sword-work was fast—so fast—but unless Lily was mistaken it wasn’t quite as fast as it had been in the second match. She had the sinking feeling Faraday was toying with Zane.

It went on like that for the next thirty seconds: Faraday attacking and Zane successfully defending himself—if barely. Then a smile grew on Faraday’s lips, and he shifted his weight back on his heels.

Zane attacked—just as Faraday must have known he would—and Faraday parried. But unlike Zane’s frantic defense, Faraday’s looked almost relaxed. Zane pressed and Faraday deflected blow after blow, his sword moving like a snake, somehow always anticipating where Zane’s blade would strike a moment before the strike happened.

Then Lily noticed something strange. The way Zane was holding his sword, the way his wrist was turned…that was the way Lily had held her sword when she’d first come to work with Zane, and how he’d scolded her. He’d shown her again and again what could happen.

Sure enough, a moment later Faraday struck Zane’s sword with a sharp blow near the pommel, and it went flying from Zane’s hand and careened to the floor. He tapped Zane in the chest, and the match was over.

It was quiet for a long moment in the musty room. Only the sounds of the two swordsmen breathing heavily and the distant drip of water broke the silence.

“Well,” Von Ridden said finally. “That answers the question.”

Lily suddenly felt guilty for goading her mentor into the match. She’d known he wasn’t at his best, physically or mentally. There was the leg. And his distress over the job they were being forced to do.

But the way he’d held his wrist hadn’t been because of either of those. There was something else going on here.

Faraday held out a hand to Zane. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I get a little…carried away.”

Zane shook the hand and flashed a forced smile. “The warrior’s blood. I would expect nothing less from the King’s Sword. It seems the stories I’ve heard about you may have understated your ability.”

“You exceed your reputation as well,” Faraday said, but something in his eyes made Lily think he didn’t mean it.

Lily wanted very much to be out of this dank dungeon as quickly as possible. But if Von Ridden had more information that could help her pass the exam, she needed to hear it.

“What happens after I escape the ropes?” Lily asked.

Von Ridden smiled sadly. “I don’t know. My source didn’t make it that far.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Zane waited until one in the morning, an hour before the guards would change, and he snuck into the belly of the castle.

There were two things he wanted to accomplish tonight. Time was short and things had to be put into motion. But this was also partly for him. He needed to regain his sense of control.

He and Lily had been led only through out-of-the-way halls and hidden doors since they’d arrived. They’d never once come into contact with anyone other than the king, the Sword and the Shadow, and the King’s Guard. In other words, no one who wasn’t necessary for the plan. This worried Zane. If he wanted to be optimistic about it, he could assume they were doing it in case he was caught, so the king would have plausible deniability. But he couldn’t afford to be optimistic. Not now.

The term that had been running through his mind all day was damage control. He and Lily had been pulled into a conflict between nations. They were pawns, and what king could possibly expect to win the day without sacrificing a pawn or two? Lily’s exam and the assassination of Charles Danum were meant to take place tomorrow. Zane’s options were limited. If he’d had weeks to scheme and put his connections to work, he might have been able to move some bigger wheels or draw some larger political targets that would make this whole job irrelevant. As it now stood, there was only one thing Zane could do: he needed to make it so it was more troublesome to kill Zane and Lily then it was to let them live. He had an idea, a scrap of an idea anyway, but he needed to flesh it out and make it reality. By tomorrow.

Getting past the guards was disturbingly easy. They were tasked with keeping people out of this part of the castle, not with keeping people in. That was a good sign, Zane supposed. He waited for a clear path as they made their hourly rounds, then snuck up the stairs to the castle proper. He was halfway up the stairs before he stopped to consider how he’d get back into that wing of the castle. Too late for that now. Onward he went.

He had a general idea of the layout of the castle. He’d been in audience at a few official dinners back in the days when he’d cared about such things. He wound his way through twisting back corridors until he arrived at the part of the castle he thought contained the quarters of the important people not of royal lineage. From there, he hid in the shadows, eavesdropping and watching the ebb and flow of the servants, picking up from their cues where the people they most feared lived.

If there was one thing Zane knew about Jacob Von Ridden, it was that the servants would fear him.

After an hour, he tried one likely candidate, only to find a gruff, old, bearded man snoring loudly in his bed. The next room he tried was a woman of some importance (from the way the servants talked). She had a man twenty years her junior sharing her bed.

As he waited, he learned the servants loved Faraday second only to the king himself. Figured. That man was the real deal. Zane hoped he wouldn’t have to kill him.

Finally, on the third try, Zane found Jacob’s chambers. The Shadow slept alone. A high-pitched wheezing noise escaped his throat when he exhaled. Zane quietly pulled open the curtain covering the window, and moonlight fell across the bed. Jacob looked so helpless lying there. He might be the second most powerful man in the nation, but he was as vulnerable as any other when he slept.

Zane pulled a steel dagger from his belt and crept forward. He looked down on Von Ridden. The man’s head was tilted back and his neck was conveniently exposed.

The ferox rested the cold steel against the skin of Von Ridden’s neck and a wheezing breath caught in the man’s throat.

Zane waited just a moment, then said, “Just so you know that I can.”

Von Ridden’s breathing was controlled now. “Point taken.”

Zane returned the dagger to his belt.

Jacob pushed himself to a sitting position and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Is there another purpose to this visit other than causing me a case of night terrors?”

Zane sank into a chair in the corner. “Yes. I wanted to talk in a place I knew we wouldn’t be overheard.”

Jacob chuckled. “We are still in the castle. What makes you think this is any more private than your chambers?”

“Please, Jacob. I know you. You would have seen to it you had your privacy.” Zane looked around for a moment. From what he could see in the dim moonlight, this room was richly appointed with fineries that outstretched any of the local nobles Zane was used to dealing with. “I’m curious how you managed to get yourself appointed King’s Shadow. I imagine there’s a story there.”

Jacob stifled a yawn. “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell. I know you think I wormed my way into power through unsavory means, but the truth is much more boring. I worked hard as an abditus and stayed active in Abditus Society politics, but not so active as to make myself toxic to either side. I was diligent, a friend to any who had need. And then I was in the right place at the right time. I’d assisted one of the king’s favorite cousins in a matter that required some discretion. So, when the position opened, my name came up. The king met with me and asked some questions. Apparently he liked my answers.”

Zane bit his lip. Jacob was right; he had thought it would be much more manipulative than that.

“I know you don’t like me,” Jacob said.

“That,” Zane said, “is accurate.”

“And I don’t blame you for that considering what happened between us. But here’s the thing. You’re letting your entire perception of me be colored by one event that took place when I was twenty-two years old. There is so much more to me than that.”

Zane’s leg suddenly barked in pain, sending an involuntary shudder through him. After it passed, he said, “Why did you suggest me to the king?”

Jacob swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I guess I always felt a little sorry about what happened. I thought you deserved better than to be a local assassin in a nowhere town that barely qualifies as a city.”

A sudden anger leapt into Zane’s chest. “You screwed me. Me and my apprentice both. There is no way this ends well for us.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short. If you perform well here, who knows what happens? The king is a good man. He doesn’t forget a service.”

“And if the Ferox Society requires the head of the man who killed Danum?”

Jacob paused a moment before answering. “That is unlikely to happen. As long as the society members like the replacement, they will quickly forget what happened to the predecessor.  Look at your history. How many Ferox Society heads have died by non-violent means in the last hundred years? Three?”

“That’s different. Internal struggles are part of the Society’s marrow. But an external interference, even from the king, will not be easily forgotten. So I’ll ask again. What if they require the head of the assassin?”

Jacob sighed. “There is a plan. One I’m not at liberty to discuss.”

“That doesn’t exactly calm my nerves.”

Jacob took a glass of water off the table and took a sip. “Then allow me to propose an alternate solution. Tomorrow night, after you do the job, I’ll have a ship waiting for you. A ship with a very beautiful and discreet captain. The destination is up to you. I’ll give you enough thrones to set up a nice new life for yourself wherever you land. Though I suspect you don’t need it.”

Zane was truly surprised at the offer. Letting Zane slip away after the job would lessen their ability to use him as a scapegoat. “And how would the king feel about that?”

Jacob shrugged. “That’s my problem.”

Another jolt of pain shot through Zane’s leg, but he was ready this time and braced himself. He was certain Jacob wouldn’t be able to see the shudder from all the way across the room. Almost certain. “And what does this cost me?”

Jacob leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “Lily.”

Zane rose from his seat, his face suddenly hot with anger. “Excuse me?”

The King’s Shadow held up a hand. “As an apprentice.”

Zane relaxed, but only slightly. “Your apprentice?”

Jacob nodded. “I’ve been wanting to take one for a while. Laugh if you want, but I think I’d be a good teacher. Lily’s a quick study. She proved that today. I took the liberty of pulling the results of her Tens—which was no small feat considering the backwater she grew up in—and found she did demonstrate some aptitude for the magical arts. She’d have to spend a year or so at the Academy, but then she’d be able to join me here. An apprenticeship in the king’s court is not exactly a bad start to a career, you know. You’d be doing her a favor.”

Zane suddenly realized his hand was resting on the hilt of his sword. “Tell me you’re not seriously bartering for my apprentice.”

“I’m offering to do you a favor. You and her both. And, let’s be honest, she’s not going to pass that test tomorrow. It’s too soon for her. Regardless of what happens, she’ll never be a ferox.”

“Jacob, Lily is a human being both willing and able to make her own decisions. You want her to be your apprentice? Ask her. I’ll release her from her commitment to me if that’s what she wants.” He spit out his next words slowly, so there was no mistaking them. “But I don’t barter in human life.”

“No,” Jacob said. “You barter in human death.” He waved a hand in the air. “Fine. Forget I asked. Was there anything else?”

Zane took a deep breath. “Yes.” This next part was hard. Revealing information to Von Ridden. Treating him like an actual partner. But it was necessary. Zane had to keep reminding himself of that fact. “Something happened yesterday. I didn’t tell you sooner because I wanted you to be the one to decide if the king learns this information.”

Jacob tilted his head. “What is it?”

“Yesterday, when I met with Charles Danum, he asked me to kill you.”

There was just enough moonlight for Zane to see the color drain from Jacob’s face.

The Shadow’s voice was weak when he spoke. “How much does he know?”

“He knows a ferox was captured. He knows the king is considering retaliation. And he believes whatever the king chooses to do, it will very likely be done by you.” Zane let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “It seems you’ve made quite the reputation for yourself. They fear you even in the Ferox Great Hall.”

There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Jacob said, “What does he think it will accomplish? If you were to succeed in killing me, it’s not like there wouldn’t be a replacement. I’d like to flatter myself by thinking I’m the most dangerous abditus alive, but, armed with the thorns and tangles at my disposal, there are a dozen of my peers who could do as well.”

“It’s about making a statement,” Zane said. “It would send a message to the king that he’d better think about possible repercussions before he gives the Ferox Society up for political reasons. And you’re the perfect target to send that message. Just close enough to the king to let him know he himself is vulnerable, but, as you said, ultimately replaceable.”

“Yes,” Jacob muttered as he rubbed his chin. “I can see the wisdom in that.” He looked up at Zane, a slow smile on his face. “At least now you know the head of your society finds you as disposable a tool as the king does.”

“That thought had crossed my mind.” It was getting late, Zane realized, and he still had one more errand to attend to this night. He needed to wrap this up. “This doesn’t change our plan, but perhaps it could give the king an excuse the Ferox Society would accept, potentially eliminating the need for a scapegoat to take the fall.”

Jacob smiled. “You could be right on that count. You could be right.”

After reassuring Jacob on the infallibility of their plan, and literally tucking him into bed with soothing proclamations of their inevitable success tomorrow, Zane took his leave and made his way to an exterior hallway. He slipped out a window and climbed to the ground.

Von Ridden didn’t know about this next task. In fact, it was essential to Zane’s success that he didn’t.

Zane moved through the darkened city streets like a ghost, keeping to the shadows and slipping unseen past the few people in the streets. In truth, it wasn’t the most impressive bit of stealth he’d ever done. It was very likely the other people out at this wee hour didn’t want any more attention than Zane did. There were few noble deeds done at two in the morning.

When he finally arrived at the house on the north side of the city, Zane paused and looked up at it for a long while. It had taken him an hour to get here from the castle. He probably could have made it in half the time if he’d hustled, but the drag on his heart slowed his progress. He was very much not looking forward to the conversation that was about to happen. As much as he disliked talking to Jacob Von Ridden, he would relive that uncomfortable conversation ten times over if it meant he could avoid this one.

He scanned the house and considered his plan of attack. There were three vulnerable second-story windows sufficiently tucked away from the street, and the wall looked climbable. And, with no one around, there was very little risk of being spotted as he climbed. If this had been any other house, he would have taken that approach.

But this house was sure to be protected with a wide variety of tangles.

Generally, Zane scoffed at magical devices. They made people feel safer than they really were. A house with tangles was often easier to access than a house without them as the owners usually ignored common sense precautions once they had purchased their magical protective devices. And most of them were oh-so-easy to get around.

But not tonight. Not this house. These tangles Zane respected.

There was only one possible entrance that wouldn’t be set to destroy anyone who accessed it. The front door. If there were tangles protecting it, they would have to be the kind that could be disabled to allow people to pass through when needed.

Sure enough, there was a tangle, but it was of a type Zane had disabled a hundred times before. They were easy enough to defeat if you knew how to find them. He destroyed the tangle with a quick blow from the hilt of his sword. He then got out his lock pick and went to work. Five minutes later he was in the bedroom of the owner of the house. He stood silently for a long time before he worked up the nerve to speak. The woman in that bed was very dangerous, and there was no telling how violent her reaction would be upon waking to find Zane in her bedroom. He had killed her father, after all.

He lit a small lamp and move to the side of her bed.

Finally, he said in a soft, confident voice, “Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.”

Beth Farns sat up with a start and gasped. Her eyes widened as she recognized him. “You!”

Her hand shot toward the nightstand, but Zane caught her wrist before she could grab whatever thorn she kept there.

“Please,” he said. “I’m sorry to invade your privacy like this. But I need you to listen to me for a moment.” He paused, taking the measure of her breathing. She wasn’t trying to scratch his eyes out with her free hand, so that was a good sign. “I’d like to ask you for a favor.”

The noise that came out of her throat was half laugh and half moan. “Why the hell would I ever do anything for you?”

“Because it’s in your best interest,” Zane said. “You’re a businesswoman. And I would like to make you an offer I think you’ll find very interesting.”

CHAPTER SIX

One of the king’s guards knocked on Lily’s door two hours before she was set to leave for the Ferox Society Great Hall.

The guard didn’t say anything; he just motioned for her to follow him. That was all right. Zane had prepared her. She knew where he was taking her.

When they reached the steps to the main section of the castle the guard handed her a maroon shawl. This she hadn’t expected, but she gamely put it on. It was made of a soft, supple fabric Lily couldn’t place, and the color certainly couldn’t have been cheap. He must have been attempting to make her look richer than she was so she’d fit in while visiting the castle proper.

The guard looked at her for a long moment, then adjusted the shawl, pulling it forward a bit over her eyes and arranging it so the ends fell over her shoulder.

She followed him up the steps and, for the first time, set foot in the true home of the King of Opel.

The first thing Lily noticed was the cleanliness. Her basement quarters hadn’t been dirty, not dirtier than any other place she’d ever slept, including Zane’s home, but this was something else. Something otherworldly. The floor was clean of all dirt. The high ceiling was free of soot and cobwebs.

How was such a thing even possible? Did they have servants assigned to each staircase and hallway whose sole job in life was to maintain this unrealistic level of cleanliness? Or was there some sort of magic involved?  Maybe an arsenal of specially designed thorns that attacked dirt and dust? Seemed far-fetched, but so did this entire place.

And the space! So much space. Every hallway was three times wider than it needed to be. Every ceiling towered high above. As a person who’d grown up in a tiny farmhouse where space was at a premium and the only defense against overcrowding was careful and creative planning of every square inch, a small part of Lily was offended at the wasteful layout of the castle. Although, she had to admit it was impressive. If the architect had been going for majestic, he’d certainly hit the mark.

A woman carrying a tray rounded the corner, and Lily was startled to see she was wearing a shawl that perfectly matched Lily’s, including the way it was pulled over her forehead and the ends hung over her shoulders. Lily suddenly felt every inch the country bumpkin. She’d thought the guard had been trying to make her look like a noblewoman when, in fact, he’d been disguising her as a servant.

The guard opened a thick wooden door—they all seemed to be thick wooden doors here—and motioned her inside. She stepped through and heard the crisp click of the latch as the door closed behind her.

Jacob Von Ridden sat behind a tall stack of papers. He was scribbling on the top paper. As she entered, he didn’t look up. He just held up a single finger and kept scribbling.

She waited in silence. She felt like a girl waiting for the schoolmaster.

Finally, he looked up and a wide smile bloomed across his face. “Ah, good. Lily. Welcome.” He motioned toward a chair in front of the table and Lily sat down.

He moved the papers to the side and  folded his hands on the table. “How do you feel about your chances today?”

She waited a moment before answering. She considered lying in order to come off as humble but decided against it. “I’m feeling very good. I’ll pass.”

His thick black eyebrows raised up a half inch. “Really?”

She nodded. “I’m good with tests.”

Von Ridden nodded slowly. “Of course you are. You wouldn’t have gotten Zane Halloway as your mentor if you weren’t. You wouldn’t have gotten into the Ferox Apprenticeship program at all if you hadn’t exceeded expectations on your Tens. But Lily…” He leaned closer and looked her hard in the eyes. “This test was made to defeat people who are good with tests.”

She met his gaze, though she badly wanted to look away. “I’ll pass.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Our mission is unaffected by your success or failure on the exam. That’s not why I called you here. I expect Zane told you what this is about?”

She paused, surprised at that. Zane had told her, but he’d also told her to act as if she didn’t know. She made an executive decision, again for honesty. “He told me you want me to be your apprentice.”

Von Ridden nodded, his eyes a few degrees warmer now. “And what are your thoughts on the matter?”

In truth, Lily had never considered being an abditus. Back at home, she’d never expected to be placed in one of the Academies after taking her Tens. She’d assumed she’d grow up to be a farmer. She’d toyed with the idea of being a blacksmith when she was younger. The concept of molding liquid steel had excited her. But after meeting—and smelling—a few real blacksmiths, that dream had died a quick death. Then the results of her Tens had come back and she had learned she’d won a place at the Ferox Academy. It was so wildly unexpected, it was as if a distant relative had suddenly died and left her a fortune. If that happened, she wouldn’t wish it had been a different distant relative and a different fortune.

So, no, she had never considered being an abditus. It was boon enough she’d found herself a ferox’s apprentice.

But the idea did have a certain appeal.

“I don’t see how it’s possible,” she said. “After I take the test this afternoon, I’ll be a ferox.”

“No,” Von Ridden corrected. “If you pass—and that’s a big if—you’ll be eligible to speak your vows. Only after you speak them will be you a ferox.”

“I’ll pass,” she said for the third time.

Von Ridden chuckled. “I like you more all the time.” He rubbed at his chin for a moment. “Have you considered what I’m offering? What an astounding opportunity this is? For someone like you to be mentored here—in this castle—by someone like me?”

Lily suddenly felt the weight of that stupid shawl on her head. “You mean because of my skin color.”

“No, I meant because you’re a farm girl with no means and no political connections. But now that you mention it, sure, brown-skinned people aren’t common within the castle. Not unless they’re servants.”

Lily started to stand up. “I appreciate the offer. But being an abditus doesn’t interest me. I’d rather work with my hands, up close, no tricks or gimmicks.”

Von Ridden shook his head. “That’s Zane talking. How much do you even know about magic? Do you even understand what thorns and tangles do?”

“Of course,” she said, a little surprised at the question. “Thorns attack. Tangles defend.”

“Yes,” Von Ridden said, “but how?”

Lily opened her mouth to speak and was surprised to find she didn’t have an answer.

“Exactly,” Von Ridden said. “Few can answer that question. Few even think to try. Might as well ask why the stars shine at night or why the waves crash on the shore. They just do.” He stood up and pointed at her. “But I can give you the answer. I can teach you what affects the power of a thorn, and why specific tangles work against some thorns and not others.” He looked at her for a moment, then said, “Follow me.”

He led her out of the room and through a confusing series of halls. More than once, she was sure they were walking in circles. But eventually they came to a small gap in the wall—a wall Lily could have sworn they’d passed twice before and that gap had not been there. There was a steep and narrow staircase that seemed all the more narrow compared to the absurdly wide passages in the rest of the castle. Lily followed Von Ridden up the spiraling steps.

When they reached the top, the passage widened enough that Lily was able to move to Von Ridden’s side in front of the large oak door with a strange, crooked bar across it. The King’s Shadow pulled a small silver disc out of his pocket. Lily thought it looked a bit like a large coin. He moved it across the surface of the door in a complicated pattern Lily’s eyes couldn’t quite follow, and the bar retracted into the wall. Then he took out a key and unlocked the door.

He paused at the doorway and lit the lamp mounted on the wall. He then gestured toward the room. “Take a look. Though I suggest you don’t touch anything.”

Lily took a step into the room and tried to understand what she was seeing.

The walls were lined with shelves. And on the shelves there were…well, she wasn’t sure what it all was. There were knives. And plates. And candlestick holders. And coins. And…on one of the items, a glass orb, she saw a symbol she recognized. The symbol of Irving Farns. That orb was a Farns tangle.

Suddenly she realized what it was.

“This is the king’s magical armory,” she said, the breath catching in her throat.

“Indeed it is. Many objects in this room are one-of-a-kind. I’m the only living person who knows how to use them. And I’ll teach you.”

She ignored that last part for a moment. “Really? You’re the only living person who knows how to use these? What if something happens to you?”

He smiled weakly. “There is documentation. But it would take my replacement years to get up to speed. Now you understand why I need an apprentice.”

She stepped deeper into the room. All the objects, each of them priceless. And more than that, powerful. It may have been her imagination, but she would have sworn she could feel something in the air. Almost like a static charge. It was power, she realized. She could feel it.

She looked at Von Ridden. “You said you’d tell me about thorns and tangles. About how they work.”

He nodded. “Very well. I can give you the basics. Thorns and tangles are a good place to start because they stand in direct opposition.”  He rubbed his chin for a moment as if considering how to begin. “There are powers in the natural world. We all accept that as fact. Invisible powers that affect us every day. The power that causes something to fall when dropped. The power that attracts magnets to metal. The power that makes your hair stand on end when you put on a wool shirt on a dry day. Understand?”

She nodded.

“All these powers have purpose,” he continued. “Sometimes we can harness them to our advantage. Think of a water wheel that uses the natural power of a flowing stream to turn a crank. But there’s another power. This one is floating all around us. And this power has no natural outlet, no clear purpose in the natural world. It’s nature’s beggar. And it’s a source of untapped potential. For lack of a better word, let’s call this power magic.”

Von Ridden was beginning to talk faster now and gesture with his hands as he spoke. Lily had to admit, the man was a good teacher. He would likely be a good mentor.

“Just like an iron skillet conducts heat,” he said, “there are certain combinations of substances that conduct magic. The first magical objects were wild experiments, uncontrollable and unpredictable. One day they might start a fire, the next they were used to read minds. It made them highly impractical. But also fascinating. So, the Abditus Society was formed to study these conductive materials and to create formulas to channel the magic in very specific ways. We put nature’s beggar to work.”

Lily looked at the objects around her with new eyes. She’d always imagined magical devices as somehow containing power. Now Von Ridden was telling her they only channeled it. These things had no power of their own but used the very power in the air to do impossible things. She didn’t know if that was more or less impressive than what she’d assumed.

A thought suddenly occurred to her. “What about elves? They say elves can use magic with their bare hands. They don’t need devices. Does that mean they can somehow channel the power themselves?”

Von Ridden clicked his tongue. “Come now. If those stories were true, don’t you think they would have left the elvish ghetto long ago? Have you seen how they live? If they were able to channel magic with their bare hands, you’d think they could materialize a bath or a chamber pot now and then.”

Lily hadn’t seen the ghetto herself, but she’d heard plenty of tales. She’d met an elf not long ago, on a job with Zane, and he had seemed clean enough. But she didn’t need to share that now.

“Tell me about thorns and tangles,” Lily said.

A childlike smile appeared on his face. “Ah. Of course. Where to begin?” He ran to one of the shelves and picked up an object that looked like a long wooden cane. “There has long been a debate among abditus about whether thornsmen or tanglesmen have the more difficult job. In my opinion, they both have a fairly strong case. This object in my hand is a thorn. Observe.”

He tapped Lily on the right leg with the thorn. She gasped as the leg went numb. She caught the door to keep from falling.

“What you’re experiencing is a classic and elegant thorn,” Von Ridden said. “Thorns conduct magic in ultra-specific ways. This one is meant to make you lose control of specific body parts. Control for a brief period of time goes to the person holding the cane.”

Lily’s eyes widened as her foot began to tap out a complicated rhythm, all without her telling it to do so. “Stop it,” she said, her voice a whisper.

“Disconcerting, isn’t it?” Von Ridden said. “Not to worry, the only remaining thorn of this type is here in my hand.”

“Please,” she said, surprised at the pleading in her voice. “Stop it.”

“I won’t,” he said. “But you can.” He pointed to a shelf behind her.  “That brass plate. Pick it up.”

Lily gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the eerie tapping of her foot. It seemed to be tapping out the rhythm to a song, but she couldn’t guess which one. She reached for the plate, trying not to lose her balance amid the absence of feeling in her leg.

The moment her fingers touched the plate, the involuntary tapping stopped and she could feel her leg again. She curled and uncurled her toes for a moment, confirming that her muscles obeyed her the way they should.

She realized she was clutching the plate in front of her with both hands, holding it like a shield.

“Now,” Von Ridden said, “let’s talk about what happened there. As I said, thorns channel and direct magical energies. It’s like the way a magnifying glass focuses sunlight. A thorn focuses magic, molds it to a purpose, and points it where it needs to go.  Tangles, on the other hand, attract magic. Think of them as a—I don’t know—magnet. A tangle constantly pulls energy to itself and holds it there. The energy can be used for many things. For instance, consider a tangle built into a wall. It could be designed to release some ill-effect on anyone who comes too close to it. But one of the most common purposes of a tangle is to stop a thorn.”

He held up a finger and wagged it in the air. “Now, the key thing to understand here is tangles are much more effective when they’re designed to block a particular method of channeling magic. If a tanglesman is able to study a thorn, he will likely be able to design a tangle which can stop it flat. A more generalized tangle could protect against a wider range of thorns, but it would be less effective against each of them.

“And herein lies the central conflict between those who create thorns and those who create tangles. The thornsmen are constantly trying to find new and innovative methods for channeling magic, and tanglesmen are constantly trying to anticipate the thornsmen’s methods. Once a thorn becomes too commonplace, there will be a wide variety of readily available tangles able to shut it down.” He gestured to the plate still clenched in Lily’s hands. “That beauty was designed specifically to protect against my cane here. And as you’ve discovered it does a wonderful job.”

“What about Irving Farns?” Lily asked. “They say his tangles were the best.”

Von Ridden nodded. “Oh yes. He was quite revolutionary. Shame what happened to him. The killer still at large and all that.” He shot Lily a smile that made her suspect he might know more about that situation than he was letting on. “When Farns was a young man, he turned the magical world on its head by developing a tangle that reflected a thorn’s magic back at its own user. Very dangerous stuff. From what I’ve seen of his later work, he was more concerned with broadening a tangle’s scope. Making it more and more effective against a wider variety of thorns.”

Lily wondered how this all fit with the tangle Beth Farns had worn around her neck. The one that would disable an opponent before an act of aggression even took place. But she knew better to say anything about that. She made a mental note to have a conversation with Zane about thorns and tangles when this was all over. Why hadn’t he told her any of this?

She forced herself to put the plate down on the shelf where she’d found it. “Thank you. This was very enlightening. But I think I’d better prepare for my test.”

As she turned to go, she heard Von Ridden say, “Just remember what I said. Pass or fail, there is a place for you here.”

Lily pause for just a moment at the top of the staircase. “I’ll pass the exam.”

She found a guard waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. He led her back to her room in the abandoned dungeon. It seemed dim and dirty after being in the heady heights of the castle proper.

Zane was waiting for her in her room. He was sharpening his sword again, a blank look on his face.

To Zane’s credit, he didn’t ask her how her talk with Von Ridden went or how she’d answered his offer. Instead he said, “We leave in an hour. Anything I can do to help you prepare? You want to spar?”

“There is something,” she said. “Tell me why you hate Jacob Von Ridden.”

After a long pause, he said, “All right.”

And he did.

CHAPTER SEVEN

My abditus mentor was named Rebecca Waters. I think maybe you knew that from the records you saw. Her specialty was thorns. You might know that, too, but what you don’t likely know is the type of thorns she created. Her thorns were concealable. She made them to fit easily into pockets, up sleeves, sometimes even into the toes of boots. According to Rebecca, she designed them that way so they could be used for self-defense without calling attention to themselves. A cynic might say they were designed for more nefarious purposes. And, indeed, a cynic would be correct. I’ve seen more than a few of our fellow ferox wielding thorns designed by Rebecca Waters.

Designing such small thorns was time-consuming work that required a steady hand and more than a little patience. Rebecca was a harsh mentor. She never had an ear for an excuse or patience for a missed deadline. That didn’t bother me. I was a hard worker, if you’ll excuse the immodesty. I wasn’t the type of child who shrank from teachers with a firm hand. Indeed, it only motivated me to work harder. When a teacher praised me, I wanted to know I’d earned it, not that it was the type of feigned praise they handed out to all students just for showing up.

But Rebecca Waters was different, and her admonitions bothered me. She wasn’t just holding me to some lofty ideal standard. She insisted on comparing me to her former apprentice, Jacob Von Ridden. And when compared with Jacob, I always came up lacking in her eyes. If I mastered a technique in two weeks, Jacob had mastered it in one. And, if by some miracle I did manage to learn something in a shorter time than my predecessor, clearly I was rushing and I didn’t take the necessary time to learn the nuances of the craft. It was maddening.

You must believe me, Lily, when I say I’m not one to cry unfairness when I don’t get my way. I was comfortable with not being the most clever person in the Academy and I was fine not living up to my mentor’s expectations. It was just that she held me to this unattainable standard of Jacob Von Ridden.

Finally, despairing for my future, Ms. Waters set up a time for me to visit Jacob in his freshly opened workshop. She was hoping he would set me straight, I think. Or that a little of his competence would rub off on me. Whatever the reason, the day came, and when I visited him I was shocked to discover I genuinely liked him. And he seemed to like me. We became friends, after a fashion, and I would often consult with him when I needed help with my studies. He even sought my opinion a time or two.

The closer I became with Jacob, the more two things about him disturbed me. First, he seemed to be making more money than a first-year abditus had any right to be making. In the third month I knew him, he relocated  from his small workshop to another in the most expensive section of town. He started wearing finely tailored clothing and jewelry that was a bit gaudy for my tastes, but undoubtedly expensive. Now, there was a possible explanation for all this. Jacob didn’t specialize in thorns or tangles; he specialized in shimmers. And a shimmerman who catered to the rich could do quite well. After all, no one is vainer than the rich, and they never stop wanting to alter their appearances to fit the latest trends.

The second thing that gave me pause was that, despite our friendship, Jacob never discussed the specifics of his work with me. When he asked for my feedback, he spoke in generalities. I saw clients come and go, but he never did any business in my presence. He was extremely secretive, and I knew he only took clients by referral. Again, hardly a standard practice for a first-year abditus.

Lily, it’s possible I had some ferox in my blood even back then, because rather than asking Jacob about it, or even asking Ms. Waters what she knew about his business, I decided to investigate.

I snuck into his workshop one night after he’d left, and I went into the back room, the one he’d never allowed me in. And what I found was…odd. There were dozens of devices, but, from what I could tell with my limited knowledge of shimmers, they all seemed to do the same thing. I took one of the smaller objects, a pendant necklace.

It took months of study to figure out what function the device performed, but when I did, I was shocked. Jacob had taken the principles Rebecca Waters developed to create tiny, ultra-focused thorns, and applied them to shimmers. But while Ms. Waters’ thorns were razor-sharp weapons of deadly precision, Jacob’s shimmers were more like battering rams. He’d figured out a way to make the shimmers change what people felt rather than what they saw. And the effect wasn’t subtle. Jacob’s shimmers could convince a woman she was deeply in love with a man. They could convince a servant he loved his cruel master.

Can you imagine the possibilities, Lily? The longer I thought about it, the more horrified I became. Imagine the great and terrible things that could be done if you could reliably control the feelings of those around you? And then I thought of Ms. Waters and her almost reverent respect for her former apprentice. I began to question everything, my own feelings notwithstanding. When you can’t trust your own feelings, what can you trust?

After much research, I realized Jacob’s invention was a completely new class of shimmer. There had never been anything like it. And there was a rule for new devices, one Jacob hadn’t followed.

I took the device I’d stolen to the local Abditus Hall. Then I walked to the Ferox Hall and asked to change my allegiance. They checked my test scores and then allowed it. I knew I couldn’t be part of the Abditus Society after what I’d learned. The things they created…the things Jacob created. And, worst of all, they were putting them only in the hands of only the rich. What kind of a world is it when the rich alone have access to that kind of power?

The Abditus Society slapped Jacob on the wrist for not sharing his discovery with the Society. In the end, the Society declared Jacob’s shimmers restricted, which meant he could no longer sell them and that they would be studied by the Society for educational purposes only. But it hadn’t been illegal to make them. If anything, the incident raised Jacob’s standing in the Society.

So perhaps now you understand my concern when I learned this man is now the King’s Shadow. This man who can manipulate the feelings of those around him. It’s possible Jacob got his current position through normal means. And it’s also possible he used his old shimmers to change the king’s opinion of him.

Guard your feelings around Jacob, Lily, and know that the things you feel may not be your own.

***

They sat in silence for a long while before Lily spoke.

Finally, she said, “Let me ask you a question. You say you left the Abditus Society because of the things they created and because they offered them only to those rich enough to afford them. But then you joined the Ferox Society. And you kill only for people rich enough to afford it. Doesn’t that seem a little, I don’t know, hypocritical?”

Zane couldn’t help but smile. “Ah. I see your point.” He rubbed his chin for a moment before continuing. “Imagine for a moment one of Jacob’s devices. An object with the power to take away free will. To take away the very thing that makes us human. That’s some weapon, yes?”

Lily nodded. “Of course.”

“Once Jacob sells it, he has zero control over what is done with it. Maybe the customer only uses it to enhance a business dealing here and there. Maybe he uses it to get a beautiful woman to think she loves him. Maybe he uses it to start a war. Whatever happens, it’s out of Jacob’s control.”

Zane leaned forward and raised a finger in the air. “Now, consider what I do. I’m a weapon for the rich, yes. But I’m the weapon. I control how I’m used. I accept and turn down jobs. It’s always me. And when I die, the weapon dies with me. That’s what I couldn’t accept about being an abditus. You have no control over how your creations are used. They could change the world, and you’d have no way to stop it.”

Lily drummed her fingers together. “I can’t figure out if that’s rationalization or the best argument I’ve ever heard against being an abditus.”

“That’s good,” Zane said. “You’re lack of conviction means you’re not yet compromised.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Yet?”

“We all get compromised, to some extent.”

After a moment, she said, “Let me ask you another question. When you sparred, why’d you let Faraday beat you?”

Zane smiled. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but he’s fairly proficient with a blade. I didn’t exactly have to throw the match.”

“But you didn’t show him the full extent of your abilities.”

He paused, pleased at her ability to see through his attempt at deception. “It’s never a good idea to show an opponent the extent of your abilities before you absolutely have to.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “And that’s what Faraday is? Your opponent?”

“That remains to be seen.”  He stood up and turned to go. “I’ll leave you to collect your thoughts. In a few short hours, we’ll know if you’ll ever be a ferox.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

As they approached the Ferox Society Great Hall, Lily was surprised to find her heart beating faster and her palms sweating. The confidence she’d shown Von Ridden hadn’t been bravado. She really was that sure of her success. Or so she’d thought at the time. Now she wasn’t so sure.

She walked exactly one-half step behind Zane, just as he’d instructed her. She wore a simple, formless black dress that flowed with her and wouldn’t hinder her movements. It was designed not to draw attention. Zane, on the other hand, was dressed in the finest clothes. The king’s tailor had dropped them off that morning and Lily was unclear on whether Zane was expected to return them when this was over. The suit was the height of fashion, complete with a waistcoat that nearly touched the floor in the back, almost forming a cape. She would have thought Zane would look silly in such fashionable clothing, but she had to admit he was pulling it off.

Faraday and Von Ridden weren’t with them. They were apparently meeting Zane elsewhere. Lily wasn’t privy to the details of the job, which annoyed her despite the logic of the plan. Zane said he wanted her focusing on the exam, not wondering how the plan was going step by step. The unspoken other reason was if things went wrong and Lily ended up being interrogated, the less she knew the better.

Zane gave her a look and tiny smile as he pulled open the Great Hall door. Lily took a deep breath and followed him inside.

The air was a few degrees cooler inside the building, which at least provided Lily with a good excuse as to why her arms were suddenly covered in goosebumps. The lobby was quieter than the last time she’d been here. Then, there’d been ferox milling about and chatting. Today, there was only that strange young man behind the tiny desk in the middle of the room, and a short, broad man in a long charcoal-colored cloak standing next to him. The cloaked man had his hands folded in front of him, and he watched Lily enter with a feigned disinterest.

This, Lily knew, must be her proctor.

The man behind the desk nodded politely at Zane as he approached. He didn’t acknowledge Lily. “Ferox Halloway, welcome.”

Zane returned the nod and replied with a simple, “Brother Ferox.”

The cloaked man, on the other hand, paid no attention to Zane. His gaze was fixed on Lily. He gave her an appraising look up and down.

“I’ll be your proctor for the exam,” he said.

Lily waited for him to give his name, but he didn’t.

The young man behind the desk said, “Ferox Halloway, it’s customary for the mentor to have a drink with the head of the society while the apprentice tests.”

Zane’s lips curled up in a smile. “This isn’t my first placement exam. I’ve had other apprentices.”

The young man’s face reddened. “Of course. Apologies. You may proceed up to Ferox Danum’s study. Do you require an escort?”

“No,” Zane said. He turned to Lily and hesitated, like he wasn’t sure what to say. For a moment, Lily thought Zane was going to hug her. Instead, he said, “You’re ready. You haven’t had a long time to prepare, but you’ve made good use of the time you’ve had. I’ve taught you many things. Remember the important things—the most important thing—I’ve told you many times. Understand?”

She wasn’t sure she did, but she nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She was certain her voice would quiver, and she didn’t want that to happen in front of her proctor and the smug young man behind the desk.

Zane met her eyes one more time, then turned and walked away.

For the first time, the proctor looked at Zane. When her mentor had disappeared down a corridor at the end of the room, the proctor turned to Lily. “The first thing you have to understand is that it’s your decision when you take the exam. It’s not too late to reschedule.”

Lily took a slow breath to calm her nerves before speaking. “No. I’m ready.”

He nodded toward the corridor where Zane had disappeared. “It’s not his decision. You’re entitled to years of additional study. Even if you do pass, you’ll be starting your career with far less experience than your peers. If he’s pressuring you in any way, we can reschedule and find you a new mentor. One who takes the process more seriously.”

She steeled herself and met his gaze. “I said I’m ready.”

His face hardened. “Then follow me.”

He led her to a small room furnished with only a wooden table and chair. There was a glass of water on the table. He motioned to the chair. “Sit.”

She did. Her heart was racing now, and she cursed herself. She never got nervous during tests. She’d been one of the few who hadn’t thrown up before taking her Tens. But this test…

Von Ridden’s words came back to her. This was a test designed to defeat people who were good at tests.

The proctor nodded toward the glass of water. “Drink.”

She reached out with a shaky hand and grabbed the glass. It was cold against her skin.

“The test doesn’t begin until you drink,” the proctor said.

She nodded and, before she could reconsider, gulped the water down in one long drink.

“Good,” the proctor said. “When you next open your eyes, the test will already be in progress. You have two hours from the time you wake.”

Lily had a moment to wonder what drug they’d used in the water. Savven herb? No, this was acting on her far faster. Her limbs were already heavy and it was more difficult to open her eyes after each blink. Impressive stuff.

With that thought, she drifted into a deep sleep.

***

Lily woke with a start and with the sudden realization something was terribly wrong. Her hands were tied behind her, and her head was cloudy. It took her a moment before she remembered. The placement exam.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing down the panic and fighting the urge look around at her surroundings. Not yet. This test would determine her future, and it was already underway. There was no room for fear. No one believed she’d pass this test, and if she wasn’t at her best, they would be right.

She took a moment and focused on her breathing, trying to block out all the sensations (coarse rope rubbing against the raw skin of her wrists, her shoulders straining from the way her arms were secured behind her), the sounds (was that dripping water?), and the smells (musty—yes, that must be water she heard). It was difficult, but one-by-one she shut out the stimuli assaulting her senses until there was only her breathing.

Then, slowly, she opened her eyes.

The room was not what she’d expected. Not at all. She’d imagined the test would take place in a large pristine space where she would have to fight off a group of attackers while some old men watched and graded her technique. This was not that.

The room was small and dim. The walls were made of rough-hewn stone and they were damp with moisture. The floor was hard dirt. It reminded her more of her parents’ cellar than something she’d expect to find in the Ferox Great Hall.

But there was a comfort in it. She was not a woman made for fine places and expensive things. She’d dug in the dirt and shoveled manure from the time she could walk. This was her kind of place.

And suddenly the nerves were gone. If they thought they could intimidate her by tying her up and throwing her in a dank basement, they didn’t know Lily Rhodes.

The ropes were tighter than the ones Von Ridden had tied the day before. She inched her hands up and breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the sticky texture at the small of her back. Von Ridden had secured the small hooked blade there with a special gum dyed to exactly match her skin color. If they’d searched her, they’d missed it.

It took her two minutes of picking at the spot to pry the hooked blade free and another three minutes of sawing at the rope before she was able to cut through it. With her hands free, she was able to escape the rope binding her ankles much more quickly. She wedged the blade into her waistband and began inspecting the room.

It quickly became apparent that she hadn’t finished her escape. This small cellar had no exit. There were long thin slits near the ceiling that let in a bit of light. If she couldn’t figure out anything else, she could climb the ten feet or so to the slits and try to dig her way out by widening the gap. She could use the hooked blade. But time was a factor here. She probably had only one hundred and ten minutes left to complete this thing.

She had to make a decision: start working on the slits immediately or find another way. After a moment’s thought, the choice was clear. They wouldn’t expect her to have the blade, so expecting a student to dig her way out was a stretch. No, there was something else here, something she was missing. This wasn’t part of the escape; it was part of the deductive reasoning portion of the exam. It was a puzzle.

Lily walked the perimeter of the room, not rushing, taking in every inch. She was looking for some sort of irregularity. But it wouldn’t be obvious, not in this exam. These stone blocks bulged randomly, so maybe what she was looking for was not an irregularity, but a pattern. Humans created patterns, even when they didn’t mean to.

A few paces later, she saw it.  A stone exactly like the one next to it. A pattern in this wall of chaos. She dropped into a squat and ran her hands across the stones. There was something on the stone to her left. A slight indentation. She pressed on it and felt a click.

And the wall moved ever-so-slightly inward.

She sprang to her feet and pushed on the wall, and, to her relief, it moved inward. It seemed to be mounted on some type of wheels. When it was wide enough for her to pass, she stepped through. There was a short staircase leading up, and she followed it.

She crouched in the shadows at the top of the steps and looked out at a courtyard surrounded on all sides by towering stone walls. Was this an open space inside the Ferox Great Hall? Had they designed the building with a courtyard in the center? It was difficult to tell from this angle, but those stone walls appeared to be roughly the same height as the Great Hall.

The courtyard was a stark contrast to the cellar she’d just escaped. This place was all sunlight, manicured grass, and the smell of spring.

On the other side of the courtyard, directly across from her, was an open doorway shrouded in shadows. And in the middle of the courtyard, between her and the doorways, stood four ferox.

They were all dressed in black, the traditional garb ferox had been required to wear a century ago. They all held swords, and they stood back to back, one facing each of the four walls, their faces blank and their eyes able to see every inch of the courtyard.

Lily didn’t need a proctor to tell her what was required of her in this portion of the exam. She needed to get past the ferox and through the door on the other side.

There were two options: open battle or try to sneak past them. Zane had often accused Lily of being overly confident when it came to her fighting skills, but she wasn’t stupid. There was no way she could defeat four ferox herself.

On the other hand, sneaking past them through an open courtyard in broad daylight didn’t seem within the realm of possibility either.

She sat crouched in the stairway for a full five minutes before she finally saw her way through. The sun was in the southeast, so the south and east walls provided a nice shadow. There was a small ledge that ran along the courtyard wall ten feet up. If she could get to it and make her way along the south and east walls, she might have a chance. They weren’t exactly covered in darkness, but there was a thin shadow she might be able to squeeze into. If she could do that, she’d only be exposed as she made her way to the exit along the northern wall.

The walls in the stairwell were narrow, and she was able to brace herself with her left arm and leg against one wall and her right arm and leg against the other. She slowly crawled her way to the ceiling, inching one arm up the wall, then the opposite leg, then the opposite arm, and so on. She flattened herself against the ceiling of the stairwell, still holding herself up with an arm and a leg against each wall, and worked her way to the opening out onto the courtyard. Her arms were shaking by the time she reached it.

This would be the moment when they’d be most likely to see her, because she’d have to move fast, and the human eye is very good at detecting movement against a backdrop of stillness. She hoped there’d be enough shadows to cover her passage.

She took a deep breath and reached through the doorway with one hand. She felt around for a panicky moment, then her figures closed on the ledge. Without stopping to think, she reached through with her other hand, grabbed the ledge, and pulled her body through. In one fluid motion, she was in the courtyard, hanging from the ledge, and altogether too exposed. She put her feet on the wall next to the doorway she’d passed through, found footholds, and scurried up to the ledge. When she was up, she pressed her back against the wall and did her best to huddle in the scant shadow there.

She watched the ferox in the center of the courtyard for a long while until she was almost sure they hadn’t seen her. Then she started moving. The cover provided by the shadows wouldn’t be enough for most people, even most ferox apprentices, but stealth had always been one of Lily’s strong suits. She glided along the ledge, wearing the shadows like a cloak. She moved quickly and confidently, even through the gaps in the shadows on the north wall, and the four ferox in the center of the courtyard never spotted her. When she reached the other side, she crouched down, grabbed the ledge, and used it to swing through the doorway, landing softly in the much more accommodating darkness lingering there.

Without looking back, she walked through a short passageway and into a second, smaller courtyard.

Directly in front of Lily, there was a tall archway. A brick path led through it. Finally, she thought, something easy.

She started toward it, then stopped. This was her placement exam. Why would anything be easy?

She scanned the walls on either side of her with a more critical eye, and she saw something. A strange curved brick built into one wall. A curved she recognized. It was a tangle.

Zane had taught her to spot tangles long ago. They could be made from a variety of materials and disguised as almost anything, but all tangles would have a distinctive curve somewhere on them. Lily didn’t pretend to understand exactly way, but it fit with what Von Ridden had told her. He’d said all tangles gather magic and hold it to themselves. Maybe the curve at an exact angle was part of what made it work the way it did.

She realized there wasn’t just one tangle in the wall to her left. There were dozens. Maybe hundreds. The wall was lined with them. They were spaced at odd intervals along the stone.

Lily let her gaze drift slowly up the wall all the way to the top. That was a long way. Longer than she’d ever climbed. So, of course, she knew that was the way she was meant to go.

The climb might have taken her ten minutes; it might have taken her forty. It required her perfect concentration. Finding each new handhold and foothold was a challenge. It was as if the walls had been specifically designed to be climbable, but only barely. Then there were the tangles. They were everywhere. And often they were hidden from view by carefully placed protrusions in the stone.

Lily had to move slowly and carefully, never placing a hand or foot without carefully inspecting the spot and making sure there was no danger.

Finally, she pulled herself over the side and onto the roof of the building. She allowed herself to lie there for a moment. While climbing, she’d been unaware of anything but the task at hand, but now she realized she was dripping with sweat and her arms and legs felt like they’d turned to water.

A moment later, she noticed the man standing across the roof. He was tall and built as solidly as the stone wall she’d just climbed. Even at this distance, she could see he wore his hair in the distinctive style of a Cragsman, shaved bald but for a small knot on the top of his head. He stood frozen, his gaze fixed on her.

She’d never met a Cragsman before. The stories she’d heard were likely wildly exaggerated. Supposedly, they were a people trained for combat from the time they could walk. They didn’t know their parents. The children were taken from their mothers at birth and raised as a pack. Theirs was a culture where the one who ruled was the one who could fight the best. All was decided through combat.

Lily had just enough time for these thoughts to pass through her mind before the man began sprinting toward her. He was halfway across the roof before Lily responded. She rolled to her feet and took an easy defensive stance. She had to stay loose in this fight. This man was certainly much stronger than her, and she wasn’t sure she had much of a speed advantage, either. The big boy could move. He lunged, both arms extended like he was trying to tackle her.

She was surprised by the clumsiness of the attack. She stepped to her right and pulled back her fist, intending to drive it into his nose. But before she could, the man did a seemingly inhuman pivot and grabbed her leg. He gave her leg a sharp twist, and she hit the stone surface of the roof, protecting her face with her hands.

To Lily’s surprise, he then let go of her and stood up. She rolled quickly away from him and hopped to her feet, ignoring the burning pain in her hands.

The man grinned at her and lunged again. She tried to swivel out of his reach, but he was too fast. He wrapped one arm around her neck and used the other to deliver a punishing series of lightning-quick kidney punches.

He wasn’t trying to kill her, Lily realized. He was trying to hurt her. To see how much pain she could take. And that was a question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. She needed to end this quickly.

She was thinking too much. She’d assumed he was slow because of his size. She’d assumed he was dumb. She’d been wrong on both counts. He was out-thinking her and out-maneuvering her. This was not a time for a well-conceived plan. This was a time to release the fury she usually kept buried inside. She’d have to hope her training did the rest.

She threw her head back as hard as she could and felt it connect. She didn’t hear the crunch she’d been hoping for; she’d missed his nose and connected with his cheekbone. But it was enough. He cried out and loosened his grip.

She slipped out of his grasp and spun, delivering a mean left hook to the same cheekbone she’d hit with her head. She threw a jab. Then another. Then another. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, not really, but it was enough to keep him off balance.

Suddenly her left knee exploded with pain, and she realized he’d kicked her. Her mind was on fire with agony, but still the thought remained: How had he moved so fast?

She needed to end this now.

She crumpled to her knees, just as he’d expect her to, and as she fell, she got her bearings. They were only a few feet from the edge of the roof. And, on the edge, she saw a spot that curved in a particular manner. She knew what that spot was, though she didn’t know exactly what it would do.

As soon as her hand touched the stone surface of the roof, she sprang upward. The big man took a step back, expecting an uppercut. Instead, she hooked her arm around his neck, much the same as he’d done to her, and used his backward momentum against him, twisting him so he fell.

As they tumbled, she kept twisting, angling him under her. At the moment they landed, just as the impact rocked him, Lily slammed his face against the tangle hidden on the edge of the roof.

She felt heat coming from the tangle under the Cragsman’s head.

He howled in pain.

Lily jumped back preparing for her next attack, but the attack never came. The man clutched the left side of his face, the side that had touched the tangle. Through the gaps between his fingers, Lily could see black, charred skin, as if it had been burned in a fire.

He screamed again.

From behind Lily, a man said, “I must admit, I am impressed.”

Lily spun, and she saw the exam proctor, his charcoal colored cloak swaying gently in the breeze. She wondered how long he’d been standing there. She raised her fists, preparing for his attack.

“I’m not here to fight you,” the proctor said. “You’ve proven yourself in that regard.”

The big man wailed in pain, and the proctor looked at him sharply.

“Cline, that’s enough!” the proctor said.

Cline’s wail turned to a whimper.

The proctor turned his gaze back to Lily. “You proved yourself capable of escaping the ropes. Albeit with the help of a sharp tool of some sort.” She started to speak, but he held up a hand. “You got it past me, so that won’t be held against you. You found the hidden door in the cellar. You made it past four ferox undetected. You proved your knowledge that the easiest path isn’t the best. You climbed, avoiding tangles. And you defeated a Cragsman in combat.”

Lily rubbed a hand over her kidney. God, did she hurt. “The way I understand it, their position in society is based on their fighting ability. So if he’s a servant of a foreign Ferox Society, I’m guessing he’s not exactly the toughest Cragsman out there.”

The proctor nodded his agreement. “Even still, not many could do what you did. You’ve proven yourself.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed. She sensed something else coming. “So I pass?”

“Not yet.” The proctor reached into his cloak and pulled out a long dagger. He tossed it, and it landed at her feet. “One more task remains. You need to show you are able to end a life.”

She turned and looked at the Cragsman, on his knees and clutching his face.

“Do it,” the proctor said, “and this is over. Take the dagger and kill him. It’s what you’re trained to do. Now show me you can do it.”

She bent down and picked up the dagger with a shaky hand. Long ago, when she’d first entered the Ferox Academy, she’d wrestled with the question of whether she could take a life. She’d decided she could. Now she needed to prove it.

She took a step toward the Cragsman, then paused. He looked so pathetic crouching there. She was shocked to find herself feeling empathy, and she struggled to push the feeling down.

She thought of those kidney punches. Of the way he’d driven her face-first into the stone, of the way he’d gone for her knee. But still she hesitated.

“A bit of advice, Ms. Rhodes,” the proctor said. “The ferox who hesitates misses her opportunity. Didn’t Zane ever tell you that?”

Yes, Zane had told her. That and so much else.

She suddenly remembered his words to her just before the exam. Remember the important things—the most important thing—I’ve told you many times. Understand?

He had been trying to tell her something specific. But what?

She looked at the dagger in her hand and suddenly she knew.

She let the blade fall to the ground, and she turned to the proctor. “No. I won’t kill him.”

The proctor’s face was stone. “And why not?”

She remembered the most important thing, the thing Zane had told her again and again: Never kill for free.

“Because you’re not paying me,” Lily said.

The proctor smiled. “Welcome, Sister Ferox.”

CHAPTER NINE

Zane walked casually up the spiraling staircase, acutely aware of his surroundings. When he reached the fifth-floor landing, he stopped, closed his eyes and listened. Hearing nothing and feeling no vibrations in the banister, he opened his eyes. There was no one else on the staircase. Or, if there was, they weren’t moving.

He unlocked the window and eased it open. He leaned out and looked down. He couldn’t see Faraday and Von Ridden standing on the ground below, but he knew they were there. Von Ridden must have been using a shimmer to hide them.

Still, they would have to be fast. Jacob had assured Zane they would be.

Zane gave them a quick nod to signal the way was clear. And suddenly Zane could see them.

Von Ridden reached out and touched Faraday’s arm. The two of them shot into the air as if fired from a crossbow. Zane felt the breath catch in his throat. All the glides he had ever seen had provided a gentle rise. This was something else entirely. It made Zane wonder what other surprises Jacob may have brought with him. It also made him a bit concerned for his plan.

Zane took a step back. Faraday and Jacob stopped the instant they reached the height of the window and hovered there. Faraday’s face was pale and his eyes were wide. Zane didn’t blame him.

Jacob waved toward the window, an easy, magnanimous smile on his face, motioning for Faraday to go first. The King’s Sword put a shaky hand on the window frame and pulled himself through.

“That was effective,” he said in a gruff voice.

Jacob quickly followed him through the window and latched it behind them. “Indeed.” He looked at Zane. “Any surprises?”

“Not so far,” Zane said.  There would be a surprise coming shortly, but Zane wouldn’t be the one surprised.

He led them up the steps toward Danum’s study. As they walked, Jacob asked, “How do you think your girl is doing? She seemed confident.”

Zane answered without turning back toward him. “Ideally, I wouldn’t have pressed her to take the exam for at least another year. But she has a decent chance.”

After a few moments, Jacob said, “I’m curious what you told her about me.”

“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Zane said.

“Ah, but not the whole truth, I’ll bet. You didn’t tell her about the months you spent working for me behind your mentor’s back. Or about the job we did down at the docks. Or about what really happened the night you resigned your abditus apprenticeship. Tell me I’m wrong.”

No, he hadn’t told Lily those things. But he promised himself he would if he made it through this. Someday.

“Danum’s office is up ahead,” Zane said. “You’ll want to keep your voices down.”

“I’m masking our voices. I’ll make Faraday and myself invisible, too.”

When they reached the top of the stairs, Zane glanced at Faraday. The Sword hadn’t said a word since coming through the window. Zane wondered what the man really thought of Jacob. He seemed indifferent toward him. At least Faraday wasn’t fawning over Jacob like he would be if he’d been shimmered. That was something.

Jacob and Faraday both blinked out of sight as Jacob activated his shimmer.

A single guard stood outside Danum’s study. He must have been expecting Zane, and he nodded toward him in greeting. Zane nodded back, trying hard not to think about the two men behind him.

The guard opened the door, and Zane paused, giving Jacob and Faraday time to enter the room. He then followed them in, nodding again to the mildly confused guard, who shut the door once Zane was through.

Charles Danum sat behind his desk. A bottle and two empty glasses rested on the desk in front of him. A wide smile broke out on his face as Zane entered.

“Ah, there you are!” he said. “Drink?”

Zane hesitated.

Danum waved a hand at him disgustedly. “Come on! If not now, when? It’s not every day your apprentice takes her exam.” Without waiting for a reply, he poured two fingers of dark liquor into each of glass. “I thought we might discuss this Jacob Von Ridden situation while we waited for Lily’s results.”

Zane slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket. “Yes. About that.” He activated the thorn in his pocket, and Von Ridden and Faraday, suddenly visible, collapsed onto the floor like sacks of meat.

Danum jumped to his feet. “Good Lord! Isn’t that the King’s Sword and Shadow?”

“Yes,” Zane said, willing the patience into his voice.

“My God, man, what are they doing here?”

“They’re here to kill you,” Zane said. “As am I.” He held up a hand before Danum could respond. “Those were our orders from the king. I had another idea.”

Von Ridden and Faraday squirmed on the floor, making odd jerky movements with their hands and legs. A strange croaking moan came from Faraday, but Jacob was silent.

“What the hell did you do to them?” Danum asked.

“I’ve taken away their senses. They can’t see, hear, taste, smell, or feel anything. Can’t even sense their own bodies, hence their odd mannerisms at the moment. They can still speak, technically, but I imagine that’s challenging when you can’t feel your tongue or lips.” He took the small metal thorn out of his pocket and held it up for Danum to see. “I’m going to give Jacob back his senses now.”

Danum started to protest, but it was too late.

Jacob’s eyes suddenly focused, and he struggled to his hands and knees. He looked at Zane with fury in his eyes. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, but when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly even. “Well, that was interesting. Care to explain?”

Zane held out the thorn so Jacob could see Farns’ marking on it.

“Irving Farns could take away the senses one at a time,” Zane said. “I’m not quite as deft a hand. It’s kind of an all or nothing deal. So let’s behave.”

Jacob struggled to his feet. “So that display was, what, to frighten me?”

“I needed to have a conversation with the two of you. And I needed you to know I can incapacitate you at any time.” He glanced at Danum. “That goes for you, too. Each of you wants the other dead. I’d like to propose a third solution. I’d like to propose that no one dies today.”

Jacob nodded toward Faraday, who was still wriggling on the floor and making soft, guttural sounds. “What about him?”

Zane said, “We don’t need him for this discussion.” He looked back and forth between the two men standing with him. “Danum, the king wants you dead. He thinks it will appease Tavel. They’re a little angry about that ferox they captured working in their nation.”

“They haven’t captured one,” Danum said. “They’ve captured three.”

Zane glanced at Jacob. “Is that true?”

Jacob nodded curtly.

Zane grunted. More lies. He continued, “Jacob, Danum wants you dead because he believes you’re influencing the king’s views on the Ferox Society, and to send the king a message. The problem is you’re both forgetting one thing.”

He waited a moment to see if either of them would say it. They didn’t, so he continued.

“You’re forgetting the ferox, sorry, three ferox rotting in a Tavel prison waiting for their public torture and executions.”

Danum’s eyes went wide. “I don’t see how I can be expected—”

Zane slammed his hand down on the oak surface of the desk. “Charles, you’re the head of the damn Ferox Society. If you don’t save them, who will?”

Danum looked away, abashed.

Zane looked at Jacob.

For the first time since he’d regained his faculties, Von Ridden gave a weak smile. “You do know we can’t go back to the king and tell him we failed. It will not end well. For any of us, but for you especially.”

Zane grimaced at Jacob. He wanted to say he knew this wasn’t going to end well for him either way, but he didn’t. He still needed to sell Jacob on his idea.

“Here’s what I’m proposing,” he said. “We go back the king and tell him we killed Danum.” He turned to Danum. “You meet with three of your most trusted advisors, no more. Tell them what’s happening. Even name your replacement if you want.”

Danum’s face grew red. “My replacement? What the hell are you talking about?”

Zane put a hand on the man’s arm. “Charles, the king needs you dead to avoid a war. If it’s not us tonight, it’ll be someone else tomorrow. Or the night after. I’m sorry, but your life is over. We need to work on getting you a new one. That’s where he comes in.” He pointed at Jacob.

Jacob’s eyes widened and his smiled broadened. “Is that so?”

“Listen,” Zane continued, “you said you could get a ship for me. Make me disappear. I assume you can do the same for Danum?”

“Theoretically,” Jacob said.

“Good. Get the ship and have it take Danum to Tavel.” He turned to Danum. “Take a couple ferox with you if you need to, but no one who will be missed. You used to be the best at this sort of thing. Can you be again?”

Danum looked at Zane for a long moment before speaking. “You want me to rescue the prisoners.”

Zane nodded. “When you get to Tavel, you’ll need to procure three fresh bodies. Then break into the prison, rescue the prisoners, and leave the bodies in their place. Jacob will give you a shimmer that’ll make the authorities think the bodies are the ferox they captured and another to make it look like they killed themselves. That’ll be enough for the Tavel authorities to think the ferox carried out some sort of suicide pact. Can you provide the shimmers, Jacob?”

“Again, theoretically.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I don’t mean to be crass, but I’m still waiting to hear how letting Ferox Danum live benefits me?”

“Simple,” Zane said. “It gives you power. You’ll know something the king doesn’t.”

“I know many things the king doesn’t,” Von Ridden said.

Zane paused, then tried again. “They’d be a secret sect of ferox, led by one of the best in modern history, operating on foreign soil and reporting back to you alone. If that’s not power—”

Something grabbed at Zane’s hand, snatching away the thorn he was holding.

Faraday dropped the thorn to the ground and, with a howl, raised his sword and brought it down, slamming the hilt into the thorn and smashing it into a hundred tiny pieces.

He spun toward Zane and shifted the sword to a two hand grip. His eyes burned with fury.

Jacob Von Ridden sighed. “I was afraid this might happen.”

***

Faraday turned, looking back and forth between Jacob and Zane. In another circumstance, Zane might have found it humorous the way his head pivoted between his two supposed allies.

“You were afraid this might happen?” Faraday asked. “What are you talking about?”

“I was referring to you recovering from the effects of Zane’s thorn.” Jacob turned to Zane. “The sword—the actual weapon, not the man—has a tangle built into it near the pommel. See the curve of it? It’s a bit more generalized than I normally like to use, but it’s powerful. Even works against a Farns thorn after a few minutes, apparently.” He scratched at his chin. “I accept your proposal by the way.”

Zane nodded quickly. Good. One obstacle cleared. He casually put his hand on his sword hilt and turned to Faraday. “Listen, I’m sorry about using the thorn on you, but there’s something we have to discuss. Killing Danum doesn’t solve—”

“Save your breath,” Jacob said. “He’s a king’s man through and through. You’re going to have to kill him.”

Faraday’s head was pivoting wildly back and forth again. “What is going on?”

“Jacob, we’re not doing that,” Zane said. “Faraday, please, there might be a better way to carry out the king’s wishes than by following the letter of his orders.”

Faraday’s face darkened. “I’ve heard that before. You know who says it? Traitors. Always traitors. I came here to do a job.” He lunged toward Danum, sword outstretched.

The clang of steel-on-steel rang out as Zane deflected the blow.

Faraday’s eyes widened once again.

“Faraday, listen to me. I don’t want to fight you.”

Faraday grinned and Zane saw bloodlust in those eyes. “Traitor.”

Zane glanced at Von Ridden. “Care to help?”

“I really don’t,” Jacob said. “Let’s hope you were holding back yesterday.”

As if on cue, Faraday attacked.

For a moment, Zane thought he’d lost the fight before it had properly begun. He’d been unfocused and distracted by Jacob. He hadn’t anticipated Faraday’s attack, and he barely brought his sword up fast enough to deflect the blow. Faraday pressed the advantage, each strike designed to expose him in a new way, and the series of strikes designed to force an opening through which Faraday could stab him.

There was no banter as they fought. Faraday was too professional for such things, and Zane was too focused on prolonging his life for at least a few more parries.

Faraday was like nothing Zane had ever seen before. If anything, he was moving faster than he had the previous day. His bloodlust was up, and he was holding nothing back. He moved through the forms, the same forms Zane had studied since he was a boy. With the best swordsmen, the forms looked like an elegant dance. But with Faraday it something more. It was like watching a bird in flight. It was so natural. It was as if Faraday’s blade was part of the natural order of the universe.

As he struggled desperately to stay alive, Zane realized something. Faraday had been training with the blade for nearly all his life. He’d probably always been one of the best in his age group, which meant he would have been paired against the best in sparring sessions. Now he mostly fought Swords of other kings, and then only for tournament wins and bragging rights. His opponents were master swordsmen who knew the proper response to every move. Even in his role as the king’s personal representative in combat, he would only face off against the enemy’s elite. The grunts would have been cleared away before Faraday entered a section of the battlefield.

Zane realized Faraday rarely, if ever, fought brawlers.

As Faraday thrust his sword, Zane parried and then lunged toward his opponent, wildly over-committing and throwing himself off balance as he swung. It was a move no trained swordsman would even consider, and Zane saw from the surprise in Faraday’s eyes that this had been the opposite of what he’d been expecting.

Faraday managed to parry Zane’s thrust, but as he did Zane punched him in the nose with his free hand. Zane then took a quick step back and stabbed Faraday in the hand. Faraday’s sword, the Sword’s sword, clattered to the floor.

Zane held his blade to his opponent’s neck. “Now you’ll listen.”

Jacob clucked his tongue. “You’re wasting your time. He has to die.”

Faraday made no effort to move away from Zane’s blade. He knew he was beaten. He breathed heavily and stared daggers at Zane as he awaited his fate.

“Jacob,” Zane said, “isn’t there something else you can do? A way to, I don’t know, change his way of thinking?”

A bemused smile crossed Jacob’s face. “Are you seriously asking me to shimmer this man’s feelings? Because I believe you made your thoughts on that matter clear many years ago.”

“I’m trying to save his life!” Zane barked.

“I’ll go along with your plan,” Jacob said. “But he’s my price. Faraday has to die.”

“I trusted you, Von Ridden.” Faraday spat out the words.

“Von Ridden’s right, Zane,” Danum said. “For your plan to work, Faraday has to die.”

Zane blinked hard. There had to be another way. He certainly wasn’t above killing. But there was something so pure about Faraday. So honorable. He was that rarest of things: a good man. Zane couldn’t allow him to die.

Jacob moved like a snake. He jabbed something toward Faraday’s back three times—thuk, thuk, thuk—and then held up his hand, showing the bloody knife.

Faraday cried out and clutched at Zane’s shirt even as he sank to his knees.

“There,” Jacob said. “Problem solved.”

Zane moved around to see the wounds.  He silently cursed at what he saw. Jacob had known his business. He’d punctured both lungs and stabbed him in the left kidney for good measure. Even if they could get him to a doctor in time, which was doubtful, his chances of surviving were horrendous.

“You going to let him suffer?” Jacob asked.

“No,” Zane answered, and he stabbed Faraday in the chest, finishing the job.

Zane took a deep breath. It was taking everything he had to restrain himself from attacking Von Ridden. They needed him, Zane reminded himself. Even after this, they needed him.

“Let’s not waste time,” Zane said. He was surprised at how indifferent his voice sounded. “Jacob, you work on getting the ship. Charles, you prepare things on your end.”

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Danum gasped. “Good God. What do we do?”

“Answer the door,” Jacob said. And with that, he and Faraday’s body became invisible, along with every drop of blood on the carpet.

“Enter,” Danum said.

The door opened, and the young man from the lobby stepped inside.

“What is it, Francis?” Danum asked.

“You said to let you know as soon as the exam was finished,” the young man answered.

For a moment, Zane had no idea what he was talking about. Then it came back to him. The exam. Lily.

“Did she pass?” Zane asked. He honestly didn’t know what he wanted the answer to be. If she’d failed, she would never be a ferox. After what he’d seen tonight, Zane thought that might be for the best. It was like Jacob had said the day before. Ferox bartered in human death.

The young man smiled widely. “She passed.”

CHAPTER TEN

“This is traditionally the time when the former apprentice tries to kill their mentor,” Zane said. “Have you given it any thought?”

They were in Zane’s study. He had his foot up on a stool and was massaging the sore calf. He’d told Lily it was feeling better, but she wasn’t sure she believed him.

Two weeks had passed since she’d successfully completed her exam. Jacob and Zane had given the king their report about how Faraday had tragically and heroically died to complete the job. Lily had been left out of that discussion, and she couldn’t say she was sorry about it. Zane said the king had cried when he’d heard the news. That was an image Lily didn’t need in her head. The King of Opel crying because of a lie.

The Ferox Society announced Charles Danum had died in his sleep from what were believed to be natural causes, and they were currently going through the process of appointing a new Society head.

Lily and Zane had traveled home, burdened only by the weight of the gold the king had given them. Lily would have to return to the capital city in four weeks’ time to say her vows, officially become a ferox, and receive her placement, the city she’d be assigned to live and work in as a ferox. Only a certain number of ferox operated in each area, so the Society dictated who could open shop where. Until her placement, she was in an in-between stage. She was neither an apprentice nor a full ferox.

She grinned at Zane. “Killing you has crossed my mind. I wouldn’t mind inheriting your clients. It’s just that I’m afraid I’d inherit your enemies, too.”

A shadow crossed his face, and she knew she’d touched a nerve.

“After you make your vows, I’m going to give you some money,” he said. “Enough to set you up. I’ve asked the society to place you somewhere far away from me.”

She was genuinely surprised. “Why?”

“Lily, we’ve entered into a world I’ve spent my career avoiding. We helped fake the death of the head of the Ferox Society, killed one of the king’s most important advisors, and sent ferox to carry out an undercover mission on foreign soil. If you think this is over, if you think there won’t be consequences for all this, I haven’t trained you as well as I thought.”

They sat in silence for a long while.

Finally, Lily said, “Can he do it? Can Danum save the ferox in Tavel?”

Zane rubbed his chin before answering. “He was good once. One of our best. Years of bureaucracy have made him soft, but once he gets out in the field…yes, I believe he can.” With that, he stood up.

“And what about us?” she asked. “When do we start seeing clients? I’m ready for the next job.”

“We already have our next job. And, before you ask, yes. You will be getting paid from now on. Thirty percent.”

For a moment, Lily considered haggling for a bigger cut, but she decided against it. “Who’s the client?”

“Beth Farns. I met with her while we were in the city.” Before Lily could answer, he said, “Enough business for now. I’ll give you the details later. Come.”

“Where are we going?”

Zane smiled. “I thought we might train a little.”

Few things could have made Lily happier than hearing those words, but she couldn’t resist needling him. “I’m not your apprentice anymore. I figured our sparring days were over.”

“I had something slightly different in mind. I’ve been reading about forms designed for two swords. There’s one called the Twin Viper that looks especially promising.”

She tilted her head and smiled. “You’re talking about fighting together. As a coordinated unit.”

Zane nodded. “I have you for four more weeks. Kingdoms have fallen in less time. Perhaps it’s worth being prepared for all eventualities.”

They went to the roof, their usual training place, and picked up their swords.

BOOK THREE: LIGHTNING AND THRONES

THREE WEEKS AGO

Beth Farns spent the two months after her father’s death considering how to carry out her revenge on his killer. Then, one night, the killer showed up in her bedroom.

She opened her eyes, and there he was. He spoke in a soft voice that did nothing to hide the menace. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.”

Implication: I’m not here to hurt you, but I will if I need to.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. She couldn’t make herself move. He was here in her bedroom. Her father’s killer. Zane Halloway.

Beth regained enough control to sit up. “You!”

She reached toward the nightstand, but Zane reached out, too, and grabbed her wrist. It was inhuman how quick he moved. She’d been researching him the past several weeks, and she knew he’d apprenticed as an abditus—under Rebecca Waters no less—before inexplicably quitting and signing up for a life of cloak and dagger with the Ferox Society. She hadn’t gotten to the bottom of that mystery just yet, but she would. If she could take care of business here tonight, she would force him to tell her the story.

How many times had she thought about what she’d do in this moment? How many times had she considered and reconsidered which thorn she’d use when she finally worked up the courage to go after him?

If only she could reach the thorn in her nightstand, she could kill him. Better yet, she could incapacitate him. Then she could take her time. There would be no need to choose; she could try all her thorns and judge their effectiveness by the tenor of his screams.

He held her wrist firmly, but no more firmly than was necessary. He’d have slashed her throat by now if that had been his intent. Which raised a troubling but interesting question: if he wasn’t here to kill her, what was he doing here?

“Please,” he said. “I’m sorry to invade your privacy like this. But I need you to listen to me for a moment.”

Beth had the sudden and terrible thought that he was here to apologize. If that were the case, she didn’t know what she would do. The audacity it would take to not only steal her father’s life but then also to attempt to deflate her righteous anger with an apology defied her understanding. If that happened, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. She’d claw his eyes out, even if it did mean he’d kill her for her trouble.

But what he said next was even more unexpected than an apology.

“I’d like to ask you for a favor.”

She heard a strange, laugh-like noise and realized it was coming from her own throat. A favor? He couldn’t be serious. The only favor she’d ever grant him would be an end to his miserable life, and that only after a week or two of suffering and begging on his part. “Why the hell would I ever do anything for you?”

“Because it’s in your best interest,” Zane said. “You’re a businesswoman. And I would like to make you an offer I think you’ll find very interesting.”

She shook her head and let out another strange laugh. She couldn’t believe his nerve. A businesswoman? She was, after a fashion. But with her father dead, she was a businesswoman without a product. Zane had not only killed her father; he’d destroyed the great abditus’ life’s work. He’d destroyed the thorns and tangles her father had worked so many years to create and perfect. The beauty of her father’s work was not only in its originality, but also in its simplicity. Another master abditus would be able to duplicate Farns’ thorns and tangles after a few months of studying them, but Zane had made sure there was nothing left to study.

Still, Beth wasn’t completely without inventory. She’d brought six thorns and tangles with her when she’d left her father’s home. Zane’s apprentice had taken one of them, arguably the most powerful, and Zane had used it against her father. So Beth was left with five.

Five. That was all there was and all there ever would be. She was still trying to decide how to bring them to market. She’d space them out, let the speculation build for each new product, but she hadn’t decided how long the gap between releases should be. Most of the world didn’t know her father made thorns, so she’d save those for last.

Five and no more. It was so little for her to create the remainder of her life around.

She cleared her throat before speaking. He might have her wrist gripped in his hand. He might be armed and be bigger, stronger, and much more skilled in the art of killing. But he wanted a favor, which meant she had the advantage.

“First, let go of my wrist,” she said, “and then tell me about the favor.”

There was just enough light coming from the small lamp he held for her to see him nod. He released her wrist and took a step backwards. He didn’t warn her to not reach for the nightstand or to keep her hands in the open, and she grudgingly respected him for it. They both knew she couldn’t reach her thorn before he could stop her, so there was no need to call attention to the matter.

“It’s about a thorn,” he said.

She resisted the urge to speak. Let him have his say. Every word spoken was a tiny bit of power given up, and there was a very delicate balance happening here. Let him give up his power, one tiny piece at a time.

“Your father used it against me,” Zane said.

Beth’s urge to speak—to scream, really—grew almost unbearable, but she somehow suppressed it.

He continued. “It turned off my senses, one at a time. It was quite genius, really. As an instrument of assuming control, I’ve never seen its like.”

She couldn’t stop herself this time. “And yet, you destroyed it.”

“I did. Just as I’d been hired to do. The thing is, I’ve been doing a bit of investigation on you since we met. Since that night at Janus Hall. I’ve talked to a number of individuals who witnessed other demonstrations you made at other Abditus Society halls. And one in particular caught my attention. It seems you made a man go temporarily blind that night. And another man lost all feeling in his body for a short period of time. So I know you have another one of those particular thorns.”

He paused before adding, “I’d like to have it.”

For a long moment, she had no response. Her mind was simply incapable of forming a coherent reply to such an absurd request. She had five magical devices left from her father’s unreleased collection, and he was asking her to give him one of them. Him. She’d never part with any of them, let alone her favorite, without being paid a small fortune, and she’d never give one to him period.

“I’ll take your silence to mean you are understandably hesitant to hand it over,” Zane said. “Allow me to make my case as to why it is in your best interest.” He stood so still, like a statue towering over her while he spoke. “In the course of my investigation into your father’s whereabouts, I learned some information that was irrelevant to my assignment but was entirely interesting nonetheless. I came to find out that when your father first dropped out of the public eye, he spent some time living in the elvish ghetto.”

For the second time that night, Beth was utterly shocked and unable to speak. How did he know that? No one knew it. Her father never talked about it, not even to her. It was as if he had been trying to pretend that time never happened. But she knew it did. She’d been young, yes, but she’d never forget the great and terrible things she’d seen during the months she and her father spent living in that place behind the Blue Wall.

“The question is why,” Zane said. “Irving Farns certainly wasn’t in dire straits financially. He was a wealthy man, and I don’t believe money was ever his primary motivation, anyway. He had a curious mind, and he loved magic. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

She couldn’t and didn’t. Motivation had never been the mystery with her father. Still, it made her burn with anger that Zane so casually speculated on the innermost workings of her father’s mind. Even if he was correct.

“I think he went there to study the elves,” Zane said. “You know the stories as well as I do. About the way they used to use magic. The way they could channel it with their bare hands, without any devices. I believe your father went to the elvish ghetto to see if he could create something that would allow him to use magic closer to the way the elves used it. What’s more, I think he succeeded.”

Beth bit her lip. The things this man was saying were the same things she’d thought herself a thousand times but had never been able to prove. “What makes you think he succeeded?”

“The short duration of his stay. He was only behind the Blue Wall a few months. He either gave up or completed his research. From what I know of Irving Farns, I doubt he gave up. Not that quickly. I believe he succeeded in discovering something. But, for some reason, he never put it to use. Whatever he was originally intending, to sell it, to use it to get revenge on the person who killed your mother, whatever, he never did it. I also know that the device he created in the elvish ghetto wasn’t in his home when I searched it. It’s not in your possession either, or you wouldn’t be demonstrating tangles at local Abditus Society halls. It’s somewhere. And I’m offering to find it for you.”

Beth slowly pulled back the covers, got out of her bed, and stood up in front of Zane. She was a few inches shorter than him, but it was better than lying down. “So that’s the deal? You find this mystery device that may or may not exist, and I trade it to you for the thorn?”

“Not exactly. You give me the thorn now. Tonight. And then I find you the mysterious device.”

She scoffed at that. “Ridiculous. The thorn you want is worth a small fortune.”

“And the device I’m going to find for you is worth a very large fortune. It is something new. A new type of magical device! Can you imagine how the Abditus Society would react? Such a thing hasn’t been seen in two hundred years!”

Beth did know how the Abditus Society would react, and that was part of what scared her. If she didn’t play it perfectly, they’d take the device from her. In the name of research.

“Why do I need you?” Beth asked. “I know my father and I know what he’s been doing these last twenty years. I can find it myself.”

“Perhaps,” Zane said. “But I’ll find it faster. And I’m going to find it. Whether I give it to you or sell it myself is your choice. I’m a ferox. Finding lost things is what we do.”

“Is it?” Beth asked bitterly.

Zane didn’t flinch. “Among other things.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “There’s something else. Do you remember a man named Dursten?”

Her father’s trusted servant for many years. She’d been young when he left her father’s service, but Irving had talked about the man often enough. She nodded curtly.

“Do you remember the last time you saw him?” Zane said.

She thought about that for a long moment. She had a distinct memory of playing in a long hallway with purple walls, and Dursten looking down at her. She couldn’t remember his face, not exactly, but she remembered the shape of him. He’d been a tall, sinewy man. He had reminded young Beth of a tree in the wind, the way he moved so gracefully, but always seeming a bit off balance.

“No,” she said. “Not exactly.”

He waited a moment before speaking. “I have reason to believe Dursten stayed in the elvish ghetto when you and your father left.”

She cocked her head at that. “Why would he do that?”

“My question as well,” Zane said. “I believe your father asked him to. I think your father left him there to guard something. Maybe something too dangerous to bring out.”

“His new device,” Beth said. “The one based on elvish magic.”

Zane nodded. “What I’m offering, in exchange for the thorn, is to go get it for you.”

Beth drew in a sharp breath in spite of herself. “You’re going to go into the elvish ghetto?” The security measures they had in place these days greatly outweighed what had existed when she and her father had crossed the Blue Wall. And even if he did manage to get in, the stories of unrest made it seem unlikely he’d get back out. “That’s impossible.”

“I hear that a lot,” Zane said. “I’ve yet to fail to complete a job, regardless of how impossible my employer thinks it is.”

“Is that what I’d be?” she asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Your employer?”

“You would.”

She waited a long moment before speaking. Her father’s greatest device. His legacy. And the only thing separating her from it was the Blue Wall. “The thorn you want in is my nightstand,” Beth said. “It’s yours. I’ll need you to sign a work contract, of course. You must provide me with my father’s device within forty-five days or return the thorn and pay a penalty. Is that agreeable?”

“Fine,” Zane said. “But I need the thorn tonight. Now. Draw it up and I’ll sign.”

“Good,” Beth said. “And Mr. Halloway? When this is over, I’ll see that you pay for what you did to my father.”

To that, he had no response.

CHAPTER ONE - NOW

Lily entered through the cellar, making her way into her target’s home with only the dim light of her lamp to guide her. It was a dangerous and potentially obvious move, but it was the best point of access.

Working with Zane these past two weeks had been…strange. She was no longer his apprentice. Well, maybe legally she was, but she’d passed the Ferox Society placement exam. She wasn’t his equal, either, though. Zane was one of only four assassins in the Ferox Society, the elite in a field of the elite. When Lily did speak her vows in two weeks’ time, she’d be placed in a location in need of a ferox, but not too demanding for someone untested. A smallish hamlet, most likely. She was at the bottom of the ladder and it would take her years to work her way up and truly become Zane’s equal.

There was another way, of course. A shortcut at least one of Zane’s previous apprentices had attempted but failed. An apprentice who kills her mentor can take his place. Lily would never do that, of course. The Ferox Society was a cut-throat organization. Her time in the Academy had hardened her, and her time apprenticing under Zane had hardened her further. She wasn’t the girl she’d once been. She was a killer. Well, technically that wasn’t true. She’d never killed—not yet—but she was confident she’d be able to do so when the time came, and not miss a night of sleep because of it.

But killing Zane…she wasn’t that hard. Though she sometimes liked to imagine how she’d do it, just as a mental exercise, and she had an idea or two she was almost certain could get the slip on him. Not that she’d ever use them. No, a couple weeks from now, she’d ship off to some out-of-the-way place to begin her career, and Zane would be part of her past. A fond, if slightly intimidating, memory.

Until then, she was in this awkward place. Not Zane’s apprentice. More like his understudy.

She just hoped they could finish this Irving Farns thing before she had to leave. She’d been with him when Albert Graze hired Zane, and she intended to be with him when they finished this once and for all.

And what a last job it would be! If they pulled it off. She’d seen Zane do some things she would have thought impossible—killing Irving Farns not least among them—but this was a whole different level. What they were about to attempt…it gave her chills just thinking about it. But not chills of fear. Or, so she told herself.

Lily moved slowly through the dank basement. She shielded her tiny lamp with her left hand as she crept forward. It was just enough light to allow her to make out the vague shapes of the objects around her, but not in any detail.

Her skin was quickly wet in the hot, humid cellar and she felt like she was breathing water with the air. The dank smell of the place crawled up her nose and into her mouth, leaving a bitter, mossy taste in its wake.

Her feet squished slightly in the damp mud floor as she walked and made tiny popping sounds as she pulled them free. She cringed with each step. Not because of the noise but because of the tracks she was undoubtedly leaving. This was supposed to be a silent job, one where the owner of the home wouldn’t know she’d been here at all even after she was gone. Little chance of that with these footprints.

Ah well. That was a problem for later tonight. She’d have to cross through this basement three more times, and there were plenty of other obstacles to worry about before she could think about that one.

She was here to temporarily relieve the target of a shimmer. For Zane’s plan to work, they needed valid papers. Unfortunately for them, the papers they needed had to be validated by a government official. The government official needed to apply a very specific illusion to their papers. Which left them two problems.

One, the only shimmers that could apply the appropriate illusion were in the hands of a few government officials who had been selected specifically for their perceived inability to be bribed.

Two, even if they had the shimmer, it was delicate and difficult to use. It took months of study to learn how to apply the proper illusion. This was all by design, of course, so that even if the shimmer fell into the wrong hands, it would be extremely difficult to forge the documents.

Zane had taken care of the second problem. Lily was tasked with taking care of the first.

She made her way up the stairs to the house, taking each step slowly, walking on the edges where they would be less likely to creak. Halfway to the top, she extinguished her lamp and shoved it into her satchel. There was just enough light coming through the crack under the door to guide her.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she rested her ear against the door and waited, taking long, slow breaths, and listening.

Lily had it on good authority the owner of this house, one Harrison Oliver, would almost certainly be drunk at this hour. He was drunk at most hours, which was why Zane and Lily had selected him as the target. He should be asleep in his study, which would make slipping in and out of the house a fairly simple task.

She waited another two minutes, hearing nothing through the door. She’d hoped to hear the rumble of the man’s snore, but that was a bit much to ask. She eased the door open, doing it slowly enough to allow her eyes to adjust to the light pouring through the widening gap.

What she saw when she opened the door was so unexpected she stood frozen for a moment, unable to react.

She was looking at the parlor. Expensive furniture filled the room and soft light came from the beautifully designed oil lamps in each of the four corners. Under the faint smell of the lamps, there was the sharp tang of another scent. Lily was almost certain it was blood.

A small table sat in the center of the room. From the marble pawns, rooks, and knights scattered across the floor, Lily knew it was a chess table. But the most startling thing of all was the two men seated on either side of the table. They were dressed in loose, black clothing, the style some of the more pretentious and less practical ferox wore on the job. They were both staring at her, eyes wide and mouths agape.

The man on the right was huge, and his excess fat poured over the armrests of his chair. The other man had a face that looked like it had seen the business end of a mace at some point. Lily instantly thought of them as Big and Ugly.

Ugly, who looked to be slightly older than his compatriot, was holding something in his right hand. A small stone that glowed faintly. The shimmer.

Nothing like having your robbery interrupted by other robbers.

And there was something else. A man lay on the ground in a pool of blood, his dead eyes looking straight at Lily. She’d never met Harrison Oliver and had only the vaguest of descriptions to go by, but she felt safe in assuming the body on the floor was his.

Lily’s mind raced. These two men—two ferox?—did not look like the types to be trifled with. Evidently they’d already killed once tonight. And they were here for the shimmer, same as her. If they took it, finding it again would be difficult. She had faith that Zane would do it eventually, but by the time he did, she’d be finding lost cats and pocket watches in some second-rate town on the far side of the country. She wanted to see this plan through. It terrified her, yes, but she wanted to see it through. She’d never get another opportunity to go where they were going.

She needed to get that shimmer, and she needed to get it now.

The only thing Lily had going for her was they’d probably expected her even less than she’d expected them. And that was what gave her the edge to recover from her shock a moment before they did.

Lily sprinted toward them. She focused on the man with the shimmer, throwing a quick, left-handed jab into his face as she reached him. Before he could recover, she slashed at his right arm with her sword. He let out a tiny yelp and opened his hand, letting the shimmer fall to the table. Lily scooped it up and turned toward the other man.

Decision time. Battle or retreat?

She noticed the size of the other man again. His hands were the size of Cornish hens, and he had a belly that hung over his pants like an un-tucked shirt. He was fat, yes, but also huge. She’d never fought a man that big before, and she was sorely tempted to try. But time was of the essence here, and the big man would likely have trouble catching her.

Retreat, then.

She thought for a split second about going for the front door, but then had a mental image of herself staggering from room to room, trying to locate the exit while opening doors to closets and bedrooms, with Big and Ugly stalking behind her.

She turned and sprinted down the steps into the cellar.

As she reached the bottom, she heard a voice upstairs say, “Just keep her in sight and I’ll do the rest.”

With the light from the open door, she could clearly see the things that had only been vague shapes under the light of her small lamp. This cellar was some kind of mushroom garden. A strange, twisted part of Lily wanted to stop and inspect them; she’d always been fascinated by mushrooms. But the curious part of Lily couldn’t compete with the professional, survive-the-night side of her, so she kept running.

She dashed up the steps at the other end of the cellar and out the door to the alley behind the house. She wove into the street, not thinking about which direction she was going, just running, taking a random path through the winding streets that she hoped would be difficult to follow.

It was a quiet night. Even her light footfalls echoed through the streets. Would Big and Ugly be able to hear them and track her down?

She took one more turn, slipped into an alley, crawled into the deepest shadow she saw, and waited, letting her breath even out and her heart slow.

She felt the shimmer clutched in her right hand, and she resisted the urge to open her fingers to look at it. She couldn’t risk exposing the glow the thing gave off. A bit of light was coming from between her fingers even now. The light had looked dim in the bright parlor, but now, in this dark alley, it would appear much brighter.

After a few moments, she heard the fast approach of footsteps, and a male voice said, “I told you to keep her in sight!”

Then a lower voice, Big, she assumed, said, “I tried! Did you see how fast she moved? Like chasing a cat.”

As they argued, Lily slowly and carefully slipped out the other end of the alley and started down the street. A moment later she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She spun, and a gasped as she saw Big and Ugly standing under a street lamp behind her, easy smiles on their faces.

How…then she got it. More shimmers. They’d made it sound like their voices were coming from somewhere they weren’t. Lily silently cursed herself for falling for such a basic ruse. If only she’d stayed in the alley, she’d have lost them. They’d have moved on, likely using their shimmer each block or so to try to ferret her out.

The right arm of Ugly’s shirt was stained red with blood. His right eye looked a bit puffy, too.

“That wasn’t nice,” he said.

Big took a step toward her. He was holding a dagger with a serrated edge, and he angled it so she was sure to see it. “Come with us. We need to have a little chat.”

Lily licked her lips nervously. They had spread out, now, cornering her against the wall. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said. “You want to talk? Talk.”

Big raised the dagger higher, as if she hadn’t seen it before. “You don’t understand. You are coming with us.”

Lily let out a little chuckle. “I’m supposed to believe you’re less likely to hurt me if I follow you somewhere private? That’s not happening.”

Big glanced at Ugly, an incredulous look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe this woman would dare refuse his demand.

Ugly shrugged and said, “What is it? Two in the morning? No one’s going to help you here, either. Not if we want to hurt you. Good news for you is we don’t. We just need that shimmer back.”  He held out his hand, palm up.

Zane had taught Lily there were a few places on the human body people seemed to think of as part of what makes them them. Damaging those places could make a great psychological impact, thus gaining the attacker an advantage. The face, especially the eyes. The groin. The throat. And the hands.

Zane had also taught her to carry a number of knives hidden on her person, including a small one up each sleeve.

Lily sighed, as if defeated. As she did, she flicked her left wrist just so, releasing the knife and letting it slip into her waiting grasp. She brought her left hand up, and quickly down again, stabbing the blade into Ugly’s open palm.

The man howled in pain and surprise, instinctively pulling the hand toward himself, likely causing further damage.

She wrenched the knife from his palm, and a spurt of blood, looking black in the dim light, followed after it. She spun toward Big, not playing now, not taking any chances, and whipped the knife at him. She looked just long enough to make sure it stuck in his eyeball, then she turned and fled.

No games. No hiding and waiting to see if she could trick them. They were injured and she wasn’t. If she ran, she would be free of them.

So she ran, and she didn’t stop running until she reached the home of Beth Farns.

CHAPTER TWO

Zane hated waiting.

That wasn’t exactly true. He was a man of exquisite patience. His job demanded it. He often times had to wait hours, hidden in some-out-of-the-way place until his quarry moved into the perfect position. He’d once waited outside the secret home of Irving Farns for three hours, doing nothing but observing the lack of activity in the house until he was confident enough to move in for the final confrontation with the famed abditus.

And now here he was sitting the living room of Irving Farns’ only daughter. He usually took pleasure in life’s strange little ironies. Not this time. The tension hung thick in the air, and he got the sense the young Ms. Farns was perpetually teetering on the edge of losing control and attacking him.

While he didn’t mind the kind of waiting that was inherent to the job of a ferox, he had a difficult time with the type of waiting he was doing tonight. Waiting for someone else to complete their job successfully so he could move on to the next phase of his.

He trusted Lily, at least as far as a paranoid assassin was capable of trusting anyone, but he was still having a difficult time thinking of her as a full-fledged ferox. He’d been her mentor for two years, and his job had been to prepare her, yes, but to prepare her safely and at a logical pace. Tonight, he found himself fighting the urge to take to the streets, to observe her from the shadows as she entered the home of Harrison Oliver and retrieved the shimmer. But he couldn’t. He had to wean himself off such things. In two weeks, she would be gone to set up shop as a ferox herself, and she’d be far outside his protection. The best he could hope for after that was a letter every once in a while. He knew even that wasn’t likely. She’d become paranoid soon enough, as all ferox did, and she’d slowly cut off communication with him. It was the natural way of things. It had been that way with his previous apprentices, the ones who didn’t try to kill him, anyway. And he’d dealt with it. So why was he having such a difficult time accepting it this time around?

There was another man in the room with Beth and Zane. Saul Franklin was the person who would make possible what they were doing tonight. And he was being paid handsomely for his efforts.

Zane noticed Beth was staring with a slightly different tenor of hatred than usual. “What is it?” he asked her.

Her lips were a thin red line. She opened her mouth just wide enough to let the words out when she spoke. “I want to go with you.”

“That’s not necessary,” Zane said. The last thing he needed was her tagging along. There was enough danger where they were going without having to protect his back from her knife.

“Perhaps not,” Beth said. “But I’ve been there before. And I’m considered your employer in this matter, am I not? And I am telling you, I wish to accompany you on the job.”

In general, Zane hated contracts. In the rare event that his clients asked for them, he refused, and he showed them the door if they insisted. It was partly because the law was slanted so far in the client’s favor in contractual disputes. If there was a contract, he could be taken to court if he didn’t complete the job to the client’s satisfaction. Or even made to reveal trade secrets. But the other part of it was he liked to set his own terms. He wanted the option of walking away if the job didn’t feel right. He made that clear to his clients upfront. Having a contract would reduce at least some of his flexibility in that regard.

But this was the rare instance where having a contract would actually work in his favor.

“Ms. Farns,” he said, “our contract is clear in this matter. I carry out the job as I see fit. And the way I see fit is to have you wait here for our safe return.”

The woman’s face reddened slightly. “Fine. Just remember what else our contract says.”

He remembered. That’s why he was here. The contract specified he was required to either locate and deliver the magical device Irving Farns created behind the Blue Wall, or he must return the thorn Beth had given him and pay a hefty fee.

He had no problem paying the fee, but the thorn was another matter. Faraday, the deceased former King’s Sword, had destroyed it during their mission to kill Charles Danum. So there was no thorn to return. Zane was forced to deliver the mysterious magical device.

It was a terrible contract, and Zane would never have signed it had he not been so desperate. But he knew the courts wouldn’t accept that as an excuse.  If he didn’t deliver he would lose his position in the Ferox Society, best case scenario. Worst case, if Beth pressed the matter, he’d go to prison for his breach of contract. And he knew Beth Farns would press the matter to the fullest extent of the law.

“There’s Dursten to consider,” Beth said. “If you locate him, he’d be much more likely to talk to me than you.”

Zane nodded, trying to remain patient. This woman had been through a lot. And a large portion of her problems had been caused by Zane.

“Making people talk is part of my job. Believe me when I tell you, coming along is not worth the risk. The elvish ghetto is different than when you were a child.”

Beth’s lips returned to that thin red line and she looked out the window, sulking.

They waited for another five minutes, with Beth Farns fuming, Franklin fidgeting nervously, and Zane looking out the window. Then there were three quick raps on the door.

Zane marched to the door and pulled it open.

Lily was breathing heavily, as if she’d been running. Flecks of blood dotted her hands.

“Not mine,” she said by way of greeting, following Zane’s gaze.

He nodded sharply and stepped aside to let her enter.

Before she’d gotten through the door, he said, “What happened?”

She held up a small round object that glowed with a soft light, and a wide smile broke across her face. “I got it is what happened.”

A bit of the tension drained out of the room.

“Good, good,” Franklin said, laying out two pieces of paper on the table in front of him. “Bring it here.”

While Franklin was arranging the papers, Lily looked at Zane and pointed at the stone, then moved a finger in a slashing motion across her throat.

It took Zane a moment, but he got it. Harrison Oliver was dead.

He had questions, so many questions, but now wasn’t the time to ask them. Lily wanted to keep the information from Franklin for the time being, and Zane would follow her lead, as much as it went against his nature. It made sense. Finding out his longtime boss was dead would probably make Franklin more upset than he already was, which might cause him to back out of the job.

Zane had spent days researching Franklin before he’d contacted the man. Franklin had worked for Harrison Oliver for nearly twenty years. he had been a manservant, much like Dursten had been to the Farns. As a manservant, he’d hitched his fate to that of his employer. However, unlike Dursten, Franklin’s master hadn’t had the rise to prominence Franklin had hoped. Over the last twenty years, he’d watch Harrison Oliver go from a young, respected officer with all the promise in the world, to a middle-aged officer passed over for the best assignments, to an old officer who was well-respected but would never again be promoted.

Perhaps Oliver had been disappointed, too. Ten years ago, he’d turned to the bottle and turned to it hard. He was secretly drunk most of the time now. As his position dictated he could be called on at any time, night or day, to perform his official function, Oliver had trained his manservant Franklin how to do it for him. The need had only arisen twice before, but Franklin had performed flawlessly both times.

And now Zane needed him to do it again, this time without his master’s permission.

“Give me the shimmer,” Franklin said in a low voice, his eyes still on the two papers in front of him. As he waited with his hand outstretched, he said, “These papers are good. I wouldn’t be able to tell them from the real thing. Whatever you paid for them, it was worth it.”

Lily gave him the shimmer. Franklin hunched over the papers and went to work, moving the device in complex patterns.

After a few moments of everyone silently watching Franklin work, Lily asked, “What happens when we cross?”

Franklin sighed, clearly annoyed, the shimmer still moving across the papers. “Would someone please answer? I need to concentrate.”

Zane said, “When we get to the wall, they’ll check our paperwork. If it passes inspection—”

“It will pass,” Franklin interrupted.

“Fine, when it passes inspection,” Zane continued, “they’ll apply our badges and we’ll be waved through. From there we’re on our own.”

Zane saw the concern on Lily’s face, though he could tell she was trying hard not to show it. He felt the urge to say something comforting but suppressed it.

A few minutes later, Franklin sat up and smiled. “There.”

“May I?” Zane asked.

Franklin nodded, and Zane picked up one of the sheets.

The paper itself looked unchanged. But the words…the words seemed to hover. It was as if they’d been written on the air three inches above the paper rather than on the paper itself. The effect was unsettling, and looking at it too long made Zane feel slightly dizzy.

“Those will get you through,” Franklin said. “Now, I’ll take my payment and be done.”

Zane flipped the man a gold throne, and Franklin snatched it out of the air.

“And the other half when you’re back through,” Franklin said.

Zane could tell the man was concerned he’d never see them again. But Zane had to give Franklin incentive to make sure their papers were good enough that they’d make it back here rather than end up in prison.

“Just like we discussed,” Zane said. Franklin started to stand, but Zane held up a hand to stop him. “There’s something else. Something that won’t be easy to hear.” He nodded to Lily.

Her face was unreadable. “Harrison Oliver is dead.”

The color drained from Franklin’s face.

“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said.

Zane sighed. Her people skills still left a bit to be desired. He’d hoped that would come with time, but he was beginning to have his doubts.

Lily turned to Zane. “Two men were there when I arrived. Ferox, maybe. Oliver was dead on the ground. They had the shimmer. I took it from them.”

Zane nodded at the concise field report. It was concerning news. Two people attempting to rob the same government official the same night they did? It couldn’t be a coincidence. For a moment, he considered that it might be Beth who’d sent them. But that made no sense. It was in her best interests to have them succeed.

They needed to get the shimmer back to Oliver’s home immediately. A government official found murdered was one thing, but if he was found dead and his shimmer—one of only six of its kind in existence—went missing, the government would likely shut the gate and not let anyone through the Blue Wall until the shimmer was found again.

“I need to put this shimmer back,” Lily said, echoing Zane’s thoughts.

Zane agreed. He put a hand on Franklin’s shoulder. “I know this is difficult, but I’m going to guide you through it. You spent the evening visiting friends on the east side. I’ll give you names of people who will back your story. In a few minutes, you’re going to go home and find Harrison’s body. You’ll immediately contact the authorities. Understand?”

There was a vacant look in his eyes. The man was in shock, Zane realized.

Zane turned to Lily. “They might still be watching Oliver’s house.”

Lily shrugged. “Won’t be a problem. I’ll slip past them.”

She was right. Zane was impressed when she returned only an hour later, the job successfully completed.

The next morning, Zane and Lily headed for the Blue Wall and towards the elvish ghetto.

CHAPTER THREE

Lily shuddered as they passed under the shadow of the Blue Wall. No matter how long she lived in Barnes, it always happened. She couldn’t help it. It came from a childhood spent hearing horror stories of elves who slipped through the Blue Wall at night and stole bad children, taking them back to their home to cook and eat.

Indeed, when she’d gotten her assignment as Zane Halloway’s apprentice, her first thought hadn’t been of the honor of being assigned to one of only four assassins in the Ferox Society. It wasn’t of the skills she’d learn and how it would put her ahead of her classmates on her career path. No, it was that she’d be stationed in Barnes, home of the largest elvish ghetto in the nation.

The sight of the wall made her feel small, like a little girl again. It was a deep blue that almost seemed to glow. She felt terrible for all the people who had to live under that shadow.

Today they weren’t merely passing under the shadow of the wall. They were crossing over into the elvish ghetto itself. The thought terrified Lily, but she did her best to keep her feelings hidden. She was no longer a little girl, she wasn’t even an apprentice, and she had to put those childish fears aside. Despite her best efforts, they kept creeping up.

The cart jostled and leapt as it rolled over the many bumps in the road leading through this less-than-affluent section of the city. Lily and Zane sat crammed into the front bench of the small cart. Zane had the reins. Lily saw his eyes were unconsciously scanning the surroundings, undoubtedly looking for any sign of danger.

Zane said, “I’m sorry, but I have to ask again. Pumpkins?”

Lily shrugged, but she felt her face grow hot.

They were posing as merchants bringing supplies for sale into the elvish ghetto, one of the few legitimate reasons for crossing the Blue Wall. It had been Lily’s responsibility to acquire the cart and the produce they were supposed to be selling. Her logic had been that this was a one-time trip so she should acquire the cheapest items possible. So she’d bought this rickety old cart and filled it with pumpkins, the cheapest product for sale at the merchant she’d visited.

“Something wrong with pumpkins?” she asked.

“Nothing at all,” Zane answered, but she couldn’t help noticing the mischievous grin on his face. “Pumpkins are very sensible. Would have been even more sensible last month.”

Lily had no idea what that meant, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking.

A few moments later, the smirk melted off Zane’s face, and a serious look replaced it. He shifted in his seat and looked toward the Blue Wall. For a moment, Lily thought he was going to give some final instructions or reminders, but he didn’t. What else was there to say? They’d either make it past the Blue Wall, or they wouldn’t.

They came to a place where the road widened. The cart rolled to a stop as they reached the gate. The two guards on either side of the road approached slowly, each with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The guard on Zane’s side of the cart said, “Busy day. You’re my second passage already.” He nodded toward the cart. “What’s your cargo?”

Zane cleared his throat before he spoke. “Pumpkins.”

The guard looked a bit taken aback. “Really?”

The other guard walked to the back of the cart and peeked underneath the tarp. “They’re pumpkins.”

The first guard squinted at Zane. “You do know the Midnight Festival was last month, right?”

“We do,” Zane said in a confident voice.

The guard scratched his chin. “I’ve never seen pumpkins come through here other than for the Midnight Festival. I always thought as far as the points were concerned, pumpkins were only a festival thing.”

Zane’s face darkened, but only for a moment. Lily thought it was likely the guard’s casual use of the word points that bothered him. It was a term Lily’s father had often used back at home, a reference to the elvish trait of pointed ears. Lily had used it herself a time or two. But since attending Ferox Academy, she’d learned most considered it a derogatory term. One of her professors had said using that word behind the Blue Wall would be tantamount to taking one’s own life. Yet here was a guard right outside the elvish ghetto using the word as casually as if he were a thousand miles away from the nearest elf.

“These pumpkins are part of a larger business opportunity,” Zane said. “The specifics of which are between me and the points.” He emphasized the last word, practically spitting it back at the guard.

The guard frowned, the jovial friendliness suddenly gone. He held out his hand. “Papers, please.”

Zane passed him the two sets of papers.

“One moment,” the guard said, then he turned and walked back to the Blue Wall.

The other guard stood behind the cart, arms folded across his chest. Lily couldn’t help but notice he was subtly blocking their only escape route.

Lily carefully watched the guard at the gate. He was turned so that his body partially blocked her view of his actions. She could still see his right arm and the edge of the paper he held.

This was the moment of truth, Lily knew. The guard had a specialized tangle he would use on the paper. If the illusion had been properly applied by a government-approved shimmer, the illusion would react one way. If it had been applied by any other shimmer, or applied incorrectly with an approved shimmer, the illusion would react another way. In a few moments, they would either be passing through the Blue Wall or on their way to prison.

The guard moved something across the surface of the paper, and the text on the page suddenly glowed a bright, smoky red.

A cold sweat broke out on Lily’s brow. Was red text good or bad?

The guard walked back to them, his face unreadable. He handed Zane the papers.

“Follow me,” he said, and turned and walked away without waiting for a reply.

Were they being led through? Or were they being taken to a holding cell? Lily looked at Zane, and he gave her a tiny, reassuring smile.

The two guards pulled the gates open and motioned them through. Zane clucked his tongue and gave the reigns a quick snap, and the horse began walking forward.

The cart went through the gate, and suddenly they were inside the Blue Wall. It was dim in here, and it felt a few degrees cooler than the outside. There was a heavy gate in front of them. The elvish ghetto would be on the other side of that gate, but the grating was too tight to see anything but a bit of sunlight poking through.

The two guards stepped inside and pulled the gate behind them shut. The first guard moseyed up the cart. His posture was relaxed, but Lily noticed his hand was resting on the hilt of his sword.

He spoke in a monotone, rapid voice, as if he’d given this speech verbatim hundreds of times. “Once you pass through those gates, you are under Elvish law. It is recommended you visit the magistrate with any questions as soon as possible, as ignorance of the law is not an excuse for breaking it. If you are attacked, robbed, or otherwise have harm done to you, please lodge your complaint with the Elvish magistrate as crimes committed beyond the Blue Wall are not the concern of the Opel crown. If you die under suspicious circumstances, it is the responsibility of your next of kin to inform the Opel crown, who may or may not investigate the matter at his own discretion. If you are taken hostage, no ransom will be paid by the Opel crown or any of its nobility. By passing through that gate, you temporarily forfeit all your rights as a citizen of Opel. Upon your return, you will pay a forty percent tax on all items bought, sold, or bartered during your visit beyond the Blue Wall. Failure to declare transactions and make a full payment of taxes owned is punishable by imprisonment. Do you have any questions about the Opel crown’s responsibilities to you in regards to your visit beyond the Blue Wall?”

“No,” Zane said.

The guard looked at Lily. “I’ll need an answer from each of you.”

“No,” Lily said.

The guard pulled out a small round object that looked a bit like the shimmer Lily had taken from Harrison Oliver’s home the previous night. He pressed it to the backs of each of their hands. When he took it away, there was a blue image of a throne. It looked like a tattoo.

“That’s your ticket back through, and it only lasts a week,” the guard said, “so be about your business and hurry back.”

The guards then walked to the far gates and pulled them open. Pale sunlight poured in, and, although she had only been in the dim interior for a few minutes, it stung Lily’s eyes.

The lead guard paused for a minute, then said, “I haven’t seen you pass through here before, so I’m going to say one more thing. Don’t believe anything the points tell you. Lying comes as natural to them as breathing does to you or me. And they have a way of swaying you to their way of thinking with just the sound of their voice.” He paused for another moment. “I guess I’m saying keep your wits about you. I hope to see you come back through.”

“Thank you,” Zane said, a bit briskly. “We’ll take your advice to heart.”

The guards waved them through. They rolled forward and entered the elvish ghetto.

The first things that struck Lily were the houses. They were tall, skinny things, and some of them seemed to lean at angles that defied gravity. Everything about their design, the rhombus shape of their windows, the brightly painted colors, the shrubbery planted on their roofs, was strange and foreign. It was like stepping into another world.

And then there were the elves themselves.

Lily had only met one elf, a servant in a place called the Oasis, a secret retirement community for abditus. He had done nothing to relieve Lily’s fears about his people. His words had somehow clouded her mind, making her think it was a good idea to turn herself over to the Oasis’ leaders. Zane, however, had resisted the persuasive techniques.

But now, she was on a street filled with elves. On average, they were slightly taller than humans. Lily guessed they ranged from about six foot to seven and a half feet, and they tended to be thin, though she saw a few fat ones as well. Their alabaster skin, pointed ears, and dark eyes seemed to be universal among them.

Lily noticed most of them walked with their heads down, which surprised her a little, even though it probably shouldn’t have. It was all part of the mystery of the elves.

For centuries, elves had lived free in Opel, sometimes working as the kingdom’s allies, but more often as enemies. They were greatly outnumbered by the humans, but they thrived in small communities, often deep in the woods as far as possible from human cities. In the old stories, elves were depicted as mystical tricksters, able to perform amazing feats of magic using only their bare hands. They were willing to do favors for humans, but the price was always high. Their words often had hidden meanings, and the humans who dealt with them were usually surprised when they discovered the full extent of what they’d agreed to.

How much of that was true, Lily did not know. What was certain was the elves were a proud and noble people who were not to be trifled with.

Fifty years ago a war had broken out between humans and elves in Opel. By all accounts, the elves had devastated the human armies in the first months of the war. They were skilled in both magic and battle strategy, and some of the reports told of elvish armies defeating human armies ten times their size.

Then something had changed. Out of nowhere, they had suddenly surrendered. And the human armies weren’t sure what to make of it. The Abditus Society, which had experienced massive growth in the previous decade, claimed responsibility for the change. The king, the current King Edward’s grandfather, claimed it was the bravery and moral superiority of his troops that broke the elves’ spirits.

Whatever the cause, a sudden and dramatic shift seemed to happen in the psyche of the elves. Not only did they surrender unconditionally, but they allowed themselves to be herded into the ghettos and forced to live in overcrowded communities where they were kept behind locked gates. They were different personality-wise as well. Once a proud people who seemed to look down on humans as a lesser species, they were now subservient, as Lily observed in the way they carried themselves.

She almost wished she could meet one of the old elves. The dangerous ones. She couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for them, even though she knew they had started the war with the humans. If they had won the war, it would probably be Lily and her family locked up in a ghetto somewhere.

Lily turned to Zane and saw he was staring into the streets ahead of them, deep in thought.

“What’s going on with you?” Lily asked. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Zane nodded slowly. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about what the guard said. About how we’re his second crossing of the day already.”

Lily thought about that for a moment. “You think the men from last night might have crossed over, too?”

Zane shrugged. “It’s possible. Maybe one of those two men you saw was able to use the shimmer. To us, Harrison Oliver was the obvious weak link in the Blue Wall’s security. If these other people did any investigation, they may have come to the same conclusion. You said the two men were doing something with the shimmer when you walked in on them.”

“So what do we do?” Lily asked.

Zane turned and looked at her. “We need to finish our business quickly and get home. With any luck, we’ll be gone before they even know we’re here.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Zane watched the road warily as he guided the cart through the crowded streets. He’d been here only once before, toward the beginning of his ferox career when he’d been dumb and desperate to make a name for himself. He’d taken any assignment thrown his way, the more dangerous and foolhardy, the better. The job in the elvish ghetto—retrieving a family heirloom supposedly taken by elves—had turned out to be a paranoid delusion of his client, and had resulted in Zane taking a pretty good beating from a group of elves who didn’t like his unfounded accusations. Zane had lost a fair amount of his reputation as an up-and-comer as a result. Thankfully, the Henry Longstrain job had happened only a few months later and cemented his standing as the rising star in the Ferox Society.

The streets were much more crowded than they’d been the last time he’d been here. It made sense; the elves were a long-lived people, and their ghetto wasn’t getting any bigger while their population was.

Seeing this place, Zane couldn’t help but grow a bit angry. It was the Opelean fear of elves, of the stories of elves, that resulted in them being locked up here. But instead of going away, the problem was quite literally growing. King Edward would have to do something about it. He’d have to find some way to come to a lasting peace with the elves. Perhaps give them their own land with enough room to grow. Keeping them locked up behind a wall for fifty years was beyond foolhardy.

Their passage through the crowded streets was slow. Most of the elves walking around them seemed to be making faster progress.

Suddenly the crowd froze, and everyone turned to the north. Zane turned in his seat and followed their gaze. What he saw caught him by surprise.

There was an elf mounted on a tall black warhorse. He sat ramrod straight in the saddle, and, unlike all the other elves in the streets, he held his head high. There was something inarguably noble about him, even at this distance. It was like looking at one of the old elves, the proud warrior elves from the stories, come to life.

“Who is that?” Lily asked.

Zane just shook his head. He noticed the elf wore a broadsword on his belt. Zane had never before seen an armed elf. It went against everything he knew about their nature.

The elf’s eyes scanned the crowded streets and settled on…Zane. The elf leaned over and whispered to an especially tall elf walking next to his horse. The tall elf nodded briskly, then sprinted through the crowd. The people stepped out of his way as he went, giving him a wide berth.

The elf, Zane realized, was running directly toward them.

Lily already had her sword half-drawn. Zane put a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait,” he said. “Don’t do anything unless he does something first.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to argue. She’d been quick to call him out lately when he gave her an order, quick to remind him she wasn’t his apprentice anymore. But this time she just nodded.

The tall elf stopped ten feet from them and bowed deeply. And quickly. When he raised himself up, he raised his head high, and Zane saw some of the same pride he’d noticed in the mounted elf. But this elf was much younger, probably still a teenager, though it was difficult to tell with their kind.

“Noble merchants,” the tall elf said, “my General Ewrkind bids you greeting.”

Zane raised an eyebrow. An elvish general? He wondered what being a general meant in this place. And what King Edward would make of an elf declaring himself one.

The tall elf continued. “As we have not seen you here before, Ewrkind offers his warmest welcome. He asks that you dine in his home this evening. He wishes to welcome you properly, and to discuss matters of business that might prove mutually beneficial.”

The elf looked directly at Zane as he spoke, ignoring Lily. Whether this was because Zane was a man, because he was older, or because he was driving the cart, Zane did not know

“Thank you for the generous greeting and your hospitality,” Zane said. “We would, of course, love nothing more than to sup with Ewrkind. When and where?”

“Dinner will be served promptly at seven. Do not be late.” The hint of a smile played across his lips. “As to the location…I’m sure anyone you come into contact with between then and now would be happy to point you to Ewrkind’s home.”

So that was the game. They wanted Zane to ask the elves in the street about Ewrkind. They wanted Zane to hear about his reputation from strangers. Which, of course, meant that Ewrkind had a reputation. That much was already clear from the way the elves reacted to his appearance. But what had he done to earn it? He’d known Zane was a first-time merchant in the ghetto, which meant that Ewrkind likely had some kind of deal worked out with the guards at the gate. Did they pass him word when a new merchant came through? What did he give them in return?

Zane bowed deeply to the tall elf. “Seven o’clock sharp. We will be there.”

The tall elf nodded, turned on his heel, and sprinted back toward Ewrkind. The crowd parted ahead of him and closed behind him as he went.

When he was out of earshot, Lily said, “So much for a quick trip in and out.”

Zane couldn’t disagree. “I have a bad feeling we’ve just gotten ourselves mixed up in local politics.”

He clucked his tongue and urged the horse forward without further comment.

Twenty minutes later, and after stopping random elves twice for directions, Zane turned onto a narrow side street with far less foot traffic. Five minutes after that, he pulled the horse to a stop. “This is it,” he said.

Zane looked up the house next to them. In many ways, it was just like most of the other homes they’d passed: tall, narrow, and seemingly about to topple over. The peeling paint and dirty windows made it slightly below average, if anything.

Zane told Lily to wait in the cart and went to knock on the door. A broad elvish woman answered. It took a little convincing and more than a few coins, but a few minutes later, she was herding three young elves out the door.

When she was out of sight, Zane walked back to the cart. “I’ve bought us twenty minutes. Let’s make good use of it.”

They went through the front door and surveyed the home. It was clean, but that was all that could be said for it.

“He’s upstairs,” Zane said. “The woman elf said he’d talk to us.”

They went up the steps and made their way to a small bedroom at the end of a long hallway with purple walls.

A man stood in the doorway. He gave Zane an appraising look. “Well, I expect you’d better come in.”

Zane estimated Dursten’s age at mid-seventies, far beyond the average male lifespan. He was a tall man, and thin, as if his years spent in beyond the Blue Wall had caused him to take on elvish traits. His hair was white, but he still had all of it, and he wore it loose, letting it hang over his shoulders rather than pulling back in a ponytail as was the style of most men. There was a sparkle in his eye, but he wore a scowl, as if he’d seen everything there was to see and none of it impressed him much.

Zane hoped to live to such an age and still be so healthy and mobile, but it seemed unlikely given his line of work.

“Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Dursten,” Zane said.

Dursten didn’t respond. Instead he turned and walked to his bed and sank down onto it.

“Mr. Dursten,” Zane began, “have you heard about what happened to Irving Farns?”

Dursten nodded slowly. “It’s a shame. An assassin of all things. I get some communication smuggled in from the outside. I expect that’s how you found me.”

Now it was Zane’s turn to nod. In fact, they’d found him through Farns’ accountant. Zane had liberated the man’s books, and discovered he was having a monthly payment smuggled into the elvish ghetto, along with instructions from Farns to continue the payment even after his death.

“He always promised he’d come back,” Dursten said, his eyes suddenly cloudy. “The last few years, I’ve lived in fear of that day. When I heard he’d died, I was devastated of course. But also a little relieved.”

Zane weighed whether to ask about that last comment, but decided against it.

Dursten’s eyes suddenly sharpened as he looked at Lily. She was glancing around the room, clearly unimpressed.

“Hard to believe the great Irving Farns worked in a place like this, isn’t it?” Dursten asked. “He didn’t come here for luxury. In fact, quite the opposite. Many people thought he left the public eye because of the death of his wife. That was part of it. The catalyst, you might say. But he’d been considering such a move for a while. He loved the study of magic, and he felt that the sudden notoriety abditus were enjoying was distracting from that. He wanted to work purely, with no distractions. No frills.”

“Mission accomplished, I guess,” Lily said.

If Dursten heard the comment, he didn’t acknowledge it. “This was Irving’s study back then.” He glanced out into the hallway, a fond look on his face. “He never allowed young Beth in the room with him while he was working. Too much potential for things to go wrong. But she liked to be as close to him as possible, especially after her mother passed. Irving was paranoid she would topple down those steep steps, so I was assigned to guard her against the dangers at both ends of the hall. I spent many an hour in that hallway.”

He was quiet for a long moment.

“Tell us about Farns’ research,” Zane prompted.

Dursten chuckled. “I won’t be much help to you there. He didn’t share details of his work, at least not with me. Never mind that I gave up my life to come live in this hellhole for him.” He drifted off for a moment, and Zane thought he was done, but then he continued. “I can tell you that he worked with an intensity he’d never shown before. He was so excited when he completed his experiments. He couldn’t contain himself. And then…suddenly he wasn’t. I don’t know how else to describe it. He was crestfallen. He left shortly thereafter.”

“And you stayed behind,” Lily said bluntly. “Why?”

Dursten rubbed his chin. “He said he couldn’t bear to take his new device back across the Blue Wall. It was too dangerous. But he also couldn’t bear to destroy it. So he asked me to stay behind. To keep it safe until he figured out something better.”

“And he never did?” Zane asked.

Dursten shook his head. “I kept thinking it would be soon. It had to be. There was never a problem Irving Farns couldn’t solve. And he was counting on me to keep it safe.” Tears filled the old man’s eyes.

“And you didn’t,” Zane said, the realization hitting him. That’s why Dursten had said he was relieved when he’d heard Farns had died.

“I did!” Dursten snarled, his face suddenly a mask of fury. “I gave up everything to protect it. I had a family once, you know. A sister. I never even got to tell her what happened to me. For all she knows, I died in a ditch somewhere.” His face softened a little. “But then, a few years ago, things changed here. It got rougher. And someone told someone that I had a Farns device. And he came and took it.” His face hardened again. “What was I supposed to do? Fight him? I’m an old man! I did my best. Irving would have understood that, if I’d worked up the nerve to tell him.”

Zane put a gentle hand on Dursten’s shoulder. “Who, Mr. Dursten? Who took the device from you?”

He looked up at Zane. “It was an elf named Ewrkind.”

CHAPTER FIVE

They found a stable for their horse and cart in a not-too-crowded section of town and decided to walk the six blocks to Ewrkind’s home. Just as the elf had implied, they had no difficulty getting directions. Indeed, mentioning Ewrkind’s name brought about a strange transformation. The first elf they approached walked with his head low, and he seemed very reluctant to speak with Lily and Zane. But upon hearing their question, a light leapt into his eyes, and he spoke excitedly, giving far too many details.

When they were two blocks away, they asked another elf to ensure they were headed on the correct path. This elf spit on the ground and scowled. He muttered something Lily didn’t entirely catch about, “Ewrkind getting his hooks in every last connection to the outside.” There was more, but Lily didn’t hear it.

Zane stopped about a block from their destination and spoke softly to her. “They will want something from us. It may be information. It may be favors. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to convince us to smuggle contraband either out or back in on our next visit. Any thoughts on how we play this?”

Lily felt a twinge of mild annoyance. This was how he’d spoken to her when she’d been his apprentice. Everything was a test, a learning opportunity. Even when it was life or death. “I say if they want information, we give it to them. Within reason, of course. If we get the sense they are trying to enlist us into some sort of smuggling operation, we can play coy. We are just starting out as merchants, and if they can help us get set up, perhaps next time or the time after we would be agreeable to moving a small item or two across the Blue Wall.” At that point, it wouldn’t matter. According to their plan, Lily and Zane would be out of the elvish ghetto within a couple days. Or they would be dead. Either way, it would be difficult for Ewrkind to hold them accountable to any commitments.

“My thoughts exactly,” Zane said. He looked pleased, the way he always did when she got an answer correct. But he didn’t look surprised. Wonder of wonders, Zane Halloway was starting to respect her opinion. “Just remember the eyes.”

Lily nodded briskly. She wasn’t likely to forget about their eyes. She’d looked the Oasis elf in the eyes as he spoke, and her head had spun and twisted, as if his words were reshaping her very thoughts. The effect was always there when elves spoke, she’d felt it even getting directions from the elves on the street, but it was manageable as long as you didn’t look them in the eyes.

“Won’t they think I’m rude if I don’t look them in the eye when talking with them?” Lily had asked when discussing the matter back on the other side the Blue Wall.

Zane had smiled, clearly tickled at her sudden concern for social niceties. “Quite the opposite. Not looking them in the eye means you understand them and know what they’re capable of. For a people stripped of so much of their dignity, that kind of fear and respect is important.”

Lily rubbed her head and looked up at the house in front of them. It looked much like the others on the street: tall, shrubbery growing from the roof, and not entirely structurally sound, from the look of it. What it lacked in beauty, it made up for in sheer size. It was the size of any other three houses put together.

Zane knocked, and it was only a moment before the door opened. The tall elf who’d passed along Ewrkind’s invitation earlier that day greeted them.

“Welcome, honored guests!” He paused for a moment. “I must apologize. I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier. I am Gabel. I run the household and other assorted business for Ewrkind.”

Zane and Lily each bowed slightly, the appropriate amount for a servant. A human servant, anyway. Who knew about the norms for an elvish one?

“I am Zane Anderson. This is my employee Lily Moore.”

The odds of anyone behind the Blue Wall having heard of Zane Halloway were slim, but one couldn’t be too careful. Lily posing as Zane’s employee only made sense in the light of her comparative youth.

Gabel returned their bow, much more deeply than they’d given him. The bow of a servant greeting honored guests. Not everything was different behind the Blue Wall, apparently.

He ushered them inside, glanced quickly out into the street, and shut the door behind them.

They stood in darkness. Lily could only just make out the shape of Zane a few feet in front of her. There was no artificial light, and while Lily had seen windows on the outside of the house, she could see no light coming through them now. They must have been covered with thick curtains.

She heard Gabel say, “I’m so sorry. I’ll light the lamps. We should have done this before you arrived.”

Lily highly doubted this was an unintentional error. More likely, it was a not-so-subtle show of power. Elves could see in the dark, and humans could not.

Gabel moved through the room, lighting lamps one by one. It was an odd way to experience a space for the first time, with small areas of the room slowly coming becoming visible. It was like seeing small sections of a puzzle without seeing the whole thing. And with each new lamp lit, a new wonder came into view.

From the outside, Lily had had low expectations for the interior of the home. But this was beyond extravagant. It was clear much time, effort, and coin had been spent on the design of this space. It looked very different from the homes of human nobles Lily had seen, but no less impressive. Most nobles seemed to show their wealth through stone and metal. Marble floors and tables. Silverware and silver frames. And gold. Gold on all available surfaces. The more gold, the higher your status.

This was different. There was no gold in sight. And very little of any metals. Instead, the elegance of this place was displayed with wood. Beautiful wood, richly carved. There was Birdseye Maple. And oak. And rich, deep mahogany. The banister leading up the stairs next to Lily was intricately carved to look like it was wrapped in a twisting, leafy vine. The detail was astounding. Lily didn’t even want to think about how long this must have taken.

When the last lamp was lit, as if the timing was perfectly planned, Ewrkind stepped into the room. Lily’s breath caught in her throat when she saw him. He was beautiful. There was no other way to describe him. It was as if the word beautiful had been created to describe him. But it wasn’t a beauty that made her want to touch him. It was an unworldly beauty, an unattainable beauty. There was something troubling about looking at him.

Gabel was tall, but Ewrkind was even taller. The doorways were perfectly sized so he could walk through without brushing his head against them, but just barely.

The elf clapped his hands together. “Ah, the guests have arrived.”

Gabel swept in next to Ewrkind. “Mr. Zane Anderson and Miss Lily Moore.”

“Wonderful,” he shook their hands. His skin was soft but cool to the touch. He glanced at the swords hanging from their belts. “Would you mind terribly letting Gabel hold onto your weapons for the duration of our meal? As you can see, I’m unarmed, and I find it more pleasant if my guests are, too.”

Zane paused only a moment before he complied and handed the servant his sword. Lily reluctantly did the same. She consoled herself with the knowledge that she had a number of knives hidden on her person.

Ewrkind led them into the dining room. He sat at the head of the table and gestured for them to sit on either side of him.

A plate of fresh grapes was set in front of each of them, and Lily popped one in her mouth. It was delicious. It did make her wonder how Ewrkind was getting such fresh produce behind the Blue Wall. From the stories she’d heard, there were always difficulties getting enough food here, let alone fresh produce.

Apparently she wasn’t alone in her thoughts.

Zane said, “I’m impressed. I’d heard fruit was…rare behind the Wall.”

“And so it is.” Ewrkind’s voice was low and powerful. He scowled and seemed to think for a moment before continuing. “Such is the struggle of my people. I can either serve my guests the scraps most of my fellow elves are forced to eat and have you leave hungry, or I can go to elaborate lengths to acquire the types of food that you are accustomed to, and have you think the stories you have heard of poverty and hunger are overblown. It is a question I still wrestle with. Show you how things really are, or shelter you for propriety’s sake?”

Zane waited a moment before replying. “Whatever the case, I appreciate your hospitality.” He put a grape into his mouth.

Lily did the same, wondering what the fruit had cost the elf.

“Apparently we’ll be eating alone,” Ewrkind said. “I invited some other newcomers, but it looks like they declined.”

“Do you invite all new merchants to supper?” Lily asked.

Ewrkind nodded. “I guess you could say I’ve taken it upon myself to provide a certain role in our little society. As you may know, we are allowed to have seven magistrates, but their powers are very clearly defined, and they are not allowed to overstep them. Rules from just after the war, you understand. I expect Opel wanted to make sure we wouldn’t organize and form some type of resistance against them.” He chuckled, as if the idea were absurd.

“So what do you do for your people, besides feeding random merchants?” Lily asked. She usually let Zane take the lead in these types of situations, but he hadn’t kicked her under the table yet, so she must be doing a passable job. Besides, these social skills were exactly what she needed to work on before she went out on her own. She didn’t know how much better she’d be able to get in the next two weeks, but she was going to try.

“My primary goal is restoring the pride of my people. After the…surrender—” he stumbled over the word as if it pained him to speak it, “—elvish kind lost something essential. Something that made us who we were. Our very identity.” He waved toward the window. “You’ve seen the elves out there. The way they walk with their heads down. The way they step out of the way and defer to you humans in all things, as if you are naturally better than us. Tell me, is that the way the elves in the stories behaved? Can you picture Balim the Strong bowing and scraping before the humans just after he struck King Zachary’s head off with a single blow of his axe?”

“No,” Lily said. He had an engaging way of speaking. She had to keep reminding herself not to look him in the eye. If she did that, she’d be nothing more than a puppet on his string.

Ewrkind suddenly looked ashamed. “I should apologize. I get a little worked up.”

“That’s not necessary,” Zane said.

“No, it is,” Ewrkind said. He looked out the window a long moment before continuing. “My parents’ generation is different. They remember the war. Most of them fought in it. They were involved in the decision to surrender, to resign ourselves to this ghetto. It’s different for my generation. We had no choice in the matter. We’ve never seen the world outside these walls. That option was taken from us.” He looked intently at Zane and Lily, each in turn. “You asked why I invite all the new merchants to dinner. Hospitality was the answer I gave. That’s part of it, but only a small part. I want you to carry stories of what you learned here tonight to the world beyond the Blue Wall. Mostly, I want you to understand.”

“And what would you have us understand?” Lily asked. The confidence in her own voice surprised her.

“That we are not broken,” Ewrkind said. “Not all of us. That the elvish spirit captured in story and song is not gone from this world.” He gave a sad smile. “The older generation believed humans and elves were destined to clash. That the two species were like two sides of a coin. For one species to be up, the other had to be down. Understand?”

“And you feel differently?” Zane asked.

Ewrkind chuckled. “I agree wholeheartedly that violence between our two races is inevitable and perhaps even beneficial to the advancement of both species. But I don’t agree that we are opposing forces. When my parents surrendered, they believed our kind was defeated, that we were now on the bottom side of the coin until some future, distant day centuries from now when we could once again flip the positions. I don’t believe that. I believe we can use the advancements of humanity to make our positions better, just as humanity has used so much of what elvish kind held dear. Allow me to demonstrate.”

He reached into the pocket of his jacket. Lily had to resist the urge to go for her sword.

Ewrkind pulled out an object the size of his fist. It was almost square, but for a familiar curve in the surface. It bore a stylized F. The symbol of Irving Farns.

It was a tangle. An Irving Farns tangle.

He set the object on the table in front of him, and suddenly Lily couldn’t move. She could breathe and wiggle a little, but no more than that. It was as if a heavy weight were pushing her against the chair.

She looked at Zane and saw he too was pinned to his seat. His face was calm, but there was a strained look in his eye that would have been difficult to pick out for anyone who didn’t know him as well as Lily did.

Ewrkind watched them for a moment. “Interesting. This is normally when I have to tell people to calm down. You both seem to be taking this in stride. I take it you have some experience dealing with tangles, then?”

Lily locked eyes with Zane. They’d overplayed their hand. His eyes were reassuring.

“We do,” Zane said. “I believe in the importance of self-defense.”

“I find that fascinating!” Ewrkind said. “Most of the merchants we get here aren’t the types who would be able to afford a luxury such as a tangle. Their idea of self-defense is a good dagger. And then you two show up. Well spoken. Mannered. And unfazed by an elf wielding magical objects. And all to sell one small cart of…What was it, Gabel?”

The other elf answered from near the door where he stood patiently, hands folded over his chest. “Pumpkins.”

Ewrkind smiled. “Of course. Pumpkins. And a month after the Midnight Festival. It’s curious.” He let that hang in the air for a moment. “But your business is none of mine. I merely bring it up as an interesting side note. The true purpose of using this—” he patted the tangle lovingly—“is to show you the difference between myself and the old generation of elves.”

“And that is?” Lily asked, working her mouth open just far enough to speak.

“My parents’ generation hates these so called magical devices and the abditus who create them. They see them as a betrayal. As a fouling of elvish way. But did you notice I’m still moving? That’s because your magical devices don’t work on elves.”

Lily felt her mouth drop open, at least as far as the tangle on the table allowed. She looked at Zane and saw surprise on his face, too.

“The elder elves are so fond of secrecy, they don’t even want the world to know that much,” Ewrkind said. “But why? One of humanity’s greatest classes of weapons is completely ineffective against us. But, instead of using it to fight against them, we shun these magical devices.” He leaned closer to them and spoke in a soft voice. “But not me. And not those who have embraced my message.”

“So you’ve been collecting magical devices,” Zane said. They’d known that already, of course. Ever since Dursten had told them Ewrkind had been the one to steal Farns’ greatest device.

Ewrkind nodded. “Not an easy task when it is forbidden for any visitors to carry them through the Blue Wall.” He picked up the tangle off the table, and Lily felt the force pressing her against the chair shift slightly. “Did you know that the famed abditus Irving Farns spent some time living here? He left in a hurry, leaving behind all his devices. I’ve managed to acquire most of them, but I suspect there may still be a few others out there. I’ll find them if I keep turning over stones.”

He moved the tangle closer to Zane, and Lily could see the pressure pushing against him in the way the skin on his face was being pushed back.

“The reason I brought you here,” Ewrkind said, “was so you’d know. So you’d be able to tell the others when you go back beyond the Blue Wall. Tell them we are not all cowering here in our ghetto. Tell them we will not wait here, hungry and forgotten, forever. Tell them the time of the elves is returning. They have forgotten us for too long.”

He put the tangle into his pocket, and Lily felt the weight pressing her backwards slowly disappear.

“I believe in clear intentions,” Ewrkind said. “My kind is far too interested in keeping secrets. Now, with that out of the way, shall we eat?”

Before Lily and Zane could reply, seven armed men burst through the door.

CHAPTER SIX

Throughout Ewrkind’s speech, Zane had been growing more and more nervous. This elf clearly had a reputation and a following, and his ideas were revolutionary, going against common elvish thinking for the past fifty years. But, his ideas aside, Ewrkind was dangerous for two reasons.

First, he was clearly not intimidated by humans in the way most of his peers were. He’d proven that when he’d used a tangle against them just to prove a point. In the upper crust of human society, using a tangle on a dinner guest, even in jest, would be cause enough for a duel. Granted, Ewrkind hadn’t grown up in human society, so he couldn’t be expected to know all the rules. Still, don’t use a magical weapon to incapacitate your dinner guests seemed like a universal enough truth. Ewrkind wasn’t afraid they would retaliate, and he certainly wasn’t afraid of offending them.

The second reason was that he not only collected Farns tangles, but he was also familiar with operating them. For all Zane knew, he might have some Farns thorns stashed away, too. And he and his kind were unaffected by them. That was a piece of information Zane would keep close to the chest. Ewrkind might not believe in secrets, but Zane did.

None of that would have been overly disconcerting in a simple dinner host. But the elf was more than just their host; he was their target. Zane and Lily would have to steal Farns’ device from Ewrkind. There were certain qualities Zane looked for in a robbery victim, and Ewrkind possessed none of them.

The job would have to be done, though. Zane’s freedom was on the line, and that was not something he took lightly.

After his explanation of his views of thorns and tangles, Ewrkind said, “I believe in clear intentions. My kind is far too interested in keeping secrets. Now, with that out of the way, shall we eat?”

At that moment, there was a crash as the front door burst open. Gabel was waiting near the entrance to the dining room, and he quickly pivoted, looking to see who had entered the home.

Seven men dressed in black burst into the room. Gabel, unarmed and unprepared for the onslaught, was bowled over as the men roughly shoved him aside.

Zane’s breath caught in his throat as he saw the black, robe-like outfits. That was traditional ferox garb, designed to flow with the wearer’s movements and blend into shadows. But why would seven ferox be behind the Blue Wall?

Zane was suddenly aware that he and Lily were unarmed.

He needed to take control of this situation, and he needed to do it now. He stood up.

One of the ferox, a man with stark blond hair smiled menacingly. “Ferox Halloway. Please take your seat.”

Zane squinted at him. He recognized that man. “You were apprenticed to Harlan Willis. I don’t remember your name.”

The man took a step forward. There was a sword in his hand.

Zane didn’t flinch. “I do remember that Harlan made you wait seven years before he let you take the placement exam. He didn’t have a lot of confidence in your abilities, did he?”

The ferox snarled, but Ewrkind held out a calming hand.

“Zane, please. Do as he asks.” The elf turned to the intruders. “My man Gabel spoke to you this morning, when you were posing as merchants.”

Zane looked at them more closely. One of the men was the largest ferox Zane had ever seen. He wore an eyepatch The other had a bandaged hand. Could these be the two Lily had described as Big and Ugly?

“I invited you to my home for dinner,” Ewrkind continued, “but you declined. I offered my hand in friendship, and this is how you repay me? By bursting into my home, armed to the teeth, and threatening my guests?”

The blond ferox shrugged. “We’re not the dinner party types.” He glanced at Zane. “Besides, we didn’t know who you were at the time.”

Had they followed Zane here?

Ewrkind folded his hands on the table. “I’ll ask one more time. Would you like to sit down and eat dinner with me as my guests?”

The blond ferox looked confused. “We’re not here for that. We’re here for something Irving Farns made. And I’m told you have it.”

Ewrkind sighed. “In that case, I guess this is going to go the other way.”

Quick as lightning, Ewrkind reached into his pocket and pulled out the tangle he’d used to immobilize Zane and Lily. He drew back his arm and threw it toward the doorway the men had come through. The tangle buzzed through the air like an arrow, and, as it did, it pushed aside the ferox in its path.

In the doorway, a hand shot up and caught the tangle. Gabel. He must have slipped away after the ferox shoved him. And he carried a bundle under his other arm. He set the bundle on the table and shoved it toward Ewrkind.

It was a bundle of swords. Zane’s, Lily’s, and another one, a heavy broadsword.

Ewrkind, snatched the broadsword off the table, and then looked at Zane. “I don’t usually ask my guests to fight on my behalf.”

Lily already had her sword in her hand. “You don’t have to,” she said.

Not wanting to be the only unarmed ferox at the party, Zane grabbed his own sword.

The ferox looked confused. They glanced at each other, unsure of how to proceed. These certainly weren’t the cream of the ferox crop. But they were ferox, which meant they could fight. And the odds were seven against four.

The blond ferox leapt toward Ewrkind, and, as soon as he saw him move, Zane remembered the man’s name. Rayble. Harlan had said Rayble was one of the best swordsmen he’d ever seen, and Harlan was no slouch. This was not going to be easy.

Rayble thrust his sword toward Ewrkind, and the elf barely raised his broadsword in time to block the blow. It was an awkward motion, and, though he was strong, he clearly wasn’t used to this faster style of swordplay.

Zane slipped in, engaging Rayble with his own sword.

Ewrkind grunted his thanks.

Zane risked a glance toward Lily, who was holding her own, if barely, against two other ferox, the ones Zane assumed were Big and Ugly.

Ewrkind swung his sword at one of the remaining ferox and drew first blood. The ferox screamed as the broadsword sank into his arm.

The elf turned toward Zane. “A word of warning. There were fourteen merchants this morning, not seven.”

As if on cue, seven more ferox poured into the room. Zane heard Lily curse as Big and Ugly were joined by two others.

This wasn’t working. They were going to be swarmed if they didn’t change things. Zane feigned to the right and went left. Thankfully, Rayble bit, and Zane met empty air rather than the ferox’s blade. Zane moved to Lily’s side. It was the only chance they had.

Lily glanced at him. “Twin viper?”

“Yes,” he said, and they began to move.

Twin viper was the form for two swords they’d been working on the past several weeks. Though they were new to using it, it had come easily to both of them. It used existing forms they already knew, interlocking them in a sort of pattern that allowed each person to block the other’s weak spots while allowing both to strike at unexpected and varied angles. And it was designed for situations such as this.

There was another scream as Gabel put a dagger into the throat of one ferox. That elf was fast. Ewrkind dispatched another one, too, stabbing him straight through with his hefty sword.

And Zane and Lily, they danced. They moved as one force, a single creature with two stingers. In all the years Zane had been fighting, he’d never felt quite so in sync with an ally. He somehow knew where she’d strike, and she seemed to know where he would. Their five opponents, Rayble, Big, Ugly, and two of the new arrivals, were all skilled sword fighters, yet somehow Zane and Lily were able to hold them at bay. Neither side was making much headway. But against these odds and these opponents, it was a miracle Zane and Lily were even still alive.

The world had transformed for Zane. There was nothing but the clang of steel on steel and the flash of light off blades. The fight was everything and everything was the fight. He lost all sense of time as he parried thrust after thrust from his many opponents. But somewhere deep inside, beyond the animal mind that had taken over, he knew they couldn’t keep this up much longer.

He felt the sharp sting of a sword piercing his side. He knocked the sword away and tried not to think about the fact that he’d just been stabbed.

Suddenly there was a cracking sound and someone yelled, “I found it!”

The fighters all turned toward the noise.

A ferox had broken the door off the cabinet at the end of the room. And inside were a dozen objects, all bearing the stylized F of Irving Farns. “Which one is it?” he asked.

“Who cares?” Rayble shouted. “Just take them all.”

The ferox reached into cabinet, but before his hand touched the closest object, Ewrkind’s broadsword sank into his neck, cutting halfway through. The man fell to the ground.

Ewrkind reached into the cabinet and brought out an object that looked a bit like a fire poker. He clutched it in his hand and raised it up.

The moment he touched it, Zane felt a charge in the air, like the one he felt on a hot summer day just before a thunderstorm.

“This is what you seek,” Ewrkind said. “If you wish to learn of its power, so be it.”

Suddenly Zane felt a wind whipping through his hair. Everyone had stopped fighting now and all eyes were on Ewrkind.

Zane noticed Ewrkind’s hair wasn’t moving in the breeze. Neither was Gabel’s.

Ewrkind looked at the nearest ferox, a short man with black hair, and smiled.

A flash of bright light filled the room as lightning leapt from the device in his hand. Zane was momentarily blinded, and a crisp smell filled the air. And beneath it, something else: the smell of burnt flesh. He blinked a few times and waited for his vision to clear. When it did, he saw the raven-haired ferox lying dead on the ground, a black charred spot on his chest.

“Now you understand,” Ewrkind said, “the very basic power of this device. You shall never have it.”

Rayble made a sudden, whistling sound, and, as one, the ferox all charged.

Even as he moved to assist the elf, Zane had one thought: Ewrkind had made the classic mistake made by so many before him. He’d underestimated the ferox.

Ewrkind had just enough time to send a bolt of lightning at one of the ferox, the one Lily called Ugly. He went down, but momentum kept the rest of them moving forward, even though they were temporarily blinded by the flash. They tackled Ewrkind en masse, ripping the Farns device from his hand. When one of them had it, another strange whistle split the air and the ferox sprinted for the door.

Gabel ran after them. Zane tried to move, but he found the strength had gone out of his legs. That was when he felt the blood wetting his pant leg. He suddenly felt light-headed. He looked down and saw blood gushing out of the wound in his side.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lily held tight to the cut on her shoulder. She felt hot blood seeping from between her fingers. Still, she clutched her sword in her other hand and did her best to hold it aloft. This fight was not over. The opponents had just changed.

Zane crouched next to her, his sword at his feet, blood running out of the wound in his side and down his leg.

Ewrkind stood tall, breathing heavy and black blood seeping from a dozen cuts. The wounds appeared to be superficial; he held his broadsword high.

Zane grabbed the hilt of his sword, but, before he could raise it, Ewrkind batted it away with his own sword, sending it spinning out of Zane’s reach.

Ewrkind put the tip of his sword against Zane’s neck. “You’re ferox,” the elf growled.

Zane made no reply.

Without turning away from Zane, Ewrkind said, “Young woman, unless you would like to see your friend’s blood adorn my blade, please drop your sword.”

Lily let the sword slip through her fingers to the ground.

Ewrkind guided Zane with his sword until Zane and Lily stood shoulder to shoulder.

“So you’re real name is Zane Halloway,” Ewrkind said.

Lily’s heart leapt a little at that. If he knew Zane’s reputation, would that be a good thing or a bad thing? “If you know about Zane Halloway, you know what he did to the pirate Longstrain. You know how dangerous it is to anger him.”

Ewrkind chuckled. “I have no idea who Zane Halloway is. Or the pirate Longstrain for that matter. I simply heard our attackers use his surname.”

Lily felt her face redden. Some ferox she was. How the hell had she passed her placement exam, anyway?

“What I don’t know,” Ewrkind said, “is who you are. Is Lily your real name?”

“She’s a servant,” Zane said quickly. “She’s of no consequence.”

The elf clucked his tongue. “I just saw her fight. I know better than that. It seems you two are reluctant to tell the truth. That won’t be a problem. I am skilled in retrieving truths.”

Maybe it was because of the adrenaline or the blood loss, but Lily’s head swam as the elf spoke. It was the same way she’d felt with the elf in the Oasis. His words seemed to have power over her mind, and she wasn’t even looking him in the eye.

“You know, we have stories about ferox,” Ewrkind said. “In the tales, they are always the hired thugs who assist the villain. They are killers and thieves, willing to flip sides based on who is offering the most thrones at any given moment. What I’ve seen today does nothing to make me think those tales are false.”

“Says the elf who stole all the Irving Farns-made magical devices he could get his hands on.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Zane didn’t look at her, but she could see by the way his eyes crinkled that he wasn’t pleased.

Ewrkind nodded slowly. “That’s a fair assessment. I told you before I don’t believe in secrets. So I’m going to tell you the biggest secret of all. The one the magistrates would hang me for sharing with any human. But I think the secret should be told.”

He looked back and forth between Zane and Lily. “Magic is a natural force. It’s all around us.”

Lily remembered something Jacob Von Ridden had told her. “It’s nature’s beggar, right?”

Ewrkind looked taken aback. “Quite the opposite. It’s the energy that fuels the very stars. The fact that you think that proves how little humans understand about magic. We elves have been using it for millennia. For us, it’s like a conversation. A song. We can take this power and shape it in our hands. It’s always been that way, and it’s a skill that was taught to an elf before he could walk and an education that lasted until his dying day.”

Lily noticed the was in his statement. “So it’s true what they say?” she asked. “Elves used to be able to wield magic with their bare hands? Without the aid of any devices?”

The elf smiled. “We still can. It’s just that we don’t.” He waved toward the tangles in the broken cabinet. “About five hundred years ago, you humans started making these. Objects that can guide magic in very specific ways. They are clumsy things, and from the start elvish kind loathed them. We can twist and bend and weave magic in a fluid way that makes it dance. Each spell is unique. But these devices are like using magic as a hammer. They each perform one simple task, and they force the magic into doing that task.”

Zane said, “I’ve seen some elegant thorns and tangles in my day. Especially the ones made by Farns.”

The elf paused. “I’ll admit I do respect Farns. He understood how clumsy magical devices are, and he worked to change that. But his devices are still crude things when compared to elvish magic. About fifty years ago, the war started, and the elves were…overly confident. We’d send only a fraction of our troops into battle and still emerge victorious. Then something changed. Many of my people got ill. Some died. You have to understand that death from illness among the young and middle-aged was so uncommon it shocked elvish kind to the core. The illness was resistant to magical healing, which was unheard of except among the very old. And it was spreading. More and more were getting sick each day. Then, we made a discovery.”

He turned away from Zane and Lily, as if this part was difficult to talk about. “The ones who were getting sick were the heaviest magic users. The warriors on the front lines. The doctors trying to find a magical cure. The mages who built our very society.”

“It was the magic making them sick?” Lily asked.

Ewrkind turned and looked at them, fire in his eyes. “No. It was you who were making the magic sick. During the war, your Abditus Society increased its numbers tenfold, and the number of magical devices in use increased perhaps a hundredfold. Your devices began to taint magic itself.”

Zane tilted his head. “How is that possible?”

“Think of a rusty pipe,” Ewrkind answered. “It directs the water where you would like it to go, but the water coming out the other end is brown and bitter. So it is with magic that passes through your devices.”

“So you just stopped using magic?” Lily asked.

Ewrkind nodded slowly. “Elves are an empathetic people. We can’t read each other’s thoughts like some of your old stories imply, but we can sense each other’s feelings. And we sensed the pain and suffering of those who became ill. It was enough. We stopped using magic. The elvish magistrates even outlawed its use. Elves can feel the elvish use of magic just as they can feel each other’s emotions. Any elf caught using elvish magic will be put to death.”

“So you gave up?” Lily asked. “Even without magic, I would think you could have held your own in battle.”

“Perhaps. But our spirits were broken. And, there was a plan.”

The wound in Lily’s shoulder was beginning to throb as the shock wore off. How much blood had she lost?

Ewrkind continued, “Because of our empathy and our lifespan, elves are able to take a longer view than humans. It was decided that we should surrender and allow humans to do with us as they wished. We knew that humans weren’t meant to use magic, and that they would surely use it on their enemies in more destructive ways than elvish kind could conceive.  We decided to take ourselves out of the equation, so that instead of using it on us, you would use it on each other. And that prediction seems to be accurate thus far. If my sources outside the Blue Wall are correct, Opel is on the verge of war with Tavel at this very moment, no?”

Neither Zane nor Lily responded. What were they supposed to say? They were getting information humans had wondered about ever since the war. King Edward himself probably didn’t have this information. And here Ewrkind was, giving it freely to his assumed enemies.

“Then, a few hundred years down the line, when you’ve weakened yourselves by infighting, when you’ve discounted elves as any kind of threat, we will strike. Then we will crush you, rid the world of your devices, and allow magic to cleanse itself. Over time, we can begin using it again.”

Lily shook her head. It was difficult to imagine. An entire species allowing themselves to be subjugated for the possible benefit of future generations. It was an alien concept to her human way of thinking.

“But you don’t like that plan?” Zane asked.

Ewrkind shrugged. “I don’t think it’s necessary. I think the older generation’s spirit was broken when so many died of the sickness, and they didn’t think clearly about their options. Perhaps we can’t use magic the way we used to, but we can use it the way humans do.”

Zane asked, “And what of the Farns device you were using? It seemed like it could control the weather.”

Ewrkind’s eyes lit up at the mention of the Farns device. “Ah! Irving Farns’ greatest creation. The one he created after moving here and talking to the old elves about what it was like to wield elvish magic. I’ve never used magic in the elvish way; it was outlawed before I was born. But it seems he succeeded. It doesn’t just do one thing, like shoot lightning or create wind. It controls all forces of weather. And using it…I can actually feel what the device wants to do. It is like a song.”

Lily could feel his excitement, but she had to ask. “If it’s so great, why didn’t Farns make more of them?”

Now the elf’s face fell. “The corruption of magic by human devices can’t normally be felt on an individual level. It may even be safe to use elvish magic now, if it weren’t outlawed. But using this device…I can feel the after effects. It affects magic much more powerfully than thorns or tangles or glides. When Irving realized that, he began to consider that he might be doing real, lasting damage to the universe, and he knew he had to stop. He went back to creating his thorns and tangles.”

Zane said, “It seems you know quite a lot about Farns.”

Ewrkind nodded. “My mother worked for him while he lived here. I was just a boy, but he took a liking to me. I spent many hours playing with his daughter.” His face darkened, as if the memory were painful. “I’ve told enough truths for one day. Now it’s your turn.”

He walked to the cabinet, opened it, and pulled something out.

Lily looked at Zane, and she was concerned to see his face was a few shades paler than normal. There was a growing pool of blood on the ground around his feet. As badly as Lily was hurt, Zane was hurt much worse.

Ewrkind walked back to them. He was holding something that looked like a small knife. “Of all the magical devices Irving Farns left here when he crossed back through the Blue Wall, this might be my favorite. It’s a thorn. Watch what it does.”

He spun toward Lily and stabbed her in the stomach.

Her eyes went wide and she let out a gasp. The blade felt freezing cold inside her. She looked down and was surprised to see no blood. The blade was glowing a light blue.

Ewrkind pulled out the blade and held it up. It was no longer glowing.

Lily felt no pain. Her fingers went to the spot where the knife went in.

Zane was struggling to get to his feet, trying to defend her.

She put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right! I’m not hurt. Stay there.”

Ewrkind smiled. “But that’s not the real trick. Observe.”

He stabbed her again, and again she felt a freezing sensation as the blade entered her. Although she knew it wasn’t really hurting her, she couldn’t suppress the animalistic panic.

“What is your name?” Ewrkind asked her.

She wasn’t going to answer, not when he had this strange knife stuck in her.

“Lily Rhodes,” she heard herself say.

What the hell?

“Are you a ferox?” the elf asked.

She opened her mouth, intending to stick with Zane’s story and say she was a servant. Instead, she heard herself say, “I was Zane’s apprentice. I just passed my placement exam. While I am qualified to be a ferox, I have not yet said my vows and officially become one.”

Zane was looking up at her like she was crazy, signaling with a bloody hand for her to be quiet.

Ewrkind must have seen the motion, too, because he said, “Oh, she can’t help it. This thorn makes people speak truth. Farns once told me if this got out in human society, it could destroy the world. I think he was only half joking.” He turned back to Lily. “Why did you come through the Blue Wall?”

Lily tried to think fast. She couldn’t lie. She couldn’t not answer. But maybe she could decide which truth to tell. “I came because Zane asked me to accompany him.”

Ewrkind smiled a wolfish smile. “Ah, you’re fighting it, I see. Let me restate my question. What task were you and Ferox Halloway hired to do here behind the Blue Wall?”

She felt herself speak before she could think of an alternative truth. “We were hired to find the device Irving Farns made while he was here and to bring it back out.”

Ewrkind grimaced. “And who hired you?”

This time, Lily didn’t even try to stop herself from answering. “Beth Farns.”

The elf’s mouth dropped open. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that.

Suddenly the door opened. Ewrkind snarled and spun, leaving the knife sticking out of Lily’s stomach. He grabbed his broadsword off the table.

Gabel dashed into the room. He held up both hands when he saw Ewrkind’s sword. “Easy. It’s me.”

The elf lowered the sword but kept it gripped tightly in his hands. “What happened?”

Gabel sighed. Lily noticed his left leg was soaked with blood from the knee down. “I followed them across the rooftops for about five houses. At that point, they must have realized they weren’t going to lose me. One of them turned and fought me while the others escaped.”

Lily suddenly realized Zane hadn’t spoken in a while, and he seemed all too content to let her take the lead in this conversation. That wasn’t like him. He would usually be looking for any advantage, working his way into the conversation and trying to control it to their benefit. She looked down at him and saw he was even paler than he had been a few moment ago.

“And what happened?” Ewrkind asked.

“I fought him,” Gabel said. “He was very good, but he was no elf. His body is on top of Verate’s home. We’ll have to send someone to retrieve it at some point.”

Ewrkind waved the idea away. “And the others? Did you see where they went?”

Gabel gave his head the slightest of shakes. “I’m sorry. They got away.”

Ewrkind slammed the broadsword down onto the table. “Damn it!” He spun and once again gripped the thorn in Lily’s stomach.

“You are a trained ferox,” Ewrkind said. “You are able to find things, yes?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Can you track down these ferox who stole from me?”

The truth sprang to her lips. “I believe I can. But I’m often over-confident, so it’s best to take my words with a grain of salt.”

He grimaced. “Can you take the device from them and bring it back to me?”

There was a pause, as if she were looking for the truth inside herself. “I do not know. But I think I have a fair shot at it.”

Zane groaned. “Lily, don’t agree to anything.”

Ewrkind ignored the comment. “Good enough. If I let you go and keep Zane as a hostage, will you find it and return it to me?”

Again, the truth came to her lips. “I’ll need a show of good faith. Tend to his wounds. If you do that and swear an oath to free him when I return the device to you, I will do it.”

The elf paused for a moment, then pulled the knife-shaped thorn out of Lily’s stomach. The cold sensation sent a shiver up her spine.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Gabel, please tend to Zane.”

Gabel leapt into action, ignoring his own wounds. He left for a moment, then returned with a small bag and knelt next to Zane.

“Don’t worry,” Ewrkind said, “he’s very good.” He turned back to Lily. “I need you to know I am very serious about this.” He took the knife-shaped thorn and jabbed it into his own stomach. “So you’ll know I’m telling the truth,” he said. “If you return within twenty-four hours with the device, I will let you and Ferox Halloway go. If you do not return in that time, or return empty-handed, I will kill him.”

He pulled the thorn out of his stomach and set it on the table. He turned toward the other elf. “Gabel, are you confident Ferox Halloway will survive.”

“He’ll survive,” Gabel said gruffly, not looking up from the wound.

Lily’s hand snaked out and snatched the knife-shaped thorn off the table.  She slipped it into the back of her waistband.

“Good,” Ewrkind said. “Then, Miss Rhodes, I suggest you get started.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lily started on the rooftop where Gabel had lost the ferox. She took a moment to inspect the body of the man the elf had killed. From the angle of his head in relation to his torso, it looked like his neck had been broken. Had Gabel done it with his bare hands?  In her time behind the Blue Wall, Lily had come to fear elves, but in a different way than she had before coming here. They weren’t scary in some mysterious, mystical way (well, maybe a little). She feared them as warriors. She shuddered to think what would happen if Ewrkind was successful in raising up an army of elves, not just here, but in ghettos across Opel. They might not be able to overthrow the kingdom, but they would certainly be able to get their hands very bloody in the attempt.

She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the rooftop landscape. There were two possible directions the ferox could have gone from here, but only one of them made sense, at least to Lily. The rooftop to the east was a dead end. They could have climbed down and taken to the streets, but, if it were Lily in their place, she would have wanted to put as much distance between her and her pursuers before she put herself in the relatively compromising position of descending.

And that was when it struck her. She was hunting ferox. Ferox who had received the same training she had. Who’d read the same textbooks. Zane had put his own spin on things for Lily, but the basic strategies would very likely be the same. If she considered what she would do, what all ferox were trained to do in similar situations, she might be able to figure out their destination.

Once, she came to that realization, the next part was fairly easy. She made her way west along the rooftops for four more houses. She noted the plants that grew up here and the convenient cover they provided. It was nearly dark now, the merest sliver of sunlight was all that was visible over the horizon, but when Gabel had been pursuing the ferox, the sun would have been much higher. The ferox would have run straight toward it, giving up a bit of their own visibility for the benefit of putting the sun in the eyes of their pursuer.

After four houses, she came to a place where the gap across to the next roof to the west was too wide. She would either have to turn north or descend. She didn’t have to think about it more than a moment. The ferox would have descended to street level at this point. They would have been able to see that Gabel wasn’t anywhere close to them, and this would have been the last chance to descend with a clear view of what was behind them.

So, Lily followed in their supposed footsteps and climbed down to the street.

Now came the difficult part, the part that gave her butterflies in her stomach when it involved a human, let alone elves. She was going to have to talk to people on the street, ask them if they’d seen anything. Her and her people skills. They’d be the death of her.

The only thing that gave her comfort was the knife-shaped thorn in her waistband. She knew she could make anyone tell her the truth of what they saw.

To her surprise, she didn’t need to use it. The first elf she approached, a wrinkled, elderly man sitting on his front porch, was beyond polite, keeping his head down while he talked to avoid looking her in the eye. His tone was so respectful, she felt a little bad about it. He was her elder after all, elf or not. He had indeed seen a group of ten or so humans dressed in black. They’d gone south.

It made sense. South was the direction of the Blue Wall, which seemed to be the much busier part of town. It was easier to lose pursuers in a crowd. They might end up drawing more attention as humans in a crowd of elves, but Lily was willing to bet the ferox had fallen back on the standard strategy without thinking through how to best adapt it to the world behind the Blue Wall.

And so it went. Lily asked strangers every few blocks what they’d seen. All were exceedingly respectful and she didn’t get the sense any of them were holding anything back. The only one who gave her any flack was a tall, young-looking elf. He had the fire of angry youth in his eyes, and he talked to Lily as if she were beneath him, until, in a stroke of inspiration, Lily mentioned she was the guest of Ewrkind that evening. The young elf quickly changed his attitude at that, and even offered to serve as her escort at dinner. She declined, but thanked him for telling her which way the humans had gone.

As she followed the young elf’s instructions, she turned onto a familiar street, and a chill went up her spine. She suddenly knew where the ferox were, where they had to be. To be certain, she asked an elf doing yard work what he’d seen, and he confirmed the ten humans had gone into the house near the end of the block. She quietly cursed as her suspicion was confirmed.

She slipped between houses, into the shadows, and climbed to the nearest roof. From there she made her way to the roof of the house the ferox had gone into. She was a little surprised they didn’t have anyone guarding it. They knew Zane and Lily would be after them, didn’t they?

On the other hand, maybe they’d just grown overconfident. They had defeated Zane, Lily, and two elves, after all. If they were afraid of anything, it had to be Ewrkind and the gang of angry elven youth he could bring down on them.

She mentally went over the floor plan of the house, figuring out where the hallway with the purple walls would be, and which window belonged to the small bedroom at the end of that hall. When she had it, she climbed down to the windowsill and peered inside.

Dursten appeared to be alone. And he was holding the Farns device, the one that controlled weather.

She raised the window and slipped inside. Dursten was so focused on the device in his hand he didn’t even notice her enter.

“Do not scream,” she said as the cold steel of her sword touched his neck.

It was still surprising to Lily how many people responded to that order by screaming. She’d yet to figure out anything better to say, though.

Dursten did an admirable job. He stiffened and let out a tiny yelp, but he didn’t scream.

“Put down the device,” Lily said.

He set it gently on the table.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “How’d you get mixed up with them?”

He looked up at her for the first time, and she saw tears in his eyes.

“They came shortly after you left today. They said they’d been sent by Beth Farns to retrieve her father’s device.”

“They lie,” Lily said, but part of her wondered. The woman hated Zane, and with good reason. Would it be so unlikely she’d send a competing team of ferox after them? But fourteen ferox? Lord, Lily didn’t want to think of the cost of such a venture. She knew Beth Farns had some money, but she also knew the woman was concerned for the future. It seemed unlikely she’d spent a good chunk of her remaining fortune on this.

There was anger in Dursten’s voice when he spoke. “They told me you were eating dinner with Ewrkind. After I told you he stole from me, you broke bread with him.”

“We were getting information to better prepare ourselves to take it back from him.”

The old man nodded sadly, as if he’d expected her to say nothing less. “You both tell me you’re working for Miss Farns. You both tell me you’ll take the device back to her. Who do I believe?”

Lily grimaced. She didn’t have time for a debate. “It doesn’t matter. I’m the one with the sword to your throat.”

Dursten sighed. “Fair enough. You’ll want to hurry, though. They only brought it back here because I promised them one of the other three Farns tangles I have left if they’d let me hold it for just five minutes. This device is the reason Farns came here, ergo it’s the reason I came here. My life is so different because he wanted to build this thing, and because he wanted to hide it away. If only he could have brought himself to destroy it, I would have been able to leave with him.”

Lily thought for a long moment. She was afraid of what the ferox would do to Dursten when they found he’d lost the device, but she couldn’t fight all of them. All she could do was give him the best chance possible. Which, now that she thought of it, would also give her the best chance of plumbing a bit more information out of this debacle.

“Listen close,” she said. “I’m going out the window. When I’m gone, count to thirty, then start screaming that the device has been stolen. Tell them I took it, tell them I threatened to kill you and you had no choice, understand?”

He nodded.

For all she knew, they might still take it out on him, but she had the feeling they would be too busy pursuing her. Besides, they were ferox. She had to believe they lived by the same code Zane had taught her.

She climbed out the window, moving quickly up the onto roof and down the other side of the house, keeping her own thirty-count in head as she went. She looked in the first-floor window. There were five ferox in this room and they were all sitting, so she must have beat Dursten’s thirty-count. Despite their positions, she could see tension in their postures. She could hardly blame them. They’d stolen from a charismatic leader trying to start an uprising, one who they knew from personal experience wasn’t afraid of showing his enemies the pointy end of a broadsword, and now they were in the home of one of the only other humans behind the Blue Wall. It wouldn’t be long before Ewrkind came looking for them here.

She slipped a slim knife out of her boot and used it to quickly unlock the window.

A moment later, she heard a muffled shout, and all the ferox jumped to their feet.

Lily took a deep breath. They’d be searching for her on the roof and around the perimeter of the house, but they wouldn’t expect to find her in room they’d just left. As soon as the last ferox was out of the room, she wriggled through the window and tucked herself away behind the open door to the hallway.

She could see out the window from her vantage point, and, just as she’d hoped, over the next few minutes the ferox widened the perimeter, getting farther and farther from the house. She should go. She could slip past them now that they were spread out, and the Farns device seemed to weigh a ton in her satchel. It was foolish to risk everything by waiting here.

But she had to know.

It was only another minute until she heard approaching footsteps, moving fast and confidently through the hallway. Just as the steps passed her, she dashed through the doorway, grabbing the ferox around the neck from behind. He yelped in surprise and fear as she stabbed the knife-shaped thorn into his neck. She recognized the pale blond hair. It was Rayble.

“Who are you working for?” she asked.

The answer came quickly. “Jacob Von Ridden.”

She froze. Of all the possible answers she had considered, that wasn’t one of them. What was really going on here?

She gulped hard and spoke again. “How long have you been working for him?”

“Since Charles Danum disappeared. He hired us to follow you and Halloway.”

She pursed her lips. She could only risk another moment or two, so she had to make her next questions count. “You had people at Harrison Oliver’s house before I even got there. How did you know?”

He chuckled. “Come on. You think Von Ridden and the Farns woman aren’t working together?”

Lily’s blood went cold. “But why? What does Jacob want?”

There was a slight pause before he answered. “I don’t know, not for sure, but whatever-the-hell you’re doing to me makes me feel compelled to speculate. Von Ridden says it’s to get the Farns device. But I think he wants to open communications with Ewrkind. You have any idea how many thrones there are to be made here? Control of the goods moving in and out of here would bring Von Ridden a lot of thrones. And with him, it’s usually about thrones.” Another pause. “But it’s never really about thrones, is it? It’s about what the thrones can bring. Power. Whether he wants the lightning or the thrones, at the end of the day, it’s about power. And revenge. Jacob Von Ridden really doesn’t like your man Halloway.”

“Yes, I got that impression as well.” She twisted the knife-shaped thorn in his neck ever-so-slightly. It wouldn’t hurt, she knew, but it would send a strange coldness shooting through him. “If you follow me, I will kill you.” She whispered this last part in his ear. The threat wouldn’t stop him from following, she knew, but maybe it would give him pause and give her just enough of an edge to get away.

She pulled out the knife and kicked him hard in the back of the knee. If the threat didn’t slow him down, that would. She turned and sprinted to the window, pulled it open, and slipped through.

Lily made her way through the neighborhood quickly but carefully, weaving into and out of shadows, never exposing herself to view for more than a few seconds. It took her twice as long as it should have to reach Ewrkind’s home, and she cursed every step of the way. The ferox knew where she would be going, and it wouldn’t be long before they went there looking for another fight. Lily needed to get Zane and leave.

When she arrived at Ewrkind’s, she realized she didn’t need to worry about ferox. A group of thirty elves, most of them young and all of them armed, stood in the streets around Ewrkind’s home.

She approached slowly, hands open and turned toward them in the least threatening manner possible. Still, as she reached them, rough hands grabbed her and shoved her toward the door.

***

After Lily left, Zane sat on the floor for a long time, feeling the throbbing pain in his side and wondering what would become of him. Gabel worked on him silently and efficiently. Zane liked the pain, as it reminded him he was still alive. Slowly, the fog in his head started to lift, and he began to consider his position. A darkness came over his soul.

Zane didn’t see any possible way this could end well. He was injured and at the mercy of captors who could physically best him in his current condition ten times out of ten. Lily was off trying to steal the Farns device from ten ferox, including the master swordsman Rayble. It wasn’t that the task was impossible; he knew if anyone could do it, it was her. It was just that she was prideful about her work in the blandest of circumstances. Now, with Zane’s life at stake, how far would she go? Zane knew the answer. She’d go as far as she needed to. Even if that meant going over the edge of sanity. Lily had many admirable traits, but restraint wasn’t one of them.

At least she’d spit in their faces as she died, if it came to that.

And what if she succeeded? They return the Farns device to Ewrkind and, what, he lets them go? Seemed unlikely. And even if he did, the only thing that awaited Zane outside the Blue Wall was prison when he failed to return the device to Beth Farns. At least Lily would go free. Her name wasn’t on the contract. She’d be allowed to speak her vows and start a new life as a ferox. Maybe the Ferox Society would even have her take his place in Barnes. He hoped not. She deserved a fresh start.

At some point, Gabel finished stitching and bandaging Zane. More elves arrived, and some of them removed the bodies of the dead ferox. Elves gathered around Ewrkind and listened to his words as if they were spoken by the king himself. Ewrkind spoke of revenge. He spoke of the ferox repaying his hospitality with betrayal. Zane barely listened.

After a long while, there was some loud activity outside, and some shouting. Among them, Zane heard a familiar voice. Lily!

A moment later three elves escorted her into the room. One of them had her by the neck. Zane started to stand, but an elf behind him roughly pushed him back down.

Ewrkind stood and looked at Lily. “That was…much faster than I expected. Do you have it?”

Lily shook her head briskly. “It’s in a safe place. But you won’t be getting it until we have some assurances. Let us leave. One of your men may accompany us. We’ll give him the device and be on our way.”

Ewrkind’s face was stone. “You disappoint me. I was clear when I instructed you not to return without the device. I think I was also clear on the penalty.” He turned to the elf standing behind Zane. “Kill Ferox Halloway.”

“No, wait!” Lily took a deep breath and reached into the satchel. She pulled out the Farns device and tossed it to Ewrkind. The elf caught it and smiled.

Lily just scowled.

Zane arched an eyebrow, impressed at her restraint.

“Impressive,” Ewrkind said as he turned the device this way and that as if inspecting it for damage.

“Those ferox weren’t too happy,” Lily said. “They’re probably on their way here to try to kill us again.”

“I hope so,” Ewrkind said. He tapped his chin for a moment.

Zane waited. Whatever was coming was bad. There were at least ten elves in this room, likely Ewrkind’s inner circle, with plenty more outside. Ewrkind wouldn’t want to look weak in front of them. He couldn’t afford to.

“I will let one of you go,” Ewrkind said, a slight smile playing on his face. “The other one, I’ll kill myself.”

Lily opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Zane snarled at her. “Shut up, Lily!” He spun toward Ewrkind. “She goes free. That’s our final decision.”

“No!” Lily shouted.

Zane stared at her, trying to say with his eyes everything he didn’t have time to say with his lips. It wasn’t chivalry or love or honor that was leading him to do this, at least not fully. It was common sense. She had the possibility of a life outside the Blue Wall. He did not. It was as simple as that.

He spoke in as soft a voice as he could manage. “Lily, if you’ve ever had any respect for me, let me do this now and don’t argue.”

Zane pushed himself to his feet. The room spun for a moment, so he squeezed his eyes shut until it stopped. Then he opened them and looked around. His sword was not in the place he’d dropped it. One of the elves had probably taken it. This would have to be done with his fists, then.

He could do this. He could kill without his sword, even kill an armed man. Hadn’t that been how he’d made his name when he’d taken down the pirate Longstrain?

He turned toward Ewrkind and raised his fists. “You want to kill me? Here I am.”

Ewrkind raised his massive broadsword. It took everything within Zane, but he didn’t flinch.

Slowly, a wide smile appeared on Ewrkind’s face. “So you are a man of honor, then. Let me ask you something. You have honor, yet you kill for thrones. How do you reconcile this?”

Zane answered immediately. “I don’t. That’s the secret. I don’t tell myself the lie that I’m a good man. The war between good and evil wages within me, as within all men. I deny the existence of neither.”

Ewrkind nodded. He looked around the room at the elves. ““I have long told you there are some among the humans with honor. Some of you doubted. Look no further than this man to have your doubts erased.” He looked down at his broadsword for a long moment before continuing. “When the war comes, we will not have the luxury of sparing our enemy just because he happens to be noble. We cannot judge our opponents on their individual character, rather we must judge them on their character as a nation. And the nation of Opel has failed this test.” He paused. “But we are not at war. Please clear the room. I’d like to talk to Zane and Lily alone.”

The elves grumbled, but they filed out of the room. Only Gabel paused a moment at the door before he, too, exited.

When only Zane, Lily, and Ewrkind remained, the elf said, “I will let you live. And I will let you return the Farns device to Beth.”

Zane felt his mouth drop open. He dared not speak lest the elf change his mind. He looked at Lily and saw the same shock on her face.

“Irving wanted the device hidden away,” Ewrkind continued. “I’m sure his daughter will see to his wishes. Know that it is only because of her that you live. I have fond memories of playing with her as a child. She was the first, and, before tonight, only evidence I ever had that humans weren’t uniformly vile. As such, I hesitate to kill anyone in her employ.”

Zane thought that Beth might not mind overly much if a warrior elf were to run him through with a broadsword, but he certainly wasn’t going to say it.

“There is one other thing,” Ewrkind said. “A favor.”

An elf asking a favor, just like in the stories. Zane glanced at Lily and saw her eyes were wide.

“There is a man beyond the Blue Wall named Marcus Yurke. I would like you to kill him.”

Zane took a deep breath. Finally some familiar territory. “Are you going to tell us why?”

Ewrkind nodded. “We are to receive an allotment of fresh produce each week here behind the Blue Wall. As a child, it was the highlight of my week. Real fresh fruits and vegetables. It’s difficult to describe how important that is to us. A few years ago, Marcus Yurke was put in charge of the task. Since then the produce has been old and often inedible. It has had a significant impact on the morale of the elves here.” He squinted at Zane. “I want him dead. Hopefully that will serve as warning enough to whoever takes up the job after him. You can do this?”

“Consider it done,” Zane said.

Ewrkind nodded briskly. “Good. Then farewell to you both. I hope that when the war comes, I have the honor of holding the blade that slays you.”

They were shown the door, and, as they left, Gabel made it clear they would be wise to cross through the Blue Wall immediately. He received no argument from either Zane or Lily.

They were almost to the Blue Wall when Lily turned to Zane and smiled. “Do you think he’s going to be angry when he figures out I stole that knife-shaped truth thorn?”

CHAPTER NINE

They waited until morning to visit Beth Farns. Lily had wanted to get it over with as soon as they crossed back over into Barnes, but Zane had ruled against it. He said he was done startling Miss Farns in the night. Their business could wait until the next day.

Lily told Zane how she’d retrieved the Farns device, and he listened with interest, asking questions of technique only another ferox would think to ask. However, she ended her version of the tale after she hid in the room while the ferox searched for her. She wasn’t sure exactly why she left out the interrogation of Rayble and the information he’d given her about Beth Farns working with Jacob Von Ridden. Part of it was that Zane seemed so happy. He’d been sure things wouldn’t work out this time, that he’d end up either dead or in prison. Now, alive and in possession of the device they needed to fulfill his contract, he was uncharacteristically giddy.

Things were complicated enough. If she shared what she knew, he might refuse to return the device to Beth Farns. He might decide he preferred prison to helping advance Von Ridden’s mysterious agenda.

In the morning, she considered telling him, but her indecisiveness was a decision of its own. Before she knew it, it was afternoon, and they were standing in Beth Farns’ parlor, handing her the device.

Zane had just finished giving her the high-level rundown of the events of the previous day. He concluded by saying, “Ewrkind respected your father’s wishes, and he knew that you’d respect them, too. That’s why he let us return the device.”

Beth sighed. “I remember him. Less fondly than he remembers me, apparently. The temper on that elf! He’d yell and scream if I so much as touched his toys. And to think, he’s now raising an army! It makes me shudder.”

She picked up the Farns device and looked at it for a long time. “I remember this, too. Making it was so important to my father that he put our lives at risk and forced me to live in that ghetto. And then, when he finally finished it, all he did was hide it. It’s not surprising. He hid me away for long enough. It took my whole life to convince him to let me sell some of his creations.” She held up a finger. “I’m not like him. I won’t hide. This device is going up for auction.”

Lily started to speak, but Zane gave her a quick shake of the head.

He was right. It was their place to do the job they’d been hired to do, not to judge their clients. That was what it meant to be a ferox.

After a moment, Zane asked,” Is our contract fulfilled to your satisfaction?”

“Yes,” she said. “Honestly, I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t be able to do it so I could have you thrown in prison. But I can’t say I’m unhappy with this resolution, either. Let’s sign off that the contract is complete.”

She pulled open a drawer in her desk and reached inside. But instead of paper, she pulled out a candle. She paused for just a moment, then said, “I’ve never shown this to anyone. I think it might be my favorite.”

Something on the candle caught Lily’s eye. Near the base of it, there was a stylized F.

It wasn’t a candle at all. It was a thorn.

Beth lifted it. Whatever the hell that thorn was, she was pointing it at Zane.

Then, everything seemed to happen at once.

Lily’s sword was in her hand, and she was thrusting. The tip sank into Beth Farns’ chest.

Something like a flash of light leapt from the tip of the candle, and the chair behind Zane turned to ash. The thorn had missed him by mere inches.

The candle fell from Beth’s hand and landed on the desk with a thud.

Lily’s eyes went wide, and time slowed down again. She suddenly had no idea what to do. It was her sword sticking out from under that woman’s collarbone. In all the time she’d spent thinking about whether she could kill, she’d never once considered what she’d do in the moments after she finally did.

A rasping sound that might have been a pained laugh and might have been a moan came from Beth Farns’ throat. Then she said in a weak voice, “Stupid girl. Von Ridden has the contract.”

For another moment, Lily couldn’t move. And then she did. She pulled the sword out of Beth and stabbed her again, this time in the heart, finishing the job.

She pulled out the sword and looked at it for a long moment. It was smeared with dark blood. Should she wipe it off before putting it away? And, if so, what should she wipe it on?

Somewhere deep inside, Lily knew she was experiencing shock at having killed for the first time, but the thought seemed distant and unimportant.

Suddenly a sound like a growl come from Zane. Then his sword was in his hand. He brought the hilt down hard on the candle-shaped thorn, and it broke into two pieces. He smashed the pieces, bringing the hilt down again and again, until there was nothing left of the candle but a pile of dust.

The burst of violence brought Lily out of her stupor. She said, “Zane, should we—”

But he wasn’t finished. Before she could complete her question, Zane brought down the hilt of his sword again, this time on the other Farns device, the one that controlled the weather. Lily watched in silence while he turned Irving Farns’ greatest accomplishment to rubble.

When he was done, he was breathing heavily. “Farns should have done that years ago,” he said. “It’s insanity. He makes a magical device and doesn’t use it. He doesn’t want anyone to use it, but he doesn’t destroy it.” He looked up at Lily, and there was fire in his eyes. “This is what comes of not accepting what you are. All these little compromises. I’ll make a terrible weapon to satisfy my own curiosity, but, it’s fine, because I’ll hide it when I’m done.”

Lily took a step back. She’d never seen Zane like this.

He slammed his hand down on the desk, sending a cloud of dust into the air.“If you’re going to create a weapon that can burn down the world, then let the damn world burn down! Don’t do it halfway.”

“Zane,” Lily said. She put a light hand on his shoulder. “What do we do? About what she said?”

He brushed her hand away. “It doesn’t matter, don’t you see that? There’s nothing we can do. He’s won!”

“No,” Lily said. “There must be something. There’s always something.”

“Not this time. Jacob Von Ridden has the contract, the open contract, not signed as complete. And now Beth Farns is dead. Her servants know we’re here. It’ll be easy enough to put us at the scene of the murder. Do you know what that means?”

Lily knew. A ferox who killed his employer while under contract would not go to prison. He’d be hanged. “But I was the one who killed her.”

“No, you weren’t,” Zane said flatly. He put both hands on the desk as if he needed the support to remain standing. “I was the one who killed her. Get that straight right now. You’re still legally my apprentice and my responsibility. If you killed her, we both hang.” He looked up at her, and his eyes were calmer now, more like the Zane Halloway she knew. “But my name is the only one on the contract. If I killed her, you walk free. So that’s how it happened. Understand?”

She understood. God, how she understood.

“So we steal the contract,” Lily said. “We find out where Von Ridden’s keeping it and we steal it.”

He shook his head. “Jacob has the royal armory of magical devices at his disposal, and I’m willing to bet he’s putting a good portion of it to use protecting that document. He’s probably had witnesses read it by now so they can testify to its contents in the event it is destroyed. There is no way out of this one, Lily.”

If only she hadn’t killed Beth. But what was the alternative? Let her use that thorn on Zane?

But no. There had been alternatives, and plenty of them. She realized that now. She could have stabbed Beth in the hand, or slashed at her arm, or given her any of a dozen non-lethal injuries that would have caused her to drop the candle. So why hadn’t she? Why hadn’t she even thought of any of them until now? Why had she been so quick to kill?

Maybe she’d wanted to kill Beth Farns. Maybe she’d just been waiting for a reason.

“So that’s it?” Lily asked. “You hang?”

Zane chuckled, but there was fury in his voice as he spoke. “If only it were that simple. That’s not how Jacob Von Ridden operates.” He straightened up, picked up his sword, and slid it into its sheath. “Jacob will let me know he has the contract, and then it will begin. With that kind of leverage, I’ll be little more than his errand boy. He’ll force me to kill anyone who gets in his way. He’ll find jobs he knows will be revolting to me, and he’ll make me do them. He’ll send me after his enemies and their wives and their children. If I refuse, he’ll have me hanged. If I comply, he’ll use me until he grows tired of the game, and then he’ll have me hanged.” He turned and walked toward the doorway. “And that will be the rest of my life.”

They exited the room and found a concerned maidservant waiting in the next room.

Zane turned to her, his face expressionless. “I’m sorry. I had to kill your mistress.” With that, he turned and walked out the front door.

When they reached the street, Lily said, “Zane, I’m sorry. If I hadn’t killed her—”

“Please,” Zane said, cutting her off. His voice was softer now, as if he was already resigning himself to his fate. “You saved my life. I can’t hold you accountable for the consequences of that. I won’t. The things you’ve been through…I pushed you too hard. I asked you to take the placement exam far too soon. I took you into the damn elvish ghetto. We’re in this position because my past with Von Ridden caught up to me. It was never you. You only ever did what I trained you to do, and your instincts saved my life.”

Lily wasn’t so sure. She said, “I think I’d like to walk a while. Alone.”

He paused for a moment, then his eyes went wide. “Yes. I’m sorry, I forgot. That was your first.”

She nodded.

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “I need some time to think.”

That was something he could understand, she knew. Isolation and thinking were two of his favorite pastimes.

“I’ll see you at home,” he said.

She didn’t answer.

He turned north up the street, so she went south.

She walked for hours, thinking so deeply she sometimes would look up and have no idea what part of the city she was in. She already knew what she needed to do; she just needed to convince herself there were no other valid options.

It was nearly dawn when she came to her final decision. The only thing left to figure out was how to set her affairs in order before she left. She briefly considered visiting her brother to say goodbye, but she decided against it. The less she brought him into her world, the better for him.

Finally, she made her way home to Zane’s house and snuck in through a second story window. She smiled at the memory of how the Eakhart children had caught her sneaking out so many times, and the way Zane had paid them for doing so. If they could only see what she was about to do.

She gathered her scant belongings and left Zane’s home for the last time. Then she headed for the capitol city of Langton.

CHAPTER TEN

It was disturbingly easy to sneak into the castle. Lily used the hidden entrance where she and Zane had been brought in the first day they’d arrived here, led by Faraday. The lock was no harder to pick than any other lock.

It made Lily a little concerned for the safety of her king.

She crept into Jacob’s quarters and had the knife stuck in his side before he even woke up. He let out a high-pitched squeal when she stabbed him.

Once he realized he wasn’t bleeding, he said, “Lily, I’m very glad to see you.”

That disturbed her, mostly because of the truth thorn sticking out of his side.

The second thing he said was, “I’m impressed with the way you dealt with the ferox behind the Blue Wall. Zane isn’t worthy of your potential.”

She tried to clear her mind. “What do you intend to do with the contract between Zane and Beth Farns?”

She could have tried to discuss this with him civilly before bringing out the thorn, but she didn’t have the patience. Not today.

The words came quickly and without thought from Jacob. She could tell by the look on his face that his own words surprised him. “I intend to coerce him into my service. The king is already fond of him because of the Charles Danum job. I can manipulate him into sending Zane on more jobs. Dangerous jobs. Then I’ll use the contract to control the way Zane does the jobs. I’ll put him in more and more dangerous and stressful situations until he breaks. Then I’ll reveal to the king that Danum is still alive and that Zane allowed for his escape. Then he’ll die the traitor’s death.”

Lily’s blood went cold. “Why? Why in the hell would you do something like that?”

Jacob looked at her strangely, as if he didn’t understand the question. “Because I want him to suffer, of course.”

Lily’s hand clutched the knife. “I’m going to kill you. How’s that sound?”

Jacob chuckled softly. “Like a very bad idea, indeed. If I die, I’ve left instructions for Zane’s broken contract to be released to the authorities. He’ll hang. But the more immediate concern for you is my ring.” He held up his left hand, showing her the large ring on his pinkie finger. “This is a tangle. I activated it a few moments ago. It has alerted the King’s Guard that there’s an intruder is in this room. If I don’t emerge and call them off in the next few minutes, they will burst in here and kill you. So you’d better convince me to talk them out of it. I’m all ears.”

Lily’s heart was racing. She thought for a long moment. “Why do you hate Zane so much?”

Jacob actually paused for a moment before answering. She wondered how he did that with the knife in his side. “He took something from me. The most important thing. I was a man of rising importance in the Abditus Society. And I was in love with our former mentor, Rebecca Waters. He turned them all against me with his lies.”

She nearly burst out in horrified laughter. “That’s all it was? Only love?”

“If you think love an insignificant motivation, you’ve clearly yet to experience it.” He smiled up at her. “The clock’s ticking, dear. I’m waiting for you to talk me out of letting you die. I hope you do, because I genuinely like you.”

She thought for another long moment before answering. “He took something from you, right? What if you take something from him?”

“And what might that be?”

“Me.”

His eyes widened.

“I’ll become your apprentice,” she said. “I won’t even tell him why. I’ll just leave. It’ll break his heart. But you have to promise to leave him alone. And you have to destroy that contract.”

“No,” he said immediately. “I’ll leave him alone. I won’t contact him, and, if the king wants to use him for a job, I’ll talk him out of it. Zane is safe from me as long as you remain loyal. But I have to keep the contract. For my own safety.” A slight smile played across his face. “To ensure you won’t sneak into my room at night and stab me.” He glanced down at the knife in her hand. “And I want that thorn for the royal armory.”

She bit her lip, considering whether there was anything else she could do, any other way out of this.

“Agreed,” she said finally. “I’ll be your apprentice.”

He smiled and held out his hand, palm up. For a moment, she thought he wanted to shake, but then she got it. She pulled out the knife-shaped thorn and handed it to him.

He turned it over in his hand, admiring it. “A thing of beauty.”

Then he stabbed her with it.

“Will you go with me to the Ferox Society and renounce your membership?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Will you be my good and true apprentice, and put your full effort toward your abditus studies?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good. I’ll accept no less.” He narrowed his eyes. “Will you seek to do me any harm?”

She looked him dead in the eyes. “Not as long as you keep your word in regards to Zane Halloway.”

“Good enough.” He pulled out the knife and smiled. “Now then, there’s work to be done. You’ll have to spend a year or so in the Abditus Academy before you begin your apprenticeship. I’ll be able to get you out of the rest. We can talk later about what you think your focus area might be. I’m hoping you’ll take to shimmers, of course, but it’s your choice in the end.”

He held out his hand. Lily felt a chill go through her as she shook it.

“Lily Rhodes, let me unofficially welcome you to the Abditus Society.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “Now then, let’s talk to the King’s Guards waiting outside before they break down the door and kill you.”

The next morning, they made their way to the Ferox Society where Lily renounced her membership, forever forfeiting the possibility of becoming a ferox. Then she began her abditus training.

***

Lily had been missing for almost a week when Zane got the letter. It was a week Zane spent wracked with worry and searching every branch of his network of connections for any clue to her whereabouts. So far he’d come up empty, and he was beginning to think he’d have to expand his search outside of the city of Barnes. But where else would she go? She was to say her vows as a ferox in little more than a week’s time. He couldn’t imagine she’d leave voluntarily.

He knew he’d pushed her too hard. Making her take the placement exam. Giving her constant talks about all the responsibilities that would fall on her after she spoke her vows. And then, making her kill Beth Farns.

True, he hadn’t technically ordered her to kill Ms. Farns. But he hadn’t killed Beth Farns himself, thus forcing Lily into that situation. He wondered if somewhere deep down inside he’d known what she’d do. Maybe he wanted to be there when she killed for the first time. He remembered all too well the terribly isolating circumstances of his own first kill.

The letter came mid-morning. Hand-delivered mail was rare enough that the Eakhart children from next door gathered excitedly around the courier, asking him all sorts of questions.

Zane took the letter up to his study and sat in his favorite chair, the one he sat in while listening to potential clients’ stories. He set the letter on his lap and looked at it for a long moment.

She wasn’t dead. That’s what this letter meant. He recognized her handwriting. She wasn’t dead. The relief washed over him in a physical shudder.

But the sealed envelope raised many other questions, two chief among them. One, why was she sending something as formal as a letter? And, two, how could she afford the cost of a courier to deliver it? A dozen possible reasons went through his mind, including the idea that it could be a suicide note (what if she was dead!?), but he pushed them aside. No need to speculate when the answer was right in front of him.

He tore open the envelope and unfolded the thick, cream-colored paper. There were only a few  paragraphs and a postscript, all written in her neat, practical handwriting.

To Zane & All Concerned Parties With Which He Wishes To Share This Note,

I hereby renounce my status as a ferox-in-training and any future ambition to the position of ferox. At the time of this writing, I have already delivered verbal notice to the Ferox Society Great Hall. I have been accepted as a member-in-training of the Abditus Society, and the abditus Jacob Von Ridden has agreed to take me on as his apprentice upon my graduation from the Abditus Academy.

On a personal note, I wish to express that it was not any negligence on the part of my mentor which led me to this decision. Let any who doubt that remember I passed my placement exam years ahead of schedule thanks to his excellent instruction. I have come to realize my destiny lies with the Abditus Society, and none but destiny can be faulted in this decision.

Let this also serve as notice that I do not wish to be contacted by the Ferox Society or any of its representatives, including Zane Halloway, as I turn my mind to my abditus studies.

I do, however, still intend to be paid by Zane Halloway for the assassination of Elizabeth Farns. My price is twenty-five thrones, payable in care of Jacob Von Ridden. I still don’t kill for free.

Respectfully,

Lilian X. Rhodes

The postscript was written in a much more hurried hand, as if she’d jotted it on the page a moment before stuffing the letter into the envelope.

Zane—If you’ve ever had any respect for me, let me do this now and don’t argue.

He refolded the letter with a shaky hand and put it back in the envelope. Though he didn’t know it, he wouldn’t see Lily again for two years.

He sat for nearly an hour with the letter of his lap, considering what it could mean and what had led her to make this decision. The facts were still cloudy, but, by the end of the hour, his mind was clear. He’d trust that Lily knew what she was doing. And he would have his revenge on Jacob Von Ridden.

BOOK FOUR: FLAMES AND WATER

TWELVE YEARS AGO

Zane huddled in the shadows. He was soaked with rain, shivering, and terrified. But he also felt a bit of something else: giddiness. Because, against all odds, he’d found his query. He’d found the pirate Henry Longstrain.

He’d taken the job out of desperation. His mentor, old Jo Vernon, had warned him to be patient, to work his way up the ferox ladder slowly. But Zane hadn’t listened. He wanted fame. He wanted recognition. It was partly because he was older than his peers. Zane was twenty-five, and this was already his second career. And after the way his time as an abditus apprentice had gone, he sorely needed a fresh start. So he’d trained as a ferox, apprenticed under a solid, if not exactly innovative, mentor, passed his placement exam, and opened shop in an isolated, northern city called Gippen. And he’d done his duty. He’d served his community by tracking down runaways, recovering stolen merchandise, and—God help him—finding missing pets. When one of the locals had hired him to venture beyond the famed Blue Wall in Barnes to recover an item stolen by elves, Zane had hopped at the chance. Of course, it had turned out that the elves had not, in fact, stolen the farmer’s family property. Zane did eventually track down the perpetrator, but the damage to his reputation had been done. He’d made a novice mistake. His client had blamed elves, and Zane had believed him.

So when this opportunity had come along, Zane had been faced with a dilemma: take another seemingly impossible job in the hopes of salvaging his reputation in the Ferox Society, or play it safe. If he took the job and failed, it would hurt his standing in the society even more. But, if he somehow succeeded…

It had seemed impossible two weeks ago, yet here he was. He was at the pirate Longstrain’s hideaway, a place a myriad of other ferox and lawmen in the nation had been unable to locate, and Longstrain was inside.

Zane would have been ecstatic if he hadn’t been chained to a tree.

The reason the others hadn’t found Longstrain was they were looking in the wrong places. He was a pirate, so they searched near the sea. They searched the island chain off Opel’s east coast. They searched harbor towns and old, abandoned lighthouses. But they didn’t search here, in the mountains of western Opel, as far from the sea as was possible in the nation.

Zane’s quest had started two months ago when a man named Collins had approached him with a nearly unbelievable story. According to Collins, his twenty-year-old daughter Melody had run off and married the pirate Longstrain. And he wanted Zane to find her.

Zane nearly slammed the door in the worried father’s face. Longstrain had such a well-known appetite for nuptials that every young woman who ran away from her parents’ home was rumored to have taken up with him. But in Collins’ case, there was…not proof exactly, but evidence. The family had recently visited the coastal city of Arrow, an upscale harbor town Longstrain was known to frequent. Her father had discovered a letter in her room after she’d left, a note full of sentiments that would have caused the poor farmer to blush even if it hadn’t been addressed to his daughter. The letter was signed Henry.

Not exactly iron-clad proof. But something about the situation rang true to Zane, even more so after he’d read the letter himself. He decided to take the job. It shocked him how quickly he came to the decision. In accepting the job to go after Longstrain, he was putting more than his reputation on the line. Plenty of ferox had gone after the pirate, many of them with harder evidence in hand. Most of them came up empty; the rest shared the current status of missing in action. There were rumors Longstrain made financial arrangements with pursuers who came too close, that he offered them so much gold it was impossible for them to refuse, but Zane didn’t believe that. He believed every one of those ferox was dead.

He traveled to Arrow and began his investigation, not searching for Longstrain’s whereabouts, but for Melody’s. The pirate had been at this a long time and he was likely very careful. The young woman, on the other hand, was not only new to clandestine activities, but was also likely nervous and excited about her new life of adventure. That type of thing would inevitably lead to mistakes.

Zane started at the inn where Melody’s family had stayed, and from there was able to find her favorite shops, and from there her most recent order, placed by post, and the ship it was to be delivered to. From there, he had tailed a pirate ship through choppy waters, followed the disembarking crew, and tailed them for a week through the forests of central Opel and into the mountains. It hadn’t been easy. Far from it. But it had been possible. And that was what surprised Zane.

He’d attempted a night entry into the house in the mountains, the place he expected Longstrain and Melody were enjoying a honeymoon. He was careful and quiet, using every ounce of skill he’d gained in his short time as a ferox. And still, he was quickly spotted and captured.

Which was how he’d come to be here, chained to a tree on the side of a mountain and shivering in the rain.

The one bright spot in the current situation was that Longstrain had made a mistake: he’d left Zane alone. Zane needed to take advantage of however long he had before the pirate returned.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before Zane saw the glow of an approaching torch. He did his best not to look directly at the light. The torchbearer’s night vision would be shot, so Zane had to protect his own; it was one of his few advantages.

When the torchbearer was ten feet away, he stopped and gave a smile so disarming, Zane suddenly understood how he’d managed to get a couple dozen of the nation’s most beautiful women to marry him.

Henry Longstrain couldn’t have been more than five and a half feet tall. He was wider than Zane, and built of solid muscle. But when he smiled, his overall demeanor changed from frightening to puppy dog.

He looked at Zane for a long moment before speaking.

“Well,” he said finally, “you’re a ferox, ain’t you?”

Zane had a hard time placing that accent. Islander, undoubtedly, but he couldn’t narrow it down any further than that. “I am,” he said, as there was no advantage in denying it.

“You’re the first one to find me in a while,” Longstrain said. “You must be a clever one.”

Zane had no comment on that.

Longstrain’s smile widened. “First one in a while, but far from the first one ever. Some were ferox. Some were jealous fathers. The king’s sent a few of his own Guard after me, if you can believe that. As if he didn’t know piracy is a crucial component of his nation’s economy. Look here.”

Longstrain strode ten feet to Zane’s right and held up his torch.

Zane stifled a gasp at what the torchlight revealed. A decomposing corpse chained to a tree.

Without a word, Longstrain marched to another tree twenty feet to the south. Another corpse chained to another tree. He walked from tree to tree, revealing no less than twelve bodies in varying states of decay, all secured to trees in a manner eerily similar to the way Zane was currently chained.

Longstrain walked back to his spot ten feet in front of the tree and smiled. “Like I said, you ain’t the first. Not by a pretty mile. And these are just the ones who found this particular hideaway. The ones who thought to try me at sea? Well, it would take a mighty large forest and a good bit of chain to display them all.”

Zane squeezed his eyes tight and opened them again, trying to regain his focus. What were dead bodies to him? He was a ferox. Granted, he’d only ever killed one person himself, and that at the orders of his mentor, but a few bodies shouldn’t bother him. He just needed to focus and wait for his moment.

Longstrain scratched at his chin. “It’s an interesting thing. You leave enough bodies lying around, the critters start to take notice. The first man I chained here took a long while to die. I suspect it was thirst that got him, though who’s to say? I ain’t no doctor. The more recent arrivals, though? They didn’t last nearly as long. Come sun-up, the birds found them. You couldn’t hardly see them through the mass of feathers. Hell of a way to go, torn to shreds by a million pecks from a thousand beaks. Hard to think of a more nasty death. If there’s anything to recommend it, at least it’s fairly quick. You’ll be surprised how few hours it takes you to die.”

He leaned forward and let the smile fall off his face. “You were proud of yourself for finding me, weren’t you? Well, this is your reward.”

No. This wasn’t his reward, Zane knew. It was his chance. Despite everything that had happened between him and Jacob Von Ridden, Zane still followed one lesson his former friend had taught him: always carry a lock pick.

He let the chains fall to the wet ground and leapt forward. Before Longstrain could move, Zane planted his feet and threw an uppercut that connected with the man’s outstretched jaw. It was like hitting stone. A wave of numbness shot up Zane’s right arm. From the way the punch felt when it landed, he almost expected Longstrain’s jaw to be uninjured, but he was relieved to see a stunned look of surprise on the pirate’s face as he struggled to keep his feet. The torch fell to the ground, and Zane kicked it as hard as he could, sending it spinning into the trees. They were in darkness now, the rain falling around them and only the thin light of the crescent moon by which to see.

Zane hopped his better night vision would be advantage enough. He’d sparred plenty, but Longstrain had fought to the death again and again. Zane threw another punch, but Longstrain saw it coming. He didn’t dodge or block; instead, he leaned into the blow, taking the hit to the eye like it was the cost of doing business. The pirate let out a grunt as the blow connected, then leapt forward, grabbing Zane around the waist and tackling him to the ground.

Before Zane knew what was happening, Longstrain was sitting on top of him. The pirate was using his knees to pin Zane’s arms to the ground. Zane tried to blink the rainwater out of his eyes. Longstrain smiled again, and this was a smile filled with sadistic delight the likes of which Zane had never seen before and would never see again. In that moment, Zane realized Longstrain liked being hunted. He liked taking on the best the ferox society had to offer. He liked it when they found him, because then he could crush them.

Longstrain drew back a fist and slammed it into Zane’s face. The young ferox heard a cracking noise as the pirate’s punch connected with a cheekbone that would never again be quite the same shape. The world seemed to buck and roll under Zane as he struggled to hold onto consciousness. He’d never felt a punch like that, and he’d fought a Cragsman.

Longstrain put a hand behind his back and brought out a long, thin blade.

“You opted for the quicker death,” the pirate said. “There’s no shame in that. It shows wisdom. I’m happy to grant your request.”

As the pirate raised the knife, Zane made one final desperate move. He pushed his left arm, not upward against Longstrain’s knee, but downward against the wet earth. The mud gave a quarter-inch, and he slipped his arm out from under Longstrain’s knee.

As Longstrain brought the knife down, Zane’s hand went up. He struck Longstrain’s wrist, diverting the knife just enough that it stabbed him in the right shoulder rather than the throat.

Longstrain grunted as his hand slipped off the knife, and a moment later Zane was pulling it out of his shoulder. He knew this was his only chance. He gripped the handle hard and stabbed upward. The pirate’s jaw might have been steel, but his eyeball wasn’t. The blade pierced his eye and sank through into his brain. Longstrain jerked three times, and fell on top of Zane.

Zane lay there for a long moment, struggling to breathe under the weight on top of him, his mind swimming from the pain in his face and his shoulder. After a long while, he pushed Longstrain’s body aside and struggled to his feet. He may have just killed a legendary pirate, but he still had a job to do tonight, and he intended to do it.

He stumbled in the direction from which Longstrain had come, and he soon reached the house. To his surprise, no one stopped him as he walked through the door. There were servants, but they just watched, mouths agape, as he stepped inside. Finally, one of them, a bald, old man with bushy eyebrows stepped forward.

“Sir,” the old man asked. “What did you do?”

Zane’s voice was weak when he spoke. “I killed him.”

The old man drew in a sharp breath. “Impossible.”

Zane shrugged. “He’s lying out in the rain. Check for yourself.” With that, he brushed past the old man and went deeper into the house.

He found the young woman sitting at a table reading a book. She was as beautiful as all of Longstrain’s wives were rumored to be. Her hair was a deep brownish-gold that reminded Zane of honey. She wore a long knife on her belt, a knife not dissimilar to the one currently lodged in her husband’s eyeball, but she made no move to reach for it when she saw him. She let out a slight gasp and her eyes widened.

Zane realized he must look quite the sight, covered in blood, both Longstrain’s and his own, and soaking wet with rain.

“Melody,” he said.

She gritted her teeth and shook her head fiercely.  His use of her name must have given him away as a ferox. “I’m not going with you,” she said. “You can’t make me. I escaped my damn family and I’m not going back to them.”

Zane took a step forward. “They don’t want you to.” He nodded toward the pendant hanging from a thin gold chain around her neck.

She looked uncertain for a moment, then her hand went to the pendant.

“Your father told me it’s a family heirloom,” Zane said. “And you’re no longer part of the family.”

She slowly unhooked the necklace and held it out to him, her hand shaking.

He took it and turned to go.

When he was almost at the door, she said, “Why don’t you kill me?”

He sighed. He wanted nothing more than to be gone from this place. He’d achieved the unthinkable, but all he felt was cold. “Because that’s not what I was hired to do.”

“I’ll tell them,” she said, shouting now. “I’ll tell his wives. They’ll come after you. They each have pirate crews, and they won’t stop until you’re dead. You’ll be hunted for the rest of your pathetic life.”

Zane didn’t bother answering. He went to the stable, found his horse, and started toward the nearest town.

CHAPTER ONE  - NOW

Jacob Von Ridden sat behind his large desk, his hands folded in front of him, and his ample belly pressed against the oak. He squinted at Lily in a manner that suggested he wasn’t entirely pleased.

“Tell me what you suggest I do about this situation?”

Lily bit her lip against the first four responses that sprang to mind. Her chair was shorter than his, and sitting in it always made her feel like she was being reprimanded by the schoolmaster. She remembered the first night she’d sat here, back when she’d been Zane’s apprentice and she didn’t understand even the basics of the abditus craft. It felt like another lifetime. She hadn’t seen Zane in over two years now, and, lately, she spent more time at fancy dinner parties than she did with a sword in her hand. The socially-awkward-but-deadly girl she’d once been was now only a memory.

But some of the lessons still remained. Just because she was now studying to become an abditus rather than a ferox didn’t mean she couldn’t use the things she’d learned during her time as an assassin-in-training. Though some might not feel the same way.

She leaned forward, meeting her mentor’s eye. “Were I you, I’d congratulate your apprentice on a mission well accomplished and on her uncommon ability to think on her feet.”

Jacob sighed. “It’s not your ability to improvise that I’m worried about. Nor your…uncommonness. It’s your inability to follow simple orders and execute a carefully planned strategy.”

“Caleb said—”

“Bah! Caleb isn’t your mentor. I am.” Jacob rubbed a weary hand against his eyes. “Tell me your assignment.”

“Jacob, is this exercise really—”

“Please. Humor me.”

Lily took a deep breath. After everything she’d been through, she resented being treated like a child, but what could she do? Her past was gone, and she’d worked damn hard to forget it. She’d never be a ferox. And Jacob Von Ridden controlled her chances of becoming an abditus. Unless she wanted to go back to her parents’ farm, she needed to do what he asked. At least occasionally.

“I was to accompany three members of the King’s Guard to the home of a man suspected of stealing from the king. I was to use a shimmer to hide our approach. When the Guards engaged the target, I was to use the shimmer to disappear from view and let the Guards do their job.”

Jacob nodded sagely. “And that wasn’t what happened?”

Technically, that was exactly what had happened. She’d disappeared as the Guards knocked on the door. But it wasn’t a lone thief who’d answered; it was five armed bandits who quickly engaged the Guards in combat. Two more leapt from a second story window to get behind the soldiers. But Jacob knew all of this.

“If I hadn’t acted, those three Guards would be dead.”

Jacob nodded slowly. “I do not disagree.”

Lily hadn’t been able to stand by and watch as good men were slaughtered by criminals. She’d leapt into the fray and evened the odds a bit. As such, three of the bandits were dead and the rest were in custody.

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked.

Jacob held up a finger. “Firstly, you used glides of your own design. Glides that have not yet been approved by the Abditus Society for field use.”

She couldn’t argue with that point. She had done it. But she wasn’t sure if Jacob was upset because she’d used her glides, or if he was still disappointed that she’d specialized in glides instead of shimmers like him. Either way, she couldn’t resist throwing a little barb. “Use of unapproved magical devices. If what my old mentor told me is true, you know a little something about that.”

Jacob scowled. Any mention of Zane was enough to make him angry. She didn’t use that particular strategy against him often, but it was awfully effective when she did. “That’s exactly why you should listen to my caution. I know first hand the damage unauthorized magical devices can do to your career. But that’s not the main reason I’m upset.” He held up a second finger. “Number two, you engaged in combat.”

Had she ever. It still gave her a thrill to think about it. Nothing but a bit of steel between her and death. She still sparred regularly. At least Jacob hadn’t forbidden that. But this was the first time in a long while she’d been in a real honest-to-goodness, trying-to-kill-each-other fight. And it had been wonderful. But Jacob wouldn’t understand that. So she reiterated one of her earlier points.

“If I hadn’t jumped in, those Guards would have been killed.”

Jacob frowned. “Lily, please try to understand. I’m attempting to ease you into these types of situations. The King’s Shadow is often called upon to assist in larger missions. We may not always know all the details, and going off on our own, going against our orders just because it feels right in the moment, that’s how wars are lost.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Tracking down an idiot who stole some silver from the king is a war, now?”

“Of course not,” Jacob said, “but the same concepts apply. We don’t know what was supposed to happen on that mission. And what you did caused a change in the plan, like a pebble in a pool of water, and there is no telling what the ripples will cause.”

Lily thought about that a moment, then her eyes widened. “Wait. Those Guards were supposed to die?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“I think you might be.”

“No. I doubt they were supposed to die. But, the thing is, I don’t know any more about the larger situation than you do. The king has long been trying to rally support among the nobles to take a legitimate crack at driving the bandits out of the north where so many of them are holed up. It could be the king decided the best way to raise the support was to have a few well-liked Guards die.” He held up a hand before she could voice her outrage. “I’m not saying that’s what happened. The king usually doesn’t do things that way, not unless he has to, but my point is that you just don’t know.”

“So I’m supposed to let my friends die because the king might want it that way?” she asked.

Jacob sighed. “Look, I understand. I really do. You trained under a ferox.” It seemed as if he still couldn’t bring himself to mention Zane by name. “And a ferox knows the whole story. He does what he needs to do to get the job done. The difference here, as an abditus in the royal court, is that you often times don’t even know what the job is. All you see is your tiny role. You’re playing on a much bigger game board here.”

Lily leaned forward and looked him in the eye. “I’ll follow orders. I’ll jump through whatever hoops I need to. I promised you I’d put my full effort into becoming an abditus, and I am. But I won’t watch good people die just to follow orders.”

“Says the assassin’s former apprentice.”

Jacob’s words stung a bit, but Lily did her best not to let it show. Jacob might have known Zane for a long time, but that comment proved he didn’t understand him. Zane had a code, even if it was a strange one. He killed, yes, but he looked people in the eye when he did it. He never claimed to be a good man. He was honest with himself and the world about what it did, and Lily was only starting to realize how rare a quality that was. Every day she learned a little more about life here in the royal court of Opel, and every day she respected Zane a bit more.

After a moment, Jacob held out his hand. “Enough of that. Let me see the glide.”

Lily felt a twinge of excitement. As much as she missed the ferox life, she had to admit she loved making glides, too. It required a precision, a mental focus, similar to that required on the field of battle. She went to that same deep place when she fought and when she crafted glides, both disconnected and fully connected with the world, sensing everything around her while and distracted by nothing.  Glidemaking didn’t come quite as naturally to Lily as swordplay, but she was making progress. And this glide, her newest, was very good. She’d been nervous to show her mentor, as he was a harsh critic of her work, but she knew deep inside that this time he’d be pleased.

She reached into her boot and pulled out a knife. With the flick of a wrist, she sent it spinning toward the high ceiling. When it reached the peak of its ascent it seemed to hover there for a moment. Its spin slowed, and it gently began to descend, handle down. It came to rest in Jacob’s outstretched hand.

He gripped the handle, turning the blade this way and that, inspecting it from various angles. He flicked the blade into the air, mimicking Lily’s move, and she winced as it stopped midair and shot downward, burying itself in the desk next to Jacob’s hand.

Lily said, “You have to orient it so that—”

“Yes, yes,” Jacob said impatiently, pulling the knife out of the desk. “I see it now.” He flicked it into the air again, and this time it hovered near the ceiling for even longer than it had when Lily had done it, before gently descending back into his waiting hand.

“This is…good,” Jacob said, his eyes not leaving the knife. “I can see the possibilities. Not ready for production, of course. The orientation requirements alone make it unsalable to anyone who hasn’t trained as an abditus. And then there’s the question of whether the concept could be adapted to swords. Maybe even arrows, though the wind factor would be difficult to compensate for.”

Lily had already created a sword-length version; in fact it was embedded in the sword attached to her hip right now, but she wasn’t ready to show Jacob that. She’d only begun experimenting with arrows. As Jacob speculated, that was proving much more difficult.

“But,” Jacob continued, “this is good. Quite good.” He slid the knife back across the desk to her. “I’d like you to pursue this line of study. Military magical objects are fairly controversial, but now’s the time to experiment with such things. After you’ve finished your apprenticeship, you’ll be far too busy for such frivolity.”

Lily slid the knife back inside her boot. She let her mentor’s words roll off. It was just his way. He felt he was being lax in his duties if he didn’t lace each compliment with two insults.

The thing that had surprised Lily most thus far about her life as an abditus-in-training was that Jacob was actually a very good mentor. His style was very different from Zane’s, and Lily’s relationship with him was very different, too. Where she’d felt like Zane was often like a more experienced, wiser partner who worked with her side-by-side, Jacob was more like a teacher who gave her carefully crafted assignments and sent her to complete them.

Both approaches were effective, Lily had to admit. She was coming along just as quickly as an abditus as she had as a ferox.

There was a knock at the door, and Jacob called for the visitor to enter.

The door opened and Caleb Col, the King’s Sword, walked through the door. Caleb had broad shoulders and an unruly mop of dirty-blond hair that hung over his eyes. He wasn’t tall, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in presence. There was something about him that filled a room and demanded attention, even when he was in the presence of the king himself. He was in his mid-twenties, very young for the position of King’s Sword, the king’s personal representative in combat and, along with Jacob, one of the king’s top advisors. But none could dispute he’d come to the position fairly. He’d been a distinguished member of the King’s Guard for three years before taking this role. Faraday, the former King’s Sword, had left a sealed envelope with instructions in his chambers that had identified his recommendation of his replacement, as was the custom. Faraday had selected Caleb as his preferred successor, and the king had agreed with his late Sword’s suggestion.

Caleb gave Lily a stiff, formal bow as he entered, the same as he would for any noblewoman of the court, and Lily rolled her eyes. Caleb didn’t seem to notice. He turned to Jacob.

“What’s the status?” Caleb asked. “Have you briefed her?”

Lily sat up a bit straighter at that.

Jacob gave his head a quick shake. “Just getting to that.” He motioned to a seat beside Lily, and Caleb sat rigidly, his back not touching the chair. Something about him didn’t look right when he was sitting, Lily thought, like he’d been formed to stand at attention.

Caleb turned to Lily. “Nice job out there with the King’s Guard. The king was impressed.”

Lily’s eyebrows shot up. She turned to Jacob and asked, “Was he?”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “As I said, I was getting to that part.”

“Your actions saved three men’s lives,” Caleb said, “and the king took notice. And that was before one of the bandits you captured talked.”

“Yes, yes,” Jacob said with the wave of his hand. “Let’s all leap to action at the words of a bandit looking to save his own life.”

Caleb ignored him. “Turns out one of the bandits had just been hired for another job. A very big job. Our skilled jailer persuaded him to share the details. Have you heard of the Longstrain widows?”

An image flashed in Lily’s mind: Amber Longstrain stabbing Zane in the leg with a poison-tipped dagger. And a moment later, Lily kicking her in the face. “I believe I’ve heard of them. Terrors of the Gamlond Sea, right?”

Caleb nodded. “That’s them. Terror of every captain who sails it, too. According to our captive friend, the widows are working together. Planning something big.”

“As I told you earlier,” Jacob said, “that’s impossible. The widows don’t work together.”

Lily remembered how the widows had banded together to search for Zane in all the taverns, but again she bit her lip.

Caleb said, “Historically, that seems to be the case. But this could be the exception.”

“At least according to our oh-so-trustworthy source,” Jacob said. When Caleb didn’t respond, Jacob turned to Lily. “We’re sending Caleb and some of the King’s Guard to investigate the man’s claims. Since I’m going to be tied up with the negotiations with Tavel, the king has asked that you accompany his Sword in my place.”

Lily couldn’t hide the smile that leapt to her face. She was being given a real assignment, and it wasn’t tracking down some two-bit thief, either. It was a matter of consequence. And, the king had asked for her personally. She hadn’t been this excited since the first time Zane allowed her to accompany him in the field. “So what’s their plan? Where are we going?”

Jacob waved away her questions. “Time is of the essence. Caleb will explain on the way. And, Lily?” He held up a chastising finger. “You are going along in a support role. Caleb will serve as your commanding officer. Do whatever he asks, and no more, understand?”

Lily nodded. “I understand. I’ll follow orders.”

“Good. I’ve prepared you a collection of magical devices from the armory. They’re waiting in your room. Stay safe. I trust we’ll be celebrating your successful return in no time.”

Caleb rose and motioned for her to follow.

When they had left Jacob’s study and were safely down an empty hallway, Lily grabbed Caleb’s shoulders and shoved him against the wall. He started to protest, but she silenced him with a kiss.

When she finally pulled away, a slow smile crossed his face. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that all morning,” he said.

She pressed herself against him and grinned. “Do you realize I just promised my mentor I would unquestioningly follow your orders? I am completely at your mercy.”

Caleb said, “This should be a very interesting trip.”

He leaned down and kissed her.

CHAPTER TWO

Zane knew something was wrong the moment he opened the door and walked into his house. He couldn’t identify what had set him on alert. Nothing seemed to be out of place. There were no telltale noises or shadows. For a moment, he thought maybe it was Lily, come back either to visit him and make amends or to kill him and reclaim her place as a ferox.

But, of course, that wasn’t possible. She had given up any chance of ever becoming a ferox when she’d joined the Abditus Society, just as he’d given up any chance of becoming an abditus when he’d become a ferox. The Societies didn’t easily forget when someone quit their ranks, and they never forgave.

He’d given up hope that he’d ever make amends with her. And maybe that was for the best. He’d turned her into a killer, and she’d likely never forgive him for it. She needed to move on with her life, and that was understandable. Once or twice, he’d considered visiting her, just to talk and clear the air, to apologize for putting her in the position that had forced her to kill Beth Farns, but it wasn’t his place. She’d been the one who’d left; for him to pursue her would be a disrespectful intrusion.

He’d sought out news of her progress. He’d been impressed when she graduated from the Abditus Academy in less than a year. He casually asked other ferox to pass him any Lily-related news, so he’d heard about how she was making waves in court, impressing all the right people. He kept up with her as best he could, but he never contacted her.

Today, Zane was returning home after a job on the western outskirts of Barnes. He’d been hired to kill a man who had maintained a monopoly on the tobacco trade in the city for years through fear and intimidation. Zane had gotten the job done, but it hadn’t been clean. It had come down to a fight, and the tobacco baron had been a big, swarthy gentleman with experience in the boxing ring. He’d somehow managed to get the jump on Zane, and the ferox had taken a few good blows to the head and body before he’d managed to regain the advantage. Now his ribs ached, and there was a ringing in his ears. Tomorrow would be much worse. He intended to have a few stiff drinks tonight and sleep until the worst of the soreness was gone. One of the benefits of living alone was no one gave him any grief if he wanted to sleep all day.

Zane was three steps into the house when he identified what had set off his mental warning. There was a smell. It was faint, but it was there. And now that he’d detected it, he was able to identify the likely intruder. He drew his sword and moved quickly and quietly through the house, searching room by room.

He found her in his study. The sharp tang of sea salt was heavy in the air here, softened with just a hint of lavender. She sat in one of the chairs, the one he usually favored, as if she were an invited guest. Her shock of red hair stood in sharp contrast to the green upholstery.

“What are you doing here?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Amber Longstrain smirked at him. “Relax. I’m not here to kill you.”

“Lucky thing,” he said, still holding the sword in front of him. “That usually doesn’t go well for you.”

“How’s the leg?” she asked.

“Fine,” he said. That was a lie. It still hurt sometimes. The pain came unexpectedly and with no discernible pattern. It often seemed to strike at the worst possible time.

“I’m surprised amputation wasn’t necessary. You must have identified the poison quickly. I’m impressed.”

It had been Lily who’d identified the poison and prepared the treatment, but he wasn’t about to get into the details with this pirate. “Why are you here, Amber?”

She held up her hands, an innocent look on her face. “I imagine the same reason most people come here. I’d wager a man in your position doesn’t get a lot of social visits. I can relate.” She leaned forward and smiled. “I’d like to hire you.”

He waited a beat and let it sink in, not sure that he’d heard correctly. When he finally convinced himself his ears had not deceived him, he said, “That’s not going to happen.”

She smiled thinly. “I think I can convince you otherwise. I believe you’ll be intrigued by what I have to say.” She held up a cloth sack and shook it, making the coins inside jingle. “Payment first, isn’t that how this works? Take my money and listen to my story. What’s the harm? You can turn me down afterwards.”

He paused. A big part of him wanted to grab her and toss her out the window. He was offended by her audacity, coming here to hire him after she and her sister-captains had spent the last twelve years trying to kill him.

And yet, there was another part of him that was curious. Things had been routine, of late. Ever since Lily left, if he were being honest. His work had been challenging at times, but it felt more like a slog than it ever had before. He’d began wondering why he was still doing it and how long he’d keep at it. He had enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life. Maybe he should retire while he still could, before the job killed him.

But he didn’t. Because he longed for that spark of excitement he used to feel. Maybe it was foolish, but he was chasing the feeling. He’d begun to think he might never experience it again. But hearing Amber Longstrain say she wanted to hire him made him feel something.

“Thirty thrones,” he said. “Payment up front, like you said. You tell me about the job, and either I’ll accept it or I won’t. But I keep the money either way.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I heard it was twenty-five.”

“Thirty is the people-who’ve-stabbed-me price.”

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out another handful of gold coins. Zane’s eyes widened. How rich was this woman? She counted out five thrones, dropped them into the bag, and then set the bag on the table.

She gestured to the empty chair across from her. “Now that I’ve bought a bit of your time, care to sit?”

He lowered himself into the chair, folded his hands across his lap, and waited.

“It’s difficult to know where to begin,” she said.

Normally, he would provide some prompt or ask a few questions to get the conversation started, but he didn’t feel like making things easy on her. He just waited quietly.

“My sister-captains and I have a meeting each year,” she said. “It’s in a secret location, don’t ask. And the dates vary. We have to be careful, you understand. With the bounties on our heads, plenty of mercenaries would love to catch us together. Any one of us would bring a handsome prize, but all of us…one could buy a small castle with the reward.

“It’s a rowdy affair, even by pirate standards. We drink and gamble for each other’s best crew members. We bring our most attractive young pirates to trade and share with our sisters. We exchange memories of Henry and curse the bastard who killed him.” She smirked at that. “But the true purpose of the gathering is to plan the routes for the following year.”

“The routes?” Zane asked. He couldn’t help himself.

“Aye. Can’t have twenty pirate ships all stalking the same trade route at the same time. There’s no profit in that, besides the fact that we’d all get ourselves strung up. So we plot it out. So-and-so ship gets the Tavel passage in early spring, another in late fall. You understand?”

Zane nodded.

“It gets complicated. And more than a little heated. Not all routes are created equal, savvy? And each captain has her reasoning as to why her crew should get the choice spots. Blood has been spilled at these meetings, some of it by me, I’m not too proud to admit. If you ever meet my sister-captain Roslin, ask her what happened to her eye. She’ll lie, but it’ll be enjoyable to see the look on her face.”

“So that’s the job?” Zane asked. Normally he waited, let them tell their stories at their own pace, but he felt like pushing Amber. “You want me to kill you one of your fellow captains? Help you get the best pillaging route?”

“No! I would never…” A shadow passed over her face as if she were reconsidering her statement mid-sentence. “The thing to understand is these meetings always go the same way. They start out as a revel, drinking, gambling, everyone one big happy family. After a few days, the hangovers set in hard and the negotiations begin. By the time the routes are divvied up, we all hate each other. But, we go off and have a year to cool down before the next meeting, when the cycle repeats itself. It’s always the same.”

Zane had heard enough of these types of stories to make a guess where this was going. “Except this time it wasn’t.”

She nodded solemnly. “Everything was going according to schedule until the negotiations began. I wanted to start out strongly, so I suggested my crew take the early spring run on the southeast quadrant of Gamlond Channel. It was a ridiculous opening, and I knew it. It’s the best route at the best time. Practically every wave seems to bring another ship loaded with spices from the Crags. I figured I would get them all riled up about that route before graciously agreeing to take the second best slot while they all fought and squabbled over the first one. If things went the way I hoped, it would give my crew the best return without bargaining away my soul to get it.” She leaned forward on the edge of the chair and looked Zane in the eye. “But the strangest thing happened. They agreed to let me have the best route. There was a bit of bickering, but I could tell it was for show. In fact, no one seemed to care what route they got for the early spring run.”

Zane scratched his chin. “What does that mean? What would make them not care?”

She leaned back and smiled. “My question exactly. So I traded a few of my crew onto some of my sister-captain’s ships with the understanding that they’d report back. It didn’t turn out that way for those boys. It wasn’t a month before each and every one of them turned up dead due to some accident or another.”

Zane said, “So there’s treachery among pirates. Doesn’t exactly sound like shocking news so far.”

Amber scowled. “Perhaps you don’t understand us as well as you think. We all learned our trade from the same man, and we all learned his code. Aye, we’ll slit each other’s throats in the heat of an argument, and we’ll fight just to find out who’s best at it, but plotting and teaming up against one of our own sister-captains? It just isn’t done. So I kept investigating. I hired outside operators this time, old sea-dogs in harbor towns up and down the coast to report to me about my sister-captain’s movements. Before long, I heard tell of a meeting betwixt the rest of them down south in Morven. And according to my source, there was a man there. A man who was leading the proceedings. A man they all deferred to. And my source identified this man. She’d never met him in life, but she’d seen paintings, the kind that hang in barrooms up and down the coast. The kind of paintings pirates toast to acknowledge he was the best of them before taking their first sip of the night.”

Zane felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If this was going where he thought it was going, Amber was either doing a pathetic job of trying to trick him or she was insane.

“So I kept investigating,” Amber said. “Next thing I heard was a report of a man traveling with Petra. And the source said she was deferring to this man almost as if he were the captain and she were nothing more than his first mate.”

“Amber,” Zane said, “what you’re suggesting is impossible. I was there. He’s dead.”

“Is he?” Amber snapped back. “You were there, aye. And you felt for his pulse? You watched them bury his body?”

She knew he hadn’t, so he didn’t respond.

“After that, I had no more reports of my sister-captains showing up at any of their usual haunts. It was as if they’d gone ashore and disappeared. The trail’s gone cold. But I know they’re planning something. And, from the way they wanted me in the southeast Gamlond in early spring, I know it will happen soon. But I need to know what they’re planning. And, if he is back, why he left me out of it.”

“Amber,” he said softly, “what’s the job? Who do you want me to kill?”

She laughed a shrill laugh at that. “Kill? I don’t want you to kill anyone. I didn’t want you to kill him the first time. You’re more than an assassin, aren’t you? Don’t the ferox find things?”

He nodded.

“Then I want you to find him,” she said. “I want you to find Henry Longstrain.”

CHAPTER THREE

The city of Morven was a squat thing that seemed to be constructed mostly of scrap wood, perhaps the remains of ships destroyed and washed ashore after attempting to enter the narrow harbor. Only a few years ago, this would have seemed a sprawling metropolis to Lily, but living in the capital city of Langton had changed her perspective. She now saw Morven for what it truly was: a collection of ramshackle homes and businesses that primarily existed to cater to the sailors temporarily docked in the harbor. The wealthy leaders of the shipping industry lived far away from here, many of them in the fashionable and elegant city of Arrow to the south.

It was the laborers that lived in Morven, not the profits.

Such places gave rise to the public display of things that would be shrouded in a bit more propriety in other places. There were men smoking yarish root out in the open on the street; Lily watched them clawing at the air and huddling on the ground as the hallucinogenic effects took hold. There were brothels that did little to disguise their purpose; women draped in thin, flowing fabric stood in the doorways, trying to lure in clientele with lurid suggestions.

And something else: pirates.

These were a bit more difficult to pick out unless you knew what to look for. The only pirates Lily had ever seen were the ones she’d fought in  the tavern in Barnes, but Zane had told her how to spot them. Many of them had the telltale image of a swallow in flight tattooed on their shoulder or neck, which was said to signify their freedom from the laws of dry land. Others walked in groups, all of them with odd, matching hairstyles, no doubt ordered by their captains as shows of loyalty.

Lily and Caleb rode their horses through the street. Unlike most cities, the pedestrians here didn’t immediately give way to riders. They walked in straight lines, daring the riders to divert from their paths or run them down. Caleb took the lead, and he wasn’t one to divert from his path. The pedestrians always moved in the end.

When Lily asked about it, Caleb said, “The people here haven’t seen a noble in decades. That’s part of what makes this place so attractive to unsavory characters. Duke Quintson is the hands-off type, and his family home is a good two-days’ ride. That’s his excuse, anyway. Personally, I think he’s afraid to show his face.” He turned in the saddle and grinned back at her. “I don’t know who’d be first in line to string him up, the pirates or the few remaining lawful citizens.”

They moved their horses through the streets, passing increasingly seedy shops the further into town they went. Caleb stopped in front of an especially shabby-looking establishment. He said, “Wait here,” and hopped off his horse.

Lily waited on her horse, breathing deeply of the seaside air. They were only a block from the ocean now, and she saw the masts of ships towering over the squat roofs in front of her. She’d been to sea exactly once, but, according to Caleb’s plan, she’d soon be aboard another ship. Caleb and Lily had spent much of the trip here discussing the plan. He’d genuinely wanted her input. It was one of the things she loved about him; he respected her ability to think strategically.

A moment later, the King’s Sword came out, followed by a boy who couldn’t have been more than ten.

“Come,” he said to Lily. “The boy will take care of our horses.”

She trailed Caleb inside and tried to follow him through the pub as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior lighting. From the way it looked on the outside, she’d expected it to be rowdy, the kind of place where men would be gambling over dice and the wrong word to the wrong person could get you stabbed or, worse, beaten and dragged aboard a ship to start a new life as a rather undistinguished member of a pirate crew. Plenty of people had disappeared from seaside towns in such a manner, and in nicer towns than Morven, too.

But this establishment was quiet. There were a number of suspicious-looking patrons, but they all seemed to be drinking alone. No one looked up as she and Caleb passed. They stared into the bottoms of their mugs as if observing a captivating theater production.

Caleb led her through a door on the far side of the tavern, which led into a much smaller room. Eight men were already seated around the large, circular table, and Lily recognized most of them. Six were King’s Guards. They were dressed as civilians now. The plan had been for them to arrive in town in groups of two over the last few days so as not to arouse any interest.

The other man Lily did not recognize. He was tall and thin, with a hard face and a long scar across his left cheek.

The Guards welcomed Lily with enthusiasm. She’d been enjoying something of a hero-status among them since she’d saved the three Guards during the bandits’ ambush. None of those men were here today, but, the way these Guards acted, it might as well have been their lives she’d saved.

“You bring that magic knife of yours, Lily?” a young man with a pockmarked face asked.

“Come on, Gary,” she answered. “You should know by now that in my hands any knife is magic.”

They hooted their approval.

Lily and Caleb sat down at the two empty seats—they weren’t next to each other, thankfully; they were trying to keep their relationship under wraps—and all eyes turned to Caleb. Two of the Guards knew the exact nature of their mission. They’d been sent ahead to communicate the details of the job with a captain Caleb had hired. The man with the scar, Lily guessed. But the other four were clueless, and, from the way they leaned forward on their chairs, seemed eager to learn the details.

Caleb didn’t keep them waiting. “You all remember the bandits we captured.”

One of the Guards, a man named Bramon, brushed his long, stringy, red hair out of his face and smiled. “Lily captured, you mean.”

Lily waved her hand at the comment. “Please. I was one of four. Everyone did their part.”

Caleb ignored the exchange. “The bandits have been spending time in the care of Lucas, and they’ve had some interesting things to say.”

Lily thought she’d probably do some talking, too, if she were in the jailer’s hands. Lucas was known more for his collection of arcane torture devices than for his gentle conversation. Hell, she’d probably make things up, say anything to get him to stop. Which was why she was always a bit skeptical of the information he passed on. This was no exception. Caleb had shared everything with her before they’d left Langton, and it all seemed a bit grand. Definitely out of character for the players involved.

Now that she thought about it, that was probably why Jacob had allowed her to come on this trip. He knew as well as she did that nothing was likely to come of the information gained through Lucas’s interrogations.

“One of the bandits said he’d recently been hired for a job here in Morven. He said someone here was desperate to hire any man or woman with even a minimal amount of seafaring experience.”

“Who’s the employer?” a Guard named York asked. “King’s Navy recruiting again?”

Everyone but Caleb laughed. Soldiers loved to joke about the ramshackle nature of the Navy, but in truth, the Navy was a formidable fleet, and probably the reason things with Tavel hadn’t degraded into all out war.

Lily glanced at Caleb and saw he was scowling. He’d served in the Navy for a few months, time he’d spent with chronic seasickness, vomiting over the rail as often as doing his actual duty. An officer had taken pity on him and seen to it that the young man was transferred to the Army, where Caleb had flourished, quickly moving up the ranks.

“I would have flourished in the Navy, too, if it hadn’t been for my damn weak stomach,” Caleb had told Lily. And Lily believed him. He seemed to be able to do anything, and do it well. It was a bit surprising he hadn’t been scooped up by one of the professional guilds after taking his Tens exam. He was certainly smart enough. He would have made a hell of a ferox, in Lily’s opinion.

Caleb glared at York. “Actually, it’s the Longstrain widows.”

The laughter quickly stopped.

Bramon frowned. “Seems unlikely.”

The man with the scar let out a guttural noise of disapproval.

Caleb turned to him. “Something you want to say, Captain Pass?”

Pass met Caleb’s gaze with a cold stare of his own. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told those two scabs you sent to brief me. It ain’t unlikely. It’s impossible.”

The Guards began to mutter at this insubordinate attitude toward the King’s Sword, but Caleb held up a hand. “He’s the only one of us to have any direct experience with the Longstrains. Let’s hear what he has to say.”

Lily felt a stab of guilt at that. Caleb had shared so much of himself with her. How many times had he told her about his childhood in the country, the way he used to run through the fields of winter wheat, holding out his hands and feeling it tickle his palms? He’d told her of his mother’s illness and how she’d died by degrees over the course of two years, like a pile of dust being blown away by the wind. Caleb had been only seven. He’d spoken of how the experience had broken his father, of how the man had tried to take care of his three children, but how each of them had left at the earliest opportunity, Caleb, the youngest of the bunch, included. Caleb had felt guilty leaving, but there was a whole world out there and all that was left at home was the husk of the man he’d once worshiped as a hero.

Caleb had told Lily of his early days in the Army, how he’d had to work twice as hard as the other men to gain respect because of his small stature. He’d fought twice as viciously, too, taking down both friends and rivals in the sparring ring with equal ferocity. He’d spoken of the pride he’d felt at being named the youngest member of the King’s Guard. He’d even told her of the crippling shock and fear that came over him when he learned he’d been named Faraday’s replacement as the King’s Sword.

He shared so easily. It was like he just opened his mouth and let his innermost feelings pour out when he was with her. It was one of the things she most loved about him.

Lily wasn’t built like that. Part of it was her ferox training. Zane had told her that every piece of information you gave away should be intentionally and carefully selected. For ferox, there was no such thing as small talk, even when the others in the room thought that’s what they were engaging in. Every word must have a purpose.

But another part of it, in Lily’s opinion a very large part, was simply who she was. She’d always been this way. She’d watched in dumbfounded confusion at the way some children, including her twin brother, seemed to forge instant and deep connections, sharing what was inside them as easily as Lily might share a dish rag. It simply wasn’t her way.

So, no, she hadn’t told Caleb about her encounter with Amber Longstrain. Or much of anything about her time as a ferox apprentice. He’d asked a little when they first became involved, but, to his credit, he’d taken her gentle rebuffs and soft conversational re-directions in stride and hadn’t pushed the matter. He hadn’t even brought up Zane when he revealed they’d potentially be facing Henry Longstrain’s widows. And he certainly knew Zane had killed the famed pirate. Everyone knew that.

Captain Pass scratched at his chin. “Aye, I do have a mite bit of experience with those damn Longstrains. I’ve spent the last twelve years somehow squeezing a meager living out of the sea while those sister-captains raged through every shipping route worth pirating. Most of my esteemed colleagues either bent the knee and joined onto a Longstrain crew or resorted to honest living. Neither option appealed much to me.”

A few of the soldiers were looking at Captain Pass differently now. Lily suspected they’d just realized they were sitting at the table with a pirate.

“Captain Pass is independent,” Caleb said. “One of the few left who doesn’t pay any allegiance to the Longstrains. I thought that since he’s spent the past twelve years avoiding them, he might be able to help us spot them if they come this way.”

“It won’t happen,” Pass growled. “For one, they don’t work together. For two, they don’t divert from their pattern. Their dear departed husband taught them an effective style of careful and ruthless piracy, and they follow it. What you’re suggesting they’re trying to do is too far a divergence from their pattern. I’ll take you out to where you say they’ll be, if that’s what you want. But we won’t find nothing there but blue skies and choppy seas.”

“Then why take the job?” Lily asked. Something about the man irked her.

Pass shrugged. “Why not? The King’s Sword is paying me very handsomely to take you into yonder sea. He even offered to erase a few charges of the criminal nature which were somehow attached to my name. What’s it matter to me if we don’t find anything? The coin spends just as well either way.”

York gave Pass a long, careful stare before turning to Caleb. “So you think the Longstrain pirates will be here en masse. Did our source say what they are collaborating on?”

“He did not,” Caleb said. “But he didn’t have to. I have access to the Royal Navy’s route manifests.” He paused, meeting each person’s eyes in turn, a sly smile on his face. “Robert’s Revenge is passing through this very channel in two days’ time.”

The faces of the four Guards who were previously unaware of the details went pale. Captain Pass just muttered a creative combination of curses.

“You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying,” Bramon said.

Caleb nodded at him, still smiling his impish smile. “Indeed I am. A fleet of pirates is coming to steal the flagship of the Royal Navy. And we’re going to stop them.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Zane started his search with Longstrain’s old house in the mountains of western Opel. It was here he’d killed Henry Longstrain, and, as far as he was concerned, it was here the man remained.

He still wasn’t sure why he’d taken the job. If there was anyone on the planet certain Henry Longstrain was dead, it was Zane. He’d driven a dagger through the man’s eye and deep into his brain. He’d felt the lifeblood drain out of the pirate and onto his own shirt. He was absolutely certain Longstrain was dead.

Amber was simply succumbing to the paranoia common among those who spent their lives on the wrong side of the law.

And yet, weren’t there balms said to close nearly any wound in minutes? In his time at the Abditus Society, he’d heard rumors of such things, though he’d never studied balms himself. And if they did exist, wouldn’t a pirate who was constantly being hunted by some of the most skilled killers in the world be among the most likely to possess such balms? It all seemed highly unlikely, but not impossible.

If Henry Longstrain was somehow still alive, what did it mean for Zane? He’d built his career on the reputation he’d made from succeeding where so many others had failed in taking down the pirate. He’d been named one of the Ferox Society’s four assassins based on that reputation. If it wasn’t true, if he hadn’t actually killed Longstrain, that meant his career was based on a lie. He had to know.

When Zane arrived at Longstrain’s former home, he was shocked by the transformation it had undergone since his last visit. Granted, that had been in the middle of a rainy night, but he’d seen enough of the grounds to understand the general layout. The house had been surrounded by a sparse forest of towering, old oak trees, one of which Zane had gotten to know quite well when he’d been chained to it. Now, twelve years later, most of the forest had been cleared away and replaced with a vineyard.

He knew his chances of finding the Longstrain pirates—and possibly the resurrected Henry Longstrain himself—here were slim, but it was a place to start. He’d often found in his years as a ferox that starting at the most obvious place was a perfectly sensible practice. Besides, not many knew about this hideaway.

He made his way through the vineyard and toward the house. An old man was sitting in a chair in front of the house, his eyes closed. Zane recognized him. He’d spoken to Zane that night and asked about Longstrain. Zane thought the old man was sleeping until he opened his eyes a sliver and said, “Come to kill the rest of us, have you?”

Zane paused. He hadn’t expected such a direct statement. “No. Not in the least. Are you in charge of the house now?”

“No,” the old man said dryly. “Not in the least.” He sighed and stood up, making a show of it, like it took a heroic effort. “Wait here.” He turned and walked into the house.

A minute later, he returned. “The mistress will see you,” he said. He sat back down and closed his eyes.

Zane waited a moment to see if there’d be further instructions, but there weren’t. He walked inside and found the mistress sitting in a rocking chair next to a window in the great room. She was no longer the love-struck girl from Gippen he’d been sent to find, but the sunlight coming through the window behind made her glow with a youthful brilliance.

“Melody,” he said.

She looked up at him, her expression unreadable. “Ferox Halloway. It’s been too long.”

“Has it?” he asked.

She began rocking the chair slowly back and forth. “No. I was being polite. What do you want?”

Direct. Just like the servant by the door.

“I wanted to talk to you about your former husband.”

She thought for a moment before replying. “I don’t believe that would benefit either of us. If you have questions about his piracy, I don’t know anything. You killed him before he taught me the family business. If you came to tell me something you’ve uncovered about his past or his other wives, I’m equally disinterested. All that matters to me are the few precious months we had together. And if you’ve come to apologize for killing him, I won’t hear it. So, no, I don’t want to talk about my former husband.”

“Mrs. Longstrain, I’ve come a long way and—”

“Would you like to buy some wine?” she interrupted. “The merchants in Langton are calling us the best young winery in Opel. A couple years ago, we couldn’t keep up with the demand. But this year, with trade restrictions with Tavel being what they are, I’ve found myself with a surplus. It won’t be cheap, but I’m certain you can afford it.”

Zane decided it was best to avoid dead-ending the conversation. “I might be interested. But I’m not going to spend good coin on swill either, just because the merchants say you’re the best young winery in Opel.”

Melody grabbed a small bell off the table next to her and gave it a shake. A moment later, the old man came into the room.

“Two glasses of red, please?”

They sat in silence until he returned carrying a tray with two wine glasses. He lowered the tray, offering a glass to Zane.

Zane hesitated. “Can I trust you not to poison me, Mrs. Longstrain?”

Melody shrugged, got up, and took both glasses. She took a healthy sip from each and set them back on the tray. “In truth, Ferox Halloway, there’s nothing I care about more than my vineyard and the wine it produces. I wouldn’t sully it with poison, not even to kill you.”

He nodded, took the glass closest to him, and drank. He was no expert, but it tasted pleasant enough to his untrained palate. After complimenting her on the wine, he said, “I’m a little surprised to find you here.”

“Did you think I’d run back to my parents?” she asked, a bemused smile on her face. “They made their feelings about me perfectly clear in the little message they had you pass along.”

Zane felt an unusual twinge of guilt. That had been a harsh message, especially when delivered to a newly-minted widow by her husband’s killer, still splattered with her husband’s blood, no less. “Actually, I was thinking about the other widows. I’m surprised they let you have this place. They are not known as the most generous bunch.”

Melody’s face darkened. “That they aren’t.” She went quiet for a moment, as if lost in thought. Then she said, “Do you know what they call me?”

Zane shook his head.

“The betrothed.” She chuckled sadly. “They don’t acknowledge our marriage. The only time we went to sea was for our wedding. He never taught me the ways of The Sweet Trade, as they call it. He never gifted me my own ship and crew. So it doesn’t count. As far as they’re concerned, I’m not one of them.”

“Yet they allow you to keep this estate.”

She nodded. “They feel sorry for me. This land-locked home is a poor replacement for the freedom and earning potential of a ship, in their minds.” She smiled. “Let’s just hope none of them come to realize how much I’m making with this winery. Amber might do a bit better than me in a good year. Petra, maybe. But I doubt any of the others do.”

He nodded and took another sip of the deep red wine. “Then I assume you don’t share their murderous intentions toward me?”

She looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. “If I could snap my fingers and have you drop dead, I would do it. I loathe you. You killed the man I love. But I’m not on a quest for vengeance. I genuinely like my life here. If I’m being honest, I probably like running this vineyard better than I would have liked captaining a pirate ship, seeing my husband for a few precious days a few times a year before he went off to be with one of his other wives. I certainly like it better than the life my parents had planned for me. Did you know they wanted me to marry the asthmatic son of a preacher? Some life that would have been. So I did well for myself, and I’m happy enough with how things turned out. If you ever see my parents again, tell them they can keep their damn family heirlooms; I prefer my freedom.” She leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. “Ferox Halloway, I just want to be left alone. Tell me why you’re really here, and be quick about it.”

He nodded, drained his glass, and set it on the table next to him. “Amber Longstrain has hired me.”

Melody’s eyes widened in surprise. “Good Lord, whatever for?”

Zane took a deep breath. “To find Henry.”

The widow’s face ran through a spectrum of emotions, first shock, then concern, then finally amusement. “For a small finder’s fee, I’d be happy to show you where he is. It’s about fifty yards east and six feet down.”

“Amber believes he’s alive.”

Melody’s face darkened. “Foolishness. They’re all superstitious fools.”

So, Zane laid out the evidence Amber had brought him. He told her about the sister-captains’ odd behavior at their annual meeting, and about the sightings of Longstrain widows taking orders from a man who fit Henry’s description.

When he was done with his tale, they sat in silence of a long moment before Melody said, “Is it possible there’s someone else? Maybe they’ve taken a new man as their figurehead.”

Zane shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Those women have their run of the Gamlond Sea. There’d be no profit in it.”

The woman cocked her head. “If you don’t know love’s not about profit, I feel sorry for you.”

Zane thought for a moment. He hadn’t mentioned it to Amber, but he’d done plenty of research into her and her sister-captains over the years. When someone vowed to kill him, he made it a point to keep tabs on them. But with the Longstrains, that proved difficult. Their crews were especially loyal. Or fearful. He was never sure which and he suspected it was a bit of both. Still, he had managed to glean some information out of a couple of former crewmen over the years. According to them, the sister-captains had all taken a vow to never love another man who wasn’t their Henry’s equal. And they’d built up their departed husband so much in his death, told so many tall tales about his exploits, that it seemed impossible any man would ever be able to measure up. One of them falling for someone new? Maybe. But the type of plot Amber described would require them to all bow to this new authority.

It didn’t seem possible.

“Do you know where they might be?” Zane asked. “The other crews clearly wanted Amber out of the way, but where would they have gone? What could they be planning?”

He knew the chances of this land-loving woman being able to answer these questions were very slim. She had no experience in piracy.

And yet, Henry had selected her. He’d seen something in her. The Longstrain women were beautiful by all accounts, but they were also brilliant and deadly. Without exception. Henry must have seen these same qualities in Melody.

Zane hoped that, while she’d never been a pirate, maybe, just maybe, she thought like one.

A slow smile crossed the woman’s face, and it made Zane glad. It was the smile of a killer.

“You don’t understand,” Melody said.

“Then explain.”

She paused for a long moment, as if considering how much to reveal. “Henry told me something interesting about Amber. Something that made her different than the rest of us.” She paused, as if waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t, she continued. “One thing all Henry’s wives had in common was he pursued us. In my case, he saw me in a shop and struck up a conversation. He had an uncanny knack for deciding on what he wanted quickly and then pursuing that thing with relentless drive.”

She paused again, and this time Zane played along.

“But Amber was different?” he asked.

Melody nodded. “In that one case, she pursued him. She started out on the crew of one of his wives. Did you know that?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t remember which one it was,” she said. “One of the early ones, obviously. But when Henry came to visit his wife on the ship, Amber did her best to attract his attention.”

“I can’t imagine that was uncommon,” Zane said. “His wives get their own ship and crew. I’d expect that would be an attractive option to a pirate slaving under a captain’s orders.”

Melody nodded. “Indeed. Henry said what made Amber stand out was her approach. She didn’t flirt. She didn’t try to seduce him. Well, not with her body, anyway. Her method for attracting his attention was simply being better than everyone else on the crew. She was so good he couldn’t help but notice her. It took years, but it worked.”

Zane thought about that for a moment. From the perspective of the captain of that ship, it must have been harsh medicine, indeed. One moment Amber was her subordinate; the next, she was sharing her husband with her. “You think that may have been the cause of the other wives betrayal?”

Melody shrugged. “Seems doubtful after all these years. Still, Henry said it was quite the point of contention back then, with other wives violently objecting to Amber’s inclusion. She was also the only one to insist on being married in a church. The rest of us were married at sea. But, no, I don’t think that’s the reason for them turning on her.”

“Then why?”

Melody thought for a long moment before answering. “I don’t know. But I do know this: Amber doesn’t think like the rest of them. That was proven by the way she became his wife, and proven again by the story you told me.”

“What do you mean?”

She leaned forward and smiled. “Any true Longstrain widow would understand what happened at that meeting. You think they gave Amber the southeast Gamlond Channel because they wanted her out of the way, but that’s not it at all. They gave it to her so they’d know where she is. So they can find her. I don’t know why, but the Longstrain widows are going to kill Amber Longstrain.” She picked up her glass of wine for the first time and took a long sip. “Now, it’s time for you to go. How many cases of wine would you like to take with you?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Lily crouched in the crow’s nest, her left hand wrapped loosely around the mast, her right hand open and stretched out. Up here was a peaceful place. The smell. The cool breeze that felt so good as it caressed her hand. The pendulum motion of the rocking ship on the waves.

A few crew members stood  on the main deck below gawking up at her, but she didn’t even mind that. She’d given them reason to stare. After watching as a crew member went aloft the main mast with uncanny speed that could only come from years of practice, she’d touched the ring-shaped glide on her finger and shot into the air, reaching the top even more quickly than the experienced sailor had. The deck had filled with gasps. They’d known she was an abditus-in-training, of course, the King’s Guards couldn’t wait to tell anyone who would listen, but they probably had never seen a glide in action. Jacob always told her the glide was the showiest of magical devices, and it was difficult to argue. She told herself that wasn’t why she’d chosen it.

When she’d reached the crow’s nest, she’d hovered in the air next to it and casually asked the wide-eyed lookout, “Do you mind if I take this watch?”

Too flabbergasted to speak, the sailor had bowed—actually bowed!—and scurried down the mast. And now, for the first time since they’d boarded two days ago, she had some peace.

Ships were often loud, chaotic places. Lily knew that from the time she’d spent aboard Zachary Derk’s ship back when she was apprenticing for Zane. She’d posed as a noblewoman trying to escape her overbearing brother. When Zane had given her the task, she’d imagined a relaxing week spent at sea, waiting for Zane to arrive and assassinate the captain. Instead, she’d spent only the minimal amount of time in her cramped quarters, feeling like she was being bounced around the entire time. When she’d ventured out, she’d constantly been in someone’s way.

It made a certain kind of sense. Ships were built like a miniature world. Everything needed for survival had to fit on board the vessel, and each square inch had a carefully planned purpose. None of those spaces had been designated for loitering passengers, it seemed.

Captain Pass’s ship, The Gully, was actually much worse in that regard. Here she wasn’t a paying passenger, she was a meddling abditus, working for the crown, no less, who’d somehow found her way aboard a pirate sloop. As much as the King’s Guards liked and respected her, the pirates were scared and suspicious of her. That was part of what had driven her to perform this little stunt. They called her witch behind her back, sometimes just barely, so she’d decided to show them some magic. She wanted to see whether that changed their attitudes.

She knew it wasn’t likely to, but it had been enjoyable nonetheless.

She looked toward the poop deck where Bramon sat leaning against the rail. Even from this height, she thought she could make out the greenish hue of his face framed by his long hair. The poor fellow. He’d been vomiting so often the pirates had gone from amused to disgusted to impressed he was still alive.

At least Caleb was faring slightly better. He’d barely left his cabin, and he hadn’t looked well the last time Lily had seen him, but he was keeping his food down.

And some food it was. Breakfast had been hardtack. Again. And the water they served had a strange mildewy taste. The life of a pirate, she supposed.

Lily looked at Bramon again and promised herself she’d recommend to Jacob that the next time they sent soldiers on a seafaring mission, they screen the candidates a bit more carefully.

She watched the endless sea for a long time, taking her duties as a self-proclaimed lookout seriously. She saw nothing but the constantly shifting, black swells of the Gamlond Sea. It was hypnotic, the way it rose and fell, swelled and diminished. Finally, she had to look away before the waters lulled her to sleep. Some ending that would have been. Rise majestically to the crow’s nest only to fall out of it. Zane would probably hunt her down in the afterlife to scold her for her lack of diligence.

Her eyes roved along the decks, looking for anything that might be of interest. Most of the pirates were going about their business, doing their work. One thing that had surprised her about this ship was the hardworking crew. No matter how ruthless a pirate was, she surmised, he was still just a sailor most of the time. He only became a pirate when they took a ship, which happened, what, once a month?

Something on the quarterdeck caught her eye. Captain Pass was talking with two crew members, a woman and a man. They leaned close as they spoke, as if whatever they said was unsuitable for other ears.

Probably just idle gossip, Lily thought. So-and-so isn’t pulling his weight. Did you hear this person slept with that person? That type of thing. And yet, something about the captain had struck her as strange ever since the meeting at the Morven tavern. He seemed altogether too…subdued. He was surly, but he grumbled like a man setting about a job he was dreading. He didn’t talk like a man used to controlling his own destiny.

Lily thought for a moment, wondering if this was a line she was ready to cross. She’d spied before, yes, on targets and enemies. But on allies she suspected might have ulterior motives? With no more evidence than a hunch? That was Jacob’s territory, not Lily’s.

Yet, she found her hand creeping into the satchel at her waist and pulling out a small round object. It was a glide, one of the few Jacob had provided in the kit he’d given her from the royal armory of magical devices.

She held up the stone, letting it balance on her open palm just so. She couldn’t drop it. Jacob would never let her hear the end of it if it slipped from her hand and plopped into the sea. But she couldn’t think about that now. She needed to concentrate. This particular glide was not easy to use.

Glides changed the way things moved. The most common uses were causing inanimate objects to hover or to float to specific places. More advanced glides could move the human body, like the ring that had lifted her to the crow’s nest. But the glide in her hand didn’t change the movement of objects or people; it changed the movement of sound.

She had to be precise. This wasn’t the type of magical object that could be sold to a non-abditus. It required a trained hand. It would have been much easier if she could have heard the conversation faintly. But she couldn’t hear anything happening on the quarterdeck from up here.

It took her five frustrating minutes of tilting the glide in different directions and working different angles. She overheard snippets of a dozen other conversations before she found the one she wanted. But then she heard the captain’s voice loud and clear.

“—days left. We’ll go as long as it takes, but it’s starting to wear on the crew.”

“The crew will be fine. They’re good.” This was the woman. Lily didn’t remember her name. Her skin was as dark as Lily’s, and her raven hair whipped in the wind as she spoke.

“Aye, that they are,” Captain Pass said. “They’re good at piracy. They’re good at throwing a grappling hook and climbing onto a ship and cowing the sailors until they’re happy to hand over their cargo. They’re good sailors, too, the lot of them. But deception…they ain’t practiced at that.”

“Captain, maybe the ruse isn’t necessary,” the other man said. His name was Gerald, Lily thought. Something that started with a G, anyway. He was a stocky, bald man with the signature pirate tattoo of a swallow in flight on his neck. “I don’t see the profit in it. Let’s throw those we don’t need over the side and put the ones we do in irons.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed. Any guilt she’d felt at spying was gone now. These pirates were not here to help them. She silently cursed Caleb and Jacob and the king and anyone else who’d had a say in this foolish plan. These were pirates! Of course they couldn’t be trusted. They were probably planning to kill the Guards and ransom her and Caleb back to the king.

“It’s not that easy,” the woman said. “They’ve got that witch, for one thing.”

“The witch can be dealt with,” Captain Pass said.

Gerald gestured toward the crow’s nest. “Did you see the way she flew aloft? Due respect, but I’d prefer to avoid tangling with that one. Maybe we can wait. Leave her to Longstrain.”

Lily straighten up a little. Longstrain? So that was the plan? Rendezvous with one of the Longstrain widows and hand over Lily and Caleb? But why? Captain Pass said he hated the Longstrains, that he’d spent his life avoiding them, even. Maybe this was to be a peace offering? Maybe Captain Pass wanted to join one of the Longstrain crews after all?

“We can’t count on that,” the woman said. “Longstrain has problems of his own. We have to handle our business.”

The breath caught in Lily’s throat. He? Was it possible they were talking about Henry Longstrain? No, Zane had killed him years ago. It had to be someone else.

Captain Pass scratched his chin. “All I know is I’d much rather fight that witch than face Longstrain’s wrath. Tell the crew to hold steady for now. This will all be over very soon.”

“And we’ll all be very rich.” The woman patted Pass’s arm. “You’re doing well.”

The captain nodded. “I appreciate you saying so. Now back to work, you lazy dogs.”

To Lily’s frustration, they parted at that, scattering to different sections of the ship.

She sat in the crow’s nest for a long time, trying to calm herself, trying to reign in her emotions. But the longer she stayed aloft, the more she felt the panic creeping in. Every glance at the sea, stretching to the horizon in every direction, was another reminder of how trapped they were. They couldn’t run away. They were stuck on a ship with traitorous pirates. And there was nothing they could do about it.

Lily finally decided she had to talk with someone.

She started to climb down the mast—how she’d once loved to climb—and then stopped. She had to act like everything was normal. And the woman who’d come up here, the woman who’d taken flight and soared to the crow’s nest in the showiest way possible, wouldn’t climb down.

Steadying her trembling hands, she touched her ring and stepped out of her perch into thin air. She descended slowly, lazily even, making sure all eyes were on her. She must have looked like an actor in a play being lowered from the rafters with ropes. A few of the pirates whistled and cheered as she touched down. It sickened her, the way these men and women who wanted to kill her were putting on a show, but she nodded to them graciously.

She didn’t even walk directly to Caleb’s cabin, though she desperately wanted to sprint there. Instead, she wandered the deck, ascending the companionway to the poop deck. She watched the sea off the starboard side for a few minutes.

To her left, she heard Bramon groan.

He looked up at her, a queasy smile on his face. “I’ll tell you something, Lily. I’m starting to hate this damn sea.”

Lily choked back a laugh. “I agree, my friend.”

She turned and walked casually down the companionway, doing her absolute best to look like a bored passenger with no clear destination in mind. The woman Lily had overheard talking with the captain walked by, and Lily forced herself to give her a polite nod.

Then, ever so casually, she went to Caleb’s cabin and knocked. There was no answer, so she tried again, but again received no response. The poor man was probably sleeping. The sea simply didn’t agree with him.

Lily opened the door and slipped inside. Then she stopped, shocked at what she found.

The cabin was empty. Caleb wasn’t there.

She put a hand against the bulkhead to steady herself. Thoughts of what the bald man Gerald had said came rushing back.

“Let’s throw those we don’t need over the side and put the ones we do in irons.”

Was it possible they’d already enacted that plan? That Caleb was right now treading water, calling desperately for help that would never come?

No, of course not. She was being ridiculous. Whatever their plan, they’d be fools to kill Caleb. The king would pay for his safe return.

Also, he was the damn King’s Sword. He was as good as his predecessor Faraday had been. A bit less technically accomplished, perhaps, but he made up for it with greater strength and just as much speed. Lily didn’t think he could single-handedly defeat a ship full of pirates, but she knew they wouldn’t have been able to take him out without anyone noticing. He would have put up a hell of a fight, even while sea sick.

Unless they’d caught him sleeping, a little voice inside her head whispered. Then a simple knife between the ribs would have settled the matter.

She took a deep breath and began searching the room. There were no signs of a struggle. And nothing was missing, as far as she could see. His sword was still leaning in the corner.

Was it possible she was panicking over nothing? That he’d just gone topside for a walk on the deck?

She turned and gasped.

Captain Pass stood in the doorway.

“Well,” he said. “You’ll be looking for the King’s Sword, then?”

Lily nodded. “Have you seen him? Is he…is he all right?”

Pass chuckled.

Lily’s hand went to the hilt of her sword. “Tell me.” Her voice was a husky whisper. “What did you do with him?”

“Oh, you misunderstand. I didn’t do anything. Young Caleb was a victim of Henry Longstrain. Now, I think it’s time for you to lay down your weapon. Then we’ll have a nice chat about what’s really going on here.”

CHAPTER SIX

Zane had come straight to Amber’s ship, The Empire, after leaving Melody Longstrain’s vineyard. He’d done his best to convince Amber that the other widows were laying a trap for her. But she wouldn’t even consider the notion. She believed her husband had come back from the dead, but she wouldn’t believe her sister-captains would abandon their designated shipping routes just to kill her.

“If they wanted me dead, they could have killed me at the meeting,” she said. “They had me outnumbered eighteen to one, after all.”

Zane couldn’t argue with that. But that was the way the Longstrain widows operated. For years, they’d wanted Zane dead. But did they storm his house en masse? No. They attacked him one at a time, using overly complicated methods. To the Longstrains, everything was a game. Even revenge.

“Let’s stop thinking about the what for a minute and think about the why,” Zane had told her. “Why would the others want you dead?”

She smiled and patted the railing of her ship. “Simple jealousy.”

Zane sighed. “Why are they jealous?”

“Take your pick. Henry loved me best. I’m the most successful pirate. I have the best crew. I can out drink any of them. I’m better looking than the lot of them put together. I can out fight—”

Zane held up a hand. “Fine. But if what you’re saying is true, if Henry really is back, why hasn’t he contacted you?”

She scowled. “That’s the real question, isn’t it?”

“Amber, there’s something bigger going on here, and until we understand it, I can’t advise you to take your ship out.”

She squinted at him. “Oh, you can’t advise me? I hired you to find my husband, not to be my damn advisor. I’m going. If those bitches want to take a stab at me, they know where to find me. And if you’re right, if they are coming after me, that’s our best chance to find Henry, too.”

“Fine,” Zane said again. “Then I’m coming with you.”

Amber looked genuinely surprised at that. “I didn’t hire you to be my bodyguard, either.”

“It’s like you said. This is our best chance of finding Henry. And I’m not missing that.”

Amber thought for a long time before responding. “You can come. But remember who’s captain. You’ll address me as such, and you follow orders, understand?”

Zane thought about throwing in some caveats, but he just nodded.

“And, this is important, if you kill anyone on my crew, I will lash you to the keel until you drown. Are we in agreement?”

Zane said they were.

Now they were departing, and, as Zane watched the harbor town grow smaller and smaller, he began to regret his decision.

He wondered if he might be insane.

He had money. He had respect. He could have retired or kept working and took the safer jobs. If he had any sense at all, he would have stepped down from his position as one of the Ferox Society’s four assassins years ago, maybe moved back to Gippen where he’d started his career. He’d hated it at the time, but now he missed those innocent days.

But he hadn’t retired. Instead, he’d taken on as a client a woman who wanted him dead. Then he’d pursued her insane idea that her husband was still alive. And, worst of all, he’d accompanied her onto a pirate ship which was now departing for a voyage into the Gamlond Channel.

It was at least possible this was all a ruse to get him out in open waters and kill him. But he didn’t think so. However crazy Amber’s theory about her husband, Zane was convinced she believed it.

The looks the pirates gave him were doing nothing to improve his mood.

Most of them had been part of failed attempts on Zane’s life, and he’d taken the lives of some of their friends. Now he was suddenly coming along on their voyage to plunder the most profitable shipping route in the world. On top of that, their captain had made an announcement to the crew that Zane Halloway was not to be harmed.

Zane understood why they might be confused and maybe a bit angry.

He saw a few familiar faces on deck, but the one that leapt out at him was slight woman with a rapier hanging at her hip. She wore a top that left her stomach exposed, so Zane could see the thin scar from where he had stabbed her during a fight in a tavern two years before. She looked like she was struggling to contain the fury in her eyes each time she saw him.

For the next three days, he did his best to avoid the rest of the crew, an impossible task on a sloop this size. He spent most of his time thinking. There was more going on here than what Amber was telling him. Lying clients weren’t exactly uncommon in the world of assassins. People often told him what they thought he wanted to hear. They made false accusations. A romantic rival could be portrayed as a rapist or a killer. A business associate might be drawn as a slaver or a thief. It was Zane’s job to ferret out the truth in the lies. He’d been a ferox for thirteen years now, and he’d gotten quite good at finding the truth.

The thing these people never understood was that Zane didn’t accept jobs based on the moral righteousness of the client. He didn’t think of what he did as noble. In fact, he considered it a dangerous and disrespectful practice to cloak an assassin’s deeds in any sort of nobility. He was a killer, and he knew it. There was nothing nice or good or right about what he did.

And Amber understood that. She too lived well beyond moral gray areas. Some pirates might believe the folk tales that romanticized their trade, but the Longstrain widows weren’t among them. They were ruthless pragmatists.

On the third day of their voyage, Zane made the mistake of going below to the hold alone. He was hungry and bored and looking to find something to fill his stomach, even if it was the unappetizing fare that sustained men and women who spent weeks at sea.

He was wandering in the near darkness when he heard someone descending the ladder. Followed by three others.

He sighed and pushed aside any thought of food. Quite possibly, this was going to get ugly.

The four pirates moved toward him, spreading out into a semi-circle that blocked all avenues of escape. The only light came from the hatch behind them, which gave them an advantage; they could see him clearly, while he could only see their silhouettes. The light was enough for him to make out the slight woman he’d once stabbed. And the sword she was holding. The others were similarly armed.

Zane gritted his teeth. She was an excellent swordsman. She would have made for an interesting fight under fair circumstances. As it now stood, she had three allies and Zane was unarmed.

There was no use putting up pretenses. He wouldn’t pretend they’d come down to say hello.

“I believe your captain made it clear I wasn’t to be harmed,” he said.

“That she did,” the woman said. “She’s doesn’t like rule breakers. She’ll likely have the four of us swabbing decks and scrubbing bulkheads for two weeks. But you’ll be just as dead when we’re back in her good graces.”

So much for appealing to their sense of logic, then.

“That night at the tavern in Barnes,” the woman said, “one of the men you killed was my husband.”

It made sense. Zane remembered the way she and one of the men had worked as a team, moving in complicated two-person forms. It had inspired Zane to try to do the same with Lily.

“The captain may have given up on seeking revenge for her husband’s death,” the woman continued, “but I never will.”

With that, she lunged forward.

If Zane hadn’t been ready, leaning on the balls of his feet and prepared to react to the first sign of movement, she would have run him through. As it was, he just managed to twist to the right far enough that the blade slipped past him. He spun forward and grabbed the woman’s still-outstretched wrist with his left hand, and punched her in the face with his right. As he connected, he pulled hard on her wrist. The move had its intended result; she howled in pain and dropped the sword.

Zane quickly scooped up the sword and held it at the ready, his gaze traveling to each of the pirates.

The woman growled in fury and pulled a dagger out of her belt. The pirates brandished their swords, their expressions equally enraged.

Zane had a sword, now, but he still faced a life-and-death dilemma. If he fought hard and got lucky, he might be able to survive this. Once he killed one or two of them, they would likely lose heart and beg off. Revenge is a fine thing, in theory, but few are willing to die for it. But he also believed Amber was neither exaggerating nor kidding about strapping him to the keel if he killed any of her crew members. And somehow he thought self-defense wasn’t going to be an acceptable excuse. She wasn’t the type of pirate to let one off on a technicality.

The woman made a sharp guttural sound in her throat, and, as one, they attacked.

Zane was ready. He moved sharply to his left, blocking himself from two of them with the bodies of the other two. He deflected the sword of the closest man, then spun behind him, again blocking himself from the others.

He was alongside them now, so they all had an equal amount of light to work with. That cut the pirates’ advantage. A little.

He was becoming aware there was no way he was going to live through this. Not without killing at least one of them. He had no choice. Better to survive now and throw himself on Amber’s mercy.

Again, the woman gave the signal.

But before the pirates could attack, a voice yelled through the hatch, “Enough!”

Amber Longstrain came down and glared furiously at Zane. “This is how you repay my hospitality? By taking a sword to my crew members?”

One of the pirates snickered.

Amber whirled on him. “And you four, what did I tell you about engaging Ferox Halloway?”

“You said—” the woman started.

“I said don’t!” Amber yelled.

She glared from one to another, finally turning her angry gaze on Zane. “I’d have all five of you whipped if there were time for such things. Unfortunately, there is not. We have a duck in sight. Get to your stations.”

The four pirates scurried up the ladder. Something made Zane hold back.

When the others were out of earshot, Amber said, “I appreciate you not killing them. They’re good pirates. Their blood just runs hot sometimes.”

Zane didn’t respond to that. His heart was still racing, and he didn’t trust himself to say something that wouldn’t anger the captain further, so he changed the subject. “What’s this about a duck?”

Amber turned toward the hatch and stared out into the light. “It was something Henry used to say. Most ships are like ducks. They float, they’re easy to frighten, and they’re likely to flee when you spook them.”

“A ship.” Zane paused. This was the side of piracy he didn’t want to see. “Will you try to take it?”

Amber laughed. “We’ll do more than try! That’s the reason we’re out here, after all. It’s heading north, so I’d wager it’s loaded down with spices.”

She led him topside. The crew was bustling this way and that, each moving to their stations. Many of them were carrying long, tubular objects Zane recognized as thorns. Those particular thorns were favored by those who wished to do maximum damage and cared little for precision. Others were preparing ropes with grappling hooks secured to the ends. Zane saw glides attached to the hook, probably the cheap kind that just helped them fly a bit farther when thrown. Anything more would have required the deft hand of an abditus.

Zane looked out over the sea in the direction the crew members kept glancing. Sure enough, he saw a ship. It was far enough away that he could block it completely with his thumb.

Amber followed his gaze. “It’ll take us about an hour to reach them. Less if they keep heading this way, more if they see us and decide to change course. We’ll have to give chase eventually. It’s just a matter of when they’ll turn tail.”

“And what if they’re faster?” Zane asked.

Amber let out a high-pitched laugh. “There’s no such thing. Not in a ship that size.”

They watched in silence for a long while. Eventually the man in the crow’s nest called down, “She’s a sloop, captain!”

The same as The Empire.

Amber looked through her eyepiece at the ship. “Still heading straight for us. Must be their first trip on the Gamlond Sea. Any salted captain knows to steer clear of sloops out here.”

Zane resisted the urge to remind her she wasn’t steering clear of the sloop heading directly toward them.

Amber turned to him. “You sure you don’t want to come along? Try your hand at The Sweet Trade?”

He shook his head. For some reason, even though he killed people for a living, the thought of watching a ship being overrun with pirates turned his stomach.

“The assassin’s too sensitive for a bit of real work, then?” Amber asked. “Very well. Stay safely aboard. Don’t think you’re getting a share of the plunder, though.”

As the minutes passed, the ship grew closer and closer, still not changing course, and Amber began to shift her weight from foot to foot and mutter to herself. “Why aren’t they turning? They always turn!”

“Captain!” the man in the crow’s nest called down. “On their quarterdeck!”

Amber lifted her eyepiece and looked through it for a long time. When she lowered it, her mouth was a thin line. She looked at Zane. “It appears I owe you an apology.”

She handed him the eyepiece. It took him a moment to orient himself, but when he did, he saw that the approaching sloop looked identical to theirs. A tall, black woman with long, flowing hair stood on the quarterdeck.

“Petra,” Zane said.

Amber scowled. “Ferox Halloway, I haven’t been completely honest with you. We’re about to come into a great deal of trouble, and before we do I think I’d better tell you the real reason my sister-captains are after me.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lily shifted her weight, trying once again to relieve the pain in her legs. The chain rattled. She found a semi-comfortable position by leaning back against the barrel behind her, and she tried to settle in.

She was chained hand and foot, and blindfolded. Why they felt the need to blindfold her after bringing her to this already dark hold, she did not know. Perhaps it was their superstitions about magic. There were some who believed abditus could perform magic by gazing into your eyes. That was foolishness, of course, a fundamental misunderstanding of the way magic worked, at least for humans. An abditus could build magical devices and was trained to use the more complicated ones effectively. But, without any devices or raw materials to work with, an abditus was no more dangerous than a normal person.

That was the circumstance Lily found herself in now. They’d taken away her weapons, of course, but they’d also stripped her of her rings, her bracelets, even the lock pick she kept hidden in her hair. They’d found every one of them. She was helpless.

There was one of two ways this could go. Either they’d ransom her back to the king or they’d toss her into the sea. Neither option was all that attractive. Jacob would probably have her head for allowing ten items from the royal armory to be stolen, getting herself captured, and—most of all—allowing the King’s Sword to be killed.

She felt a pang in her chest at that thought. Caleb. Captain Pass had said Caleb had been a victim of Henry Longstrain. Was it possible the old pirate was still alive? But even if he was, how would he have gotten to aboard this ship? And was she even sure Caleb was dead? For all she knew, he could be chained in this same hold.

The thought gave her a moment’s hope. The possibility she wasn’t alone down here was so sweet, she had to find out.

“Hello?” she said, her voice tentative and shaky. She hadn’t sounded so much like a little girl in years. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger. “Is anyone else down here?”

Her only answer was silence.

She waited a long time. Here in the darkness, with the thump of feet on the boards above her head, the slap of the water against the sides, and the nearly constant groaning of the ship, it was difficult to distinguish one moment from the next.

It reminded her a bit of her ferox placement exam. She’d woken up alone and bound then, too. But at least she’d had a lock pick.

She reminded herself she’d gotten out of bad situations before. The dinner-turned-bloodbath at the elf Ewrkind’s home. Taking her placement exam years before she was ready. The incident with the King’s Guards and the bandits only a week before. She’d survived all those, and she could survive this.

Finally, she heard footsteps approaching.

She sat up straight. She should prepare. Do something. But what was there to do? She had to admit, she was completely at the mercy of her captors.

The footsteps grew closer, then stopped. She heard someone sigh.

“Lily, I’m so sorry this happened.”

A hand touched her head and pulled the blindfold away.

Caleb stood before her, shirtless, with a sword at his belt.

She drew in a deep breath. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. And you?” He smiled crookedly, as he always did when making a joke.

She laughed with relief even as the tears welled in her eyes. “I’m chained up in the hold of a ship, so I’m not great. What happened to you? They said something about Henry Longstrain.”

There was a long pause. “Yes. About that. Before I explain, I want you to know I never lied to you. Not about us. My feelings were real. They still are.”

Lily felt a chasm open up inside her. It was as if she were falling. She didn’t know what Caleb was going to say next. She almost didn’t want to.

“I selected you for this mission because I love you,” he said. “I couldn’t leave you behind.”

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“Lily, the thing about the Longstrain pirates targeting the Robert’s Revenge was just a ruse. We’re not out to find the Longstrain pirates. We’ve already found them. I’ve always known where they are.”

Her mind was reeling, trying to take in what he was saying. “They said you were Henry Longstrain’s victim. What did that mean?”

He chuckled. “That’s just Pass’s way. Always so cryptic. He learned it from Petra.”

“Petra? Petra Longstrain?”

“Yes,” Caleb said. “She’s the real captain of this ship, of course. Pass is her first mate.” He paused for a moment. “I’m sorry. There’s so much to explain. I’m not doing a very good job of it.”

“No, you certainly aren’t!”

“Fine, let me try again. I’ll be as straightforward as I can. My name isn’t Caleb Col. And I don’t get sea sick. And didn’t spend my childhood on a farm, not all of it anyway.”

“What? Why? Why did you lie?”

“Revenge,” Caleb said. “Longstrains lie for revenge. But, Lily, I meant what I said. I love you. My father had a knack for many things, but probably the most important was his ability to find special women and align them to his cause. I think I have that ability, too.”

“Your father?” Lily asked. “Henry Longstrain was your father?”

“Yes. That’s why Pass called me his victim. He…he wasn’t a good father in the traditional sense. He abandoned my mother while she was dying. He left me in the care of a friend. But he gave me something important. A legacy!”

She felt a hand touch her leg, and she pulled away.

“Don’t you see?” he asked. “I want you to join me. Help me claim my destiny.”

A voice called through the hatch. “We’re closing in on them.”

“Fine,” Caleb said. “Just give me another minute.” He turned back to Lily. “I’m not asking you to make any decisions now. I understand you’re probably upset. There’s so much to tell and not enough time to tell it. What I am asking is that you help save the lives of everyone aboard this ship.”

Lily did her best to keep her voice calm. “What do you mean? Who’s trying to kill us now?”

“One of my father’s wives has gone rogue. She’s the only one who wasn’t kind to me when I was a child. She’s also the only one my father married in a church, which means she’s the only one he married in the eyes of the crown. She owns the sole claim to his inheritance. The titles he’s owed pass to her. Unless I’m alive. Titles go to a son before a wife, you understand?”

“No!” She spat the word at him. “Not in the least. Titles? What titles would a pirate have?”

Caleb smiled. “My father was more than just a pirate. So much more. Look, I’m not interested in the titles. But she doesn’t believe that. She’ll kill me and everyone aboard this ship to stop me from claiming them. You don’t have to understand. You don’t have to promise to continue our relationship. All I’m asking of you right now is that you help me save this ship from Amber Longstrain.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed. Amber Longstrain. The woman who Lily and Zane had fought in the tavern that night so long ago. The woman who’d stabbed Zane with a poisoned dagger. Lily believed that woman would kill everyone on this ship if it helped her get what she needed.

“Can we run?” Lily asked. “Captain Pass, or whoever he really is, said this is the fastest ship on the Gamlond Sea.”

“Tied for the fastest. Amber’s ship is a match for it. It’s too late to run. She’s almost here. Besides, she has something we need. Something that proves my father was more than just a pirate. Something that will make the ones who smeared his name pay.”

“Are you talking about Zane Halloway?” Lily asked.

Caleb laughed. “No, he was a simple puppet. Halloway held the knife and made the killing blow, but it was the machinations of another that ruined my father.”

“Longstrain!” a female voice called through the hatch. “You’d better get up here. It’s almost time.”

“On my way,” Caleb said. Then, in a softer voice, to Lily, “Will you fight Amber Longstrain with me? Then, I promise, I’ll answer all your questions.”

She only thought about it for a moment. These things that Caleb—Caleb Longstrain!—were saying were too big, too upsetting. She didn’t even know how to begin to deal with them. But fighting, that she could do.

“I’ll need my sword,” she said.

“Of course.”

“And my magical devices.”

Caleb hesitated.

“You’re asking a lot in wanting me to fight by your side after what you just told me,” she said. “I need you to show me a little trust in return. Besides, if you want us to have the best chance against Amber’s crew, I’ll need my things.”

He nodded. “I’ll see to it.” He bent and unlocked her chains. “The Guards don’t know. I’ll tell them after, if we survive this. But it was important to me that you know the truth. Just in case the worst happens.”

She stood and rubbed her chafed wrists. “Get me my things and I’ll make sure the worst doesn’t happen.”

They made their way topside to the main deck. Caleb barked an order, and one of the pirates ran to a cabin and returned a few moments later with Lily’s sword and satchel. From the way the crew hopped to obey Caleb’s orders, it was clear they knew who he was, or at least that he was someone very important. They certainly hadn’t acted that way when he’d merely been the King’s Sword. Was that by his order? Had all of them known all along?

There wasn’t time to wonder about such things.

She turned to Caleb. “Tell me what to expect.”

“They’ll call for our surrender first,” he said. “When we refuse, they’ll use thorns. They won’t try to sink the ship. Not unless they have to. They’ll focus the thorns on the people, maybe the masts if they’re feeling particularly nasty. Then, when they have us hurting, they’ll use ropes and grappling hooks. They start boarding and it’ll be hand-to-hand from there on out. Once we get to that point, I’m confident we’ll beat them. It’s your job to make sure there are enough of us left to survive the hand-to-hand stage.”

Lily nodded. This was going to be messy. “And what will we be doing?”

Caleb patted her on the shoulder. “The same exact things they’re doing. But we’ll have an abditus.”

“An abditus apprentice,” Lily muttered.

“There’s no one else I’d rather have fighting alongside me.”

She ignored the comment. She wasn’t ready to pretend he hadn’t lied to her. She might never be. Her eyes drifted up the mast. “I’ll need the crow’s nest.”

Caleb nodded. “That’s smart.” He let out a sharp whistle, and the lookout scurried down the mast. “All yours. Just wait for my signal before you start.”

Lily grabbed the ring out of her satchel and slipped it on her finger. A moment later she was gliding through the air. She came to rest in the crow’s nest and surveyed the other ship. She knew it was the twin of The Gully, but from here it looked much larger. It was close enough that she could see movement on the decks, but not so close that she could clearly see their faces. That was a shame. She would have loved to know where Amber was so she could take out all the anger she was feeling on the pirate.

Lily looked down at her own ship. Caleb and the woman Lily now knew was Petra stood on the quarterdeck, facing toward the other ship. Lily silently cursed them for their stupidity. If things didn’t go the way Caleb predicted, if Amber used her thorns without offering the chance for surrender, Caleb and Petra would make easy targets in their lofty position.

Except they wouldn’t be hurt. Because Lily would take care of the thorns.

She knew what type of thorns the pirates would be using. It was the same kind she’d seen aboard The Gully. She’d seen plenty of them back home in the castle, too. They were known as Cull Flames, named for the abditus who’d created them, Richard Cull. They were both brilliant and simple. Lily had been required to make one in her final month at the Abditus Academy. The design was straightforward, as was the usage. The only thing that kept the weapon from being in every household in Opel was the price. The raw materials were very expensive.

And it was entirely possible to put a hole clean through your home with a Cull Flame.

The King’s Guards stood huddled together on the starboard side. They had their swords drawn, but Lily could tell from their hunched positions they were uncomfortable. They’d fought plenty of battles, but none like this. They couldn’t know what to expect. The rest of the crew seemed jittery; they were in constant motion, and even the ones standing in one place moved back and forth from foot to foot. But they seemed focused. Every eye was on the approaching vessel.

Lily had a sudden thought. Her tangles were proximity based. If she used her tangle to disable the Cull Flames, it would have a more potent effect on those closest to her. The ones on this ship. That wouldn’t do.

She muttered a curse and rummaged in her satchel for the only shimmer she’d brought. It was also her largest magical device; the square object would occupy one of her hands, but what choice did she have? When Jacob used this shimmer, he became invisible. Lily was far less skilled and her results ranged from semi-transparency on her less successful attempts to a near invisibility that made her almost impossible to detect on her better ones.

She’d have to take her chances. She activated the shimmer and the glide, and she began her descent to the main deck.

Amber’s ship was close enough for Lily to make out the name now. The Empire. Pretentious and self-important, much like the woman herself.

When the ships were starboard to starboard, Amber called across. “Permission to board The Gully, Captain?”

It was Caleb who answered. “Permission denied. Unless you’d care to hand over those papers you’re hiding.”

Papers? What papers?

Lily didn’t spend time pondering it. She moved silently across the main deck toward the starboard rail. When she reached it, she again touched her ring and leapt. The glide carried her safely across the water and onto the main deck of The Empire.

Amber called across the water. “I’ll still be boarding, even if you won’t have me willingly.”

“I doubt you’ll find the reception much to your liking,” Petra said.

This wasn’t going like Caleb had said. There was no order to surrender. Perhaps the rest of the exchange would go more peacefully than he’d predicted, though it didn’t seem likely.

“Ah, she speaks,” Amber yelled. “I thought maybe the pup had tamed you.” When Petra made no response, Amber said, “Prepare to be boarded.”

The pirates on both sides raised their thorns. Lily activated her tangle.

Amber turned toward her crew. “On my mark. Now!”

The pirates braced as they held their tubular thorns. And nothing happened.

“Did you scabs hear me?” Amber shouted. “Attack!”

Again, nothing.

One of the pirates yelled in a throaty voice, “We’re trying, captain. Nothing’s happening.”

Amber looked confused. “Of all the damn fool things I’ve ever heard—”

At that moment, the pirates on The Gully used their thorns.

By Lily’s estimation, maybe half of them fired. The rest must have been close enough that Lily’s tangle disabled them. But it was enough.

Cull Flames were designed to send a concentrated ball of fire at the target. The flame was hotter than anything seen outside a blacksmith’s forge, and the ball could burn through both men and wood. The genius of the device was that the fire disappeared after a few seconds. That was what made it a highly effective nautical weapon for those who wished to badly injure, but not destroy, another vessel. In other words, pirates.

A man next to Lily screamed in pain as a ball of fire hit him in the chest. His scream was cut off as the area between his shoulders was instantly consumed. The flame disappeared a moment later, and the man fell to the deck, his hollowed out chest now a smoldering black cavity.

Another volley of Cull Flames hit The Empire, then another. And suddenly at least ten men were dead. If the crew was the same size as The Gully’s, that was nearly twenty percent of them.

Two thoughts struck Lily simultaneously. First, this lopsided battle was her doing. And second, her shimmer wouldn’t protect her from Cull Flames.

The main deck of The Empire was quickly devolving into chaos. A man with a blackened stump where his left arm should have been careened into Lily. She lost her grip on the shimmer in her hand and it dropped over the rail. She watched with wide eyes as it plopped into the sea below.

She was visible now, but no one seemed to notice her through all the madness.

Then a voice cut through the din. “Defense! Prepare to defend the ship!” It was Amber.

At the sound of their captain’s voice, the crew seemed to regain their heads. Grappling hooks sailed through the air, and latched onto The Empire’s rails. Then pirates from The Gully began to board.

Lily drew her sword and headed for Amber Longstrain.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The moment the Cull Flames failed to fire, Zane knew they were in trouble.

Amber hadn’t told him much. “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” she’d said. “We’re about to come into a great deal of trouble, and before we do I think I’d better tell you the real reason my sister-captains are after me.”

There were papers, she’d said. Papers that had belonged to Henry Longstrain. The other widows wanted them.

As she spoke, Zane looked through the eyepiece again. Another figure joined Petra on the quarterdeck. For a moment, Zane thought it was Henry Longstrain. But this man was far too young. And he was taller than Henry had been.

Zane passed the eyepiece to Amber. She looked, and her face grew pale.

“Damn me for fool,” she said. “Here I am believing ghost stories. It’s not Henry my sister-captains are following. It’s his son.”

Amber told Zane about Caleb Longstrain. He was the son of Henry’s first wife, the one who’d once been Amber’s captain and who later died of the wasting sickness. The boy had spent his formative years split between pirate ships and the home of Henry’s trusted friend, a farmer named Victor Col.

The ship was drawing closer. It was approaching at an angle, and Zane could see the two figures on the quarterdeck even without the eyepiece now.

Something about the story didn’t fit with what he knew of the Longstrain widows. “Why would they allow Henry’s son to lead them? Certainly every one of them has more experience than he does.”

Amber scowled. “Aye. But he has something they don’t. A birthright. See, those papers I have prove something’s owed to Henry. As his only legal wife, it goes to me. Excepting for existence of that boy. Titles pass to sons before wives, savvy?”

“Title?” Zane asked. “What title?”

Amber gave him a crooked smile. “If we survive this, I promise to explain everything.”

Zane cursed himself for ever accepting this job. He was trapped in a family feud in the middle of the sea. And both sides had flame-shooting thorns.  Likely as not, they’d sink each others’ ships. Maybe the Longstrains would get Zane after all, albeit accidentally, while killing each other.

As they pulled alongside the other ship, Zane retreated to the shadows. He wanted to see how this played out. He’d set out to find Henry Longstrain. Instead, it seemed he’d uncovered a deeper mystery. This was a battle between Longstrains, and he didn’t have a stake in it either way.

The fighting began, and immediately things went terribly wrong for Amber and her crew. Their thorns didn’t work and Petra’s did. Either Amber had bought an unusually poor supply, or Petra had an abditus aboard.

“Defense!” Amber called. “Prepare to defend the ship!” She glanced down and saw Zane. “You too, ferox. If they take the ship, you’ll be the first one they kill.”

Zane paused for only a moment, then nodded. The Empire had already lost perhaps a dozen pirates. It was time for Zane to even the odds. He drew his sword and went to work.

A swarthy, bald pirate was climbing over the rail. Zane ran toward him. The man had his sword in his hand by the time Zane reached him, and his eyes were burning with battle lust. He greeted Zane with a manic smile. Zane easily parried his attack, and stabbed him in the belly. The big pirate went down.

Zane saw another pirate had boarded The Empire using the same rope during the brief fight with the bald man, and a third pirate was crawling across. Zane lunged toward the rope and hacked at it with his sword.

The man attempting to cross screamed as the rope fell away from the grappling hook, and he tumbled into the sea.

Zane ran along the railing, cutting rope after rope. But for every one he cut, it seemed two new grappling hooks attached themselves. He glanced toward the fighting behind him on the main deck. Things were not going well. Perhaps he could do more good joining the fighting there. The problem was he didn’t know the pirates well enough to identify which side most of them were on. He was as likely to accidentally engage Amber’s crew as Petra’s.

He saw something like a blur moving across the deck. It was a woman. Her sword moved with impossible speed. She cut through the belly of one pirate, and, with her next motion, slashed another pirate’s throat. She turned, saw a pirate sprinting toward her, and threw her sword. It sank into the approaching pirate’s chest, then flew back to her hand.

It took Zane only a moment to realize who it was. He’d seen her fight dozens of times, sparred with her hundreds. But it seemed so illogical that she’d be here, aboard a pirate ship, that his brain refused to recognize her for a moment.

And the way she moved! The forms were the same, but he’d never seen her sword move that fast. He doubted he’d ever seen any sword move that fast. She must have been using glides. He’d heard that was her focus. But he’d never heard of anyone using glides on a sword. It was brilliant.

“Lily,” he said, his voice a whisper.

“My God, is that Zane Halloway?”

The voice came from his left. He spun, and saw Caleb Longstrain standing there.

“I’m wildly curious how you came to be aboard The Empire.”

“Caleb, is it?” Zane asked. And suddenly, it clicked. Amber had said he’d been partially raised by a man named Victor Col. Caleb Col was the new King’s Sword, Faraday’s replacement. That could explain why Lily was here. The King’s Sword had brought her. “What have you done, Caleb?” he asked with a growl.

Caleb raised his sword. There was darkness in his eyes. “In my family, we take revenge very seriously. You put a blade through my father’s eye. I think I’ll repay the favor.”

Zane raised his own sword, and Caleb attacked.

It was immediately clear the young man had trained with Faraday. He had the same clean lines of motion, the same speed. But he was younger than Faraday had been when Zane had faced him, and stronger. Zane parried thrust after thrust, but each time the swords connected, a jolt of pain shot up Zane’s arm.

Zane had defeated Faraday by using unconventional means, and he hoped the same would work here. He thrust at Caleb’s mid-section, forcing the young man to lower his sword to deflect the blow. When he did, Zane moved in, rushing toward Caleb, punching him in the eye with a quick left-handed jab.

Instead of being surprised, Caleb let out a sound like a growl and threw three quick, powerful jabs of his own. Zane’s head rocked back with each one, and he staggered backwards.

“Idiot,” Caleb said. “I grew up on a pirate ship. You think I don’t know how to brawl?”

Caleb shifted his sword to a two-handed grip and attacked with a fury.

Zane had thought Caleb’s strikes were powerful before, but those were nothing, a simple warm-up, compared to what he was delivering now. The fluid, technical swordplay was gone. Now he was just a pirate hacking away at his opponent.

Zane parried again and again, but he was weakening. Bringing his sword up to block was growing more and more difficult. Then Caleb brought down a monstrous blow. Zane raised his sword just in time to save himself, but the impact made him lose his grip, and his sword clattered to the deck.

Caleb raised his sword and held it to Zane’s neck. Zane felt the cold tip press lightly against the skin of his throat.

“Tell me, Ferox,” the young man growled. “Is there any reason I should let you live? Is there any profit in it? Is there anyone in this world who would pay a ransom to see you returned? Anyone who would shed a tear to learn you’d died?”

Zane didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. There was no one. The Ferox Society had a long-standing policy of not paying ransoms. The king certainly wouldn’t pay for the life of a ferox, even one who’d once done him a favor. As for friends and family…Zane had once had plenty of both. But that was so long ago. Now he had contacts. Sources. Informants. But not friends. Not family.

“Is this how Faraday taught you?” Zane asked. “You’re the King’s Sword, are you not? You dishonor the position. You dishonor your nation.”

Caleb chuckled. “My nation has dishonored itself. I’m not acting as the King’s Sword, but as a son avenging his father.”

Zane risked a glance around the main deck and saw the fighting was winding down. It seemed most of Amber’s crew had either been killed or subdued. Both ships had started with a relatively equal number of combatants, but the combination of non-working thorns on Amber’s side and Caleb and Lily on Petra’s side had made short work of The Empire’s fighters. Zane felt a combination of pride and anger at the thought.

“Caleb! I’ve got Amber!” It was Lily, calling from the quarterdeck.

Caleb led Zane in that direction by sword point.

Lily’s eyes widened as she saw Zane coming up the companionway.

Caleb directed Zane to stand next to Amber. Lily had her sword at Amber’s throat, and Caleb had his sword at Zane’s.

“Now then,” Caleb said. “Let’s get what we came for.”

CHAPTER NINE

Lily stood with her sword to Amber Longstrain’s throat. Her old mentor stood next to the pirate.

How in the world Zane Halloway had come to be aboard the ship of a woman who’d sworn to kill him, Lily could not begin to fathom. Not only was he aboard, he was fighting alongside her!

The battle was over, and Lily’s side had won. During the fight, the familiar battle lust had come over Lily, that strange combination of clarity and unreality, of being in total control and absolutely outside her own body. It had felt wonderful. She’d probably taken down a dozen pirates.

But now it was back to the messy, post-battle reality. The vitally important, yet lightning-quick decisions of battle had once again given way to a slower moral quagmire.

Petra’s crew stood victorious over Amber’s fallen pirates. The survivors were on their knees, hands behind their heads. Lily even saw that a few of the King’s Guards had made their way across the ropes and were patting the victorious pirates on the backs.

“What are you doing here?” Lily asked, her eyes meeting Zane’s gaze for the first time.

“Same as you, I’d wager,” he said dryly. “Working.”

Lily blinked hard. In their time apart, had Zane grown a sense of humor?

Caleb turned to Amber, a wide smile on his face. “I would like my father’s papers, please.”

Amber scowled at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine,” Caleb said. “We’ll start killing your pirates until you regain your memory.”

This was all happening so quickly. Lily didn’t know if she was on the right side or the wrong side. Was there even a right side? She was opposing Zane, which wasn’t a good sign. As much as the man denied having any morals, in Lily’s experience, he stood up for what was right more often than not.

“What papers?” Lily asked. “What’s so important that it’s worth all this death?”

“Henry Longstrain’s papers of commission.” The voice came from behind Lily. Petra had joined them on the quarterdeck. “From the King of Opel.”

Lily saw Zane’s eyes go wide, mirroring the surprise she felt.

“That’s impossible,” Zane muttered.

“Not all,” Caleb said. “My father was a pirate, yes, but a pirate in the employ of the crown. He worked this route for years, pirating up and down the coast, making these waters a dangerous shipping channel. He took enough Opel ships to avoid rousing suspicion, but Tavel merchants were his real target.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lily said. “King Edward would never—”

“This was before Edward’s time,” Caleb replied. “He worked for King Albert.”

Lily looked back over her shoulder at Petra. “Tell me he’s lying.”

“He’s not,” Petra said. “Albert hired Henry, and in exchange, he promised him a royal pardon for his crimes and the title of Duke after twenty years of service. Unfortunately—,” she looked sharply at Zane, “—he only made it to fifteen years. But the king put the promise in writing. And Amber has the paper.” There was fire in Petra’s eyes as she looked at her sister-captain. “What should be shared among all of us, she keeps for her own. She holds it in reserve, so that if she’s ever caught she can use it to barter for her freedom.”

Amber’s mouth was a thin, straight line. She said nothing.

Lily looked at Caleb. “And how about you? What do you want with the papers? You want to be a duke?”

He turned to her, and his eyes narrowed. “What does it matter? They’re my birthright.”

“He doesn’t want to be a duke,” Amber said. “He wants to betray his nation.”

Caleb’s eyes widened.

“That’s right,” Amber continued. “I know what you’re up to. Tavel contacted me, too. They’ve long suspected Henry was a government operative, but they want proof. It will give them all the justification they need to start a war.”

Lily lowered her sword. It couldn’t be true. Caleb loved the king. He would never—

“This nation betrayed my father!” Caleb snarled. “He did dangerous work, work that caused his death, and they still label him an outlaw.”

“He didn’t die because of his work,” Zane said evenly. “He died because he couldn’t stop marrying young women.”

Caleb didn’t respond, but Lily could see by the look on Petra and Amber’s faces that the comment wasn’t winning Zane friends on either side.

“I want those papers,” Caleb said. “Now. Give them to me, and you go free. Don’t, and I’ll kill every person on your ship. Except you. You I’ll set adrift with no supplies. You can die of thirst in the sea you love so much.”

Amber sighed. “I can’t give you what you want.”

Caleb turned and yelled down to the main deck, “Pass, please kill one of Amber’s pirates.”

“Wait!” Amber yelled. “You’re not listening. I’d give them to you if I had them, but I don’t!”

Ignoring Amber’s protests, Pass whistled and motioned toward a group of pirates. One of them scurried up the mast and tossed a rope over a crossbeam. Two of the pirates grabbed one of the Amber’s men and hauled him to his feet. Another grabbed the noose at the end of the dangling rope and fitted it around the man’s neck.

“You son of a bitch,” Amber muttered through clenched teeth.

Three pirates grabbed the other end of the rope and pulled hard. The poor man was hoisted five feet off the ground. His legs kicked wildly in the air as he hands clutched futilely at the rope around his neck.

“Not to worry,” Caleb said as the man struggled. “He should lose consciousness in a few minutes. Are you going to change your story, or shall we hoist another rope?”

“Listen, damn it!” Tears were standing in Amber’s eyes now, a sight Lily thought she’d never see. “I did have the papers. I kept them for five years after Henry’s death. Then I figured, since we’d carried on Henry’s work, King Albert would consider Henry’s contract fulfilled. So I went to him. I didn’t want the title. We all had enough thrones by then that we didn’t have to live this life. I asked for pardons for me and my sister-captains. And you know what he did? He laughed and tore up the letter of commission right in front of me.”

“No,” Caleb said. His voice was a sharp whisper. “That’s impossible.”

“He tore them up and told me I was lucky he was letting me live. He also told me if I or any of my sister-captains ever came back to him or did anything to imply that Henry was working for the crown, he would see the lot of us hanged.”

“I don’t believe you,” Caleb said in a shaky voice.

Amber looked to Petra. “Maybe I should have told the rest of you, but I wanted you to keep the hope of a different life, the hope that had been crushed inside me. Also, I didn’t want you to stop. I wanted anyone within fifty miles of the Opel coast to in fear of our name. And we succeeded. We’ve done that together!”

Caleb looked at her for a long moment, then turned to Lily. “Kill her.”

Lily’s eyes widened. “Hold on, let’s think about—”

Caleb whirled on her. “You were trained as an assassin, were you not? You were going to kill for a living! Who deserves it more than this pirate? Finish her, or I will!”

Suddenly Zane was in motion. He spun under Caleb’s sword and around behind him. Then he had an arm locked around his neck.

“Drop the sword,” Zane said.

“That was not a smart move, Ferox,” Caleb said, but Zane tightened his grip. Caleb complied and dropped his weapon. He looked toward Petra and said in a choked voice, “Kill them. Have your people execute every person aboard this ship.”

Petra frowned. “I don’t think so. I allowed you to lead because of the papers, because it was your right to them. I needed you. Now? You’re just the son of a woman I never liked that much. Amber’s my sister-captain.”

Caleb’s eyes widened.

“Finally,” Amber said. “A little reason.” She called to the main deck. “Will you please lower my crewman?”

The pirates lowered the man, and he hit the deck with the a thud. He’d long since stopped moving.

Amber grimaced. “Let’s kill this fool boy and be done with it.”

“No,” Petra said. “I won’t see that done any more than I’d let him kill you. He’s still Henry’s son.” She nodded toward Zane. “And the Ferox, he’s under your protection, I take it?”

Amber paused for a tense moment, then nodded.

Petra nodded. “Fine. We’ll kill him another time. For now, I’ll take the boy on my ship, drop him off in Tavel since he loves it so much—”

Zane let out an, “Oof,” as Caleb’s elbow slammed into his stomach.

Caleb dropped to his knees and snatched his sword off the deck. He swung the sword toward Zane.

But Lily was already in motion, and her glide-enhanced sword moved much faster than his natural speed. She blocked his attack, knocking the sword out of his hand. She let go of the handle of her own sword, and it hovered in the air, the tip touching his throat.

“I’d advise against moving,” Lily said. “That’s an experimental glide, after all. No telling when it might slip.”

Caleb looked at Lily, and she was surprised to see something unexpected in his eyes: love. “Oh, Lily, you don’t understand. But you will. You think this matters? With all the information I have on King Edward and his plans. His methods. The way he thinks. That’s why I joined the Army in the first place, with the hopes of one day making it into his King’s Guard and learning his secrets. I never thought he’d name me his Sword.” He looked toward Zane. “You remember Charles Danum and the ferox he rescued from the Tavel prison? You wonder what they’ve been up to these past two years? After the Opel crown abandoned them, they were forced to become mercenaries. They’re currently in my employ. They’re waiting for me to return to them. With a team of ferox and the knowledge I possess, I’ll bring the Opel crown to its knees.”

Lily turned to Petra. “If you want him to live, I suggest you take him back to your ship now.”

Petra nodded. “And you? Are you coming with us?”

Lily shook her head. “There’s no way he’d survive the journey if I came along.”

It took Petra ten minutes to gather her crew and send them back across to The Gully. When it came time for her to go, the pirate embraced Amber like a sister.

Lily shook her head at the strange and complicated Longstrain family dynamics.

As The Gully, and Caleb with it, disappeared into the distance, Lily turned to Zane. “He’s going to be a problem.”

“Indeed,” Zane said. “The boy appears to be in love with you.”

Lily smiled. “Like you never had a crazy suitor.” She nodded toward Amber. “She fancies you.”

Zane raised his eyebrows in surprise. “The sea air doesn’t agree with you. You’re imagining things.”

Lily looked at her old mentor. There was so much to talk about. So much to say. She could tell him why she’d really left, how she’d done it for his protection. She could apologize for not contacting him these past two years. She could tell him how difficult it had been for her to serve as an apprentice under Jacob after spending so long with a truly masterful teacher. She could at least ask him how he’d come to be in the employ of Amber Longstrain. But instead, they were joking about each other’s love lives.

That was the way it had always been with them. The most important things always went unsaid. Neither of them were remotely good at communicating about what really mattered.

“You’ll drop me and the King’s Guards in Morven?” she asked.

“It’s not my ship. But I’m sure Amber can be persuaded.” He nodded toward the six King’s Guards. “Unless they’ve taken to the pirate life. Amber has quite a few openings on her crew.”

The was a long pause, then Lily said, “I can see it in your eyes, you know.”

“What’s that?”

She smiled mischievously. “You have a plan.”

Zane chuckled. “Indeed I do. Young Mr. Longstrain has given away his destination. He said Charles Danum and the other ferox were waiting for him. And it so happens I’ve been keeping abreast of Danum’s location these past two years.”

Lily didn’t ask. Not now. Now there were injured that needed tending to and dead that needed to be put to rest.

Two days later, they docked at Morven, where Lily and the King’s Guards were returned to dry land. Zane stood by the gangplank. As Lily reached him, he put a hand on her arm.

“Lily,” he said. “There are so many things—”

She grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace. There were so many things, but she didn’t want to hear them. Not now.

She went down the gangplank and began her journey back to Langton.

CHAPTER TEN

Lily held her sword in her hand. She was attempting to make it spin. It was not going well.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she said. The response was automatic. This was life in the castle of the King of Opel. Servants were always coming and going, entering and exiting, cleaning this and carrying away that. She didn’t know most of their names or even their functions, which made her feel guilty, like she’d somehow betrayed her lower-class upbringing. But there were so many of them! Getting to know all of them would have taken up all her time, and there was so much to do. Between what had happened on the Gamlond Sea, and what she needed to do next.

The door opened, and Lily was surprised to see Jacob standing there, his face pale. He never came to see her in her room. If he needed her, he sent a servant to fetch her. His sudden appearance made her heart jump into her throat. Had something happened?

The thought only fazed her for a moment. After everything she’d been through these past few years, she felt she was ready for anything.

If she was lucky, he was just here to scold her for losing his favorite shimmer.

Jacob walked in sat down on her bed. She turned her chair so she was facing him. It was odd; for once, she was sitting higher than him.

Without preamble, he said, “We’re at war.”

A chill ran through Lily. “What? How?”

Jacob shook his head. “Apparently Tavel is willing to proceed even without proof that Longstrain was working for the Opel crown. A rider just arrived. They attacked three border towns yesterday.”

“My God.” Lily’s heart sank. “So it was all for nothing.”

“Of course not,” Jacob scoffed. “You weeded out a traitor in the king’s ranks. He’s been in the king’s ear for years, and you got him to show his true colors.”

Lily tilted her head in surprise. She was almost certain that had been a compliment.

She’d returned only yesterday, and she’d given Jacob a full report. Nearly full, anyway. She’d left out her final conversations with Zane. She wished she could have left her former mentor out of it completely, but the six returning King’s Guards had seen him. And she wasn’t about to ask them to lie. Not so soon after their former leader had been revealed to be a traitor. They would have undoubtedly begun to suspect her motives.

“The king was furious, of course,” Jacob continued. “His own Sword working for Tavel. He might have started the war himself if Tavel hadn’t made the first move.”

She put her head in her hands. It had been more than seventy years since the war with the elves, and nearly one hundred fifty since there’d been a major conflict with another nation. But this thing with Tavel had been brewing for a long time, and it wouldn’t be quick. The nation was in for a rough time of it.

Jacob sighed. “Lily, I want to say I’m sorry about Caleb.”

She looked up and saw he had a strange look in his eyes. It took her a moment, but then she got it. He knew. He knew about her relationship with Caleb.

“How did you know?” she asked. “And why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say?” he snapped. “You’re a grown woman, and it wasn’t distracting you from your studies. In truth, I was glad you two were keeping each other happy. Happiness is rare in our field.” He looked into her eyes, and there was something in him that looked almost like kindness. “I’m sure you’re hurting right now. But the king needs us to be strong. He’s a good man, but he’s a man of passion. He’ll go at this war the same way he goes at everything else: like it’s his God-given duty. He needs men and women of logic to help make decisions.”

Lily nodded slowly. “What do we do?”

The abditus ran a hand through his hair. “There’s so much. I’m needed at the front. There will be balmsmen and thornsmen and tanglesmen, but they’ll need a representative of the king to coordinate the abditus. I’m also needed here. The king won’t go to the front, not yet, and someone needs to talk some sense into him if his plans get overly ambitious, which they are sure to. Finally, I’m needed in the Crags.”

Her eyes widened at that.

“Our Navy is strong,” Jacob continued. “Stronger than Tavel’s. But we need ground support. If we can convince the Cragsmen to align with us, the war could be over by winter. We’ll send the king’s brother to do the actual negotiation, of course, but the Cragsmen will be offended if we don’t send an abditus.”

“I’ll go to the front,” Lily said quickly. “I’m good with soldiers. Just ask the King’s Guards. And my ferox training will come in handy to—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way the abditus at the front would follow an apprentice, even mine. You’ll be going to the Crags. I want you to sit in on the negotiations.”

Lily jumped out of her seat. “You’ve got to be kidding me! My skills in those types of situations are atrocious. If you don’t want to send me to battle, I’ll stay here with the king. He likes me, right? Maybe he’ll listen—”

“This is not a discussion,” Jacob interrupted. “You’ll go to the Crags. You’ll keep your mouth shut. You’ll do a little magic, if asked. And this is how you’ll serve your king.”

Lily scowled at her mentor.

His face softened a little. “Listen. War is a terrible thing. No one wants a war. But, as in all things, there is a positive. War presents the opportunity for great power and great wealth for those who are brave enough and smart enough to reach out and take it. I intend to exit the other side of this war a very wealthy man. And I’ll make sure you have the same opportunities. But you have to listen to orders. Go to the Crags. Help me end this war. Then I will teach you what real power looks like.” He paused a moment, then said, “Will you do this thing I’m asking of you?”

She paused for a long while, then nodded. The next day, she was headed into the mountains.

***

Zane crouched on a tall rock overlooking the city. The homes here in the Crags were difficult to pick out from one another, the way they were all carved into the mountain. It was a hard place, just like the people who lived here.

Amber had taken Zane south and dropped him in Tavel. He’d made his way through the lowlands, traveling by night and hiding in the woods by day. It wasn’t the easiest way to travel, nor the quickest, but things were on a razor’s edge and care was worth the effort. If he’d been caught in Tavel, he’d be no use to anyone. When he arrived, he’d given the pre-arranged signal: two blue candles lit in a certain window of a certain inn.

He waited an hour before a shadow moved across the rooftop and a woman crouched down next to him.

“You’re slow,” Zane said. “Your mentor’s made you too reliant on shimmers and glides, I’d wager.”

Lily scoffed. “No. I just found a better observation point.” She pointed at a ledge across the canyon.

He grunted softly. That was a better observation point, but he wasn’t about to say so.

“I waited there for an hour before I realized you weren’t coming,” she said. “This was the second best spot.”

“Jacob give you any trouble?” Zane asked.

“No. He’s easy to manipulate. Just let him know where you don’t want to go, and he’ll see you sent there.” She flashed a grin, and he was just able to see her smile in the moonlight. “The most difficult part has been the negotiations with the Cragsmen.”

Zane said, “They are tough negotiators.”

“It’s not just that,” Lily said. “It’s the rituals! Every day, it’s two hours of ceremonies and exchanges of gifts and commentary on the weather patterns before we can even begin. I swear, Zane, it’s enough to make me wish I was back on Amber Longstrain’s ship.”

“Then perhaps you’re ready for some fun?”

She smiled. “I’ll have to attend the negotiations during the days. But at night, I’m all yours.”

He nodded toward the sword at her hip. “Do you remember how to use that thing.”

She drew the sword, spun it around, and gently tossed it into the air. It hovered three inches above her outstretched hand. “I may have learned a trick or two since my days training with you.”

He shook his head. “Lily Rhodes, the abditus. Who’d have thought?”

She grabbed the hilt and swung the sword in a precise s-cut. “I’m still a ferox at heart. Even if I’ll never be one in name.” She looked out over the mountain city below them.  “So all we have to do is find a pirate-warrior and convince his rogue ferox faction to betray him?”

“Don’t forget about ending a war,” he said. He gestured toward her sword. “We’re going to need any advantage we can get.”

“I brought plenty of advantage,” Lily said.

“Then let’s get started.” He paused. “Lily? I’ve missed you.”

She touched his shoulder. “Me, too.”

With that, they went down into the city and started the search for Caleb Longstrain.

BOOK FIVE: LIES AND CROSSROADS

EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO

Zane took a deep breath and squeezed his hands into fists, trying to stop them from shaking. Someone touched his shoulder, and he turned to see Jacob Von Ridden, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Courage,” Jacob said. “This will all be over soon. Then we will both be a lot richer.”

Zane pressed his lips together, cutting off the response that wanted to leap from his mouth.

It had been a month since Zane had discovered Jacob was making and selling unapproved shimmers. Shimmers that didn’t change appearances, but instead changed the emotions of the target. Jacob had been quietly selling them to rich men who wanted to win the affections of younger women, merchants who wanted to smooth business dealings, and nobles who simply wanted their subjects to adore them. In only a year as an abditus, Jacob was making more money than many senior shimmermen. However, he hadn’t shown his creation to the Abditus Society. As a new application of shimmer magic, it needed to be approved for sale. The Abditus Society had seen their reputation suffer during the magic boom when the market was flooded with hundreds of untested magical devices, and they were rather careful now about what they allowed out for sale. But the approval process could take years, and Jacob, it seemed, hadn’t wanted to wait to make his fortune.

In Zane’s opinion, this was both short-sighted and foolish. He’d offered Jacob the opportunity to make things right. If Jacob took his invention to the Abditus Society, Zane wouldn’t reveal Jacob’s crime. Jacob had agreed, but only if Zane would assist him with one final sale first, a sale too lucrative to pass up.

Now they were waiting on the docks for the customer, a customer who was willing to pay the exorbitant price of fifty thrones, a sum Jacob had offered to split evenly with Zane. Twenty-five thrones each. Practically a fortune. Zane had given the matter a lot of thought before agreeing to it. Setting up business as an abditus was expensive, and that much coin would position him nicely.

But the customer…not only was this sale illegal in the eyes of the Abditus Society, it was illegal in the eyes of the crown. And, it was dangerous.

Zane heard the gentle, rhythmic splashes of oars and, a moment later, saw a small rowboat approaching the dock. The hand on Zane’s shoulder tightened. Zane didn’t know whether that was fear or Jacob’s attempt to reassure him.

The bulky, hunched-over figure in the boat tossed a line onto the dock. Zane grabbed it and tied it off, grateful to have something to do with his hands.

The large figure climbed clumsily onto the dock.

It was the first time Zane had ever seen a Cragsman up close. He was just as big as Zane had expected. However, he was not wearing his hair in the traditional Craggish style. In all the paintings Zane had seen, Cragsmen were bald except for a carefully wrapped knot of hair at the tops of their heads. This man had uniformly short hair, cropped close, and no bun.

“Which of you is Von Ridden?” The Cragsman’s voice was deep and resonant, as if it had been created specially to call to mind the jagged, harsh mountains of the man’s homeland.

Jacob put out his hand. “I am.”

The Cragsman shook Jacob’s hand, then glanced at Zane. “Why is it necessary to have him here?”

“Ah,” Jacob said. “This is my apprentice. Zane Halloway.”

Zane was surprised at the lie, but he did his best to keep his expression neutral. He held out his hand, and the Cragsman glared at it for a moment, as if disgusted by the very possibility of touching the apprentice. Finally, he shook it.

“This is not well begun, Von Ridden,” the Cragsman said. “I risk much by coming here, and I do not like surprises.”

Zane saw a bit of red leap into his friend’s cheeks.

“You’ve risked much?” Jacob asked. “If we are caught, we could be hanged.”

The Cragsman chuckled.

“You don’t have hangings in the Crags?” Zane asked. He was a bit surprised at his own question, but he was genuinely curious why the foreigner would find the idea of execution humorous.

“We do not have hangings,” the Cragsman said. “We have pressings.”

“Pressings?” Zane asked.

The Cragsman nodded. “The guilty party is made to lie on his back in a hole in the ground. All his friends and kinsmen over the age of four are required to file past. Each drops a single stone onto the convicted. The person is slowly crushed under the weight of the stones dropped on him by his loved ones. So you ask why I laugh at the idea of a hanging? Perhaps it is because I’ve been an executioner since I was five years old. I find the concept of a man swinging from a rope while the public watches from a safe distance…quaint.”

Jacob scowled. “This is all very fascinating, but what say you we move to business?”

The Cragsman glared at Jacob. “I haven’t decided if I trust you.”

Jacob glanced pointedly at the Cragsman’s hair. “You don’t trust us? We are honored citizens of our nation. We’ve never been disgraced.”

The Cragsman’s face went crimson, and the tendons stood out on his neck. “If you question my skill—”

“I don’t,” Jacob said, holding up a hand. “I apologize if I offended you.”

The Cragsman glared for another moment before nodding. “Fine. The sooner begun, the sooner done, then.” He grabbed a bulging cloth sack hanging from his belt and tossed it to Jacob.

Jacob loosened the string and poked around inside for a moment.

“You are young,” the Cragsman said, “so I’ll ignore the insult of counting my payment in front of me. But I suggest you hand over my purchase before I change my mind.”

Zane glanced at Jacob and saw his friend was teetering on the edge of anger. Jacob was not used to being questioned in these transactions, Zane knew. The nobles he usually dealt with were all too grateful to have his black market magics. Zane wished he could put a calming hand on Jacob’s shoulder the same as Jacob had done for him, but he didn’t dare. The Cragsman might take it as a sign of weakness.

Jacob reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, diamond-shaped shimmer. He placed it in the Cragsman’s hand.

“It better work,” the big man said.

“It does,” Jacob snapped. Then, in a more calm voice, “It’s set to bond to you. Simply touch it with your index finger to activate. Then you can either wear it and enact a subtle influence on all those around you, or have someone else wear it and that person will be greatly affected.” He paused a moment, then said, “Just remember, it’s not instantaneous. This isn’t a love potion from the old elf stories. It takes time. The longer someone is exposed to its presence, the more they will be affected. Prolonged exposure is key. Understand?”

The Cragsmen nodded and put the shimmer into his pocket. “In the Crags, the abditus won’t share their devices with anyone not magically trained. They say it’s not safe. So God bless you for your lack of ethics.”

Without a further word, the Cragsman turned and climbed back into the boat.

“Untie me, apprentice,” the Cragsman said, the disdain thick in his voice.

Zane crouched down and undid his knot. He didn’t mind the Cragsman’s condescension; he just wanted this to be over. He put his boot against the edge of the boat and gave it a shove.

“If I have any problems, you’ll be hearing from me.” With that, the Cragsman slapped his oars against the surface, spraying Zane’s legs with water. He smiled and began rowing in slow, powerful strokes that quickly carried him away from the dock.

Zane and Jacob watched in silence as the small boat disappeared into the mist.

“That went as well as could be expected,” Jacob said. “And now you’re rich enough to set up your own shop when you are placed. If that’s your inclination. Or buy a small house. Whatever your tastes, you’ll be starting with a leg up on your peers.”

But at what cost? Zane wondered. How much would this moral compromise cost him? “And what of you?” Zane asked.

“Yes.” The voice came from behind them. “What indeed?”

Zane and Jacob both turned. Rebecca Waters stood behind them, her small frame quivering with anger.

Zane drew a sharp breath at the sight of his mentor.

“I heard your speech,” she said, glaring at Jacob. “Never mind that you betrayed your nation by selling magic to a foreigner. Never mind that you’ve corrupted my apprentice. This is what most concerns me.”

She unclenched her fist and revealed a small pendant. “When you were my apprentice, I tolerated your presence because of your natural skill. I was flattered when you gave me this gift after your placement exam. I’ve worn it ever since. I never once questioned why my feelings toward you changed. Why I suddenly became so fond of you. Perhaps more than fond. Even now, everything inside me wants to explain this away, to find a way to help you cover up your crime.”

“Rebecca,” Jacob said, “I never meant—”

She silenced him by dropping the pendant to the ground and crushing it with her heel. She closed her eyes and gasped. “My God. My head’s been so clouded. Why didn’t I see it?”

“Because I didn’t want you to,” Jacob said. His voice dripped with venom.

“I’ll see you both punished for this,” she said.

“No,” Jacob said. “You won’t.”

He opened his hand and Zane saw something flash. Then Rebecca was on the ground, squirming as if in pain.

Zane was frozen with shock. But only for a moment. He slapped at Jacob’s hand, and an object with a distinctive, curved edge fell to the ground.

A thorn. Jacob had used a thorn against Rebecca Waters.

“What did you do?” Zane asked through clenched teeth.

“What you wouldn’t. I saved our lives.”

Zane seethed with anger. Half of him want to leap at Jacob, to attack him with everything he had, no matter that the older man was three inches taller and outweighed him by fifty pounds. But his better instincts prevailed. He ran to Rebecca and dropped to the ground next to her.

He brushed her chestnut hair out of her eyes. “Rebecca, can you hear me?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and unfocused. Her lips began to move, but all that came out were unintelligible, guttural noises.

He glared at Jacob, who was bending down to pick up his thorn. “How long will it last?”

Jacob’s eyes widened in surprise. “Surely you’ve heard of Walling’s Razor.”

Zane’s breath caught in his throat. Of course he’d heard of it. It was one of the most notorious thorns in existence. It rendered the victim in a constant state of forgetting, unable to hold any thoughts for more than a few moments. There was no recovery. Rebecca Waters would be like this for the rest of her life.

There were so many questions burning within Zane. So many things he needed to know. He asked the first one that came to mind, though it hardly seemed like the most important. “How the hell did you get a Walling’s Razor?”

Jacob shrugged. “I borrowed it from a client. Thank God you didn’t damage it. Don’t worry. My client is discreet. I brought it just in case we were seen.” He paused for a moment and looked at Zane quizzically. “What, don’t tell me you thought I’d come to do a deal with a Cragsman unarmed?”

Then Zane remembered. Of course Jacob wouldn’t come unarmed. Neither would Zane.

He had the thorn halfway out of his pocket when Jacob’s foot connected with his chin, sending him sprawling onto his back. He rolled over and leapt to his feet.

Jacob punched him in the eye so hard he fell back down again.

Zane put a hand to his face and groaned. He had never been much of a fighter. Apparently the same couldn’t be said of Jacob.

“Fool,” Jacob said. “Don’t you know I just saved your life?”

Zane looked over at Rebecca, still wriggling on the ground in confusion and pain. “I’ll turn you in. You’ll hang.”

Jacob raised his hand and slapped Zane across the face. “Wake up. If you turn me in, we’ll both hang. But they’ll want to make sure they get all the details, so they’ll torture us first. We may not have pressings in Opel, but I’ve heard the king’s jailer knows his business. We’ll tell all we know, and then we’ll die. Is that what you want? Two of the Abditus Society’s brightest young minds destroyed? And for what?”

His tone softened a bit when he continued. “Look, I’m sorry I brought you into this. And her?” He bent down and gently stroked Rebecca’s hair. “She’s the last person I’d ever want to hurt. But we had to, don’t you see? It was self-defense.”

Zane shook his head. He didn’t know what to say. Selling black market shimmers was one thing, but this…“You’re a terrible human being.”

For a moment, Zane thought Jacob was going to slap him again. Instead, he said, “Make no mistake, we are in this together. You agreed to come here tonight. You agreed to sell a powerful magical device to a Cragsman. You betrayed your country. So don’t act superior. You are morally compromised. Now and forever.” He rubbed at the stubble on his chin for a moment before continuing. “The only thing we can do now is make the best of it.” He held up the coin bag and shook it. “Look, we have fifty thrones. We can spend five of them to buy five witnesses. We can even say a Cragsman attacked her. Their Abditus Society is so shrouded in mystery, no one knows whether they have Walling’s Razors. The Society will see to it that Rebecca receives the best possible care.”

“And what about us?” Zane asked.

At this Jacob smiled. “Us? Well, I’m going to take my half of the money and expand my business. I’ll be able to build up a supply of legal, approved shimmers. No more black market for me. I’ll even let the Society study my shimmer. And you? You can take your placement exam. You’re ready.” He put a hand on Zane’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “We are the future of the Abditus Society. I won’t let anything change that.”

Zane looked into Jacob’s eyes. “I’m not sure that’s your choice.”

The next day, Zane resigned from the Abditus Society and enrolled in the Ferox Academy. But he never told either Society what really happened to Rebecca Waters. He never told anyone.

CHAPTER ONE  - NOW

Zane crouched in the shadows at the base of the rocks. He was staring into the black, gaping maw of a cave. It was night, and the city of Sicar was dim. The Craggish people didn’t use nearly as many street lamps as Opeleans did. He focused his eyes on the mouth of the cave. There was something hypnotic about it. Like the cave was trying to draw him in. Which was fine, because in was exactly where he needed to go. He just needed to wait for his accomplice.

A moment later he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw Lily crouching behind him. As always, her approach had been silent. He’d been impressed at how quickly she’d learned to silence her steps when he’d trained her. He’d only had to show her the basic concept once. Set your foot down gently on the inner ball and slowly roll your foot to the side until it’s flat on the ground. It was a slow, methodical way to travel, requiring patience and discipline. Lily had both, and, aside from the occasional pointer to refine her technique, he’d never had to bring up the topic again.

She nodded toward the cave. “This is it?”

“Through the darkness and into your romantic paramour’s hideaway.”

She nodded again.

He’d meant his comment as a playful insult, but apparently she hadn’t noticed. That was good. It meant she was focused. She’d need to be. According to Zane’s sources, they could be facing as many as four ferox, including the former head of the Opelean Ferox Society. And Caleb Longstrain. It was impossible to say how many would be there at this time of night. If their luck held, Lily and Zane would find Caleb alone, which would present enough of a challenge.

Zane wasn’t worried. He and Lily made a hell of a team. Besides, this was very likely going to be a reconnaissance mission. He hoped they’d be able to observe Caleb’s hideout from the darkness, and, if too many people were there, they simply wouldn’t engage.

“Can you do it?” Zane asked Lily in a halting voice. She’d been hesitant to talk about her relationship with Caleb, and he wasn’t sure how she’d react to seeing him.

She looked at Zane sharply. “Capture him? Or kill him?”

“Either. Preferably, I’d like to take him alive. We need to find out who he’s been feeding his information to on the Tavel side. But, yes, killing him may be necessary.”

“I can do it,” she said, and Zane believed her.

He lit his lamp and Lily did the same. He waited to see if she’d take the lead, but she didn’t. Old habits, he supposed. He moved into the cave.

It had been a week since Zane arrived in the Craggish capital city of Sicar, and he and Lily had been going out each night. In some ways, it was like a love affair. Lily had to sneak out of the palace without anyone knowing. But they weren’t sleeping together; it had never been like that with them. Although, now that Zane thought about it, the activities they engaged in were just as primal. They hunted.

They were searching for Caleb Longstrain, the King’s former Sword, the son of the greatest pirate in recent memory, and Lily’s former lover. Caleb had pretended to be the crown’s greatest defender when, in fact, he was actively working toward its destruction. And now, with Opel at war with Tavel, Longstrain’s inside knowledge and unique skill set made him a very dangerous man.

Zane had to wonder what Caleb was doing here in the Crags, the one place the war wasn’t. If all he wanted was for Tavel to win the war, he could have gone to their capital city and given them his information. But instead he’d come to a neutral country.

And then there were the four rogue ferox to consider. Two years ago, Zane had saved Charles Danum’s life and asked the man to rescue three ferox who were imprisoned in Tavel. Apparently Danum had succeeded. Now, for some reason, the four ferox had set themselves up in Sicar. It made sense as a place to hide from the authorities of both Tavel and Opel, but it appeared the ferox had covertly opened up shop here. And Caleb Longstrain was one of their clients.

And somehow they knew Zane and Lily were looking for them.

It had started innocuously. A strange noise here. A diversion there. But now both Lily and Zane were convinced that not only were they hunting the ferox; the ferox were also hunting them. And doing a better job of it. It made sense. The ferox had been living here for well over a year now, if Zane’s information was correct. Zane and Lily were newcomers. Even still, the rouge ferox’s surveillance skill had been impressive. They seemed to be able to appear and disappear at will. Charles Danum had been a well-respected ferox back when Zane had started, but he’d somehow managed to take his skills to a different level. Impressive. Especially at his age.

Last night, one of Zane’s newly-acquired sources had come through. She had seen a figure dressed in black disappear into this cave, and she eagerly reported what she’d seen, clearly anxious for the coin Zane had promised in exchange for information. Zane had stolen city plans from the hall of records later that night and learned about the series of interconnected underground tunnels. Long ago, they’d been used to make deliveries to rich families without cluttering up the surface-level streets with the serving classes. Now, they mostly sat empty.

Zane had been more than a little pleased at the discovery. After a week of frustration, finally a breakthrough. He was also pleased to uncover the rogue ferox’s method of travel. They weren’t masters of illusion. They were just disappearing into tunnels every time Zane or Lily got close.

Now Zane and Lily crept down the tunnel, which was silent except for the faint stir of their breath. And the rats. There were so many rats down here. Zane couldn’t see them, but he could hear them as they scurried along the stone. A memory flashed into his mind, the stories he’d heard as a child about the monstrous rats living in the sewers beneath Langton, some of them supposedly the size of dogs, but he quickly pushed it aside. He’d been afraid of rats once. He’d been afraid of a lot of things—his father, his first schoolmaster, Rebecca Waters, elves—but that had been a long time ago, another life. Now he knew fear was like the lookout on the mast. He couldn’t afford to ignore it completely, but it also couldn’t be allowed to steer the ship. It was something to be taken into consideration, something that called attention to things he might not otherwise notice. But it wasn’t his master.

After a few hundred yards, the hall widened and they saw a distant light glowing somewhere ahead. Zane glanced back at Lily.

She raised a questioning eyebrow, silently asking whether they should proceed.

He nodded. He was just about to move toward the light when a loud voice called out.

“Zane Halloway! Well met, old friend.”

The voice came from near the mouth of the cave.

Zane quickly snuffed out his lamp, and Lily did the same. The darkness was short-lived, however. Bright lamps, much brighter than the ones Zane and Lily were carrying, approached from both sides. They were surrounded.

Lily already had her sword in her hand. That sword. The one enhanced with glides. The idea of Lily, the most naturally gifted ferox Zane had ever met, as an abditus still tore at him. He’d done everything he could to keep her away from the world of politics and magic, but he’d somehow pushed her right into it. Although now, as they were about to face off against four ferox, a pirate warrior, and maybe a few of their Craggish friends, Zane wasn’t about to turn his nose up at having a magical sword fighting for his side.

He spoke quietly, so only Lily could hear him. “Any suggestions?”

“Suggestions? Let me see. Yes. You talk our way out of this so we don’t have to die in a rat-filled tunnel in the damned Crags.”

“I shall do my best.”

The light coming from the cave opening drew near, and he saw Charles Danum approaching. Alone.

“We can rush him if need be,” Lily said. “I can cut through him. Just give me the word.”

Zane hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He had saved the man’s life, after all.

He heard someone approaching from behind. He turned, putting his back against the cave wall so he’d have visibility in both directions, and saw three figures in black ferox garb, two women and one man.

Lily cursed under her breath.

“What is it?” Zane asked.

“The blonde one. Her name’s Gladys Harrington. She was in her last year of Ferox Academy when I was in my first.”

“I take it you don’t like her?”

“No.”

Danum was close enough now that Zane could see he wasn’t holding a weapon. Neither were the others.

“I see you got our message,” Danum said, a wide smile on his face.

It took Zane a moment, then he got it. That source had been far too eager to point out this cave, and Zane had been far too eager to believe he’d lucked his way into the information. It wouldn’t have happened back home in Barnes, where he had a trusted network of informants cultivated over many years. But here he’d been desperate. He’d been sloppy. And now it would cost them their lives.

One look at Lily showed she was thinking the same thing. Her lips were pressed together in an angry line.

“Indeed I did,” Zane called back to Danum. “And here we are. What did you want to talk to us about?”

Danum stopped ten feet away from them. The ferox approaching from the other direction did the same. “We don’t want to talk. We want to hire you. Shall we go somewhere more comfortable?”

A few moments later, Danum was leading them through the tunnels toward what he called the underneath.

“I’ll tell you, Zane, leaving Opel was the best thing I’ve ever done,” he called back over his shoulder. “The things I’ve seen. And the adventures! Stepping out of that stuffy office at the Society Hall was like waking up from a long, bureaucratic nightmare. For the first time in years, I feel like myself again.”

Zane had to admit, his old friend did look good. He had lost the belly, but it wasn’t just that. There was a spring in his step that made him look ten years younger.

“We heard you were working for Caleb Longstrain,” Zane said. No use beating around the bush.

Danum hesitated in his gait, but only for half a step. “Ah. So that’s it. You came to collect the little traitor.”

“Among other things,” Lily said. “He made it sound like you were his personal ferox. At his beck and call.”

Danum glanced back at Zane. “She’s good. Pushes all the right buttons. Trying to goad me into an emotional response.” Then, to Lily, “Where’d you end up? I was considering placing you in Gippen, to follow in your mentor’s footsteps, before I was deposed.”

There was an awkward pause, then Zane said, “She isn’t a ferox. She’s an abditus now.” He almost added the word apprentice but omitted it at the last moment, afraid she might take it the wrong way. As good as things had been between Lily and him over the past week, as natural as it had felt working together, they still hadn’t talked about the big questions. The big question, really. Why she’d left his tutelage for Von Ridden’s.

“Ah,” Danum said, clearly taken aback. “I’m surprised I hadn’t heard about that. There must be a story there.”

“You were going to tell us about Longstrain,” Lily said quickly.

Danum said, “We did some work for him. Two quick jobs.”

“And those were?” Zane asked.

“Come now. We might be morally comprised, but we haven’t fallen so far that we’re willing to talk about a job without our client’s consent. But we aren’t his—what did Lily call it?—personal ferox.”

Zane said, “Charles, we need to tell us everything you know about Longstrain and what he’s up to. I won’t consider accepting a job from you until you’ve done so.”

Danum nodded slowly. “I’ll tell you what I know, but it isn’t much. It was two quick jobs, nothing more. We just needed the money. For our real work.”

“What work is that?” Lily asked.

“It’s just ahead. I’ll show you.”

A few moments later the cave expanded once again, this time to a huge open space filled with what must have been two hundred Cragsmen and Cragswomen. Some just milled about, but many of them were at work. Basket weaving seemed to be the most common activity. But there were also woodworkers and seamstresses. And a few on the north side were sparring with axes.

“What is this place?” Zane asked.

Danum clapped him on the back. “This is our real work.”

Zane noticed that a high percentage of the people, maybe a quarter of them, were missing a limb or were disfigured in some other way.

Danum continued, “Dueling is an important part of The Crags culture. As is a lack of tolerance for the weak. The duels often result in death. But the losers who survive are cast out. Often, they end up down here in the underneath, doing menial work and barely scraping out enough to eat. But the worst part is the despair. They have no hope of ever improving their lots in life. Many turn to crime. Or suicide.”

Zane saw Lily’s gaze settle on a young woman about her own age weaving a basket. The woman was covered in dirt and missing an eye.

“I fail to see how this place would provide any work for ferox,” Lily said.

Danum scratched his chin. “I once felt the same way. When we discovered the underneath, I was sickened. But then I decided I’d spent enough of my life serving the rich. Perhaps the poor could make use of someone with my skills.”

“Your basket weaving skills?” Lily asked. The blonde ferox, the one Lily had called Gladys, glared at her.

Danum ignored the comment. “Then I met someone who was working to change things. He had a plan to make things better for these people. You’ll meet him in a moment.” He turned toward the male ferox standing next to him. “Tell Nicholas we’re here.”

The ferox nodded and hurried off.

“You said you have a job for me,” Zane said. There was something unsettling about this conversation. Danum had always been a pragmatist. Something had changed him.

“Yes,” Danum said. “We need you to steal something. Something…difficult to obtain.”

Zane frowned. “We’re ferox. Not thieves.”

“You can kill someone along the way if it makes you feel better.”

Zane bit back a response. This was not the same old bureaucrat he’d known in Langton. “What do you need me to steal?”

“It’s a ruby—” Danum’s voice cut off suddenly as his gaze drifted over Zane’s shoulders. His eyes lit up. “Ah, Nicholas is here. He’s the one I was telling you about.”

A deep voice came from behind Zane. “Ferox Halloway and I have already met. But I wonder if he remembers.”

Zane turned and saw a Cragsman behind him. His hair was different, he wore it in the traditional Craggish bun now, but Zane recognized him. Even after all this time. He was the first Cragsman Zane had ever seen. The Cragsman from that night on the docks eighteen years before. He wore the diamond-shaped shimmer on a thin chain around his neck.

“I’m Nicholas,” the Cragsman said, “and I believe you and I once again have business to discuss.”

CHAPTER TWO

“The issue is not the border itself,” Prince Christopher said. “The issue is the thousands of people living between the border and the river. What you’re asking for could greatly affect their way of life.”

Prince Christopher was the younger brother of the King of Opel, but it was clear he was inexperienced in matters of diplomacy. He’d repeatedly displayed a tendency to speak bluntly over the past two weeks.

Gullins, the High Prince of the Crags, leaned forward. “Tell me, Prince Christopher, which will be the greater inconvenience? A few Craggish merchants passing through their lands each week, or Tavel soldiers crossing the border, claiming the territory, and burning down their homes?”

Lily had been struggling to keep her eyes open for the past hour, but this last statement made her sit up and pay attention. Gullins was here as a formality. As the greatest warrior and current figurehead of the Craggish government, he was expected to be in attendance at the diplomatic table. For the past two weeks, he’d been here on and off, coming and going throughout the day, but he’d hardly spoken a word. He’d looked as bored as Lily felt.

The fact that he was speaking now showed how far the conversation had deteriorated.

Lily, Prince Christopher, and the rest of the Opelean diplomatic party were here to negotiate the help of the Craggish army in the war against Tavel. To Lily’s surprise, the first few days of negotiations had been fairly interesting. In fact, it all reminded her a bit of her time as a ferox apprentice. Each side had certain things they wanted and things they were willing to give up to get those things. It was fascinating to watch the way each side revealed pieces of information. The two nations had very different strategies. While Prince Christopher and the Opelean crew tried to play tough, complaining and grumbling over each concession they made, the Cragsmen and Cragswomen used a different tactic, attempting to appear generous, willing to offer anything and everything in their power. It was just that their powers were limited and there were severe strains on what they were able to make happen.

In a way, each group was mirroring the perceived personality of the other. Most Opeleans thought the Craggish were a strong and unforgiving people, while the Craggish diplomats seemed to think the Opeleans weak. The strange mirroring of strategies led to many dead ends, and Lily eventually lost interest as the progress turned to regress and the arguments doubled back on themselves.

The current point of contention was around access to the Harken River. The Crags were landlocked, and their most valuable exports were spices, which only grew at extreme elevations. Currently, the spices were transported southeast through Tavel, then up the Gamlond Channel to the Gamlond Sea. However, taking the spices northeast through Opel to the Harken River would give them a more direct path to the Gamlond Sea and would reduce their expenses.

Prince Christopher didn’t want to give up the rights of passage through southern Opel, at least not without a very hefty tax, and Gullins wasn’t about to send troops to help Opel without it. Round and round it went, progressing by mere inches, if at all.

Lily sat at the far end of the table with three Craggish abditus. Unlike the Opelean abditus who had no official uniform of their station, they wore a dark forest green, a color uncommon in the rocky, dry climate of the Crags.

In the last two weeks, they’d said nothing. Not even a greeting when she’d arrived. It was infuriating. The whole reason Lily was here, the official reason anyway, was that an abditus was expected to accompany any diplomatic envoy. They’d even prepared a special place at the table for her. Then they’d promptly ignored her.

Except for the abditus, who watched her with their blank expressions and their continually disappointed grimaces. It felt like being back under Zane’s tutelage.

Sometimes she wondered if the Craggish abditus were as bored as she was. Periodically, they would perform some tiny bit of magic: a flame appearing in midair, or a glass of water spontaneously coming to a boil. They reminded her of the kids in Abditus Academy, so impressed with the magic they were learning that they’d spend every spare moment in class idly using the devices they’d created. But these weren’t school children; these were Craggish abditus.

She wanted to ask them about their magical devices, partly out of curiosity and partly just to kill the boredom, but she thought it might be rude. Jacob had told her to observe the proceedings and to keep her mouth shut, and that was what she intended to do. There were so many rules here, and she sat at this table all day, always aware that she might be unwittingly breaking one of them. There had already been three fights at the negotiation table. Only one resulted in serious injury, which was apparently quite a low number for Craggish negotiations.

“Cragsmen passing through their land would affect their lives quite a lot,” Prince Christopher said, his voice a bit higher pitched than usual. Lily thought he was probably going for indignant, but he came off sounding like a petulant child. “We simply don’t have the infrastructure in that part of the country to support dozens of merchants passing through each day. The damage to the roads alone would cause a tax burden.”

“Which would be offset by the commerce our merchants would provide,” Gullins countered.

Part of the reason Lily was so distracted was she couldn’t stop thinking about the things she had seen the previous night. The outcast Cragsmen and Cragswomen lived underground in conditions which contrasted sharply with the luxury she saw all around her in the royal palace. And why? Because they’d lost a fight. Casting out valuable members of society simply because they’d lost a fight was beyond idiotic.

“Or it discourages dueling,” Zane had suggested after they’d left. “In a society that prizes strength above all else, that could quickly become a problem. The threat of being outcast would ensure the fights were at least well considered.”

She’d grudgingly agreed with that point.

They hadn’t learned much more about the job Nicholas wanted them to do. No, he didn’t want them, Lily reminded herself. He wanted Zane. He wanted a ferox, and she wasn’t a ferox.

All they knew was he wanted Zane to steal a ruby. A ruby Nicholas felt could help his cause of improving the lives of his fellow outcasts. Zane was supposed to be meeting with Nicholas that day to learn more.

Zane had seemed a bit strange ever since he’d seen Nicholas. There was something the ferox didn’t like about the man. When Lily had asked him about it, he’d brushed her off. Same old Zane. Always keeping secrets. But she was the same old Lily, too. She’d keep at it until she discovered what he didn’t want her to know.

Then there was the matter of Caleb. He’d betrayed her, betrayed all of Opel, but he’d said his feelings for her were real. She believed him, in spite of everything. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about him. There was anger simmering inside her, always threatening to boil over into rage. Beneath that, there was something else. Something raw. It stung to think about it, so she tried to push it out of her mind.

The previous night, Danum had promised he’d reveal everything he knew about Caleb, without actually betraying his vow not to describe the exact jobs he’d been hired to do, but after Nicholas had showed up, Danum had refused to discuss the matter any further. Perhaps Zane would find out more information about Caleb when he met with Nicholas.

One of the abditus across the table was holding a coin in his hand. He noticed Lily looking at it and a coy smile played across his lips. He flipped the coin into the air. When it reached the pinnacle of its ascent he made a strange gesture with his other hand, and it suddenly shot much higher into the air, almost touching the high ceiling before falling back to his hand.

Lily sat up a bit straighter. That was glide magic. The same type of thing her devices did. Only this Cragsman didn’t seem to be holding a device. Either the coin itself was enchanted, he had a device hidden somewhere on his person, or…No, she wouldn’t allow herself to consider that last possibility. These were Cragsmen, yes, but they were human. A bit taller and broader than Opeleans on average, but still human. None of the many, often gruesome, stories Lily had ever heard about them had even hinted that they might have the elf-like ability to conjure magic from their bare hands.

The other two abditus had noticed Lily perk up at the display with the coin, and they were all watching her closely now. The one on the right was leaning forward in his chair, as if he was anticipating her doing something.

Lily had the sudden realization that it might not be boredom driving these abditus to their occasional displays of magic. It was possible there’d been a carefully orchestrated negotiation going on at this end of the table as well. One she hadn’t been aware of until now.

She casually reached into her boot and pulled out a long knife. She brought it up slowly, in the least possible threatening manner. The last thing she wanted was to have her actions misinterpreted and cause another fight. But she needn’t have worried. The men and women at the other end of the table were absorbed in their passionate debate; the three Craggish abditus were the only ones watching her. And they were practically salivating.

She took the knife by the blade and gently tossed it into the air. The way she gripped it and the angle at which she released it caused the glide-enhanced knife to perform exactly as she’d designed it to: it spun into the air and paused, twisting unnaturally just before it began its descent. It rocketed straight down at her open palm, point-first, causing one of the Craggish abditus to softly gasp. Then it froze less than an inch above her palm and hovered there. She snatched it out of the air with her other hand and put it back in her boot.

She looked from one abditus to the next, her face blank, her demeanor saying she didn’t care in the least what they’d thought of her little display. But she did care. For she now realized they’d been anxiously waiting for her to prove herself worthy of their conversation and attention.

The three abditus exchanged glances, then the one on the left said loudly, “Gracious nobles, it is our great honor that you have included us in the discussion thus far.”

Prince Christopher stared at the abditus, his mouth wide open and his brow creased with annoyance. He’d been making an impassioned speech about the sanctity of Opelean territory, and King Edward’s brother was not a man who was used to being interrupted.

Gullins, on the other hand, smiled warmly, as if this interruption was a sign the negotiations were progressing. And perhaps it was.

The abditus continued, “As you know, the men and women of the Wavering Cloth are not happy unless we are tinkering with our little baubles. As a show of good faith and a gesture of hospitality, we ask that you excuse us, along with the Opelean abditus, from the remainder of these proceedings, that we might give her space to work and perhaps hone all our skills by sharing some of the methods of our craft.”

Gullins replied immediately. “My dear Calond, you have honored us by participating this long. Please go, and with our blessing. If it’s all right with Prince Christopher, of course.”

The prince stammered as if he were trying to understand what he was being asked to agree to. “Well, yes, I mean, if it’s agreeable to Miss Rhodes, I imagine she won’t be needed, if of course I have your word that she’ll be kept safe and that she’s allowed to return. If you take my meaning, which I expect you do.”

The abditus Calond bowed his head graciously, subtly letting the prince out of his obligation to babble further. “You do have my word, Prince Christopher. She will be free to return at her pleasure. In the meantime, we’ll keep her safe as boulders.”

The prince blinked hard, clearly unfamiliar with the expression. “Yes, well, get on with it, then.”

The three abditus stood as one and turned toward the door. Lily bowed deeply to the nobles and quickly followed. The abditus led her out into the stone hallway.

They stopped and introduced themselves. Calond was a broad, well-muscled man who could have passed for a warrior. The second man was the tallest of them, and also the oldest. The bun of hair on top of his head was pure white. His name was Marcus. The third, the one who’d done the coin trick, was the only Cragsman Lily had ever seen wearing spectacles. His name was Bernard.

After the introductions were made, Calond said, “I must admit, you had us a bit worried. Your lack of response to all the classic openings…we weren’t sure what to make of it. You didn’t respond to demonstrations of fire or water. It was Bernard who suggested you might be making a statement by waiting for air.”

Lily blinked hard. Classic openings? She silently cursed Jacob. He’d told her she’d only be expected to watch and listen. Why hadn’t he prepared her properly? Unless, perhaps, he hadn’t known. He’d never mentioned coming to the Crags himself, and she’d never asked if he had.

It was a rare thing for an Opelean abditus to be allowed to interact with a Craggish abditus. Their sect was shrouded with mystery. And here Lily was being invited to work alongside them. It was possible she was going to see things no Opelean abditus ever had.

Jacob must not have known, Lily decided. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have sent a mere apprentice. The Cragsmen didn’t know she was an apprentice, of course. And they couldn’t find out. They would see it as a grave disrespect, and negotiations would break down. But apparently the king had decided it was worth the risk; full abditus were too valuable on the battlefield to waste one at the negotiation table.

Calond continued, “It showed great confidence, holding out like that. It was, in retrospect, a very strong opening maneuver. Tell me, Miss Rhodes, what level are you?”

Lily’s mouth went dry. She had no idea what he was talking about. Level? Was that something she would learn about after she passed her abditus placement exam?

She paused, trying to decide how to respond. If she admitted her ignorance, she might give away the fact that she wasn’t a full-fledged abditus. But if she made something up, that could expose her just as quickly. These Cragsmen seemed to like confidence, so she would have to take that route.

She looked Calond dead in the eye. “Sir, I’ve known you by name for all of five seconds. Levels are not something I’m going to talk about. I believe trust has to be earned before any information can be exchanged.”

He nodded, his eyes bright. He was clearly impressed. “Indeed. Your philosophy very much echoes our own.” He glanced at Bernard and Marcus. “And, if I may speak for my colleagues, you are well on your way to earning our trust.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “Now then, how about we work on earning some of yours? We have some magic to show you.”

CHAPTER THREE

Zane walked quickly, doubling his effort to keep up with Nicholas’s much longer strides and purposeful pace. They were ascending a seemingly endless staircase leading up from the underground tunnel system Nicholas and his people called home.

“It’s a rare bit of irony, this,” the Cragsman said. “We live in the deepest of the depths, but we are connected by a single staircase to the highest heights of the city. That’s what they don’t understand up here. Everything is connected. Even us, the forgotten ones.”

Zane knew a bit of Craggish culture. He knew that these mountain people prized the peaks above all else. Supposedly, it could be traced back to their rural ancestry, back when tribes would often battle and the high ground was considered the ideal fighting position. Or perhaps it was because the most valuable spices only grew at the highest elevations. Either way, it had carried into modern urban living, and the social status of each person could easily be determined, even by a foreigner like Zane, by simply checking the elevation of his or her home. Gullins, the current warrior head of state, lived in a palace built into the highest peak in the city. Nicholas and his kind lived literally beneath the feet of their betters. Everyone else was somewhere in between.

“Ah, here we are,” Nicholas said as he reached the top of the stairs. He put his hands on his hips and looked out at a view Zane could not yet see. “Look, Ferox Halloway, at my countrymen. Have you ever seen such luxury?”

Zane climbed the last few steps and joined Nicholas on the platform. He told himself it was the view, not the hundreds of steps he’d just climbed, that was making it difficult to catch his breath. And it was quite the view.

They stood on a stone platform looking out over the city of Sicar. A few homes, including Gullins’s palace, were above them, but most were built into the sides of the mountains below. And Zane had to admit, the luxury was on display was impressive. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a city so clean. The roads wound serpentine up the mountains, with frequent switchbacks to ease the ascent. Despite the harsh climate here, the roads were made of brick, and Zane saw no potholes or gaps. They were in immaculate condition.

“Every house you see belongs to a wealthy family,” Nicholas said. “The riches in this city…they are difficult to believe. Most of these families made their fortunes in spices generations ago and are still living off the proceeds. Some still farm, but most had their fill of the violence involved in running a modern, producing spice farm.”

“And how about you?” Zane asked. Nicholas had the air of someone who’d grown up rich.

“I was raised not far from here. I come from a farming family. The social status you’re born with doesn’t matter as much with our countrymen as it does with yours. All children are taken away from their parents at the age of five to begin their training. Once they’ve successfully finished training and have proven themselves as warriors, their parents can take them back into the family if they feel they’ve earned their place.”

“And did yours? Before you threw it all away on a duel, I mean.” It was standard operating procedure for Zane to needle his potential clients a bit. Learning what upset them, how far they could be pushed, and how they’d respond helped him better understand them. It was part of what helped him decide whether he wanted to take the job. But with Nicholas, it was a bit easier. Every time Zane saw that diamond shimmer hanging from the chain on his neck, it wasn’t hard to muster the vitriol to insult the man.

Nicholas chuckled. “You don’t understand much about Craggish culture, do you? It wasn’t me who agreed to the duel. It was my parents.”

Zane raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.

“It started innocently enough, I’d imagine. My parents had a competitive, but not violent, feud with another farming family. Things escalated over time. Eventually, blood was spilled by one side or the other. There was retribution…” His voice trailed off for a moment. Then he continued. “When both families had sons within the same year, it seemed like a convenient way to settle things. It was decided the two of us would duel when we came of age. The winning family would take possession of a portion of the losing family’s farms. I trained next to my promised enemy for sixteen years before the battle.”

Zane shifted his weight to his other foot. He’d assumed Nicholas was some hothead who’d agreed to a duel over a slight. He’d never imagined it would be something like this.

“The funny part is that it didn’t even matter in the end,” Nicholas said. “Six months after my duel, our families were squabbling about something new. I’m banished to the nether regions of the city for life, and it didn’t even buy my family peace.”

“That must have been…difficult,” Zane said. He was usually better at showing compassion, even when he had to fake it. In this case, he genuinely pitied Nicholas. But the fact that the Cragsman had that shimmer around his neck placed a limit on how far Zane’s empathy went.

Nicholas nodded. “It was difficult. But it wasn’t unique.” He turned and gestured down the staircase behind them. “Every man and woman in the underneath has a story like that. Some more dramatic, some more mundane, but they all end in the same place.”

“What about their children?” Zane asked. “Are they banished, too?”

“That is the one hope most of these people have. When their children are five years old, they’re taken to train with the rest of the children. Then their future depends on their ability to learn to fight. They have the same chances as anyone else. It’s a true meritocracy.” He turned back toward the city. “Or so the people up here would say. In truth, the children of the underneath are often malnourished. They are prone to sickness and have less access to balms and doctors when they are ill. They are starting out so far behind their wealthier peers that it’s impossible for most of them to catch up. There have been a few from the underneath that have made good, but it’s rare. Of course, these people up here say it’s because we are lazy. Or stupid. I ask you, Ferox, in a city so filled with wealth, should it be this way? Should some starve while others have so much?”

Zane scratched his chin. On the one hand, he was seeing an aspect of the Crags that was never discussed in Opel. The dark side of their supposedly invincible warrior culture. On the other hand, he was here to do a job, and he wasn’t learning much about it. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, I am not all-powerful, Nicholas. Restructuring your society for better treatment of the poor is not a task I am prepared to take on.”

Nicholas chuckled. “No. That’s my job.”

Zane felt his hackles raise a bit at that. He nodded toward the shimmer hanging at Nicholas’s throat. “One you’ll accomplish by manipulating the emotions of your people?”

Nicholas frowned. “Yes. I make no excuses or apologies for that. When I came to the underneath, they were practically feral, fighting for every scrap the rich threw them. Minor leaders would spring up, each reigning for a brief period of time before someone stuck a knife in his back and took the power.”

“And how did you take power?”

He looked at Zane sharply. “I did what I needed to do. My hands are not clean of blood. I’ve killed before and I likely will again. But always for the good of my people. I needed them focused. I needed them to get behind me.”

“You needed them to love you.”

“Aye, that too,” Nicholas said. “And they need me. My time is limited and the job is large. I’ll take any shortcut I can get, and I won’t apologize for it. Not to you, an abditus-turned-ferox.”

Zane’s clients often felt the need to rationalize their behavior, to explain to him why what they were doing was right, why it was necessary. He knew they wanted him to voice his agreement, to pardon them of their crimes. As if he was some sort of priest. As if he had any moral authority at all. He never did it. It was his job to find things, to break into people’s homes, sometimes to kill. He wouldn’t excuse himself for the things he’d done and he certainly wasn’t going to excuse his clients. Especially not Nicholas.

He decided he’d had enough rationalization for one day. “Tell me about the job.”

Nicholas nodded, then turned toward the palace. “You say restructuring society is no easy task, and indeed it is so. But in the Crags, unlike in your nation, it is at least possible. Gullins rules by virtue of his status as the supreme warrior. Anyone who defeats him in single combat takes his place.”

“I don’t think I’m the ruling type,” Zane said dryly.

Nicholas ignored the comment. “He can accept a challenge at any time, but he is required to do so at least once every five years.”

“So challenge him.”

“You are indeed a master strategist,” Nicholas said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The problem is two-fold. Firstly, he bested his last challenger only two years ago, and he has made it clear he won’t be fighting again until he’s required to do so. He says it’s so he has time to rule rather than constantly having to train and fight, but I have my doubts. I believe he may have lost his warrior’s spirit. He’s nearly thirty-five. I’d rather not wait three years to have my next opportunity. Secondly, when the five years are up, there will be a plethora of challengers. He’ll select another noble, likely a friend. He would never consider someone from the underneath, someone who has already lost a duel with a lesser opponent. Even if he won the fight, the people would grumble that he’d selected an unworthy opponent so he could keep his throne.”

“I see the problem. What do we do about it?”

Nicholas smiled. “We give him motivation. Gullins comes from a distinguished family, some would say the most distinguished family in the Crags. They were the owners of the first elevated spice farm three centuries ago. And on that farmland, they unearthed a sizable ruby, supposedly the largest ever found in the Crags. The ruby has become a symbol of their family and their heritage.”

Zane sighed. “May I assume this is the ruby you wish me to steal?”

Nicholas clapped him on the back. “Again, you show your powers of perception. We need to give Gullins a reason to accept my challenge. If I were to have his family’s heirloom, and if I were to offer it back to him in exchange for dueling me, he would have no choice but to comply.”

Zane took a deep breath at looked at the lofty heights of the palace. When Nicholas had told him the ruby was in that place, a twinge of excitement had raced through him. It was a unique opportunity. The best warriors in the Crags, likely in the world, called that palace home. To sneak in and steal a ruby, one that certainly would be guarded by Gullins’s most trusted allies, would be a challenge bordering on the impossible. The very thought thrilled him.

Sometimes, Zane wondered if there might be something wrong with him.

But he couldn’t accept the job simply because it was a challenge. The future of a nation was at stake.

“You have the money to pay me?” Zane asked.

Nicholas nodded. “Twenty-five Opelean thrones. It will be the second time I’ve paid you that sum, if I recall correctly.”

Zane wondered how an outcast living in the underneath had that kind of coin, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to complicate the morals of this situation any further.

“I have a few additional conditions,” Zane said.

Nicholas didn’t even pause. “Name them.”

“I want your word that, if you defeat Gullins, you’ll send at least one-third of your army to assist Opel in the war against Tavel.”

Nicholas thought for a moment. “In return, we’d need access to the trade routes—”

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Zane said. “I have neither the authority nor the inclination. I’ll be giving you your chance at the crown, and that’s worth more than the coin you’re paying. Take it or leave it.”

The Cragsman nodded. “Done. I’ll send them directly east. Make Tavel fight a two-front war.”

“I’m not interested in the details. Next, when I have the ruby, I will trade it to you in exchange for the shimmer you received from Jacob Von Ridden.”

Zane could see frustration in the creases on the Cragsman’s face.

“You should not press me, Ferox.”

“If it makes you feel better, you can destroy it instead of giving it to me,” Zane said. “I won’t be a part of helping you win the crown if you keep that shimmer.”

Nicholas grunted. “Fine. Once you have the ruby, I’ll destroy the shimmer. Now if there are no other conditions—”

“There is one other condition.” Zane paused, drawing out the tension. “Caleb Longstrain is here in Sicar. I have reason to believe you’ve had some dealing with him. Am I wrong?”

“You are not,” Nicholas said carefully.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about what he’s up to before I begin. And when I come into possession of the ruby, I’ll require you to help me find him. I’ll give you the ruby when you have done so. Not before.”

Nicholas looked at Zane. “You are not of this culture, so you don’t understand how the things you are asking are perceived. You ask for concession after concession, as if I am weak.”

“I know you are not weak,” Zane said, “and I’m not asking for concessions. I’m merely stating my price. Will you pay it?”

The Cragsman took a long look up at the palace. “I will.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Lily followed Calond and the others up a staircase and out onto a flat roof. It was a huge open space, and she was reminded of the end of her ferox placement exam. That had been on a flat roof, too, and it was there she’d met her first Cragsman. And, she reminded herself, defeated him. Of course, she now knew he’d probably been an outcast, the loser of a duel who’d fled his own nation to avoid the fate of living in the underneath. But how that man had moved. The strength and the speed. The sheer ferocity. It was unlike anything Lily had ever seen. If that was how a loser fought in this society, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see how the winners did it.

When they reached the center of the roof, the three abditus stopped and turned toward Lily. A stiff wind was blowing, and a chill ran through her.

Calond must have seen Lily shiver, because he said, “I apologize for the location. I know our temperatures are cooler than those to which you lowlanders are accustomed. Some of the items we wish to show you require…space.”

Lily did her best to steel herself against the cold. She silently vowed not to shiver again. She couldn’t afford to show even the slightest weakness in front of these people. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Calond smiled thinly. “Good.” He clapped his hands together. “This is a rare opportunity, Miss Rhodes, rare for all of us. I assume you know about the differences in philosophy between your Abditus Society and our own?”

Lily said, “I know that your Society is secretive. Unlike the Tavel Society, you don’t share advancements and discoveries with us. And we’re at war with Tavel.”

His smile dropped slightly. “That’s not exactly accurate. It’s just that our approaches to magic are so different, trying to explain our advancements to your Society would be like explaining a mounted weak arm shot to a boy who had yet to break his first colt.”

Bernard and Marcus laughed loudly as if Calond had just told a great joke. Lily had no idea what her host was talking about.

“Lily, may I speak freely?” Calond asked.

She nodded. If he hadn’t been speaking freely so far, she was almost afraid to hear what he’d say next.

“We’ve studied the magical devices of Opel, and we’ve found them a bit…well, comical.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?” She noticed her hand had unconsciously drifted to the hilt of her sword.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Calond said. “You have so many brilliant minds. Our Society is quite envious. We haven’t implemented anything nearly as effective as your Tens test, so I believe many of those with magical potential in the Crags go undetected and untrained. What we don’t understand is why there is so much emphasis on different types of devices. Tangles, shimmers, glides, on and on it goes.”

“Are you saying you don’t have those things?” Lily asked.

“I’m saying we don’t need them. And I struggle to see why anyone does. So much energy is put toward creating a thousand subtle and crafty variations of each type of device, each with its own strange way of behaving. I assume you’ve studied the work of Irving Farns?”

Lily nodded. She didn’t feel the need to tell these Cragsmen about the role she’d played in the famed abditus’s demise. Or that of his daughter.

“He’s the perfect example of the wasted potential I’m talking about!” Calond said. He was getting excited as he spoke, and his gestures were getting larger. “The complicated tangles he made! And the dozens of different variations. Why do you have so many varieties? We can’t figure it out.”

“If our devices are so comical, why do you want to hear about them? Why even bring me out here?”

Bernard, the Cragsman with the spectacles, looked at Calond, as if he were asking for permission to speak. Calond gave him a quick nod.

Bernard turned to Lily. “To be honest, we weren’t sure we would bring you out here. Our past experiences with Opelean abditus have not been productive. But when we saw the dagger you enchanted, it changed our minds. We understand that applying magics to weapons is not a common practice in Opel.”

“No,” she said. “It isn’t.” That wasn’t entirely true. There were many swords with some type of thorn built into them, and many soldiers carried shields embedded with tangles. But she wasn’t about to tell these Cragsmen that. Not while they were still in the negotiation phase. It was true that she hadn’t seen anyone else use a glide on a sword.

Calond and his two silent cohorts were watching her intently, as if what she was about to say would solve all their problems. But how much should she tell them?

She looked at Calond. “If I explain the nature of our devices, you’ll tell me about yours?”

Calond nodded.

“All right.” She took a deep breath and tried to remember the way Jacob had explained it to her when she’d known nothing about magic. “All magical devices use the same pool of energy. It’s like a well. Think of the different types of devices as different shaped buckets. Let’s look at thorns and tangles, since they are diametrically opposed. Thorns take the energy and focus it in a specific way to a specific end. The materials used and the way they are formed can cause dramatic shifts in the way thorns direct magic. A minor change could change a fire thorn into an ice thorn.”

She saw the Cragsmen were all trying to hide smiles. She got the feeling she was talking way below their level. She ignored their expressions and continued.

“Tangles gather energy and hold it in place. A tangle might be built to protect against a wide variety of thorns, but in that case it will be fairly ineffective against all of them. However, a tangle specifically designed to stop a particular thorn can be fine-tuned to be very powerful indeed, sometimes even making it so that thorn doesn’t function at all.” She thought back to the tangles she’d used to deactivate the Cull Flames back on The Empire pirate ship.

“You asked why we have such a wide variety of devices. Why Irving Farns spent his time on so many different items? The answer is that thornsmen and tanglesmen are in a sort of endless chess match. Every time the thornsmen come up with a new device, the tanglesmen come up with a way to make it ineffective. And every time the tanglesmen develop a new tangle, the thornsmen find a thorn that can get past it.” She paused and saw they were looking at her more seriously now. “The rest, glides, shimmers, and balms, are most often used for convenience or everyday purposes, though they are occasionally used in battle, as you saw with my dagger.”

“Fascinating,” Marcus, the oldest Cragsman, muttered. Calond shot him a look.

“Your turn,” Lily said. “You said you don’t use the same types of devices we do?”

Again, Bernard looked at Calond, and again Calond nodded at him.

“We are aware of these types of devices,” Bernard said, “and we occasionally use them. I’d imagine balms are as common here as they are in Opel.”

“And glides,” Lily said. “I saw what you did with the coin.”

Bernard smiled and tilted his head, like one might when fielding a question from an especially precocious child. “That was not a glide. It was a thorn.” Before she could ask how that could possibly be a thorn, he continued, “As to the other types of devices…the vast majority of our study goes into thorns. Rather than creating dozens of thorns that can each sneak past specific tangles, we prefer to create only a few thorns powerful enough to push through any tangle.”

Now it was Lily’s turn to smile. “You’ll have to excuse me if I find that a bit difficult to believe.”

Calond chuckled. “Understandable. Tell me, Lily, as the abditus representative on a diplomatic mission, I assume you brought with you a collection of high-quality magical devices?”

“I do have a number of items of sufficient quality, yes.” In truth, she had a collection of the best of the best from the royal magical armory, hand-selected by Jacob. She was well-trained in the use of all of them. She’d also brought a few that Jacob didn’t know about, including her enchanted sword and a couple of old favorites.

Calond clapped his hands together, apparently unable to contain his delight. “Wonderful! Perhaps you would be so kind as to agree to a friendly duel?”

Lily paused. A magical duel. Once such things had been very common in Opel, but when the number of deaths grew during the magical boom and the time of Irving Farns, dueling fell out of vogue. It was foolishness, showing her abilities and weapons to possible enemies for the sake of a meaningless contest. Still, Lily couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“Tell me, Calond,” she said. “Will the loser be sent to the underneath?”

His smiled wavered, and his eyes widened. “You show a surprising understanding of Craggish culture. But, no, as I said, this is to be a friendly duel. No one will be killed or banished. On either side.”

Lily thought for a moment. They said they favored thorns. Powerful thorns. They’d mentioned fire, water, and air. She had the tangle she’d used to shut down the Cull Flames. That would also work on water. An air thorn could be a problem, but if she could get the jump on her opponent, perhaps that would not be an issue.

And then there was the idea that she was about to see a Craggish abditus in action. How many Opeleans had ever seen that? The Crags mostly kept to itself, other than to sell spices, and all the fighting they’d done in recent memory had been internal.

“All right,” she said. “I’m willing to do it.”

Calond nodded, clearly pleased. He turned to the older abditus. “Marcus, would you mind representing us?”

“Not in the least.” The elder Cragsman’s voice had a rich, slow quality that made Lily think of molasses. “I came prepared.” He lifted his hands, causing the long sleeves of his green cloak to fall back, revealing his hands for the first time. Each of his long fingers had a ring on it, and they were all thorns.

There was one small mystery solved.

Lily reached into the pouch at her belt and pulled out a few rings of her own, as well as a short stick the length of her hand. Her own air thorn. This was the device she hoped would give her the upper hand. She drew her sword.

“Does the young lady promise not to cut me in half?” Marcus asked. There was a strange, hypnotic quality in the way he spoke.

“She does,” Lily said.

“Fine, fine,” Calond said. “Remember not to kill each other. I doubt our noble diplomats would be pleased.” With that, he and Bernard stepped back, allowing the two abditus to face each other.

“When you’re ready,” Marcus said.

Lily nodded and flicked her wrist, activating the air thorn in her left hand.

Marcus’s eyes suddenly widened as he realized he was unable to breathe. The air thorn pulled the air away from him. It wouldn’t last long, that was the downside of this particular thorn. Still, Lily liked using it to put her opponent off guard. By the time he was able to breathe again, she’d have her sword at his throat.

She lunged toward him, intending to give him a non-lethal strike with the flat of her blade. Her glide-enhanced sword moved quickly, but Marcus had enough time to raise his hand.

Suddenly, Lily felt a powerful gust of wind slam into her, and she flew backward. She watched in helpless horror as the roof raced beneath her feet, and she went over the edge. She was so shocked, so surprised at this violent assault during this supposedly friendly duel that she barely activated the glide in her ring in time to save herself. She touched the ring on her finger and concentrated on not falling.

An air thorn. That was what they’d meant by an air thorn. She’d never seen anything quite like it. Her glides changed the way gravity affected a target. This was something else. Using wind as a weapon. She’d never seen it done before, but she could now personally testify to its effectiveness.

She now understood how the abditus had sent the coin into the air with a thorn. What she’d assumed was a glide had actually been a thorn sending a blast of air upward, and apparently a lot more gently than the gust of wind that had just sent her flying through the air.

She eventually drifted to a stop, and she tapped the ring again, pushing it to move her forward. She wasn’t positive she would make it; the glide had limited range. She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped back onto the roof.

“Marcus!” Calond barked.

The elder Cragsman looked genuinely surprised. “I’m sorry. I thought her tangle—”

Calond cut him off. “Have a little care in the force you use.”

Marcus looked at her, questioning, as if he was unsure how to proceed. Her blood was flowing hot in her veins. Now that she was prepared for the power of his assaults, things would go differently.

“Shall we continue?” she asked.

Marcus nodded. He brought up his hand again, sending out another mighty blast of wind. But this time, Lily was expecting it, and she used her glide to shoot upward and to the right, avoiding the attack. She spun in the air and threw her sword, activating the glide so it flew straight and true.  It flipped in midair, and the hilt struck him in the stomach. The Cragsman fell backward with an “Oof.”

She held out her hand and the sword returned to her. With her other hand, she activated another glide, which caused Marcus to skid toward her, as if she were pulling him forward with a rope. She stopped him when he was six feet away. She raised her sword, preparing to deliver another disabling strike, when he looked up and smiled. Apparently he’d recovered more quickly than Lily had anticipated.

He opened his left hand, and a flame shot out of it.

The flame died before it reached Lily, but still she was taken aback. She had activated her tangle, the same one she’d used so effectively against the Cull Flames on Amber Longstrain’s ship. A fire thorn shouldn’t be working at all, not at this proximity.

Before she had time to react, he fired another flame. She actually felt the heat of it before her tangle made it dissipate.

He quickly fired again, and this time the fire got even closer, singeing her shirt. She suddenly realized he was testing her. Seeing how much her tangle could handle. If he wasn’t using his thorn at full capacity, she was in real trouble.

It was time to end this charade. She brought her sword down before he could fire again, swinging it full speed and using the glide to stop it less than an inch from his throat. She felt a shiver of satisfaction at the flash of panic in his wide eyes.

“I think that is a killing blow,” Lily said, holding the sword in place against his neck in case he got any ideas about using his thorn.

Marcus bowed his head. “Agreed. The victory goes to you, Abditus Lily Rhodes.”

Across the roof, Calond and Bernard clapped, real delight on their faces.

“Well done,” Calond called. “Very well done indeed.”

As the other two abditus approached, Lily leaned down and whispered to Marcus, “How powerful is that thorn? How much were you holding back?”

Marcus looked up at her, and for the first time she saw the arrogance behind his polite facade. “If I’d used it at full strength, you’d be nothing but ash and bone.”

Calond reached them and clapped them both on the back. “Very enlightening, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes,” Lily said. “Indeed it was.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Zane and Lily were back on the same ledge they’d stood on the first night they met in the Crags. The night they’d began their hunt for Caleb.

They crouched among the rocks, looking down over most of the city, but still under the shadows cast by the light from the palace above them.

He’d already shared with her the information Nicholas had given him on Caleb. The former King’s Sword had been to the underneath a few times to consult with Nicholas. He’d been seeking information on Craggish culture, and he’d paid well for the information. He’d hired Danum and the other ferox to dig up dirt on two of the more prominent families in Sicar. The information was less helpful than either Zane or Lily had hoped.

Now the conversation had turned to the job at hand, and Zane was seeing a side of Lily he hadn’t seen since their reunion on Amber Longstrain’s ship: Lily was arguing with him.

“It’s your pride, that’s what it is,” she said.

He sighed. “That’s not it at all. It’s mere practicality. I’m thinking of you. You can’t be involved.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she said, “but I don’t need you looking out for me anymore.”

She wanted to take part in the job to steal the ruby from High Prince Gullins’s chambers. Zane could see it from her perspective. She was living inside the palace, and the staff was used to seeing her. In one sense, it would be easier for her to get around the castle. On the other hand, she was visiting as a diplomat. There was little doubt they kept a close eye on her in the palace. It was a testament to her skills that she was able to sneak out at night to help Zane. But within the palace…Zane had no doubt someone was reporting on her movements, and a report of her going anywhere near Gullins’s chambers would get passed up the chain pretty quickly.

But she wasn’t hearing his arguments. Her faith in her own skills was absolute, a fact that was sure to do her great harm someday. He decided to take a different approach.

“Lily, imagine for a moment that the job doesn’t go well. That we get caught. If I’m caught alone, fine. It would be embarrassing for Opel, and I’m sure it wouldn’t help negotiations. Still, at the end of the day, I’m a lone operator. A ferox. You, however, are a member of a diplomatic mission to seek Gullins’s help. Imagine how negotiations would go if you were caught attempting to steal the High Prince’s family heirloom.”

Lily let out a joyless laugh. “Caught? When have we ever been caught?”

“Aside from Ewrkind capturing me and forcing you to steal the Farns device for him?”

Lily frowned. “That was different. We were at his home eating dinner, and he turned on us. That’s hardly the same as being caught sneaking in somewhere.”

“I seem to remember an elf discovering us that night in the Oasis. You remember that?” He knew that she did. It had been her first encounter with an elf. No one forgot that kind of thing.

“The point is, it doesn’t happen often!” Lily said. “And I’m better now than I was then.”

“I’m not,” Zane said quietly. It was something he’d felt for a while now but hadn’t been able to put into words.

“No,” Lily said. “You’re not.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise at that. He’d expected her to disagree with his assertion.

“I saw it that day on Amber Longstrain’s ship,” she continued. “When Caleb had you at sword point.”

He waited, wondering what she meant. He wasn’t yet forty, but lately he’d been feeling every year of his age. Ferox assassins were not a long-lived people. He knew deep inside that he was getting slower. Not much, but a little. And against the types of people he’d been facing lately, a little could be the difference between life and death.

She looked at him for a long moment, as if reading his thoughts. “It wasn’t your skills. You move as well as you ever did. You’re strong. Fast. That wasn’t what I noticed.”

“Then what was it?”

She gestured toward his face. “It was there. In your eyes.”

That surprised him.

“As long as I’ve known you, you’ve done everything in your power to win,” she said. “Any job you took, you went after it with everything you had. God, you remember Irving Farns? The way you got yourself invited to that dinner at the Abditus Society? The gusto you had in uncovering the truth about Farns? In using the man’s magical device against him?”

He nodded slowly. Of course he remembered. In some ways, that had been when everything had started to go wrong. If not for the Farns job, he wouldn’t have gotten mixed up with Beth, Irving’s daughter. Lily wouldn’t have left him. They wouldn’t be in the Crags right now, unwilling players in yet another political game.

“You had something in your eyes back then,” Lily said. “A fire. If Caleb would have put a sword to that Zane Halloway’s throat, he would have regretted it. But that day on the ship? It was almost like you gave up.” She paused for a moment, then said, “Look, I get it. You’ve been through a lot these past few years. We both have. But now we’re mixed up in politics, this stuff you always used to avoid…and there’s no reason for you to be here. I mean, I’m glad you are, but no one’s paying you to track down Caleb Longstrain.”

Zane looked at her for a long moment. “Is there something you want to ask me?”

She looked him hard in the eyes. “Zane, are you trying to find your way to the warrior’s death?”

He pressed his lips together, fighting back the fury rising inside him. After a moment, he said, “If I seem like I’ve changed, perhaps I have. And, yes, perhaps my passion for my position has waned. But the reason I’m here, the only reason, is because you and I have the opportunity to prevent the deaths of many of our countrymen. Make no mistake, if Caleb shares what he knows with Tavel, more Opeleans will die. I’ve caused many deaths. Perhaps I can prevent some.”

From the way she looked at the ground rather than meeting his eyes, he could tell she didn’t believe him. “Fine. I’ll show you how I get in and out of the palace without being seen. Then I’ll leave you to your work.”

He nodded, the closest he could bring himself to a thank you at the moment. “When you get back to your chambers, make sure you are seen. You’ll want to make sure someone can attest to your whereabouts. Because, in about an hour, all hell is going to break loose in that palace.”

***

One thing Zane had to give people of the Crags: their hierarchical society made traveling unseen much easier. The tunnels of the underneath let Danum and his fellow ferox move freely about Sicar. And here in the palace, the separate servants’ hallways made sneaking about far easier than it should have been.

The servants’ passages ran parallel to the main hallways, and they were connected by unobtrusive doors every fifty feet. Which meant Zane was able to slip back and forth between the two sets of halls at any time. It was the middle of the night, so the noble hallways were empty. The servants’ halls were quiet too, but the occasional Cragsman or Cragswoman wandered through, probably fulfilling some late night demand from his or her master.

It bothered Zane that it was so easy to put into motion a series of events that could potentially supplant the monarch of this nation. Or maybe he was still a bit shaken from his conversation with Lily.

She’d accused him of, what, wanting to die? It was absurd. Perhaps he had simply seen too much to be excited by the types of jobs that used to thrill him. Maybe he’d come to the Crags to test himself against the best, both Caleb Longstrain and the famed Craggish. If he’d wanted to die, he knew of plenty of poisons that could quickly and painlessly do the job. She had it backwards. It wasn’t that he wanted to die; it was that he wanted to live, and to live with the same spark he’d once had. He just didn’t know how.

Lily had drawn him a fairly detailed map of the interior of the palace. According to what she’d shown him, he was now approaching Gullins’s chambers. Here was where things would get interesting. According to Nicholas, the ruby was prominently displayed on the mantle in the High Prince’s sitting room. There were two entrances to the sitting room, both of them guarded. And the guards stationed here were the top ranked members of their profession.

Zane paused. He needed to make a choice. After a moment, he decided to go through the nobles’ door. The guard at the servants’ door would be more expectant of possible nighttime arrivals, servants coming to check on the fire in the hearth and the like, and, therefore, would be more alert. Late night arrivals at the nobles’ door would be less common.

The key, Zane knew, was to get in and out quickly. He was confident he could defeat the two guards, but he would not be able to defeat the legions of reinforcements that would arrive if they raised the alarm. So, get in, kill the guards, grab the ruby, and be gone. His goal would be to do the whole operation in under a minute. If he could accomplish that, he could be out of the palace and back in the underneath in less than five minutes. Speed was his friend.

It was time to show Lily, to show himself, that he still had it. That he was still the best at what he did. That he still had the fire inside.

He took a deep breath, rounded the corner, and stepped through the nobles’ door. And he froze, his eyes wide.

There weren’t two guards. There were a dozen.

No, that wasn’t correct. They weren’t all guards. At least five of them were. But six of the others wore long, flowing green robes and looked a bit smaller than most of the Cragsmen he’d met. One wore spectacles.

The twelfth man was dressed in the finest clothes, purple fabric trimmed in gold, and he wore a thin crown. There was only one person that could be. And only one reason he and eleven others would be waiting here in the sitting room, all standing and facing the door, in the middle of the night.

Zane glanced at the mantle to confirm his suspicions. There was no ruby there. The ruby probably didn’t exist at all. He’d been set up.

He spun on his heels, ready to sprint out of the room. He probably wouldn’t make it far, but he had to try. He now knew for certain that Lily was wrong in her assessment of his motives. He wanted to live, and he wanted it very badly indeed. That wouldn’t happen if he stayed in this room.

At the end of the hallway, there was another man in a green cloak. He looked older than the others. He raised his hand, and a burst of wind hit Zane in the face like a brick wall, knocking him back into the room and off his feet. He landed flat on his back on the stone floor.

Abditus. The men in the green cloaks were abditus.

If only he’d brought Lily along. She might be able to combat their magics. On the other hand, she’d be in this mess, too. He’d made the right decision.

The guards and abditus stood motionless, watching him with blank faces. The man in purple, High Prince Gullins, rubbed his chin, looking impatient.

Zane wasn’t sure what they were all waiting for, but if they were going to give him another opportunity, he was going to take it. He rolled to his feet and drew his sword in one smooth motion. There was still only one abditus in that hallway. He was closer now, walking slowly forward. Zane might be able to reach him before—

The abditus raised his hand again, and another blast of air slammed into Zane, this time hitting him in the hand, knocking the sword from his grasp. Zane had owned that sword for thirteen years, but he wasn’t about to die for it. He left the sword where it lay and again began sprinting down the hallway. Maybe there was a recharge time on whatever thorn that abditus was using, and Zane could charge past him before he was able to use it again.

A moment later, that question was answered as another blast of wind hit him in the face. This was the strongest attack yet, and it lifted him off his feet and back into the sitting room. He landed on his back, and his head ricocheted off the floor.

He may have lost consciousness for a moment. It was difficult to tell. He lay at the Prince’s feet, and everyone in the room was still watching him. What were they waiting for? Clearly, the abditus weren’t going to let him leave. So what did they want?

He got to his feet, a bit more slowly this time.

When he’d stood up and was certain he wasn’t going to topple over again, he turned to Gullins. “High Prince, you certainly know how to make a guest feel welcome. If you wanted me to stay, all you had to do was—”

Suddenly Gullins was in motion. His hand snaked out, and he grabbed Zane by the throat. He lifted him into the air and slammed him onto the ground.

The ringing in Zane’s ears had increased exponentially, and the room seemed to be spinning. He clutched at the hand gripping his throat and cutting off his air supply, trying to get free of it, but made no progress. The High Prince of the Crags was strong, stronger than anyone Zane had ever faced.

Gullins was crouched down next to him. “You dare? An assassin comes into my home? An Opelean assassin, no less?”

Zane couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. He struggled, flailing wildly against the man above him. They weren’t his usual, strategic blows; he was a man fighting for breath, and his body was reacting with animalistic panic.

Gullins didn’t seem to notice he was being hit.

Zane’s lungs were on fire now. He looked around the room, his wide, watering eyes searching for anything or anyone that might help him. All he saw were the passive stares of guards and abditus. They didn’t look angry or excited. They looked bored. They were men doing a job.

Gullins, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying himself. “Zane Halloway. The famed ferox. Killer of the pirate Longstrain. I must admit, I’m disappointed. I could squeeze the life out of you right now.”

Zane might have answered that Gullins was doing a fine job of that already, but his only thought was of air.

“You won’t get off that easy,” Gullins said. He loosened his grip, and Zane gasped. He gulped at the sweet, precious air, frantically pulling it into his lungs.

Gullins stood up and turned to his guards. “Take him to a holding cell. In the morning, he’s to be pressed.”

CHAPTER SIX

The servants woke Lily to tell her the news; a ferox had been caught attempting to enter High Prince Gullins’s chambers. An Opelean ferox.

Lily’s heart nearly stopped when she heard.

She spent the next two hours trying to get in to see Prince Christopher. Finally, she was shown into a small sitting room.

She walked into the room and saw the prince sitting in his chair. He looked as tired as she felt. Lily was fairly certain she’d never before seen him slouch. As she approached, he looked up, and his eyes flashed with anger at the sight of her.

“Did you know he was here?” he asked.

She’d expected the question, of course, and she’d spent much of the last two hours considering the best way to answer it. To a certain extent, it felt selfish putting so much energy into protecting herself when Zane was sitting in a cell. On the other hand, she wouldn’t be able to help if she was in the cell next to him. For just the next couple minutes, she had to worry about protecting herself. Then she could protect Zane.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Damn it. It’s him, isn’t it?”

When she opened her eyes, she saw a surprised look on Prince Christopher’s face. He’d probably expected denial.

“Who do you mean?” he asked.

“You know very well who I mean,” Lily said. She’d never snapped at a member of the royal family, but she was trying to convey shock and surprise. And, truth be told, it felt pretty good. She quickly added, “Sorry. So sorry, my Prince. What I meant to say is…they told me an Opelean ferox was caught trying to kill the High Prince Gullins. Was it Zane Halloway?”

The prince was giving her a strange look. He clearly wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation. After a moment, he nodded.

“Damn it,” she said again, this time nearly shouting. “I suspected. More than suspected, maybe. Who else would be so stupid? But I’d hoped—”

“So you didn’t know he was in the Crags?”

Lily rubbed her eyes. “No. But…the thing is, Ferox Halloway is my former mentor, and he has a…well, he’s rather obsessed with me.”

Prince Christopher grimaced. “Yes. Von Ridden told me as much. He said Halloway is constantly asking the ferox stationed in Langton for updates on your progress.”

“I didn’t know that,” Lily said, honestly.

Prince Christopher held up a hand, waving off her response. “That aside, we need to figure out who hired him to assassinate the High Prince.”

Lily frowned. “He won’t talk. I know him well, and he’ll never reveal who hired him. It’s against his code.”

The Prince smiled thinly. “He already has.”

Lily was momentarily unable to think of any response to that. She’d expected Zane to clam up, to face hours, maybe days, of torture before he revealed anything. Instead, he’d confessed to a crime he wasn’t even trying to commit. “Who hired him?”

“He told the High Prince, but the Craggish aren’t willing to share that information.”

“Was it an Opelean?”

He shrugged. “It hardly matters. If Halloway named an Opelean, our negotiations are over. If he named a Taveller, we’ll be suspected of framing Tavel for the crime in order to better position ourselves in the negotiations. Either way, we are in serious trouble.” He fell into a brooding silence.

Lily badly wanted to ask what was going to happen to Zane and what they could do to help him, but she knew Prince Christopher well enough to know she’d better not speak until he’d finished thinking.

After a few moments, he said, “Do you have any idea how frustrating this is? The first war since the elves, the thing I’ve been training for my whole life, and does my brother put me in charge of the Army? No. He sends me on a thankless diplomatic mission. One that was almost certain to fail. And you know what? I was actually making progress! There was a chance this would all work out. That I’d go home having succeeded, having delivered the troops that would help us win the war. But then…this.” He sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, Lily. I shouldn’t speak ill of the King. I’m just tired.”

Lily decided it was time to make her move. “My Prince, have you considered asking for Ferox Halloway? He is a citizen of Opel, after all. He should be tried and punished under our laws.”

He looked at her strangely, then let out a high-pitched laugh. “Oh, Lily, you beautiful, naive darling, we are far beyond that. Zane’s to be executed. Tomorrow. Eleven in the morning.”

Lily felt her blood run cold. “He’s to be hanged?”

Prince Christopher shook his head. “I imagine this will be difficult, but you need to consider the greater good. The alternative…is much worse. We have to play this extremely carefully, or else Opel could find itself fighting a two-front war.”

“Tell me,” she said.

The Prince nodded. “There’s a form of execution here called pressing. Ever heard of it?”

“No.”

He put a hand on her arm. “Remember, we are guests here, and their ways are not our ways. He attempted to kill their High Prince, and he must pay their price.”

She fought the urge to brush his hand away from her arm. “Tell me.”

“All right. He’ll be forced to lie on his back in a pit. The people of Sicar will file past, each dropping a stone on him. None larger than a man’s fist. Over time, when enough people pass—”

“Stop,” she said, looking away. “I understand.”

“There’s more.” The Prince cleared his throat. “Look, you know we have to do anything we can to distance ourselves from this. To show our absolute condemnation of Halloway’s crime.”

Lily felt the blood drain from her face. “No.”

“We have no choice. We have to participate. All of us.” He paused for a moment. “I’ve asked High Prince Gullins if we could have the honor of going first, and he agreed. I told him we want to show Halloway that he is no longer one of us before the rocks cover him. In truth…”

“You don’t want to drop the stone that crushes him.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth.

“Nor do you, I’d imagine.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “There are still a few hours until morning. See if you can get some sleep.”

She nodded and thanked him, though she knew there was no chance of her sleeping tonight, maybe not any night for a while. In eight short hours, she’d be participating the execution of Zane Halloway.

***

She had to tap Charles Danum on the shoulder to wake him. Some ferox he was. A better ferox, Zane Halloway, for example, would have been awake the moment his door opened and would have had a sword in his hand three seconds later.

To his credit, Danum did seem to be fully alert when his eyes opened. There wasn’t a hint of confusion at seeing an uninvited guest standing over him in middle of the night.

“What is it?” he asked in a voice that was all business.

She replied in kind. “It’s Zane. They’ve captured him. He’ll be executed in the morning.”

The old ferox rubbed at his eyes for a moment, then sat up. He reached for the robe hanging on a hook next to the bed and slipped it on.

When he had the robe securely fastened, he said, “I’m truly sorry. I take it you weren’t implicated?”

Lily blinked hard. “No, not that it matters.”

He looked up at her. “And the underneath? Nicholas? We ferox? How much does the High Prince know?”

Lily resisted the urge to slap the man. Zane had said Danum had changed since his days as a bureaucrat in the Ferox Society, but Lily was beginning to wonder whether that was accurate.

She decided against telling him that Zane had identified the man who’d hired him.

“You’re asking the wrong questions,” she said. “He’s to be crushed to death in seven hours. We can sort out the political ramifications later.”

Danum’s eyes widened. “Lily, if you didn’t come here to warn me, why did you come?”

“You don’t know? I came to ask for your help in saving him.”

A sad smile grew across his face. “And how exactly are we to do that?”

Lily’s face felt hot. Why was everyone so condescending tonight? Why did everyone seem to think her an idiot who needed to be handled gently? She leaned over him and snarled, “You broke three ferox out of prison in Tavel, did you not? I would think you would be the one telling me how we do this.”

Danum laughed—actually laughed!—and said, “You really think this is possible, don’t you? You think we can pull together a plan and break him out of jail. You’re insane.”

“You did it once. You can do it—”

“That took three months of planning. Even then, I’m lucky we all got out alive. What you’re talking about? Seven hours? Impossible.”

“You’re a coward,” she said. She barely recognized the sound of her own voice. There was something animalistic about it. “Do you know what I risked sneaking out of the palace? If they find me gone on tonight of all nights, they will assume I’m Zane’s accomplice.”

Danum’s eyes were ice as he looked up at her. “I’m sorry. You wasted your time.”

“I’m not asking you to succeed. I’m asking you to try.”

“Lily, you have my answer. It’s suicide. Even to try.”

Logically, Lily knew him to be right. But there had to be another way. There had to be something. “What about Nicholas? Let’s talk to him. He’s from a wealthy family, right? I know he’s disgraced, but he still knows people.”

Danum shook his head. “I haven’t seen Nicholas since he left with Zane yesterday morning.”

“There has to be something we can do.”

“There isn’t.” The old ferox’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, Lily, but you have to accept it. There are some things even ferox and abditus can’t change. For all practical purposes, Zane is already dead. At this point, the execution is just a technicality.”

***

Lily found Calond sitting among a group of abditus in a study near Gullins’s chambers. His eyes went wide when he saw her.

“Can we talk?” she asked him.

His eyes were troubled. “Lily, now is not a good time. What happened tonight—”

“Please,” Lily said. To her surprise, her voice cracked with emotion. “It’s important.”

He paused for a moment, then nodded.

He led her to a small room down the hall. “I don’t have long.”

“I understand. I’m so sorry about what happened tonight.”

Calond opened his mouth, as if he wanted to speak but wasn’t sure how. Finally, he said, “This man who attempted to take the High Prince’s life. They say you knew him.”

Lily squeezed her eyes shut, then nodded. “Yes. I knew him. He was my mentor.”

“I see.” Calond’s voice was a bit colder now.

Lily looked at him, her eyes pleading. “Listen, I once studied to be a ferox. I was placed in the ferox academy after taking my Tens exam. Students are assigned to academies—”

“I know how it works.”

“Then you know I had no choice. Not in my assignment and certainly not in who my mentor would be. I studied with him for two years. When I learned who he really was, what kind of man he was and what he was capable of, I rescinded my position. I couldn’t study under him. Thankfully, I found a mentor to recommend me to the Abditus Academy. If he hadn’t been a man of influence, I don’t know what would have become of me. Either way, I had to leave the Ferox Society. I simply couldn’t stomach studying with Zane Halloway any longer.”

Calond was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “In the Crags, we have no Ferox Society. We believe if something is stolen and a man wants it returned, he should retrieve it himself. If a woman wants people dead, she should kill them with her own hands. A man who chooses to carry out these deeds on behalf of others, who accepts that as his vocation, is a dark thing indeed.”

Lily said nothing in response. She couldn’t. It was a dark thing. Zane freely admitted as much.

“Calond, I know it’s not a good time, but I need to ask a favor.”

His eyes narrowed. “I must say, I would very much like to know what favor you would dare to ask on this night.”

Tears welled up in Lily’s eyes. She didn’t force them. With everything that was going on, she didn’t need to. But she didn’t stop them, either. Calond had responded to her earlier show of emotion—the crack in her voice—with great discomfort. People in the Crags did not show emotion in public. Perhaps she could use that to her advantage.

“When I left Ferox Halloway’s tutelage, I was a broken woman. The things he’d made me do changed me. It wasn’t until I joined the Abditus Society and built my first glide that I felt whole again. I thought I was over my time with Halloway, but tonight it’s all coming back to me. I was wondering if…” she choked back a sob. “I was wondering if you might have somewhere I could work. Somewhere with tools and materials.”

Calond drew a deep breath. “Lily, I’m sorry. I don’t think that is possible tonight.”

She touched his arm, and Calond tensed in obvious discomfort. A crying woman touching him. A true nightmare for a Cragsman.

“Please.” She had only one more gambit, one more possible play. “Listen, you don’t have glides in the Crags, right? Send someone with me. I need to work with my hands, but I’m happy to instruct as I work. I’ll build a glide, and in doing so I’ll teach one of your abditus to do the same.”

He licked his lips, his demeanor different now. “You’d teach a Crags abditus to build a glide. Is that legal?”

She looked up at him, tears rolling down her face. “Calond, give me the workspace and an abditus. Let me worry about Opelean law.”

After a long moment, he said, “I’ll get Marcus. Follow me.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Zane was sitting in his cell on the bare wooden bench that served as a bed when he heard footsteps approaching.

A deep voice said, “This is it.”

He heard the rattle of keys, and a thin wooden panel in the door slid aside.

Another voice spoke. This one familiar. “You’re not leaving?”

“Orders from the top,” the guard said. “You aren’t to be left alone with the prisoner.”

Zane leaped to his feet and ran to the door. The small opening was at eye level. He looked out and saw Lily. A large, burly guard stood next to her.

No. What was she doing here? Didn’t she know all she could do was endanger herself? She should be staying as far away from him as possible, denying she even knew him. She’d always been impulsive. He’d hoped she’d outgrown that, but apparently she hadn’t. Now it was going to get her killed.

Lily’s big, brown eyes were full of pain. Zane wished he could do something to help, but it was far too late. If he’d really wanted to ease her pain, he would have refused to initiate her into the world of the ferox. A world that was nothing but pain.

“Lily,” he said.

She stopped him with a raised hand. “Don’t bother. I don’t want to hear explanations. I don’t care what put you here. If we’re being honest with each other, we have to admit this is just the inevitable conclusion to a path you’ve been on for years.”

Her head moved ever-so-slightly in the direction of the guard. She needn’t have made the gesture. He understood.

Zane realized maybe there was something he could do for her. Maybe he could finally be the mentor she deserved. Maybe some good could come of her visit down here. He’d do his best to protect her one more time.

He forced a smile onto his face. “So, that’s how it is. I taught you everything you know, and this is how you repay me. You come here to kick me while I lay on the ground?”

Her eyes flashed with surprise, but she quickly recovered. “That’s not why I’m here. It’s just an added benefit.”

“Then why are you?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you for a long time. I should have come to you, I suppose. But the things you did to me, the people you forced me to kill, I couldn’t stand to look you in the face.”

“You always were a coward,” Zane said. “You act tough, but inside you’re a broken little girl.”

He glanced at the guard, who was clearly enjoying the show.

Lily ignored Zane’s comment. “Perhaps I should have felt more confident after I’d learned the skills of an abditus. But I remembered that you had trained as an abditus, too, before abandoning it for a darker path. Perhaps you still remembered how to use magical devices as well as I did. Perhaps you remembered how to use complicated thorns. Maybe you even remembered how to use glides.”

She stopped, as if waiting for a response. Zane wasn’t sure exactly where she was going with this, but he understood the question.

“Aye. You were wise not to make a move against me. I studied under a master thornswoman, and I’ll never forget her lessons. I was never a master of glides, but I could use one in a pinch. I would have taken your magical devices and shoved them down your throat.” That was about as far as he could push that particular thread without arousing too much suspicion from the guard. “But I’m safely in a cell now. I can’t hurt you. So be a brave little girl and tell me what you want to say.”

“What I want to say,” she said, “is that I’ll never become the thing you tried to turn me into. You remember that job when you killed that old abditus?”

She could only mean the Irving Farns job. “I do,” he said.

“When you came back from that job, you gave me the worst beating of my life.”

He struggled to keep his face expressionless. He hadn’t beaten her, but he had given her something. A thorn.

“The wounds healed,” she continued, “but I still carry what happened that day with me. I carry it with me even now. Tomorrow, when you’re lying in that pit and the people of Sicar are gathered to take your life, I will be the first one in line. I’m going to give you back what you gave me. Threefold. Understand?”

He waited a long moment before replying. He wanted to make sure his voice wouldn’t shake. Not because what she was saying hurt him. Quite the opposite. He’d never been more proud of anyone than he was of her in that moment.

Her plan was insane, and it absolutely wouldn’t work. But it was everything he’d ever taught her. She might never be a ferox in name, but she would always be one in spirit.

Zane wished he could tell her that now.

“I understand,” he said. “I understand that you took all the training I gave you and used it to betray me.”

She smiled. “Good. Hold onto that thought. Hold on to it when you’re in that hole and the stones are piling on top of you. Hold it for as long as you possibly can.”

“Aye, Lily Rhodes,” he said. “I’ll do just that.”

Lily looked at the guard and said, “I’m finished.”

She turned and walked away without waiting for the guard or saying goodbye to her old mentor.

Zane listened as her footsteps echoed down the hall and faded into the distance.

***

Six guards came to Zane’s cell mid-morning. They made him remove his clothing and put on a coarse brown wool tunic. It was similar to what the people in the underneath wore, Zane realized. He supposed it was just another part of the tradition of the pressing. Then they shackled his wrists and ankles.

They brought him out of his cell and loaded him onto a cart pulled by a horse. Four of the guards got in the back with him, and two drove. They started along the windy road down the mountain.

Zane felt like his stomach was filled with ice water. Lily’s crazy, half-formed plan aside, he knew he was going to die today. As frightening as it was, he forced himself to look for something, anything, positive about the situation, simply to keep from going insane, from attacking the guards or screaming and crying for mercy.

First, as terrible as the pressing sounded, it would be over fairly quickly. Yes, it would be an unpleasant death. But what death was pleasant? It wasn’t like he would be trapped alive in the ground until he died of thirst. He was going to be crushed with rock. Which, granted, was not ideal, but he wouldn’t be suffering for days. The weight of the rocks would crush his rib cage and he would die. Or would he suffocate first? He pushed the question aside. Better to think of more positive things.

As they rolled along the switchbacks down the mountain, they passed many Cragspeople, most of them also making their way down the mountain. He’d seen a few public executions in his day, and the crowds at each of them had been filled with a disturbing atmosphere of glee. The people relished seeing the bad man punished. Maybe it proved to them that there was justice in this world, or maybe it satisfied something else, something primal within them. A detached part of Zane noticed that the mood of the people heading down the mountain was different. They were somber. Perhaps having to participate in the execution quieted that animal instinct.

It took a long time to reach their destination, and the further down the mountain they went, the worse the conditions of the road became. Before too long, the cart was bouncing and jostling to the point where Zane wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole thing had toppled over onto its side. He briefly entertained a fantasy of escaping after the cart capsized, but he quickly pushed the notion aside. The Crags guards were a grim lot. If the wagon were hanging off the edge of a cliff, their first thought would probably be to hold a sword to his neck before climbing to safety.

The cart rolled to a stop near the bottom of the mountain, and the guards roughly pushed him across the road toward an open field.

Throughout the field, Zane saw dozens of X-shaped patterns of stones. Grave markers, Zane realized. Not the type he was used to seeing in Opel, but the spacing made them undeniable. As did the piles of stones in front of each one.

This was where all the pressings took place. Each one of the piles of stones indicated a place where someone had been executed, Zane realized.

They walked him to an open pit. No. An open grave. One of the guards punched him hard in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs. While he was still bent over, gasping for air, the guards shoved him into the hole. By the time he thought of resisting, it was already too late. Two of the guards hopped in after him and forced him down onto his back. They secured the shackles on his wrists and ankles to metal eyelets sticking out of the dirt below him.

Their job complete, the two guards climbed out of the grave, leaving Zane alone with nothing but the open sky above him.

He waited what seemed like hours at the bottom of that pit. He heard the sounds of a gathering crowd. He felt the earth around him rumble with footsteps as more and more people arrived. From the chatter up there, it seemed like thousands were waiting to see him die. Still, no one peeked into the grave. Not yet. They would have their chances soon enough. His view of the blue sky was unobstructed.

Finally, the crowd noise tapered off, and Zane knew it was beginning.

A low voice filled the air. “Ferox Zane Halloway of the city of Barnes in the nation of Opel, for the crime of attempted regicide against the great and holy High Prince Gullins Sanporia, you are sentenced to death by pressing. Your grave will be marked only by a pile of stones. Your name will be struck from all records. If God remembers you on the last day, it will be in spite of the best efforts of the people of the Crags. You will now be pressed into the dust from whence we all came. May you be forgotten.” There was a long pause, during which Zane could hear only the wind howling above and the thumping of his own heart. Then the deep voice said, “It begins.”

Then Zane saw the first face he’d seen since the guards had climbed out of his grave. Prince Christopher.

The Prince looked down at him and said, “You have shamed your nation. As a prince of Opel, I hereby renounce your citizenship.”

Christopher raised his hand, and Zane saw a gray stone clutched in the Prince’s fist. He opened his hand and the stone fell, landing on Zane’s stomach.

It didn’t hurt badly, but, with it, Zane felt the anticipation of the hundreds of stones about to be dropped onto him. Perhaps at some point he would long for them to hurt, simply so he could tell he was still alive.

Another face appeared, one of the Prince’s advisors this time, a man named Peter, and another stone fell. The procession continued. The next ten were all Opeleans. Some of them Zane knew. Some of them he didn’t. Sometimes they spoke. Sometimes they did not. Either way, the stones fell, and within a few minutes, Zane had ten more stones on top of him.

And then, Lily leaned over the edge of the grave. Her eyes were large and sad.

“You were my mentor.” She spoke the words loudly and with confidence. “I hope my stone is the one that does the most damage.”

She dropped her stone, and it fell directly onto his chained right hand.

Lily gave him the smallest of smiles, and disappeared.

Frantically, before the next executioner appeared, he grabbed Lily’s rock, feeling around it. Yes, there was something attached to it with some sort of adhesive, just as he’d hoped there would be.

No, he realized. It wasn’t one thing. It was three.

He remembered her words to him in the jail cell. I’ll pay you back threefold.

He’d given her a thorn called the Nettle when he’d returned from killing Irving Farns. He’d meant it as a show of trust. And now she was paying him back. She was giving him the tools he needed to survive this, and she was trusting him to know how to use them.

He quickly identified the Nettle by feel and set it aside. That one was for later. He removed the second and third. Both were small objects, shaped like rings. He could tell by feeling them that one was a glide and one was a thorn, but without being able to see them, he wasn’t sure of much more than that.

Then he felt something else attached to the stone. A lock pick.

Thank God.

As the next few executioners, all Opeleans, dropped their stones, he worked to free his right hand. It was not easy, but eventually he managed it. He quickly unlocked his left hand as well. When the next person dropped their stone and disappeared from view, he risked a look at the glide and the thorn.

God bless Lily. They were both simple enough devices to use. He’d been a little worried. Even though he’d told Lily he remembered how to use glides, it had been a very long time.

He slipped the glide on his finger and activated it.

And, suddenly, the rocks around him levitated. Not a lot. Just enough. Just a few inches. And the rocks people dropped didn’t hit him. They all stopped a few inches above him. Zane was terrified someone would notice, but no one did.

It went on for an hour. Once the twenty or so Opeleans in the diplomatic party dropped their stones, the Cragsmen and Cragswomen began. These people had less to say, but many spit on him. Zane didn’t care. Lily’s wonderful glide stopped the spit before it hit him, same as the stones.

Then Gullins came. And the abditus who’d sent the wind blast that had stopped his escape. And, strangely, Nicholas, Jacob’s shimmer hanging from the chain around his neck.

Just before the stones covered him and completely blocked out the light, someone else familiar appeared above his grave. He couldn’t see well enough to be sure, but he was almost certain the last person he saw drop a stone was Caleb Longstrain. Somehow the man’s words carried down to him: “For my father.”

The hardest part was the waiting after the stones stopped falling. Lily wanted him to use the ring-shaped thorn to escape. That much was clear. He didn’t know what it would do, but he knew it was his only chance at getting out of here. So he had to be patient and wait until the last of the executioners was gone.

He waited for what must have been hours. Then he waited that long again. And then a third time. He was sure it was night. It had to be.

Finally, when he couldn’t wait anymore, when he was certain he would go insane if he had to stay under the hovering rocks for another moment, Zane activated the thorn.

CHAPTER EIGHT

After Lily dropped her stone, she joined Prince Christopher and the other Opeleans. They watched in silence as the people of the Crags filed past, and her friend and mentor was slowly buried alive.

Lily did her best to appear somber, but inside she was a tangle of emotions. She hoped Zane had understood her cryptic message. She hoped he kept his head enough to work the glide. More importantly, she hoped he’d wait long enough to use the thorn.

But what then? If Zane managed to live through this, his escape wouldn’t exactly be subtle. And Marcus would quickly discover she’d stolen a thorn right off his finger while they were working together the previous night. Best case scenario, Lily would be put to death. Worst case…she didn’t want to think about it. Still, what was she supposed to do? Let her friend die? He would have done the same for her, no matter the cost.

“What the hell is this?” Prince Christopher whispered. His face was suddenly pale. A parade of four carriages pulled to a stop in front of the pressing site. Two men and two women climbed out of the first carriage. Lily didn’t recognize them, but they certainly weren’t Cragsmen and Cragswomen. Their style of dress was closer to what she usually saw in Opel.

The Prince turned to the diplomatic party. He spoke softly but sternly. “Say nothing. Take no action. Remember we are already on the razor’s edge here. We’ll deal with this later.”

Lily wasn’t sure what this was, but the other Opeleans did not look happy.

Three people stepped out of the second carriage. Then four from the third. When the last person stepped out of the fourth carriage, Lily gritted her teeth. It was Caleb.

“They’ve been keeping us separate,” Prince Christopher said, his voice thick with anger. “That’s why they’ve restricted us to the eastern wing. That’s why Gullins keeps leaving our negotiations. To go to theirs.”

Suddenly Lily got it. This was a diplomatic party from Tavel. High Prince Gullins was negotiating with Tavel at the same time he was negotiating with Opel. And Caleb was part of the Tavel diplomatic party. He wasn’t working in secret; he was openly assisting Tavel in it’s negotiations.

But why? Wouldn’t he have been able to do more damage on the battlefield? What was he trying to accomplish here?

Caleb was the first to walk to the grave and drop his stone. The Tavellers followed.

She noticed Caleb was pointedly not looking in her direction.

When the last stone had been dropped, High Prince Gullins approached the Opeleans.

“Let’s return to the palace,” he said. “We have much to discuss.”

“Indeed we do,” Prince Christopher said.

***

It was evening, and they were sitting in a large room in the Sicar palace. Not the room where all their previous negotiations had taken place. This room was much bigger. High Prince Gullins sat at the head of the long table. The Opeleans sat on one side, and the Tavellers, including Caleb, sat on the other. Various Cragsmen and Cragswomen stood along the walls around the room. Lily was once again seated near the foot of the table, across from a dour, ancient-looking man she assumed was the Taveller abditus.

High Prince Gullins cleared his throat. “It was inevitable you were going to find out about each other at some point. Maybe it’s better this way. Now you can both state your cases openly.” He paused, but neither side said anything. Lily had the feeling the rules of this game had drastically changed, and both sides were still trying to figure out a strategy.

“I’m going to be blunt,” the High Prince continued. “We have all been at this negotiation for weeks, and, before the assassination attempt, I was strongly leaning towards remaining neutral in this war. Neither of you presented a compelling enough case to send my Army into battle on foreign soil. But now…”

A man near the head of the table on the Tavel side said, “I’m very glad to hear that this terrible event has moved you, High Prince. I think your course is clear. An Opelean attempted to take your life. Taking up arms against them now would be the logical move in defending your nation’s honor.”

“Now just a minute,” Prince Christopher said, but Gullins held up a hand, silencing him.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Gullins said. “The man was an assassin. We need to find out who hired him.”

The Tavel leader spoke again. “May I ask, High Prince, why the assassin was not physically persuaded to reveal that information?”

Gullins sighed. “I ran a crew at one of the spice farms years ago. I did my fair share of physical persuasion, as you call it. I eventually came to the conclusion that a man being tortured will tell you anything to make it stop. He’ll tell you what he thinks you want to hear, but it won’t necessarily be the truth. Besides, the assassin told us who hired him.”

A murmur of surprise ran down the length of the table on the Tavel side. That was good, Lily thought. The High Prince hadn’t told them about Zane’s confession, and he had told the Opeleans. That had to be a positive sign.

“High Prince, who did he name?” the Tavel leader asked.

Gullins nodded toward the Tavel side of the table. “He named Caleb Longstrain.”

Caleb leaped out of his seat and slammed his palms against the table. “That’s outrageous! You know about our past. You know he killed my father, and that I sought asylum in Tavel. He has every reason to frame me. I have no reason to work with him. It’s absurd.”

Gullins shot him a glare that could have melted glass. “Sit or I will have you dragged out. The assassin’s cell is still warm, if you insist upon it.”

The color drained from Caleb’s face, and he sank down into his seat.

Gullins said, “The problem here is determining what to believe. Did the assassin really betray his client so quickly? Or, were the Opeleans trying to frame Caleb Longstrain because of his betrayal? Still another possibility is that the Tavellers did hire the assassin and ask him to name Longstrain if captured to make it look like the Opeleans were trying to manipulate events. There are layers upon layers of possibilities.” He looked slowly up and down the table. “No one is leaving the Crags until this is resolved. However long it takes.”

A long heavy silence fell over the room.

Prince Christopher said, “High Prince, I understand your position, but our nations are at war. We can’t stay here indefinitely.”

Gullins scowled. “Clearly you don’t understand my position. None of you are leaving until the investigation is completed to my satisfaction. You are no longer my guests. You are my prisoners.”

The door to the room burst open and a tall woman walked briskly toward Gullins.

“High Prince, we must speak.”

He gave her an annoyed glance. “Can it wait?”

“No,” the woman said.

Gullins looked surprised. He rose and stared down the length of the table. “We aren’t finished. Stay where you are until I return.”

The High Prince followed the woman out of the room. As the door shut, Lily caught a glimpse of Marcus, the abditus who she’d worked beside the previous night, and her heart sank.

The room waited in silence for five agonizing minutes. Lily wanted to give Prince Christopher a warning of what was about to happen, but he was on the other end of the table. Besides, what would she say? There was always a chance she was wrong, that they hadn’t found her out. She would have to wait and trust that she’d be able to find her way out of whatever situation came next.

The door opened and the tall Cragswoman walked back in. “The High Prince would like to see Prince Christopher and the abditus Lily Rhodes immediately, please.”

The Prince’s eyes widened in confusion, but he stood and motioned for Lily to do the same.

They followed the Cragswoman out onto a balcony off the main hallway. It was large, the kind of place where a crowd might gather to watch an abditus light show in a more civilized nation.

Gullins stood at the railing, looking out over the view of the city below. He was flanked by five guards.

The tall woman announced them, then she departed. Prince Christopher moved to Gullins’ side. Lily stayed back a little; she wasn’t going to risk getting close to the High Prince for fear he might toss her over the edge.

Without taking his eyes off the city, Gullins said, “Longstrain tells me you’re not even a real abditus. He says you’re an apprentice.”

Lily took a step forward. “Yes. That’s true.”

“Then why the hell did they send you?”

There was no reason to lie. Not now. Not about this. “We are at war and all abditus are needed on the battlefields. We couldn’t spare one for this.”

Prince Christopher’s face went pale. “High Prince, let me explain.”

Gullins’ hand shot out, grabbing Prince Christopher by the throat. “Yes. Please do. Please explain how the man we buried earlier today escaped. Explain why stones are scattered around the burial site as if a great force beneath the ground blew them skyward. Explain why my abditus is missing a thorn, a thorn that could have sent a ton of rock into the sky if it were in the possession of someone at the bottom of that pile. Explain why your abditus, sorry, abditus apprentice, came to my head abditus last night in tears and begged for a place to work, and why the man who she worked with is the same man who’s missing a thorn. Explain how anyone but a master ferox could steal the ring off a man’s finger without him noticing.”

“High Prince,” Lily said.

He whirled around, his hand still clutching Prince Christopher’s throat, pulling the Opelean prince with him. “You’ve forfeited your life, Miss Rhodes, and the lives of everyone in your diplomatic party. But that’s not the end, because after I’ve crushed you under two tons of stone, I’m going to take my Army and crush your nation. How does that sound?”

“Not very pleasant at all,” a voice behind Gullins said. “Being crushed is an entirely disagreeable way to be killed. I speak from experience.”

Lily’s heart leaped, both in joy and terror.

Gullins released his grip on Prince Christopher and spun toward the voice. A slow smile crept across his face. “Ferox Halloway, whatever are you doing here?”

Zane met the smile with one of his own. “I’m here to finish what I started. I’m here to kill you.”

CHAPTER NINE

Zane found Nicholas on the ledge where they’d first discussed the job of stealing the ruby. The ferox was still covered in dirt and dust from his recent un-burial, and he was still wearing the brown tunic they’d given him for his execution. There had been no time to clean up. He needed to act fast if there was any chance of saving Lily and the other Opeleans.

Nicholas gasped when he saw him. His hand went to the knife at his belt. “H-how?” he asked weakly.

Zane held up a hand. “I’m not here to fight you, and there’s no time for the how.”

Nicholas shook his head, a dazed look in his eyes. “I saw you pressed. No one survives the pressing.”

“My presence attests to the inaccuracy of that statement.” Zane looked at the Cragsman sharply. “I don’t have time for discussion. Just tell me if I’m correct. There is no ruby. You warned Gullins an assassin was coming for him in order to win his favor in the hopes he’d grant you a duel.”

Nicholas nodded slowly. “It worked, as I’d expected. To thank me for giving him the information, he asked if there was anything he could do for me. I requested a duel. This was in front of several of his most important advisors, so he had no choice but to accept. The duel takes place next week.”

Zane frowned. “I’m very happy this worked out so well for you.”

Nicholas dropped his eyes from Zane’s gaze. “I am sorry. Betraying you was an unfortunate but necessary means to an end.”

Zane decided to ignore that comment. He wasn’t here for revenge or to convince Nicholas of the heinousness of his crime. As much as Zane hated it, he needed this man’s help.

“What if I told you there was a way to take the crown without dueling Gullins?” Zane asked.

Nicholas smiled weakly. “I’d say I’m unlikely to trust a man who has every reason to want me dead.”

Zane looked him square in the eye. “You’re right. But I don’t want you dead. I want you to be High Prince.”

“May I ask why?”

Zane smiled. “Because, in spite of everything, I think you’d be good at it. And because it would benefit me and mine to have someone on the Crags throne who’s in my debt.”

Nicholas licked his lips. The Cragsman was clearly skeptical, but also intrigued. Good. That was exactly where Zane wanted him.

“Tell me your plan,” Nicholas said.

“I will. But first there are some conditions. Starting with that.” He pointed to the shimmer hanging around Nicholas’s neck. “If you agree to my plan, I take that with me. I won’t take part in crowning a High Prince who has one of those.”

Twenty minutes later, Zane left the ledge and started down the steps. He dropped Nicholas’s shimmer and crushed it under his heel.

“I hate magic,” he muttered to himself. Then he headed toward the palace.

***

Once again, Zane noted how easy it was to move around the palace. He quickly tried to erase the thought. He knew what had happened the last time that notion had come to mind. Two hours had passed since his conversation with Nicholas. He’d given the man enough time.

The halls were much more crowded than they’d been the night before, but he moved through the palace with a confident stride. Even dirty and dressed in his brown tunic, no one stopped him. Everyone seemed too busy with their own work to give him a second look.

The servant Nicholas had told him about was waiting near the kitchen. His eyes lit up with fear and joy at the sight of Zane.

“It’s true what old Nicholas said?” the young man asked. “You survived the pressing?”

Zane didn’t feel this inane question warranted a response, so he asked, “You know where Gullins is?”

The servant nodded. “I don’t know how they do things in your circles, but here in the servant’s passage we take payment in advance.”

Zane raised his eyebrows. “A wise practice, indeed.” He handed the young man two thrones.

The servant squinted at it. “Opelean currency is all you have?”

“Nicholas will change it for you.”

The man thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “Come with me.”

He led Zane to a doorway and stopped. “The High Prince is through there. How you’ll get out there without him seeing you—”

“It’s fine,” Zane said. “Go perform your next task.”

After the servant had gone, Zane risked a glance through the window in the door. Gullins and a tall Cragswoman stood talking on a balcony. They were flanked by guards. The servant was right. He wasn’t getting through this door without being spotted.

He slipped out a window and found a nice ledge. He couldn’t see the balcony, but he could hear the people on it. They were talking about what to do with the abditus apprentice. Lily. Before long, Gullins sent the woman to fetch Lily and Prince Christopher.

Zane listened as Lily arrived and Gullins threatened her. He heard the Opelean Prince cry out in pain and surprise. Gullins threatened Lily a bit more, and Zane decided he’d heard enough. Now was the time. He crept around the corner and climbed over the railing onto the balcony.

“But that’s not the end,” Gullins was saying, “because after I’ve crushed you under two tons of stone, I’m going to take my Army and crush your nation. How does that sound?”

This was it, Zane knew. Everything depended on this moment. His life. Lily’s life. Perhaps the lives of thousands of Opeleans.

“Not very pleasant at all,” Zane said. “Being crushed is an entirely disagreeable way to be killed. I speak from experience.”

Gullins let go of Prince Christopher and the Prince fell to his knees. The High Prince of the Crags turned and looked at Zane with a smile that did nothing to hide the fury in his eyes. “Ferox Halloway, whatever are you doing here?”

Zane felt a strange wave of giddiness pass through him, and he smiled. Improbably, he’s survived his own execution, and he was back doing what he did best: surprising people. “I’m here to finish what I started. I’m here to kill you.”

As expected, the six guards moved into formation, standing in a semi-circle around Zane, protecting their High Prince. And, as Zane had hoped, Gullins held up a hand. “Wait. He wants to kill me? Let him take his shot.”

The guards glanced from one to another, suddenly standing a bit straighter, their eyes a bit brighter. They were proud of their High Prince, Zane realized. This was how they felt a High Prince of the Crags should act. They moved aside.

Gullins set his feet wide and glared at Zane. “Well, Ferox? I’m waiting.”

Zane was already in motion. He had no sword. No knives. They’d stripped him of all those before burying him alive. But a ferox shouldn’t need a weapon. A ferox was a weapon. Wasn’t that what he’d always told Lily?

Gullins was a big, powerful man, and he likely had faith in that strength, which was something Zane could exploit.

Zane threw a punch into the center of the big man’s body, connecting just under the rib cage. The blow would have felled most men, but Gullins only let out a small groan. That was all right. That blow hadn’t been meant to disable him; it was a distraction.

Gullins recovered quickly, but Zane was throwing his next punch. He drove his fist into the High Prince’s throat with all his strength. The Cragsman gasped, clutching at his neck.

That wouldn’t stop him either, Zane knew. Not for long. He had to make the next few moments count. He went to work on the High Prince’s face, delivering punch after punishing punch, beating him about the nose and the eyes, putting everything he had into destroying this man’s face. It couldn’t have been more than five seconds, but he managed to land eight solid hits. Somewhere in there Zane heard the crack of Gullins’ nose as it broke, and the ferox’s knuckles were now bloody.

The High Prince wasn’t done yet. He planted his feet and threw a punch that hit Zane in the stomach. The air rushed out of Zane, and he felt his feet leave the ground from the power of the blow. He’d never been hit that hard; not even by Henry Longstrain. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet. A fist slammed into him again, this time hitting him in the eye.

Zane staggered backward. Enough. He had to end this before the High Prince killed him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Nettle. The thorn he’d used to kill Irving Farns two years ago. The one he’d given Lily as a sign of trust that she wouldn’t betray him. She’d dropped it in his grave that morning, along with the glide and the Craggish thorn.

When Zane had used the Nettle against Farns, he’d been blind and deaf. He’d struck out wildly, and the old abditus had taken a long time to die. Now, he wasn’t blind, and the death he administered would be much quicker.

He raised the Nettle, focused it on the center of Gullins’ chest, and activated it. The High Prince let out a agonized gasp as the thorn materialized tiny bits of metal inside his heart and then ripped them out through his chest.

Zane watched in silence as the Cragsman fell to his knees, clutching at the dozens of tiny holes in his chest. High Prince Gullins let out a final, pathetic gasp and fell face first onto the stones of the balcony floor.

Zane quickly surveyed the people around him to make sure no one was making a move to attack. He needn’t have worried. All of them, Craggish and Opelean alike, stared at him in open-mouthed horror. He didn’t turn away from their stares. He’d spent most of his life doing his killing in the safety of the shadows and under the cover of night. He’d always claimed he didn’t hide from what he did, that he didn’t pretend to be a good man, but killing in such a violent way and so publicly…for the first time in a long time, he felt shame. But he didn’t hide from it.

“Ferox Halloway.”

The voice came from behind him. He turned and saw Nicholas standing in the doorway. The servant from the kitchen stood behind him. The plan had been for him to get Nicholas after he’d brought Zane here.

“You have killed the High Prince,” Nicholas said. “And I will see you punished for your crime.”

Zane didn’t reply.

Nicholas stepped forward and raised his fists.

“Enough,” Zane said. “I surrender. I acknowledge your victory and throw myself upon your mercy.”

Nicholas smiled. “Very well. Then you shall receive mercy.”

Lily and Prince Christopher looked on in wide-eyed confusion, but the guards had understanding etched on their grim faces. They knew what had just happened here.

A new High Prince of the Crags had just claimed the throne.

***

The Opeleans, Zane included, were confined to their quarters for the next three days. They were treated well. The servants catered to their needs, and their rooms were luxurious. It was made clear, however, that they were not to leave the palace.

The servants gladly passed on news as soon as they heard it. Nicholas, having defeated in single combat the man who killed the High Prince, took on the title himself. There were no illusions about what had happened. Everyone knew Nicholas had been part of the plot against his predecessor. In the Crags, that kind of ruthless, violent ambition was not only tolerated, it was celebrated. The servants reported that the Craggish people were enthusiastic about their new leader.

“And what of us?” Prince Christopher asked the first night of their captivity.

Lily, Zane, and the Prince were sharing a late night drink in the Prince’s sitting room. Being together on the balcony had bonded them in some strange way.

“Nicholas has promised to free us,” Zane said. “As soon as it’s possible to do so.”

“And do you trust that he will?” the Prince asked.

Zane thought about that a moment before answering. “My Prince, please understand. Lily put her life on the line to save mine. I knew she’d be caught, and I knew she’d pay the price. I knew that you all would. That Opel itself would pay for her kindness. Killing the High Prince was the only thing I could think of…it was our best option, as terrible as it sounds.”

The Prince grimaced as he drained his glass. “It’s foolishness. All of it. Risking your nation for the life of a ferox!” He looked at Lily and shook his head, but his voice lacked conviction. He was too shaken by what he’d seen to be angry.

“In answer to your question, yes,” Zane said. “I do trust him to free us.”

“Really? He’ll free the man who killed the leader of his nation?”

“Also the man who gave him the throne,” Lily said.

“Things work differently in the Crags,” Zane reminded them.

“We shall see,” the Prince said. “We shall see.”

Two days later, Nicholas called for the three of them. The servants led them to the High Prince’s sitting room, the same place Zane had been caught attempting to steal the ruby that didn’t exist.

Nicholas was sitting in the tallest chair, a fur cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Zane was surprised at how regal he looked after only three days on the throne.

The new High Prince gestured for them to sit. When they had, he said, “Firstly, I want to let you know you needn’t worry about your safety. You’ll come to no harm here, and you’re free to leave the Crags as soon as we’re done with this conversation.”

Prince Christopher did a less than admirable job of hiding the relief that washed over his face.

“Secondly, I apologize for the delay in having this conversation. There was a lot to deal with. The people in the palace, the rich, my old friends in the underneath…they all wanted my attention.”

“How are they?” Zane asked. “You’re friends in the underneath, I mean. Are they pleased you have the throne?” Now that they’re no longer under the spell of the shimmer, he didn’t add.

Nicholas frowned. “They…they’ll come around. In any case, I also had the Tavel diplomats to deal with. I’ve sent them on their way back home.”

This time, Prince Christopher didn’t even try to hide his excitement. “That is wonderful news, High Prince. I stand ready to resume the negotiations we started with your predecessor.”

“That won’t be necessary. I think you’ll find I do things quite differently than Gullins. Long, drawn out negotiations aren’t the way I operate. I understand what you want from us and what you have to offer. There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Then you’ll unite with us to fight the Tavel threat?” the Opelean Prince asked.

Nicholas turned to Zane. “Before you helped me take the crown, I made a promise. I told you I would do the right thing for my people, always, even when it was hard. That starts now.” He looked at the Prince. “I’ve signed a treaty with Tavel to provide ground troops for the war. I’m sorry to inform you we are now enemies. Your people will soon be facing my people on the battlefield.”

The Prince’s face went pale. “High Prince, whatever they offered you—”

“This is not a discussion,” Nicholas snapped. “You have twenty-four hours to depart. I’ll provide an escort to the Opel border to ensure your safety.” He turned to Zane. “I’m clearing the city of all Opeleans. That includes Danum and his ferox. You should know they played no part in my plan to have you executed. As far as they knew, I really wanted you to steal a ruby from Gullins. You’ll take them with you when you leave?”

Zane nodded.

“Good.” The new High Prince put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to a standing position. “Then we’re done here. I’ll leave you with good wishes for your safe travels and even better wishes for your nation’s luck on the battlefield. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

CHAPTER TEN

Lily sat astride her horse, waiting to leave Sicar and return to Opel. She thought back to her old horse Moon who’d struggled to keep up with Zane and Faraday’s horses on her first trip to Langton. It seemed like so long ago. She felt like she was as different from that girl as her current horse was from Moon. She wondered, though, if she were better or worse. If she had it to do over again, would she lag behind while Zane and Faraday rode off into the distance? Maybe she’d turn Moon in a different direction. Maybe back to her parents’ farm. That life had once seemed insufficient; now she wasn’t so sure.

A young serving boy weaved his way through the Opelean horses and stopped next to her. “Abditus Rhodes? One of the Tavellers left this for you.” He shoved a piece of paper into her hand and ran off before she could respond.

She unfolded the paper and saw a brief note written in a familiar hand.

Lily,

I owe you a thousand apologies for my actions, both in Opel and here in the Crags. I wish we could have spoken while we were both here, but it wasn’t safe. I came to the Crags to acquire something more than the support of an army, and I succeeded in my goals. Someday, you will understand. There isn’t room on this page for the explanation you deserve. Simply know that I still love you and that we will be reunited. I am coming for you. Soon.

Yours,

Caleb

She read the note a second time, then crumpled it in her fist and let it fall to the ground. The cryptic statements alongside the professions of love sickened her.

Lily saw Zane standing next to Charles Danum, their heads close together, deep in conversation. She waved and caught Zane’s eye. He made his way toward her.

They hadn’t talked since Nicholas told them his decision the day before. What was there to say? She’d done something incredibly stupid to save his life and he’d done something incredibly stupid to save hers. To thank each other would cheapen their actions. They both understood.

They had saved each other’s lives, but at what cost? Would the Craggish nation even be entering the war if not for them? What destruction would Nicholas bring with his near-savage warriors and his powerful thorns, thorns that Opelean tangles had no hope of stopping? What price would the world pay for Lily and Zane’s meddling, for the high regard in which they held each other’s lives?

Zane approached her horse and gave it a pat.

Lily nodded toward Danum and the other ferox. “How are they?”

“Confused.” Zane glanced around as if checking to make sure no one was listening. He needn’t have worried. Among the hustle and bustle around them, Lily could only just make out his voice. “Lily, do you remember when I told you Jacob illegally sold shimmers that could change people’s emotions?”

She nodded. Where was this going?

“I lied to you.” He sighed, and she realized he couldn’t meet her eyes. “I didn’t turn him in after I caught him. He agreed to stop selling the shimmers, but only if I allowed him one more sale. He said that if I went along with him for this one job, he’d pay me half the profit. And I did it. The customer was Nicholas.”

Lily didn’t know which shocked her more, that the customer had been Nicholas or that Zane had sold an illegal shimmer to a foreigner.

“Our mentor caught us, and Jacob used a thorn on her. He wiped out her mind. Forever.” He paused for a moment. “She’s still like that. A creature of the impulse, unable to hold a thought for more than a moment. She lives in the Oasis. I went to see her when we were searching for Irving Farns.”

Lily remembered him slipping away when they were in the Oasis. She’d been furious at the time, angry that he’d abandoned her to take care of business he wouldn’t discuss with her.

“That’s the real reason I quit my abditus apprenticeship. I couldn’t take the guilt of what we’d done to our mentor.”

“Thank you,” Lily said. “Thank you for telling me.” She meant it. After all the years, all the secrets and lies, he was finally sharing something deeply personal with her. She knew how strongly that went against his nature, and she knew how much it meant.

He just nodded. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. “Oh, I meant to return this to you.” He handed her the Nettle. “It’s yours. I gave it to you.”

She smiled wryly. “And I gave it to you.”

“And I’m giving it back.”

She put the Nettle into her saddle bag. “You said that the ferox were confused. Is that because of Nicholas’s shimmer? Were they under its spell?”

Zane nodded. “They didn’t know about his plan to betray me, to have me executed, but they were under his spell. I made Nicholas give me the shimmer before I agreed to help him take the throne. If he wants to win the love of his people, he’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.” He looked up into her eyes. “Lily, as soon as we cross the mountains, the ferox and I will disappear. We’re not going to Langton.”

She’d suspected as much, and she didn’t blame him. She was half tempted to join him, but there was too much work to be done. “Where will you go?”

He looked off into the distance. “We haven’t worked out the details yet, but we’ll do what we can for the war effort. We’ll do it in our own way.”

“The ferox way?” she asked with a smile.

“Absolutely.” His face grew suddenly serious. “With the Craggish Army joining Tavel’s side, we have only one chance of evening the odds.”

“I know,” Lily said. “I’m already working on it.”

Zane smiled. “Good.”

He turned and walked back to join the other ferox.

***

King Edward glared across the table at Lily. She’d just finished giving her summary of what had happened in the Crags.

“Let me make sure I understand,” the King said. “I sent you to Tavel to form an alliance. Instead, you caused the death of their High Prince, helped crown his replacement, and then lost the support of that replacement. Am I understanding correctly?”

This wasn’t the first time the King was hearing the story. He’d heard it from the couriers Prince Christopher had sent ahead of them. He’d heard it from Prince Christopher. He’d heard Lily’s version of the story from Jacob Von Ridden. But he’d wanted to hear it from Lily herself.

“That is indeed an apt summary, Your Majesty,” Jacob said. “Though I’ll hasten to add that much of what you attributed to Lily was actually done by Zane Halloway.”

They were in the room under the castle, the room where the King preferred to have his most important meetings. The same room where she’d first met the King. And Jacob.

The King shot Jacob a furious look. “The same Zane Halloway you recommended as a reliable and skilled ferox when I needed help with that Charles Danum situation two years ago?” When Jacob didn’t reply, the King turned to his brother. “What about you? Anything to add?”

Prince Christopher shook his head. “She gave an accurate summation.”

Jacob licked his lips and held up a finger. “If I may, I’ve observed a few positive outcomes from this diplomatic excursion.”

The King raised his eyebrows. “This I must hear.”

“For one thing, Lily learned a good deal more than we previously knew about Craggish abditus and their thorns.”

“A great comfort that will be when they’re slicing through us on the battlefield. And may I point out that she also tutored them in glide magic.”

Jacob bowed his head, conceding the point. “We also developed a relationship with the new High Prince. Granted, it’s not currently paying dividends, but in the future, one never knows.”

The King scoffed. “Please stop trying, Jacob.” He rubbed at his eyes wearily. “We are already losing the war. Only by inches, yes, but we are losing. Now they have the Crags on their side? If anyone has a suggestion, I would be pleased to hear it.”

“Actually,” Jacob said, “Lily has a rather intriguing idea.”

The King looked at her expectantly. “I’m about five minutes from throwing you in a cell, so make it good.”

Lily took a deep breath. Even after all this time, she still got nervous when speaking to the King. Or maybe it was the fact that she was about to confess to a crime. “Back when I was apprenticing under Zane Halloway, we did a job behind the Blue Wall in Barnes.”

“The elvish ghetto?”

She nodded. “We met an elf named Ewrkind. He was a…a leader of sorts. He was gathering young elves, trying to teach them that they didn’t have to be so docile like their parents’ generation.”

The King leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You’re saying there is a revolutionary elf raising an army in Barnes?”

“I think we might be able to persuade him to join our cause.”

The King glared at her. “That’s not good enough. How many can he have? A few hundred? A thousand maybe? That’ll hardly make a dent in the Craggish forces.”

“If they’re like the elves of old, they could prove useful,” Prince Christopher said.

Jacob tapped Lily on the arm. “Tell him the other part.”

She cleared her throat. She reminded herself Ewrkind wanted this revealed. That he hated secrets. “Elves are immune to our magical devices. They don’t work on them.”

The King’s eyes narrowed. “Impossible. My grandfather fought them. He would have known.”

“The elves left few human survivors in those battles,” Jacob reminded him. “It would explain how they tore through us so easily.”

“Let me go to the elvish ghetto,” Lily said. “Let me talk to Ewrkind. I believe I can convince him to join us.”

“Freeing elves to fight in a war…I can barely guess at the political ramifications such an act would bring with it.” The King scratched at the stubble on his chin. “You understand that if I agree to send you to the elvish ghetto, I will not tolerate an empty-handed return. You cost me an army. If you fail to provide one to replace it, I will not be happy.”

Lily bowed her head. “I understand, Your Majesty.”

“It’s certainly an interesting idea,” the King said. “Before we talk about adding more players, there is one we need to subtract. Zane Halloway.”

A chill ran through Lily.

“He’s done too much damage. He’s like a Cull Flame, destroying everything in his path. We have to kill him.”

“He’s a ferox assassin, Your Majesty,” Jacob said. “They are difficult to kill in the best of circumstances. And with all our resources focused on the war effort—”

“The way I understand it,” the King interrupted, “he’s one of four ferox assassins. Where are the other three?”

Jacob’s eyes widened. “I…I don’t know. I’d have to check with the Ferox Society.”

“Find them. Tell the Society to pull them off whatever they’re doing. This is the priority now. As far as I’m concerned Halloway is the reason the Craggish Army is on Tavel’s side. I want him dead, and I want it to happen quickly. Understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jacob said.

“Good.” The King turned to Lily. “Now, let’s talk about how you’re going to get me an army of elves.”

BOOK SIX: CROWNS AND DEAD MEN

PROLOGUE

Bartholomew stood as still as a stone, his sword held straight in front of him. Sweat rolled freely down his arms, face, and back. He badly wanted to wipe it out of his eyes, but his mentor wouldn’t allow it. If the tip of the sword dipped more than an inch, or if he took either hand off the hilt, he would have to start again. He been at it twenty-five minutes, and he did not want to start again.

His mentor watched him silently, her face unreadable. Her hands were crossed behind her as she slowly paced, observing him from all angles. He wanted to ask what she was looking for, whether the tremors that occasionally passed through his arms would count against him, but speaking would also result in being forced to start over.

His mentor was a difficult woman.

With the finish line only two minutes away, his hands began to shake. He wondered why his body was revolting, betraying him at the moment when he needed it most. He took long, slow breaths, breathing air into his burning muscles and his aching limbs, concentrating on feeling the healing power flow into him with each breath. His mentor had once told him, “The greatest gift in life is all around us. It’s freely available to all, rich or poor, man or woman, young buck like you or old crone like me.”

“Are you talking about magic?” he’d asked. He was desperate for her to begin teaching him magic, the thing for which she was so well known, but she’d scolded him each time he’d mentioned it.

“I’m talking about air!” she’d snapped. “Take a moment to marvel at the wonder of it. The thing we need most, the thing that keeps us alive, the thing that sustains our very bodies, and we barely give it a moment’s thought. When you’re in pain and it feels like you have nothing left, think of air.”

As he watched the tip of the sword steady in front of him, Bartholomew had to admit, she had a point. His arms did feel a bit better now that he was concentrating on the air entering his lungs.

“And that,” his mentor said, “is time. Very well done, young man.”

He gasped in gratitude and lowered the sword, letting the tip swing down near the floor. His muscles screamed in a strange mixture of pain and relief.

Suddenly, his mentor had her sword in her hand. He hadn’t seen her draw it. Those types of things were common with her. She’d do something seemingly impossible, and he’d be left to wonder whether she’d accomplished the feat with skill or magic. She was a master of both. It wouldn’t have surprised him to learn she’d simply moved so quickly his eyes had missed the motion, but she just as easily could have used a shimmer.

Lily Rhodes gave him a wicked smile, her wrinkled old face alive with delight. “I said your time was up. I didn’t tell you to lower your sword.”

He sighed and allowed himself a moment—but only a moment—of self-pity. Any longer, and she’d deliver a cruel slap with the flat of her blade. He raised his sword and grimaced. This was his least favorite part of his apprenticeship.

Bartholomew waited.

One moment Lily was still, and the next she was attacking. He never saw the transition, the beginnings of her movement. She started with a standard lunge which he just barely deflected. She then moved to the left, spinning, and attacked his right side. A few months ago he would have thought such a move impossible. But back then he hadn't seen Lily move.

She attacked low. He parried. She attacked high. He parried.

He soon realized she wasn't trying to hit him, only trying to test him. She was pushing him hard enough that he was just at the edge of breaking, and she kept him there, neither letting up nor increasing the intensity of her attack. It went on for minutes, though it felt like hours. Finally when he wasn't sure he could hold the sword up any longer, when he’d passed the point of exhaustion, she gave the quickest flick of the wrist, brought her sword down at a sharp angle, and knocked his to the floor.

Lily watched, her face unreadable, as Bartholomew gasped for air. It was bad enough for a sixteen-year-old boy to be bested by a woman who looked as ancient as this one. It was made worse by the fact that she wasn't even winded. He put his hands on his knees, trying to regain his breath.

He silently cursed her. He hadn't come here for this. He’d come here to learn magic. He’d worked harder than any of his classmates over the last four years, graduating from the Abditus Academy with top honors so he’d be noticed by the best mentors. He wanted to be selected for his skill, not for his family name. And he had been. Lily, widely regarded as the best of the best mentors, selected him, and he’d felt in that moment that his future was secured. She’d trained kings, legends, and even—if the stories were to be believed—elves. And she’d selected him as her next student.

He hadn't expected his training to be like this. He had never been a fighter, never wanted to be a fighter. But she insisted on it. She said it was an integral part of any abditus training. He’d known she was eccentric, he just hadn’t known how much pain her eccentricity would cause him.

If she noticed his discomfort, she didn’t respond to it. Her sword was back in its scabbard, and she once again had her arms crossed behind her back.

Bartholomew had to concentrate very hard to keep from saying something rude. He’d questioned her only once in their time together, and he’d regretted it all through the long night on the rooftop that followed. He’d spent eight hours practicing sword forms in the rain.

“Follow me,” Lily said. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked out of the room.

Bartholomew followed her to the large sitting room, an open space that could have easily seated thirty, dominated by a massive hearth. They sat in the two chairs closest to the fire, and Lily poured him a cup of tea. His hands shook as he took it from her, making the cup rattle against the saucer.

After he’d taken a sip, she said, “Tell me what you did wrong.”

“I allowed myself to be placed with the wrong mentor.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he instantly regretted his answer. His face flushed, and thoughts of another night on the roof filled his mind.

To his surprise, his mentor cackled, rocking back and forth at the hilarity of his statement. He dared not speak. When she finally stopped laughing, she leaned forward and glared at him.

“Explain,” she said. “Speak freely. You won’t be punished.”

He greatly doubted the truth of that statement.

When he didn’t immediately respond, she said, “I’d have your honest answer, not the one you come up with after thinking on it for five minutes.”

He nodded, then said, “I came here to learn magic. I’ve been here for months, and you’ve taught me none.”

She kept staring at him with those piercing brown eyes, so he continued.

“My friends from the Academy tell me in their letters of all the things they’re learning. One is even producing Cull Flames from scratch. And selling them.”

“Ridiculous,” Lily muttered. “Allowing a fresh apprentice to sell Cull Flames.”

She didn’t seem angry, though. Not with him. She was actually listening to his complaints. He had to keep going.

“Haven’t I done everything you’ve asked of me? Haven’t I learned the sword to the best of my ability? And I’ve never once asked you why.” He broke away from her gaze and looked down at the floor. “I’m asking now. Why must I learn these things?”

“I told you why,” she snapped. “A strong body helps strengthen the mind. I trained as a ferox for two years. I passed the ferox placement exam. And it’s because of that training that I—”

“I know the histories,” he said. He’d surprised himself, cutting her off like that. He was angry, a feeling that had been simmering for weeks and was only now boiling over. “Yours was a different time. My professors at the Academy said I have real potential, and I don’t want to squander our time together. I’ll never be called upon to use a sword.”

Lily chuckled. “You have no idea what the future holds, boy. You have no idea what you will or won’t be called to do. There was a time I thought I’d never meet a king. Never wield a thorn or build a tangle. Never go to war. But those things happened. Those and so many more.”

Bartholomew suddenly realized how little he knew about the woman sitting next to him. He knew the complicated relationship she’d had with his own family over the years. He knew the five or six famous stories, like everyone else. Her role in the second golden age of magic. The thing with the elves. The way she’d outwitted the wetlanders who’d underestimated her because of her advanced age. But those events spanned sixty years. And the gaps between the stories, the times he knew nothing of, those constituted a life. He knew the legend but not the person.

After a moment, she said, “I fought alongside your grandfather for a time.” She grinned slyly. “Did a bit more than fight with him, too, if you catch my meaning.”

Bartholomew was afraid he did catch her meaning, and he turned crimson. He knew she’d fought alongside his grandfather and how things had ended between them.

“What he would have thought of the lot of you, I don’t know,” she said. “Caleb Longstrain’s grandchildren, a bunch of pretentious nobles. Who’d have guessed it?”

He scowled but said nothing. He’d been hearing this type of thing his whole life. When he was young, he’d felt pride in the pirate side of his family tree. That had quickly gone away at the Academy when everyone he met wore the same look of disappointment upon learning the scrawny, bookish boy in front of them was the grandson of Caleb Longstrain and the great-grandson of the legendary pirate Henry Longstrain.

Lily looked at him crookedly for a moment. “Tell me, young Bartholomew, what do you know of Zane Halloway?”

That surprised him. In truth, he knew very little. “I know he was your mentor for a short time before the war. I know he killed my great-grandfather. I know the song, of course.” He cleared his throat and then softly sang, “The outcast Zane went to Harken town, a price upon his head. He had no coin, he wore but rags, and his own king wished him dead.”

Lily wave a hand in the air, her face scrunched up as if she’d smelled something foul. “Stop, stop.”

Bartholomew let his voice trail off, mildly offended. He prided himself on his rich, baritone voice. Many young ladies in court had complimented him on it before succumbing to his charms and allowing him a kiss.

“Zane Halloway never wore rags, I’ll tell you that much,” Lily said. “He did go to Harken, and the king did order him assassinated. Beyond that…” She stared into the fire for a while before continuing. “It was a strange time. I’d just returned from the Crags. The king blamed Zane and me for the Craggish High Prince aligning with the Tavellers.  He sent three assassins after Zane.”

“And what about you?” Bartholomew asked. He knew how the war ended, but not much about how it began.

“The king probably would have ordered me killed as well, but I offered to find an army to replace the one I’d lost him. The elves. So Prince Christopher and I headed behind the Blue Wall in Barnes to see if I could keep that promise. I knew I’d be killed if I failed. How’s that for motivation?” She cackled. Then her face darkened. “As I found out later when Zane told me his story, he was facing an even more immediate threat.”

Lily’s eyes were unfocused, as if she was lost in the remembering.

“I’ll bet your silly song didn’t cover that part of it,” she continued. “There are so many exaggerated stories about me, and all Zane gets is a song full of half-truths that completely misses the point of what was best about him. He was good with a sword, yes, but…there was much more to him than that.”

“What was best about him?” Bartholomew’s aching arms were suddenly forgotten. He’d been told Lily Rhodes never talked about the past. Now, here she was doing just that. Perhaps she was growing nostalgic in her old age.

She looked back at him, and he was surprised to see a smile on her face.

“He was determined, for one thing. Once he took a job, he didn’t stop until it was completed. And he was clever. For every fight he won, there were two he avoided with his deft tongue. He always managed to survive, even in the stickiest of situations. But most of all he was good. He was a good man, an honorable man, though he would have been the last one to admit it.” She held up a wrinkled, crooked finger. “You asked why you have to learn the sword. You want to know what good can come of steel and violence? I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you what happened to me, and I’ll tell you what happened to Zane, same way he told it to me.”

She took a small sip of tea, then set the cup and saucer down on the table beside her.

“Listen, young Bartholomew Longstrain, and I’ll tell you how Zane Halloway and I spent the Tavel War.”

CHAPTER ONE

Zane Halloway looked out the window at the city of Gippen. It had been a long while since he'd walked these particular streets, and he let his eyes drift, taking in the familiar sights of so many years ago.

After leaving the Crags, Zane, Charles Danum, and the three younger ferox had headed north, mostly because Lily and Prince Christopher’s party had headed south. Zane couldn't go to Barnes. He'd considered it briefly; that was where most of his wealth was stored, after all. However, he decided against it. It was too dangerous. They’d be looking for him there. He knew King Edward would be furious about what Zane had done in the Crags. He wouldn’t let Zane’s action go unanswered. The king would send people after Zane. It wouldn’t be soldiers or members of the King’s Guard; he’d need them for the war. So it would be ferox. And Zane suspected he knew which ones.

Zane had enough coin to cover expenses for a few weeks. After much discussion, they'd headed to the other city Zane knew best. The place where Zane had first been placed as a ferox eighteen years ago.

Gippen was a small, isolated city, and it had a long memory. When they’d arrived, he’d found that many of the residents remembered him fondly, and those that didn’t had older relatives who did. Few moved to or from Gippen, so there were plenty of familiar faces. The city had been assigned an epic string of terrible ferox after Zane left, so that had probably also helped cement his reputation with the locals. Part of him, a prideful part, wondered if those ferox had really been so bad, or if he had simply set the people’s expectations too high. Whatever the reason, ten years ago the Gippen city council had politely but firmly asked the Ferox Society to stop placing their members in Gippen, and the city had been without a ferox ever since.

It also helped that these northerners were nearly self-sufficient. They traded for a few luxuries from the south, but the forests around them were teeming with life and provided for all their needs. The residents had no love for the crown, and they begrudged the king the taxes he forced them to pay. Zane knew all of this, and he knew that if someone from the south came sniffing around, the Gippeners would deny all knowledge of his existence and promptly report the news to Zane.

Which was how he came to hear about the white-haired stranger with a limp who’d shown up an hour before in a tavern on the east side of the city. The stranger was asking questions about a ferox named Zane Halloway.

Zane was sitting at a table with Danum and his three ferox. They were in the serving room at the Northern Iron Inn where they’d been staying for the past week. An elderly man whose name Zane couldn’t remember marched up to him and passed on the news. According to the man, the white-haired stranger had been very persistent in his inquires. Eventually, the bartender had asked the stranger to leave, and he’d done so without complaint. The old man had come directly to the Northern Iron to reports the news.

Zane thanked the man and handed him a coin for his trouble.

When the man was gone, Zane shared his suspicions about the stranger’s identity with his table mates.

Gladys was the first to respond. “If you’re right, we’d better either leave town now or come up with a plan to kill him very quickly.”

Zane nodded. He liked Gladys. She reminded him of Lily, though she was tall and fair where Lily was short and dark. They both had the same no-nonsense attitude. Apparently they’d been in the Academy together. Gladys was almost as good with a blade as Lily was. Almost.

Randell, a stocky, raven-haired ferox who carried a broadsword, glanced at Danum. “You worked with him, didn’t you, Charles?”

Danum nodded. “That I did. I didn’t much like him. Something’s not right about the man. He’s vicious. He enjoys what he does a little too much.”

“Xavier Kipling is the best swordsman in the country,” Zane said. “If he’s hunting us, we need a plan, and quickly.”

“So what do we do?” It was the final member of their team, Sara. She was looking at Zane when she said it. She was the only one of the three rogue ferox who had stopped pretending Danum was in charge, and Zane respected her for it. She rarely ever spoke, but, when she did, the words were always worth hearing.

Zane scratched at his chin. “Gladys is correct. We run or we fight. Personally, I’m in favor of fighting. The good news is he hasn’t found us yet. We have the upper hand. We’ll start working sources in the morning. It shouldn’t take long to find where he’s staying. Then we deal with him.”

Twenty minutes later, Danum, Randell, and Sara retired to their rooms for the evening. They’d agreed to take three-hour shifts watching the inn’s two entrances. Zane and Gladys took the first shift, with Zane watching the front entrance and Gladys watching the back.

As the other ferox left, Zane watched the door and let his mind wander. He thought about how he would approach the job if he’d been hired to track down five ferox. He certainly wouldn’t have waggled his jaw about the job in some local tavern. But Xavier Kipling had never been one for subtlety. He trusted his skill with the sword far too much. No, the only reason Zane would talk openly in public about his targets was if…

Zane suddenly felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

The only reason Zane would talk openly in public about his targets was if he wanted it to get back to them. If he wanted to make them think he didn’t know where they were. If he wanted to feed them information. And he’d only do that as a final step to misdirect their attention right before he struck.

Zane leapt up from the table, ignoring the surprised barkeep and patrons who gawked at him open-mouthed as he dashed through the serving area and up the steps to the rooms. He came to Sara’s room first, and he pounded on the door in the pattern they used to convey danger. There was no response. He knocked again and once again there was no answer.

He was about to turn and head toward Danum’s room when he heard something through the door. Something faint. It sounded like a whimper.

Zane snarled and kicked at the door, just below the knob. It groaned but didn’t open. He kicked again, and this time the door jamb splintered. A third kick sent the door swinging open behind a shower of shattered wood.

He stepped into the room and stopped short when he saw her. He fell to his knees next to the pool of blood spreading around Sara. She’d been stabbed in the stomach, and her throat had been slashed. Two efficient wounds, and, knowing the person who’d made them, each would have been deadly on its own.

Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow.

“Sara,” he whispered. She didn’t react to his voice.

He heard a crash coming from across the hall. Danum’s room.

Zane hesitated, but only for a moment. There wasn’t much he could do here, and if there was still a chance of saving the other, he had to take it. He turned and left Sara there, dying on the ground.

When he got to Danum’s door, he didn’t bother knocking. It too was locked, but, whether it was the blood rushing through his veins or he was just properly warmed up, he broke through the door on the first kick.

Xavier Kipling stood over the body of Charles Danum, blood dripping from his sword. Zane looked down and saw his old friend lying on the ground, a bloody hole in the center of his stomach.

Kipling smiled thinly at the sight of Zane. “Well, this certainly saves me some time.”

Zane glanced back at the open window behind Kipling. The man must have gone out Sara’s window and come in this one. There was no way Danum would have let him through the door. Zane couldn’t help but be impressed at the speed at which Kipling worked. Danum and Sara had only left the table five minutes ago.

Zane gripped his sword with a trembling hand. “Ferox!” he called, hoping Gladys and Randell heard him. Hoping they were not lying in pools of blood.

Kipling and Zane stood looking at each other, two of the four assassins of the Opel Ferox Society, knowing one of them would very shortly be dead.

“You hid in her room,” Zane said. “You caught her unawares and you killed her.”

“I’d hoped to wait in your room,” Kipling said. “But time was of the essence and her window was easier to access. Shall we proceed?” There was something in the old ferox’s eyes, something like glee.

Zane grimaced. Kipling and the other two assassins were close. They worked together often and met regularly. They shared a common purpose and a common dislike of Zane, the youngest of them by ten years. They didn’t approve of how he’d come into his position, killing the pirate Longstrain at the very time there happened to be an opening. They believed his appointment had been made for purely political reasons rather than because he was truly the best man for the job. And Zane couldn’t argue with that. But, however he’d come to the job, he did his best to be worthy of it.

Zane was about to face the greatest swordsman in Opel. He needed every edge he could get. He took a deep breath and raised his sword in his right hand. He lowered his left hand and let the object in his sleeve drop into it.

Kipling flicked his wrist. Drops of blood fell away from his blade and hit the ground in a neat arch.

Zane nodded that he was ready. Then, instead of moving forward to engage, he stepped back, brought up his left hand, and threw the knife in it at his opponent.

This, he knew, was his one chance at an advantage. The elderly man had said Kipling had been limping, favoring his right leg. It was possible the limp was an act, part of his character he’d sold to the patrons at the tavern in order to gain trust, but it seemed more likely the assassin had actually injured his left leg since the last time Zane had seen him five years earlier. Which gave Zane a slight advantage. Still, he’d much rather fight someone with two bad legs than one.

The knife hit home and sank into the flesh of Kipling’s right thigh. Zane followed quickly after the blade, lunging with his sword. To Kipling’s credit, he responded about as well as was possible. He cried out in surprise and pain, but he didn’t put his hand on the knife in his leg, thus lowering his defenses, as Zane had hoped. He didn’t even glance down at the spot. He brought his sword up in a clean, sharp line, deflecting Zane’s thrust.

Zane pressed the attack, but not too hard. Kipling was injured, and Zane was counting on the fact that the assassin would want this fight to be over quickly. The longer it went on, the more desperate Kipling would get. Desperate people could be dangerous, but they could also be sloppy. So Zane fought deliberately, methodically, not taking any risks. Every attack was standard, by the book, but he executed his moves sharply. The goal was for the older assassin to wear down even as he bled on the floor.

Zane heard voices behind him; Gladys and Randell responding to his call. His body was blocking the door, but he wasn’t about to take an ounce of concentration off Kipling to find a way to let them in, not when he had Kipling at a disadvantage.

Then it happened. Kipling attacked, lunging a bit off balance. Zane deflected the blow, barely, but then he had his opponent where he wanted him. He attacked Kipling’s left side, forcing the man to put his weight on the injured right leg. Kipling parried, and Zane attacked from the left again. And again. And again. Until finally a hole opened in Kipling’s defenses, and Zane drove his blade through it and into the man’s stomach.

Kipling fell to his knees and coughed, sending a mist of blood spraying into the air.

Zane rested his blade on the back of Kipling’s neck. “Tell me.”

Kipling chuckled weakly. “You think to threaten me? I’m already dead.”

Zane ignored that statement. “The king hired you to kill me. Why take a man like you away from the front? Is he that vengeful?”

“Like it matters. The war’s not going well, and now they say the Craggish Army is coming to fight on the side of Tavel. You might be doing me a favor. Opel won’t exist in six months. And I doubt Tavel will have a warm welcome for its enemy’s assassins.” He looked up at Zane. “I wish it hadn’t been you, though.” He coughed violently, and more blood sprayed onto the floor. “There’s something for you in my pocket. Read it after you’re done.”

Zane nodded. He paused, wondering if he should speak some final word of peace before finishing the job, but he decided against it. Assassins didn’t deserve comfort in their final moments. He brought down his sword and ended Kipling’s life.

Zane felt Randell and Gladys behind him, but neither of them spoke. He reached into the dead man’s pocket and found a sealed envelope containing a single sheet of paper.

Zane,

Come to Harken or Lily dies. History repeats itself.

Caleb Longstrain

***

Zane stood over Charles Danum, looking down at his old friend’s ashen face. It had been twelve hours since the attack. The local physician had tended to Danum, and the appropriate balms had been applied. He would live, the physician assured them, but he would need to spend the next few weeks in bed.

The doctor had arrived too late for Sara and, thanks to Zane, too late for Kipling.

It would have been nice to take time to grief for their fallen friend, but they didn’t have that luxury. There were two more assassins out there, and Zane was convinced they were coming for him.

“The Pruits won’t follow us out of Opel,” Zane said. “We could run.”

“So,” Randell said, “we can either flee Opel or go to Harken to save Lily and risk facing the Pruits?”

“How do we know they can take us out?” Gladys asked. “There are three of us and two of them, right?”

“I’m not dead yet,” Danum said weakly.

Gladys frowned. “No. You’re alive and you’ll stay that way as long as I can help it. But you won’t be fighting, either. So we have three fighters. It should be enough. Zane already took care of one of the assassins on his own.”

“They’ll beat us,” Zane said, his voice grim. “Kipling liked killing. He lived for it. His passion blinded him at times. The Pruits are different. They are professionals who take no emotion, joy nor sorrow, in what they do. They are cold, efficient killers, plain and simple.”

“Like you,” Danum said, a thin smile on his face.

Zane looked down at Danum, suddenly troubled. Was that how people saw him? This was a man who’d led the Ferox Society for years and sent dozens of jobs Zane’s way. If even Danum looked at him that way, what must everyone else think of him?

“Perhaps,” Zane said. “They are better than me, though.” Danum started to speak, but Zane held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not being modest. It’s the truth. I have a tendency to get caught up in my own theatrics. I’m often impressed by my cleverness. Grim as it may sound, I like seeing the looks on my targets’ faces when they know I’ve out-maneuvered them and their lives are forfeit.”

He glanced at the younger ferox and saw their eyes were wide. He suddenly realized he was doing this partly because time was of the essence and partly as an object lesson. A ferox must always know himself, even the ugly parts. He had always loved teaching. If circumstances had been different, perhaps he could have been a schoolmaster. If he somehow survived this madness, perhaps he could teach at the Ferox Academy. The thought gave him a sudden feeling of hope, but he quickly suppressed it. The odds of him surviving this week, let alone this war, were very slim indeed.

“The Pruits share none of my vices in regards to killing,” he continued. “They love the coin and the lifestyle the job brings, but not the job itself. And in that, they have me at a disadvantage. So I want you to think very hard about your decision. I’m going to Harken. I don’t expect any of you to go with me. It’s me the Pruits are after. If I leave, they’ll follow. You can stay here and recover. When Charles is well enough to travel, you can start another life in the Crags or Tavel or even the wetlands if that’s what you want. Perhaps you wish to travel even farther, to find out what lies beyond the edges of our maps. You can go somewhere you can have peace. You’ll go with my blessing. The decision is yours.”

There was a long moment of silence and a somber air of heaviness fell over the room.

Finally, Gladys said in a shaky voice, “Zane, there is no choice to be had. We won’t allow you to travel to Harken alone. Consequences and Pruits be damned.”

Randell gave a sharp nod. “We spent over a year in that hellish prison in Tavel and another year in the Crags dreaming of the day we could come home. Now that we’re here, we’re not about to turn tail just because some assassins are after us. We’re better than all that.”

Gladys put a hand on Zane’s shoulder and smiled. “My thoughts exactly. Let’s cut down these overrated assassins and do Charles proud.”

Zane drew in a breath. He was deeply touched. These were fellow ferox, yes, but they had no real reason to be loyal to him. They’d only spent a brief time together. Yet they’d stood by his side.

“Thank you,” he said. The words weren’t enough, but he didn’t know what else to say. “Then I suggest we spend the evening preparing for travel. We leave at dawn.”

A few hours before sunrise, Zane went to Danum’s room. “You’ll make sure Gladys and Randall don’t follow me?”

Danum nodded. “They are brave, and they are dumb, much like we used to be. But I’ll talk some sense into them.”

“Good.” Zane touched his old friend’s hand. “Be well, Charles.”

By the time the younger ferox awoke, Zane was gone.

CHAPTER TWO

Lily sat across the large oak table from Ewrkind, staring at his forehead, careful not to meet his eyes. It wasn’t healthy to look an elf in the eye. Their legendary powers of persuasion were too strong.

She’d finished her proposal almost a minute ago, and the elf had yet to respond. His face betrayed nothing. She was tempted to speak, to press her case, but she knew that would be a misstep. This was a game, and the first one to speak would lose.

Due to her prior relationship with Ewrkind, Prince Christopher had allowed her to take the lead in the conversation, which had surprised her. She suspected he was making sure none of the blame could fall on him if this went wrong. She didn’t mind. This had been her idea, after all, and she’d rather it succeed or fail based on her own performance rather than that of the prince.

Finally, Ewrkind spoke. “You’ll forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical.”

Now that she’d scored the first point, she found herself enjoying the feeling. Rather than replying or restating her case, she let her silence show her confidence.

Ewrkind leaned forward and said, “Just to be clear, you will let us live outside the Blue Wall?”

She nodded.

“On land in the northern forests where we’d be free to govern ourselves?”

She nodded again. “As long as you don’t bother any Opeleans, we won’t bother you.”

Ewrkind smiled grimly. “Well now, there’s the problem.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I’ve read the histories. Your people’s definition of bothering Opeleans is rather broad. Does it count as bothering if we happen to wander into someone’s line of sight? If a child from a nearby village goes missing, will my people be blamed? When the young men have their first night of alcoholic indulgence and seek out an elf to throw rocks at, is that elf allowed to defend himself?”

Now Lily leaned forward. “I just spent three weeks negotiating in the Crags, and I don’t intend to relive the experience here with you. I’m sorry, but we don't have time to work through every possible scenario. I can’t instantly solve the issue of the suspicion you will undoubtedly receive from some Opeleans. What I can do is remove you from behind the Blue Wall. It’s really quite simple. Do you want to be free or don’t you?”

Ewrkind glanced at the elves sitting next to him. Gabel was on his right; Lily had thought the elf was Ewrkind’s servant, but it appeared she’d misjudged their relationship. He seemed to be a close advisor. Maybe even Ewrkind’s second in command. A shorter elf sat to his left. A few sheets of blank paper and an inkwell sat untouched in front of him. His presence made Lily hopeful that Ewrkind was ready to make an agreement and put it in writing today.

Ewrkind asked, “How many can I bring with me?”

“As many as are willing to fight,” Lily said. “After the war, they will be relocated to an area in the northern forest, along with their immediate families.”

“The ones who survive, anyway,” Ewrkind said.

Lily didn’t take the bait. He had the information. He could make his decision. And a moment later, he did just that.

“No,” he said.

Lily raised an eyebrow. She was almost certain this was an opening gambit, a way to gain leverage, but she hadn’t expected a flat-out refusal and couldn’t help but be a little surprised. “No? Isn’t this the very thing you have been fighting for? You sat at this table with Zane and I and told us you wanted freedom for your people. That you were willing to do what the older elves were not in order to get it. I’m giving you that chance.”

Ewrkind smiled. “Here’s what I think. I think you’re losing the war. I think your negotiations in the Crags fell apart, and now the Craggish are joining forces with your enemy. I think you are desperate for any ally you can get, and Tavel doesn’t have any elves within their borders, other than the few dozen who fled while your king was rounding us up and putting us in city-shaped cages.”

Lily took a drink from the wine glass in front of her, buying herself a moment to think. She was in over her head, but she had gotten herself into this situation. The king had been on a tirade about her role in the negotiations failure with the Craggish. He’d been furious at her. And at Zane. Poor Zane, with three ferox assassins after him. She swore she’d find a way to help him when she was done here.

But now she needed to focus on Ewrkind. The fate of a nation might hang in the balance, and that was more important than one man’s life, even if that man was Zane.

She’d told the king she could get him an elvish army as if it was a guaranteed arrangement. There was no way she could return to him empty-handed, not so soon after failing in the Crags. If she couldn’t come to terms with Ewrkind, she’d have to slip her royal escorts and go into hiding unless she wanted to face the king’s wrath and almost certain execution.

Lily had also misrepresented herself to Ewrkind. She’d presented herself as the king’s representative, which was true, but she’d also strongly implied that she had the power to negotiate. In truth, the king had been reluctant to agree to her proposal to release any elf who agreed to fight for Opel. It was a big decision, a major shift in policy, and a change that would not be popular with whatever people these elves ended up settling near. But this was war and the king was desperate. At least he’d had the good sense to send Prince Christopher along with her to help with the negotiations. The prince was none too happy about it, either. His dream of leading troops on the battlefield had been deferred once again. Not only that, but he was sitting in the elvish ghetto, a truly humbling experience for a member of the royal family. Lily noticed he kept rubbing his hands together as if miming the motion of washing them to remove the filth of this place.

Now that Lily thought about it, this was a very Zane-like situation she’d gotten herself into.

She softly cleared her throat and spoke in a calm, confident voice. “What you say is true. We are losing the war.” The prince shot her a glare. The royals never wanted to admit to any weakness, not even when it was in their best interest. She ignored his stare and continued. “If we weren’t losing the war, you wouldn’t have this opportunity. A good leader knows how to take advantage of these types of situations, does he not?”

Ewrkind chuckled, giving Lily a broad smile. “Ah, I’ve forgotten your wit, Miss Rhodes. Though, I liked you better when you were a ferox, before you began meddling with magics and kings.”

Or before they began meddling with me, Lily wanted to retort, but she held her tongue. She hadn’t chosen this life. It had been forced upon her by circumstance. No, that wasn’t right. It was her mentors, Zane and Jacob, and their strange, strained relationship that had brought her to this place. But Ewrkind didn’t need to know all that.

Prince Christopher said, “Do you agree to our terms?”

Lily bit her tongue. She was not pleased that the prince had chosen this moment to intervene. It made her appear weak.

Ewrkind gave his head a quick shake. “No. I do not. As I already told you.”

A darkness fell across Prince Christopher’s face. “Then let me clarify our message. Your king, my brother, has conscripted you and all able-bodied elves behind the Blue Wall into His Royal Majesty’s service in the war against his enemies. You will have one day to prepare your people.”

Lily felt a chill as the mood in the room changed.

Ewrkind shifted in his seat, subtly adjusting his posture and leaning forward. The effect was dramatic. He now appeared to be looming over them. His features were hard when he spoke. “There is a difference between me and the other elves you may have encountered, Prince Christopher. I will not be intimidated. I think you’ll find conscripting me into your war will not go well for you.”

Lily was suddenly aware of their precarious situation. They were badly outnumbered. If Ewrkind decided it might be a good idea to take Prince Christopher as a hostage, what could she do about it?

Sure, she could fight, but she doubted her ability to take down Ewrkind, let alone him and his followers.

Ewrkind continued before the prince responded to his thinly veiled threat. “It is no small thing that you ask. To fight on the behalf of the nation that put my people in chains.”

Prince Christopher’s voice was almost gentle when he spoke, a tone Lily had never heard from him before. “I know you can’t see it from in here, but this king is a friend to your people. Since he took the throne, he’s increased the budget for infrastructure in the ghettos. You have to admit, the roads, the public buildings, they are all much better than they were in my father’s time.”

Ewrkind’s face didn’t soften. “You ask me to love my captor because he gives me roads? A slave owner who beats his slave less often than his peers is still a slave owner. Tell me, this king who is such a friend to our people, why has he not freed us?”

The prince shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s not that simple.”

“Is he not the king?” Ewrkind asked, his voice getting louder, his anger clearly building. “Is his word not law? It’s as simple as putting pen to paper.” He turned toward Lily, his glare burning into her though she didn’t meet his eyes. “And you. You said you’ve been in the king’s court for over a year. How many times have you petitioned for our freedom? How many times have you even broached the topic with His Royal Majesty? Did you even think of us when you began to build the magical devices that have the power to make my people grow sick and die if they touch elvish magic?”

Lily felt herself wither under his glare. She had no response to his line of questioning. In truth, she’d never once considered asking the king about the elves. They lived in the ghettos. That was the way it had been her whole life. She’d never even imagined it being different until she’d come up with this plan to release some in exchange for their help in battle.

Ewrkind turned back to the prince. “I will provide three hundred elvish warriors. As Lily told you, we are immune to your thorns magic, so we can fight on the front lines. We have nothing to fear from the Craggish or Taveller abditus. I will personally lead them.”

The prince nodded slowly, as if at a loss for words at this unexpected turnaround.

“Some of these elves will die,” Ewrkind continued. “Perhaps all of them will. And I will not sell their lives cheaply.” He looked at the prince, and his gaze wasn’t that of a prisoner looking at his captor. It wasn’t even the gaze of a subject looking at his prince. It was the look of a king gazing at someone below him, someone to whom he was obligated to be polite. “In return, after the war is won, you will release every elf from behind the Blue Wall. Release all of us to the woods of the north. Not just the ones who fight.”

Prince Christopher’s face grew red. This demand was clearly beyond anything he’d expected. “You presume too much, elf.”

Ewrkind’s face hardened at the tone of the prince’s voice as he said the word elf.

Lily looked from Prince Christopher to Ewrkind. This talk was on the verge of breaking down. The king had told her in no uncertain terms he expected them to return from this trip with an army. She was technically here on behalf of the king, just as the prince was, but perhaps she could serve as a sort of mediator.

“My Prince,” she said, “notice that he specified the elves should be released to the northern woods when the war is won. I assume that was an intentional statement?”

Ewrkind nodded sharply, his furious gaze never leaving the prince.

“Imagine the motivation that will provide the elves,” Lily said. “They will literally be fighting for their freedom and for freedom for their families.”

Prince Christopher scoffed. “A lot of good that will do an untrained group of elves against the Craggish who, may I remind you, have been training since they were five years old.”

A noise like a growl escaped from Ewrkind’s throat. “Trust me when I say my people are not untrained, any more than their grandparents were when they cut through thousands of your grandparents while sustaining barely one hundred casualties.”

Lily cringed. The last thing either side needed right now was bravado.

But then Prince Christopher surprised her.

“Ewrkind, you are a strong negotiator, and I appreciate that. I can see the logic in your proposal. If you can provide five hundred troops rather than three hundred, I will, on behalf of the Royal Crown, accept your proposal.”

Ewrkind glanced at Gabel, and the elf gave him the slightest of nods.

A wide smile spread across Ewrkind’s face. “That can be arranged. I will bring you five hundred elves. We will fight for you, and, by God, they will write songs about our battles. After the war is won, my people will be free.”

He held out his hand. After only a moment’s pause, the prince shook it.

Lily felt a strange combination of giddiness and dread. For the first time in more than a generation, the elves were going to war.

CHAPTER THREE

Zane let go of the wall and dropped the last five feet, landing softly in the grass below. He crouched down for a moment listening for any sounds of movement, any sign he’d been spotted. He heard nothing, and he couldn’t see much in the dim moonlight. Usually, that would be a comfort—if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see him, after all. Tonight it was more unsettling. He knew from experience that the Oasis had an elf, and elves could see in the dark.

He’d taken a detour on his way to the southern city of Harken and stopped at the Oasis near Barnes. It was as close as he dared venture to his old city. It would have been nice to retrieve his fortune, but he couldn’t risk it. The Pruits would certainly have his home watched, though he doubted they expected him to actually show up there.

Zane had been in the Oasis, a permanent retreat for elderly abditus, only once before. He had discovered its existence while trying to locate the famed abditus Irving Farns. No, he suddenly remembered, that wasn’t right. It had been Lily who’d learned about this place. It had been her first real success in getting information from a source. She’d been so awkward in social situations back then. The memory made him smile. While interrogating Farns’ former partner here, Zane had made another discovery: Rebecca Waters, his old abditus mentor and the woman whose mind Jacob Von Ridden had wiped of all memories, was also residing here. Zane had visited her briefly, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do much more than say hello. She hadn’t recognized him, of course, and it was too painful to see the once precise and intelligent woman in her current state, a state he’d played a part in causing.

But now, even though time was of the essence, he felt he had to see her again. Perhaps it was selfish, an act designed only to make himself feel better. She wouldn’t know he was there, after all. And so what if it was selfish? He had no illusions about what was going to happen in Harken. He was walking into a trap set for him by Caleb Longstrain. Between Caleb and the Pruits, Zane knew there was very little chance he would survive. But he also believed Caleb truly cared for Lily, in his own twisted way, and that she very likely was in danger. Zane had to go, he had to do anything he could to help her, and so what if he wanted to perform this one selfish act on the route to his death?

He crept through the grass, staying close to the wall. He remembered the layout of this place. He had a mental image of the route he needed to take, and he was confident he’d be able to find Rebecca Waters’ quarters.

He reached the door marked 117 and took a deep breath. He was surprised to find it unlocked. He slipped inside and another surprise hit him: someone was softly singing.

For a moment, he thought it was Rebecca, but the voice was coming from a rocking chair in the corner next to a small lamp. There was enough light to see someone in the bed on the other side of the room, most likely Rebecca. He briefly considered aborting the mission because of this mysterious third party, but he’d come too far to do that.

The woman in the chair apparently hadn’t noticed him enter. She was still singing softly as she rocked back and forth, eyes closed. Zane said in a low but confident voice, “Don’t move and don’t scream and I will not hurt you.”

The woman in the chair drew in a sharp breath, but she didn’t scream.

“Who are you and what are you doing in Miss Waters’ room?” Zane asked.

“My name’s Phyllis Graze,” the woman said. “Rebecca gets out of sorts some nights. I sit with her. The singing seems to calm her.”

Graze. Zane had once had a client named Albert Graze. He wondered if this woman was Albert’s mother. Since she was here, she must have been an abditus, like her son and husband.

A soft voice came from the bed. “Lane. Stain. Main. Plain.”

“Shh,” Phyllis said in a soothing voice. “It’s all right, dear.”

The lamp cast enough light for Zane to see his way around the room, but not enough that he could be confident the old abditus woman wasn’t holding a thorn. He’d have to risk it. He went to the side of the bed and looked down at his old mentor.

She’d been a beautiful woman when Zane had known her nearly twenty years ago, and remnants of that beauty still clung to her face.  But she wore those twenty years hard. That didn’t surprise Zane. Twenty years spent in this place, confused and alone, couldn’t have been easy.

Rebecca looked up at him, a light smile on her face. “Rain. Drain. The pain…” She trailed off for a moment, then her smile widened. “Zane. Zane the pain.”

Zane nearly gasped. “Yes! That’s right. I’m Zane. It’s so good to see you, Rebecca.”

She looked away. “Rug. Dug. Smug. Drug. Plug.”

Zane turned to the woman in the chair. “She remembered me. How is that possible? She was hit with a Walling’s Razor.”

“Yes, she was,” the woman said. “Common misconception about Walling’s Razors. They don’t wipe out your memory. It’s still in there somewhere. It just makes your thoughts slippery, so you can’t hold onto them for more than a moment. You can see it in her eyes sometimes. Every once in a while, she remembers who she was, what her life was like before she was hit with that thorn, and her eyes fill with horror. It’s not the forgetting that’s the difficult thing for her. It’s the occasional remembering.”

Zane’s blood went cold. He’d often thought about Rebecca and about what it must be like for her to be in constant confusion, but he’d never considered the other side of it, the terrible moments of lucidity.

He reached toward her.

“Careful!” Phyllis said.

“I was just going to hold her hand.”

“Best make sure she’s doesn’t have anything. She loves making little sharp objects out of anything at hand—quills, bits of wood, whatever—and hiding them where people are sure to get stuck by them. She forgets where she hid them, probably forgets she ever made them, but how she laughs every time someone gets stuck. The more they bleed, the louder she cackles. I believe this one has a good heart, but there’s no denying she’s got a mean streak, too.”

“Indeed,” Zane said. He had felt her mean streak in the form of the backside of her hand or the slap of her belt plenty of times. He’d been old enough that he could have stopped her, but that would have ended his apprenticeship and he’d badly wanted to be an abditus in those days.

“I wish I knew what she’d like been before all this,” Phyllis said. “I’ll bet she was a thornswoman.”

“Aye,” Zane said. “She was. And a good one, too.”

He carefully took Rebecca’s hand, doing it slowly and making sure the hand was empty. It was, and it felt warm and small. She giggled and squeezed his hand.

“I don’t know how much of this you can understand,” Zane said, “but I’m going to say it anyway. You always did your best for me, even though you were harsh at times. I don’t fault you for that. That was your way, and probably the way of your own mentor before you. You did your best to prepare me and protect me.” He took a deep breath. “I wanted to say, I’m sorry. I should have protected you. I should have protected myself. I shouldn’t have gotten caught up in Jacob’s scheme.”

She giggled again. “Jacob…Jacob is kiddin’. Jacob gone skiddin’. Jacob things hidden.” Her face suddenly became serious. “Jacob Von Ridden.”

Zane squeezed her hand. “Yes.”

“Poor thing loves to rhyme,” Phyllis said. “I think it’s her way of organizing her thoughts. Most of it’s nonsense, but I get the feeling the more she rhymes, the harder she’s trying to hold onto her thoughts.”

“My lung,” Rebecca said. She was talking faster now. “Red tongue. Old dung. So young when he met with them. Mire. Fire. He went to the spire to conspire. He raised my ire, the dirty liar! The Crags! The slags! Old bags! Dressed in rags! He swore to thee, but never to me! He refused to flee!”

She gripped Zane’s hand hard and stared at him, her eyes alive and her gaze fierce. “He said he’d try. They made him lie. Now all will die. The war is nigh.”

Suddenly Phyllis put a calming hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. Zane hadn’t seen her get up. He’d been too focused on Rebecca and her ranting. “Hush, dear. It’s all right. Old Phyllis is here.”

Rebecca turned toward Phyllis and her expression changed. A haze once again entered her eyes, and she giggled. “Old lady. Must be eighty. Blood and bones in a sack of skin. That’s where you end and begin.” She cackled wildly at that.

Phyllis looked at Zane with concern. “Step outside with me.”

Zane paused, then nodded.

When they were outside in the cool darkness, Phyllis said, “I’ve never seen her like that. She seemed to have clarity, but she was so upset. Apparently you’ve brought back some memories, none of them too pleasant. The way I understand it, she’ll have lost the memories by now, but the upset feelings will remain. What I’m saying is you aren’t doing her any favors by dredging up the past.”

Zane nodded. He understood, but he was still surprised by the way Rebecca had responded. “It seemed like she was trying to tell me something.”

Phyllis sighed. “One thing you have to know about her is she believes her fantasies and her occasional real memories with equal passion. We’ll never know what’s real and what’s only in her mind.”

“Perhaps if I could talk to her for another moment—”

“I won’t allow it,” Phyllis said. “You snuck your way in here, which means you’re a man who knows a bit about the clandestine. But hear me now. If you bother that poor woman again, I’ll raise the alarm, and you’ll have to kill me to stop me. If hearing the ranting of a delusional old abditus is worth my life, then so be it. Otherwise, I’ll ask you to leave.”

Zane considered that for only a moment. If Albert Graze had half the backbone this woman did, he might have never stooped to hiring Zane to kill his rival Irving Farns.

After a moment, Zane said, “I understand. Take good care of her.”

“I always do,” the woman said. She turned and went back inside, leaving Zane alone in the darkness.

Zane wasn’t sure if he’d gotten what he’d wanted to out of the encounter. He’d come here to apologize. He’d done that, but he didn’t feel especially relieved. He simply felt cold.

He made his way to the wall surrounding the Oasis and climbed to the top, being careful to avoid the tangles nestled in its surface. He stood up and turned to take one last look at the Oasis, the home to his old mentor. As he did, something whizzed past his cheek, and it landed on the stone path on top of the wall with a clang that spoke of metal.

Instantly, Zane dropped to his stomach, flattening against the ground. He silently cursed. He didn’t know where his assailant was located, so he could be making himself an easier target by lying motionless.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to consider the situation. That was a throwing knife that had flown past him. A throwing knife was a short-ranged weapon, which meant his attacker was on this wall, to his left.

He crawled to his right, moving as quickly as he could while staying low. There was a small building up ahead, probably a guard station. Hopefully an unmanned one.

Or maybe not. No guard Zane had ever encountered used throwing knives. This was someone else. A sinking feeling crept into Zane’s stomach as he realized who it was.

He saw the dark shape near the edge of the wall just in time. He rolled quickly to his left and got his feet under him. He stayed in a crouch while drawing his sword.

It was smart, Zane had to give them that. One of them throwing knives from one direction, chasing him into the waiting blade of a swordsman. Or, in this case, swordswoman. The dark shape to Zane’s right had to be Julia Pruit. And that frightened Zane.

It was widely acknowledged that Kipling had been the finest swordsman in Opel, but Julia Pruit was the finest swordsperson. She’d beaten Kipling enough that even he, prideful man that he was, was forced to admit it. And now Zane would be facing off with her. In the dark. On top of a twenty-foot wall. While knives were being thrown at him from behind.

He sighed. Best to get it over with quickly, whatever the outcome.

He gripped his sword and lunged forward, thrusting as he leapt. His entire weight was behind his thrust, but Julia batted his attack aside with a casual flick of her wrist. Then she stabbed, and Zane felt the tip of her sword slice his neck. He’d turned just enough to avoid the sword running him through, but not enough to get out of the way completely. Hot blood ran down his neck and into his shirt.

He brought his sword up just in time, parrying her next blow, one that had been meant for his heart.

Julia Pruit wasn’t like any of the other great swordsmen he’d faced, Zane realized. She wasn’t out for sport like Faraday. She wasn’t out to prove she was better than him like Caleb Longstrain. Julia simply wanted to kill him so she could get on with her evening.

Zane tried another attack, and she parried. He attacked again, using a classic form, trying to get her to engage in some swordplay. If she would only fight like a sensible person, he might be able to regain some momentum. No such luck. She twisted away from his sword and dove forward in another attempt at a killing blow. This one sliced into Zane’s left arm.

And suddenly, Julia froze. A deep voice behind her said, “Don’t move. Either of you.”

Zane recognized that voice. It was the elf, the one who’d caught him and Lily on their first visit to the Oasis. Zane could just see the elf’s outline in the darkness, but from the way Julia abruptly stopped moving, it was safe to assume the elf was holding a sword or a knife to her back.

Zane had never been so happy to be caught breaking in anywhere.

“There’s another one,” Zane said, quickly. “Behind me. He’s an expert with throwing knives.”

A low, considered murmur came from the elf’s throat. “And that is supposed to frighten me?”

“Not at all,” Zane said. “As you may have noticed, this woman was trying to kill me. Her husband was very likely about to move in to finish the job.” Not that she needed the help, Zane didn’t add.

“Three intruders, then.” The fury was clear in the elf’s voice. “You come bringing violence to this place of peace? Why? Our elderly residents have come here to escape the world of violence in their final years. Why bring it to them? What danger could these elderly abditus possibly represent to you?”

Suddenly, Julia was in motion. She spun, dropping to one knee. She stabbed upward, and Zane heard a soft cry of pain as her sword slid into the elf’s chest. Just as quickly, she spun back around, sword raised, ready to engage Zane once again. She didn’t waver. She must have been supremely confident the elf was dead.

Zane heard something behind him. Footsteps approaching. Julia’s husband, Tomas. Those footsteps sent a chill through Zane, not because the man was approaching, but because he wasn’t bothering to muffle the sound of his approach. He wasn’t sneaking up on Zane, just coming to assist in finishing the job. Zane’s mind spun, trying to think of something, anything, to save himself.

He wasn’t going to win this fight, not by skill or luck or guile. There was only one other option left. He wasn’t positive of their exact position, but there were some shrubs around the base of the wall. If he was wrong, or even if he was right and he landed incorrectly and broke a leg, the Pruits would climb down and kill him. Still, it was his only possible escape. He had to try.

He dashed to the edge and jumped off the wall.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Fascinating,” Ewrkind said, for about the twentieth time that morning.

Lily suppressed a smile.

They’d been traveling for five days now. The elves were doing their best to remain the stoic warriors they felt they should be, Ewrkind chief among them, but they weren’t entirely successful in hiding their surprise and wonder at the way things worked in the world beyond the Blue Wall. It had started immediately, as they tried to mask their glee, excitement, and nervousness as they passed through the Blue Wall’s gate and into the city of Barnes proper for the first time. It continued as they moved through Barnes, passing crowds of wide-eyed, gap-mouthed humans who’d gathered to watch this strange procession of elves. For the first time in these elves’ lives, they were seeing a large group of humans together. Some responded with wonder at the variety in the humans’ physical appearances. Some responded in barely restrained anger at the sight of their long-time captors. But Ewrkind simply responded with, “Fascinating.”

The elves reacted with even more wonder as they exited the city and began to travel through the countryside. Some of them were clearly moved by many of the things Lily took for granted. Their first view of the grassy, rolling hills that stretched as far as the eye could see. Their first crossing of the mighty Harken River. And the forest! When they’d come across their first forest, in reality just a small patch of woods, the elves had struggled to contain their emotions. Their people had lived in forests, forests much grander than these, for centuries. Whether they were responding to it because they knew forests were their ancestral home or because of something else, some deeper primal connection to the woods, Lily did not know.

It was very strange to see adults, even adult elves, experience nature for the first time. The guilt was a cold ball in Lily’s stomach as she remembered Ewrkind’s angry words during the negotiation in his home. He was right. She could have worked to help free to elves, but she’d done nothing.

“It’s endlessly fascinating,” Ewrkind said as he rode alongside her. For the most part, he’d been quiet on this journey. Whether it was the weight of leading his people into battle or simply that he was overwhelmed at the outside world, Lily did not know. She suspected it was a combination of both.

“What’s fascinating?” she asked.

Ewrkind gestured to the forest alongside the road. “Things out here. The world. It’s not like I imagined.”

“How so?”

Ewrkind paused for a long time before answering. “I thought it would be…crowded. I spent my life behind the Blue Wall, and I knew that wasn’t fair. I knew we should be allowed to live free. But I thought you’d locked us up because there wasn’t enough space for all of us. And now…I don’t understand. If your people were afraid of us, why not have us go somewhere else? There is nothing but somewhere elses! It’s endless!”

To that, Lily had no answer.

The elves traveled in tight packs, their horses riding close together as they must have when riding through the streets of the elvish ghetto. They kept to themselves, rarely speaking to Lily or the other humans.

Prince Christopher, for his part, was quiet and somber. Lily wondered if the prince had overstepped his bounds, if he was wondering how his brother was going to react when he learned what had been promised, or if he was simply uncomfortable with being so outnumbered by members of a race his family had long imprisoned. A few days into their travels, Lily began to suspect it was something else. She’d spent a good amount of time in Prince Christopher’s presence during her apprenticeship at the palace, and she’d always seen him as a bit of a spoiled child. He’d been raised with privilege but, unlike his older brother, no expectation of responsibility. He’d been quick to snap at those beneath him, sometimes with impatience and sometimes to mask his own lack of confidence. It seemed the past few weeks were changing him. When he looked at the elves, there was worry in his eyes, but Lily didn’t think it was a concern for his physical safety. Lily suspected Prince Christopher might actually be concerned with the long-term ramifications of what they were doing here.

They reached the Opel camps by the edge of the Harken River on the evening of the fifth day, just before sunset. The guards on the perimeter camp reacted as Lily would have expected them to at seeing a small army of elves approaching: first with shock, then with hostility. Prince Christopher defused the situation by riding ahead and assuring them these were allies.

Prince Christopher rode back to Lily and Ewrkind. He looked at the leader of the elves. “Will you do me a favor? Have your elves wait here for a few hours.”

A low growl came from Ewrkind’s throat. “In a few hours it will be too dark to set up camp.”

“Then have them set up camp here,” the prince said, a hint of irritation in his voice. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Just for tonight. Look, most of these men in camp have never seen an elf before, let alone five hundred of them. We start parading through camp, they’re liable to think we’re under attack.”

Ewrkind’s eyes flashed with anger. “So you’d segregate us yet again.”

The prince put a hand on the elf’s arm. “It’s just for tonight,” he repeated. “Come, my friend. The king will be anxious to meet you.”

In the end, they decided to allow Ewrkind to bring one more elf with him. So, Prince Christopher and his guards, Lily, Ewrkind, and Gabel rode into camp.

Lily felt a cold chill run through her as they entered the camp and she got her first look at the soldiers. There were men with terrible burns on their faces. Men with pink-stained bandages covering the stumps at the ends of arms and legs where hands and feet should have been. Injured men laying on the ground, bodies covered with thin blankets, apparently unattended. For every apparently healthy man, she saw at least two who were not. But all of them, even the abditus who were rushing from person to person applying balms, stopped what they were doing to watch the elves pass. They were so shocked most of them forgot to salute their passing prince. Prince Christopher didn’t seem to notice. His face was ashen and his eyes were narrow as he observed the decimation around them.

“My God,” Ewrkind said in a low voice. “So this is war.”

When they reached the king’s tent, a canvas structure approximately the size of a small house in the part of the world Lily came from, a member of the King’s Guard quickly waved Lily, Ewrkind, and the prince inside. Gabel would have to wait outside.

King Edward sat in a large chair at the head of a huge square table. Jacob Von Ridden sat across from him. There was a third man at the table, one Lily had only met a few times. Brewner, general of the Opelean Army. A large map was spread on the table in front of them. All three men looked exhausted. They looked thinner, too, if that was possible after only two weeks.

The king greeted his brother and Lily, and they introduced Ewrkind. Lily had coached Ewrkind on royal etiquette, but the elf did only the bare minimum to avoid outright treason, bowing slightly and muttering a barely audible, “Your Majesty.”

The king had chairs brought in for the newcomers. When they were all seated, he said, “Jacob, brief them on the situation.”

Jacob paused only a moment, glancing at Lily, before beginning. “To be blunt, things are not going well. Tavel’s ground force is superior to our own.”

“Arguable,” General Brewner said.

Jacob ignored the comment and continued, “Yet we were holding our position and minimizing our casualties. Until yesterday when we first faced the Craggish.”

Lily grimaced.

“We had the high ground,” the general said. His voice, usually proud and articulate with a military clip, sounded hesitant. “It should have been enough. I’ve been a military man for twenty years, and it should have been enough, I tell you.”

The king nodded toward Jacob.

Jacob said, “We saw the Tavel forces marching toward us up the hill, a thin line of Craggish in front of them, and we thought the victory would be an easy one. The Craggish are fierce warriors, we knew, but they were spread so thin. If we could cut through that front line, we could have our way with the Tavellers. So we attacked, sending arrows and Cull Flames down toward them. The Taveller abditus deflected some of it with their tangles, but much of it managed to get through. Then came the counter attack.”

Jacob paused and glanced over at the general as if he wasn’t sure how much to say.

“Oh, just tell it, damn you!” the general said, waving a hand at Jacob in frustration. “Don’t leave anything out for my sake.”

Jacob turned back toward the new arrivals. “The Craggish were abditus, it turned out. They shot fireballs at us, larger than the kind produced by a Cull Flame. We had a double detail of our own abditus up front with our most powerful tangles, because of what Lily had told us about the strength of Craggish thorns. The fireballs burned through our tangles like they weren’t even there.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” the general said. “Irving Farns himself couldn’t have devised a tangle to stop the hellfire they unleashed on us. We lost half our best abditus in one wave. Then the real attack began.” He paused and shuddered at the memory. “There were more Craggish mixed in with the Taveller troops, and they quickly made their presence known. Only one in ten of our enemies were Craggish, but they seemed to land half the blows.”

Jacob said, “Our men fought bravely, but…”

“Be honest,” the general said. “It was a bloodbath. And that was even before that damn turncoat showed up and targeted our best soldiers.”

Lily felt a sudden lump of ice in her stomach. That damn turncoat. He could only mean Caleb. Lily knew the general was sensitive about the situation with Caleb; he had come up through the general’s army, after all.

“Longstrain,” the king muttered. “His continued existence is an embarrassment to our nation. Even when he’s not battling his former brothers-in-arms.”

“And yet you sent your best assassins after Zane Halloway.” The words were out of Lily’s mouth before she could stop them.

“Lily, please,” Jacob said.

The king’s eyes flashed with anger. “If not for Zane, those Craggish would be raining down fire on the Tavellers’ heads rather than ours.”

That wasn’t true, Lily knew. The High Prince of the Crags had said he was planning to remain neutral before Zane’s supposed assassination attempt against him. Saying that probably wouldn’t help her case, though.

“Many pardons, Your Majesty,” she said.

The king waved away the apology. “Regardless, we lost nearly a quarter of our men in a single battle, and we lost valuable high ground when we had to fall back. The question now is what we are going to do about it.”

A small growl escaped Ewrkind’s throat before he spoke. “What do we do, Your Majesty? We retake the high ground and we kill these Craggish abditus.”

CHAPTER FIVE

It had been six days since Zane’s unfortunate encounter with the Pruits on the wall of the Oasis. He’d spent much of the time since wondering how they could have known he’d go to see his old abditus mentor, how they even knew of the existence of the Oasis. Had they followed him there? It was possible but didn’t seem likely. Otherwise, why not kill him sooner, like when he was climbing the wall? He would have made an easy enough target. No, Zane believed they’d been waiting for him at the Oasis.

He’d looked over his shoulder a lot over the last six days. He’d doubled back on his trail, rushed ahead and lain in wait, crossed rivers multiple times…in short, he’d used all his tricks to lose a trail. He hadn’t seen any pursuers, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. That was the thing about the Pruits; they could make even Zane Halloway paranoid.

This, Zane realized, was how it felt to be hunted. This was how his victims must have felt, the ones who knew he was coming but could do nothing to stop him.

It was also very likely that the Pruits knew his destination and were waiting for him there, which was part of why he was being so cautious.

He grimaced and rolled his left shoulder back and forth. It was still tender, but he was able to move it in a complete circle. That was an improvement. Miraculously, it was the only part of him that was injured in his jump from the wall. He’d hit the bushes and rolled, coming down too hard on his shoulder. But nothing was broken. He’d been lucky.

Zane frowned at the thought. This was what he’d been reduced to, merely surviving because of luck.

He’d spent much of the day observing the Opelean camp outside the city of Harken, and he’d been gratified to see hundreds of elves camped on the north end. Lily had come through in securing the only ally who could possibly stand a chance against the Craggish. He briefly wondered what might have happened if he hadn’t interfered in Sicar, if he’d just let her do her official duty and not taken the job with Nicholas. Maybe Lily would have succeeded in securing that ally as well.

He pushed the thought away. It was too close to self-pity, and he didn’t have the luxury of self-pity.

At nightfall, Zane had headed south, moving around Harken and toward the Tavel and Craggish camps. He was surprised at how far the enemy had pushed into Opelean territory, though he probably shouldn’t have been, after seeing all the injured soldiers in the Opel camps.

Now Zane watched from the darkness on the top of a small embankment. He’d been watching for two hours, and he’d learned much. He was finally ready to make his move.

The Craggish soldiers were clearly experienced in guarding against intruders. Zane remembered something Nicholas had told him back in Sicar: the most valuable spices in the Crags grew only at extreme altitudes, and the farms that were elevated enough to grow these spices were valuable territory, constantly under attack from rival farms. Perhaps that was what gave these Craggish their experience in protecting against intruders. Whatever the reason, they knew what they were doing. They stood in the shadows, their faces turned away from the light, looking out into the darkness. In general, they kept as far away from the torches as they could, knowing the fires would only illuminate a small area at the cost of blinding them to the larger surroundings. They also cycled new, fresh guards in every hour. Zane’s chances of catching any of these guards drowsy at their stations were slim.

Still, all was not lost. The Craggish might have been trained to spot intruders at the spice farms, but Zane was a master of working the Opel terrain to his advantage, and he dipped and bobbed forward, zig-zagging closer and closer to the camp. Once he reached the perimeter, it was easy to slip through a gap in the coverage. Quick as that, Zane was in the Craggish camp.

After that, blending in was a simple enough exercise. He wore an oversized coat with a large hood pulled over his head. He stood up straight and exaggerated his movement just enough to give off the persona of a larger frame. He then used his best trick, the one that had allowed him to pass unnoticed in a hundred areas where he shouldn’t have been: he walked confidently and with purpose, like a man who knew where he was going and who had every right to be there. Whether they took him to be Craggish or a Taveller Zane did not know, but no one stopped him.

Zane moved toward the center of the camp and quickly spotted the tent he was looking for. It was larger than the others around it, and it was guarded by three large Cragsmen. They didn’t appear to be the type likely to fall asleep on the job, either. But the thing about tents was they were made of canvas, which meant there were other ways in.

Zane found a seam in the rear of the tent and carefully worked the tip of his knife into it, moving slowly so as not to make any more noise than was absolutely necessary. It took him ten minutes to open a gap large enough to fit through. He slipped inside. Hopefully, any passersby wouldn’t notice it the cut seam.

Zane stood perfectly still, letting his eyes adjust to the deeper darkness and listening for any clues to his surroundings. He could tell from the rhythmic breathing that the bed was to his right and that occupant was asleep. He moved toward the sleeping figure. Even in the darkness, he could see the thing he’d come to steal. He took a deep, slow breath and took it. The sleeping Cragsman didn’t even stir.

Zane was out of the tent in less than a minute.

He walked the camp for another hour. The stars were bright and the air had a cool crispness that was uncommon this far south, even at night. Sound carried well in the camp, and various noises came to him, people snoring, people arguing, people loving. He was surprised by the variety of age and gender, though he probably shouldn’t have been. All Craggish were warriors, man and woman alike. He guessed the ages ranged from as young as fourteen to as old as sixty. He imagined multiple generations of the same family standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the battlefield. For some reason, the thought sent a chill running through him.

Zane didn’t have a purpose for being in the camp beyond what he’d already accomplished, but he enjoyed the feeling of walking through the camp, unseen among his nation’s enemies. The constant attention it required, the vigilance. It simplified things. Still, thoughts about the hopelessness of his situation crept into his mind.

He was alone. That was the biggest takeaway. His king wanted him dead. He had two of the finest killers in the world on his trail. If he had any sense, he would be turning himself into the Tavel leaders, not infiltrating the Craggish camps. They would accept him and use his talents, he was sure of it. But he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t betray his nation even if his nation had turned on him. He hadn’t sunk that low.

There was one more thing he needed to do before he left. He went and stood near a fire. A Cragsman Zane recognized stood across from him. He distinctly remembered the Cragsman dropping a stone on him when he’d been pressed. Making sure the Cragsman was watching him, Zane reached up and lowered his hood. The Cragsman’s eyes widened, and Zane knew the man recognized him.

Zane stepped back out of the firelight and into the darkness. He’d been seen. The job was done.

It was time to return. He could hide out in Harken for the rest of the night before returning to the Opelean camp in the morning. He’d done what he’d come here to do: he’d stolen himself a slim chance at survival.

CHAPTER SIX

Early the next morning, Jacob called Lily into his tent. It wasn’t a canvas mansion like the king’s, but it was larger than the tents that held ten soldiers each and the tent Lily was sharing with four other abditus apprentices.

Jacob motioned for her to sit across from him at the small table. She was reminded of his room in the castle with its massive oak desk and how many times he’d reprimanded her in that room.

Her mentor looked tired; there were dark circles around his eyes and he hunched in his seat.

“How are you?” Lily wasn’t sure if she’d ever before asked him that question.

“I was up half the night with Ewrkind, Prince Christopher, and the king. For someone who’s never seen a battle, that elf certainly has a lot of ideas about how he and his troops should be used. And the way he talks to the king! What’s more, the king lets him. I told the king not to look the elf in the eye, so I know he’s not using his elvish influence. There’s something about Ewrkind, the way he carries himself.”

Lily nodded. She’d noticed the same thing. He was a natural-born leader.

“How did the king take it when he found out what we’d promised Ewrkind?”

“He was furious,” Jacob said. “He yelled at his brother for half an hour after the elf left. But he’ll honor the agreement. He needs Ewrkind’s troops. Besides, he’s never seemed too comfortable with keeping the elves in the ghettos. That was his grandfather’s idea. But the king is good at putting things out his mind when he’s not comfortable thinking about him. Unfortunately, it usually falls to me to remind him, especially with the position of King’s Sword still vacant.”

“Why is that?” Lily asked. “Why hasn’t he named anyone King’s Sword?”

Jacob shrugged. “He’s been a bit busy and there’s no clear choice among the King’s Guard. Caleb didn’t bother naming a replacement, not that the king would have honored that traitor’s wishes. Still, this is war. Someone will distinguish himself and the king will take a liking to him. It’ll happen. I just hope it happens soon. Being the king’s sole advisor is no easy task.”

He stared off into space for a moment, and Lily didn’t interrupt his thoughts.

“I’ll tell you,” Jacob said, finally, “I used to dream of power. Now I have all the power I ever wanted, the power to affect wars and nations, and I’m not sure it’s worth the price I paid to get it. This thing, this position I hold, it’s not the glorious honor I thought it would be. It’s a burden, plain and simple. When so many people are counting on you…well, it wears you down. You’ll see that soon enough for yourself.”

Lily raised an eyebrow at that. As much as she’d come to respect Jacob over the past two years, she knew that he still lusted after power in the way some men lusted after women. Specifically, power he needed to fight to acquire. Power that was just out of his grasp. Lily thought of the Nettle, the Farns-made thorn Zane had given her. She’d never told Jacob about the thorn, but she sometimes suspected he knew she had it anyway. There were some magics he kept from her, and one of those might be able to detect the presence of a powerful thorn. If he did know the Nettle existed, he’d one day try to take it from her, apprentice or not. She had long considered and planned for that possibility.

Jacob sat up in his seat a little and leaned forward. “Ewrkind has asked that you be stationed with his troops. The king agrees. He wants you to act as a sort of liaison between the Opeleans and the elves.”

“Why? Why me, I mean?”

Jacob smiled. “For some reason, that elf likes you. And he doesn’t seem to like anyone, so that’s saying something. I don’t know what happened the first time you met him, but he respects you. And the king…the king does, too. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but His Majesty wants people who take the initiative and can think on their feet. And you certainly fit that description, for good or ill.”

What would this mean? For her and for the war? “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jacob said. “This is a big opportunity. If you perform well here, assuming we survive the war, your king will not forget your service.” He paused for a moment. “What do you want for yourself, Lily? After all this, after the war, what will you do with your life?”

The question caught her off guard. She suddenly realized she had no idea what she wanted. She’d thought she’d known, once. She’d wanted to be a ferox, like Zane. Maybe even an assassin. She’d pictured herself righting wrongs, defending the weak, killing those who deserved it. Despite Zane’s warnings about not thinking what they did was good, she’d held on to that fantasy for a long time.

But over the past few years, she hadn’t had time to come up with a new plan for her life. It was all about surviving the next crisis, overcoming the next seemingly insurmountable obstacle. She hadn’t thought about the future much because she’d never been sure there would be one.

Now, in the heart of a war they were losing so badly, seemed like a very odd time to be asking.

Jacob said, “You should think about it. Being able to choose your future is a rare luxury. Not even the king had that privilege. You undoubtedly have potential, Lily. You could rise to the top of our profession, perhaps be the head of the Abditus Society someday, if that’s the path you choose. Or, maybe you want to go into business selling your glides. Maybe you want to follow in my path and advise kings, help shape nations. But you need to think about it, or you will find yourself on a path you didn’t choose and you’ll discover it’s too late to change your course.”

“Abditus Von Ridden.” The voice came from the flap of the tent.

Jacob quickly stood, and he motioned for Lily to do the same. “Abditus Worring, please, come in.”

A tall, gaunt man stepped into the tent. Lily vaguely remembered seeing him around the Academy, but she didn’t recall his role. Perhaps he didn’t something for the Society? The head of one of their various departments, maybe? The Society had so many it was impossible to keep track.

Worring nodded to Lily. “Miss Rhodes, it’s a pleasure.”

Lily gave him a bow in return. “The pleasure’s mine, Abditus Worring.”

Jacob motioned toward the table. “Shall we sit?”

When they were seated, Abditus Worring said, “Jacob tells me you make glides.”

“Among other things,” Lily said. “I dabble with tangles, too. And sometimes shimmers. But glides are my focus.”

“May I see one?”

Lily glanced at Jacob and he gave her a subtle nod. She pulled the knife out of her boot and handed it to him.

“Hmmm,” Worring said, turning the knife this way and that. He raised the knife as if he was going to throw it at the ground, then stopped, changed the angle of his wrist, and then threw it straight up. As the knife fell back down, he opened his hand, and the knife stopped, hovering an inch above his palm.

“Elegant design,” he said. Before Lily could respond, Worring grabbed the knife handle and swung the knife at Lily’s face. It stopped an inch away as if it had struck stone. “A knife that can’t be used to cause harm unless you know the exact angle at which to hold it. Interesting, if a bit impractical. An abditus could, of course, get around it if he were clever enough to figure out the trick.”

He turn the knife just so and the resistance holding it away from Lily disappeared. Worring touched the tip of the knife to her cheek.

“As I said, not exactly practical.”

She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to respond. She was tempted to show him her sword. The way it floated, flew, and came back to her. But she hadn’t even shown that to Jacob yet. Besides, who was this man to criticize her work? Even if he was some Abditus Society bureaucrat.

Worring pulled out a small object, something with a thin, sharp blade on one end and a blunt, spoon-shaped tool on the other end. The two halves were joined with a metal ring. Jacob had one of these, and Lily had seen him working with it sometimes. It seemed much more elegant than the tools she used to work on her devices, but he never let her use it. “Learn to work with what you have,” he always said, a phrase that angered Lily like few others.

Worring poked the sharp end of the tool between the blade and the handle, working it back and forth until he’d made a small gap.

Lily sat up straighter in he chair. What the hell was he doing with her glide? She opened her mouth, but Jacob put a gentle hand over hers. She looked at him, and he gave his head a quick shake. Lily snapped her mouth shut.

Worring flipped over his tool and worked the spoon-shaped end into the gap. He then gave it a sharp pull, and the handle popped free, the two sides falling to the table. It was a full-tang knife, meaning the blade ran all the way through the handle. It looked sad, lying there naked. The abditus picked up one side of the handle, somehow knowing exactly where to find the glide. He poked at it with the sharp end of his tool.

He suddenly looked up. “Oh dear. It seems I’ve broken it.” He set down the handle and slid it across the table. “Fix it.”

What was this? Lily glanced at Jacob, but his eyes revealed nothing. Something about this whole thing, about Worring and Jacob’s somber demeanors, made this whole thing feel…significant.

She picked up Worring’s tool with a shaky hand and used it to inspect the small, cylindrical glide she’d hidden in the knife’s handle. At first, she didn’t see anything wrong with it. It looked exactly as it had the last time she’d seen it. Then, a moment later, she saw it. Worring had moved the bottom of the glide ever-so-slightly off center. That imbalance could cause disastrous results.

She worked at the bottom of the glide for a moment. When she thought she had it balanced, she gently tossed the handle into the air. It spun perfectly, up until the last moment when the bottom side fluttered almost imperceptibly as it settled into her hand. She almost ignored the imperfection. But that imperfection would be magnified once it had a blade attached to it.

Picking up the tool, she made one more tiny adjustment. She tested again, and it landed flawlessly. Satisfied, she gave the handle and the tool back to Worring.

Without a word, he went back to work on the glide. This time, she heard a scraping sound. He slid her the handle and the tool. “Fix it.”

A quick look showed her that this time he’d wedged the glide too deep into the handle. That would affect the speed at which it flew. The way he had it set now, this knife would practically move in slow motion. It took her three tries with the tool before she got it reset to the proper depth.

She gave it back to him, and she was almost certain she heard a pleased grunt emerge from the stoic man as he inspected her work.

Pleased or not, he wasted no time before taking his tool to the glide once again. This time, she heard a high-pitched squeaking noise as he moved his tool back and forth.

When he gave it back to her the third time, she saw he’d done much more than move the glide out of place. He’d actually scraped a small divot in it, ruining its perfectly uniform shape. And with glides, shape was everything.

Her hands shook, not with nervousness now, but with rage.

“Fix it,” Worring said.

She looked up at him sharply. Fix it? It was ruined. “I’d need access to the abditus workshop. I’ll need a fire and—”

“Use what’s in this room,” Worring said. “Nothing more.”

She glanced at Jacob again, but, again, he was no help.

It was impossible. She couldn’t do what he was asking, not without the proper equipment. It was crazy to expect her to. And why did she care about pleasing this man anyway? She should be punching him in the face for destroying her creation.

But she knew why she was still listening to his instructions. Because this was a puzzle, and Lily loved solving puzzles. She always had. It was part of why she’d loved being a ferox apprentice. Finding a lost object, or even hunting down a target, was a puzzle of sorts. And now, from the way this man watched her expectantly and the carefully passive way Jacob looked on, she knew there was a solution. She just needed to find it.

Then it came to her. The tool. It wasn’t one solid piece of metal; it was two pieces joined together with a metal ring. Which meant they could be separated. Which also meant…

A slow smile crept across her face. She recognized the distinctive pattern on the metal ring. It was very similar to one she sometimes wore on her finger. She knew what she needed to do, but it would require precise work, maybe more precise than she was capable of doing.

She picked up the tool and snapped it in two. She then began to scrape at the spoon-shaped side of the tool with the sharp end.

It was slow work. Tiny flecks of metal would fall onto the table, and she’d carefully pick them up and press them into the divot in the glide. Then she took out the ring that had joined the two halves of the tool together. It wasn’t a simple piece of metal; it was a thorn. A heat thorn. After inserting each piece of metal into the divot, she held the thorn to the glide, hoping she was applying enough heat to cause the soft metals to melt together but not so much that she was warping the shape of the glide.

After ten applications, she was certain that she had it. The glide was back to its original shape and position. She fit the handle back onto the blade, securing it with a bit of string for now, and she tossed it into the air. She forced herself to relax so she’d look calmer than she felt as she held out her open palm. If she’d been off even a little in her repair, the knife could stab her in the hand when it fell.

But it didn’t. It stopped, hovering an inch above her hand, just as she’d designed it to. She stuck the knife back into her boot before Worring could think of another way to damage her invention.

Worring looked at her for a long moment, his eyes unreadable, then a wide smile broke out across his face. “Very good. Congratulations. You’ve passed your abditus placement exam.”

Lily blinked hard. “What?”

Jacob patted her on the back, his face beaming. “Welcome to the Abditus Society!”

That was her exam? If so, it was a very different experience from the Ferox Society’s test.

As if reading her thoughts, Jacob said, “It was no small thing you just did. Repairing a glide with only one tool and in such a short time? There are very few who can do that.”

Worring grunted his agreement.

“Why now? And why didn’t you tell me?” Lily asked Jacob.

“As to the timing, we couldn’t send an apprentice as our liaison to the elves. And, to your other question…I wanted to give you an extra challenge. I knew you could pass if I gave you time to prepare. But passing with no preparation…you’ve truly impressed me.”

“Indeed.” Worring nodded toward the tool on the table. “That’s yours to keep.” He turned to Jacob. “Shall we do the other part?”

Lily tensed, realizing that the exam wasn’t over. She knew it couldn’t be that easy. But what would happen next? Would she have to defend herself from thorns? She slipped her hand into her pocket and grabbed the tangle she kept there.

“Relax,” Jacob said. “He’s talking about your vows. It’s time to say your vows.” He chuckled. “I’m going to miss having you as an apprentice, Lily Rhodes, but I think I’m going to enjoy having you as a colleague. Now, it’s time for you to speak your vows and truly become a member of the Abditus Society.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was morning—that was the one thing Zane had going for him. They wouldn’t expect him in the morning.

As soon as he left the Harken inn where he’d spent the night, he felt a weight in the air, like he was being watched. It could have been the Pruits, but it could have just as easily been his paranoia. He was afraid of what he was about to do, of what he’d already done the previous night in the Craggish camp, not because of the consequences for himself, but for his nation. He was vain enough to think he could probably worm his way out of whatever situation he’d gotten himself into. He always had in the past, after all. But if his plan didn’t work the way he wanted, Opel could be in serious trouble. In the very near future, there might not even be an Opel. It was a lot to bet on his own plan. At some point, Zane knew, his hubris would hurt someone, just as Jacob’s hubris had hurt Rebecca Waters that night eighteen years before. He hoped his entire nation wouldn’t pay the price.

Still, he genuinely wanted to help with the war. He needed to stop Caleb Longstrain from hurting Lily. He also wanted the king to call off the Pruits. This was the only way he knew to accomplish all three goals.

He kept to the busiest streets as he walked through Harken. Not that the Pruits wouldn’t attack him with witnesses, but it could make them hesitate. More crowds meant possibly injuring a bystander which led to all sorts of complications. If they really were following him, and he was becoming more and more convinced they were, they would want to catch him alone, if possible. So the busy streets were his best bet.

Leaving town, there were many travelers following his same path toward the Opelean Army camps. Merchants were heading toward the camps, and soldiers were heading toward town, apparently wanting to spend their downtime in the city rather than in the crowded, smelly camp.

When he reached camp, he headed for the largest tent near the center, the tent that must have belonged to the king. He saw a cluster of the King’s Guards sitting around a fire, roasting a rabbit. Zane walked up to the Guard on the far right, a man who wore a red stripe on his sleeve that indicated his rank.

“Captain,” Zane said. “My name is Zane Halloway. I’m a wanted fugitive. Would you be so kind as to take me to the king so I may surrender to him?”

The captain looked up from the tiny bones on his tin plate. He was still chewing the rabbit, and his mouth was smeared with grease.

“A fugitive, you say?” he asked through the food. He looked annoyed. “The king doesn’t have time to see every scoundrel and deserter mucking around this camp, so if you want to surrender, it’ll have to be to me. I’ll throw you in the brig, if that’s what you want, after I finish my breakfast. What did you do, anyway?”

Zane said, “I killed the High Prince of the Crags and helped the new one take the throne. The king blames me for the Craggish declaring war on us.”

The captain stopped chewing. He set his plate down on the ground next to him.

Zane noticed the chatter had stopped and the eyes of every Guard in the group were on him.

The captain stood, brushing off his pants. He stared at Zane with the cautious gaze of someone looking at a madman. “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll put you in the brig, then I’ll get the king and bring him to you.”

Zane sighed. Why did even surrendering have to be so difficult? “I don’t think so. Take me to the king and I’ll surrender to him directly.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed. Sensing the tension, a few of his fellow Guards stood up and put their hands on their swords.

“First you disturb me during breakfast, and then you get disagreeable,” the captain said. He drew his sword and let the tip rest on the ground, just letting Zane know he had a weapon and would use it if necessary. “This isn’t a discussion. I’m taking you to the brig.”

Zane didn’t have time for this. He’d vainly assumed the King’s Guard would have heard of him. It seemed a demonstration was in order.

In one quick motion, he drew his sword and swung it, knocking the captain’s sword out of his hand. Zane had his sword back in his scabbard before most of the Guards knew what had happened.

The captain’s face reddened. “You’ve just assaulted a member of the King’s Guard.”

“Yes, I’m very naughty,” Zane said. “If you’d be so kind as to take me to the king, I’d be glad to face my punishment.”

The other Guards drew their swords. Zane felt the first prickle of sweat on his forehead. Five-on-one was never good odds, and against the King’s Guards? He wouldn’t have the element of surprise now. They no longer thought of him as just a crazy person. They’d seen how fast he was. He had to talk his way out of this fight.

“Captain, please accept my apologies, but you must understand it’s urgent that I see the king. I have important information that could help end this war.”

The captain picked up his sword, his gaze never leaving Zane. “If that’s true, we’ll make sure your information gets passed to the appropriate parties. But our job is to protect the king, and there’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near him.”

“I’m a ferox. You know Lily Rhodes, the Shadow’s apprentice? I’m her former mentor.”

A few of their eyes flashed with recognition at Lily’s name, but none of them lowered their weapons.

“Last chance,” the captain said. “Drop your weapon and we’ll talk. Otherwise, we show you how we treat people who strike King’s Guards.”

Zane had only a moment to consider how he was supposed to drop his weapon when he wasn’t holding one. Then a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Hells bells! Is that Zane Halloway?”

Zane turned and saw a familiar man approaching. He didn’t remember the Guard’s name, but he’d seen him on his visit to Langton two years before. It was the Guard who’d let Zane and Lily into the castle.

The captain’s eyes flickered toward the new arrival, but only for a moment. He wasn’t comfortable taking his eyes off Zane, apparently.

“You know him, Grady?” the captain asked.

“Of course! The king’s been hunting him for weeks.”

Ten minutes later, Zane was led into the king’s tent, surrounded by a healthy allotment of King’s Guards.

The king sat in a large chair behind a table. He stared at Zane, his eyes burning with barely contained rage.

“I’ve already sentenced you to death,” the king said. “Since the assassins haven’t done their job, my Guards will have to take care of it. You’re to be hanged within the hour. But first, I’m curious why you came here.”

Zane bowed his head. “I understand, Your Majesty. I wanted to show you something.” He reached into his pocket, and the Guards around him tensed.

“Slowly,” the king said.

“I paid a visit to the Craggish camp last night, Your Majesty,” Zane said. He raised his hand and showed the king what he’d taken.

“What is that?” the king asked, his eyes suddenly narrowed.

Zane had the feeling the king knew exactly what it was. “Just my contribution to the war effort. And the first step in a plan I believe can turn the tides in our favor. Your Majesty, will you allow me to explain?”

The king stared at the object in Zane’s hand for a long moment, then nodded.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lily finished speaking and closed her mouth, letting the silence hang in the air. She felt slightly lightheaded. She’d done it. She’d finished saying her vows, committing herself to the Abditus Society for life.

It was bittersweet. On the one hand, she hadn’t chosen this path because it was her passion. She’d been forced into it to protect Zane. On the other hand, there was no denying she was good at it. Jacob had seen something in her, and he hadn’t been wrong. More than that, she enjoyed it. She lost herself in the work when building glides, and the occasional tangle, in a way she never had with her ferox tasks. Although there were plenty of things she missed about that life, too.

All that didn’t matter now, not how she’d come to this nor whether it was her first choice. It was done. She’d said her vows. Lily was now and forever an abditus. The only question was what type of career she would choose. Of course, she had to survive the war first. And there had to be a nation left for her to live in.

Another thought struck her. She’d completed her apprenticeship. She’d fulfilled her obligation to Jacob. Which meant he was now required to destroy the evidence he had against Zane. She wondered if she should bring that up now or wait.

A King’s Guard entered the tent, disturbing her from her thoughts. “The king would see you.”

He was looking back and forth from Jacob to Lily.

“Me, too?” she asked.

The Guard nodded. “Both of you.”

Lily awkwardly shook Worring’s hand before leaving. She then followed Jacob toward the king’s tent.

“What do you think he wants?” Lily asked, although she could venture a guess. If it involved her, it was either something with the elves or…or, the assassins had succeeded in killing Zane and His Majesty wanted to share the good news.

“I don’t know,” Jacob muttered, but she had the feeling he too suspected the possible reasons. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

When Lily first met Jacob, she’d seen him as an adversary. It hadn’t helped that he’d killed Faraday and coerced her into service by threatening her mentor. But over time she’d come to…not like him, exactly. But she did respect him. And she felt she understood him. He was a lot like Zane in some ways. Zane would bend the rules as long as it got him to where he needed to be, as long as it served his version of the greater good. Jacob was an even more extreme example of that. He worked diligently for what he believed in, and he was willing to do terrible things if it was required. He had been a good mentor, and she’d always felt he was trying his best to help her succeed, even if his methods were sometimes strange.

Zane, on the other hand—

No, she didn’t want to think about Zane. About what news could be waiting for her inside the king’s tent.

They reached the tent and the two Guards stepped aside, allowing them to pass. Jacob went first, and, as he stepped inside, Lily heard him let out a soft gasp. A moment later, she saw why.

Zane Halloway stood in the tent, his hands bound in front of him, a King’s Guard on either side. He gave her a wry smile.

Ewrkind, General Brewner, and Prince Christopher were all present, and they all wore somber expressions.

She wanted to run over and hug Zane, but she didn’t think that would be well-received. Instead, as was protocol, she went to the king and bowed. “Your Majesty.”

Jacob did the same and, relieved of the burden of custom, everyone in the tent seemed to relax a little.

The king nodded toward Zane. “We caught him in camp an hour ago.”

Lily cocked her head. “He turned himself in, Your Majesty?”

The king shrugged. “He surrendered once he saw we had him surrounded. Who knows what kind of mischief he had planned before that.”

Lily allowed herself to relax a little. If Zane had been in camp, if he’d allowed himself to be seen in camp, he’d intended to turn himself in. That changed everything. That meant he had a plan. He was here for a purpose.

Or, a darker part of her suggested, maybe he was just tired of running. Maybe he really did want to die.

No, she wouldn’t allow herself to believe that.

“What of the assassins?” Jacob asked. “Kipling and the Pruits?”

“Kipling’s dead,” Zane said. “Killed him myself, the sadistic old bastard. The Pruits are still alive and hunting for me, to the best of my knowledge.”

The king’s smile faded into a mask of skepticism. He turned to Jacob. “Ferox Halloway says he wants to help with the war effort. He has a plan.”

Jacob’s face was unreadable. “Does he, Your Majesty?”

The king said, “Yes. After allowing my traitorous King’s Sword to escape. After attempting to kill the High Prince of the Crags, and then actually doing it. After participating in a scheme to win a new High Prince the throne, a High Prince not sympathetic to the Opelean cause.”

Zane hadn’t just participated in the scheme to win Nicholas the Craggish throne; it had been his idea. Lily wasn’t about to point that out now.

“After all that,” the king said, his voice growing louder and his face reddening, “now he wants to help. What’s more, he’s put his plan into action without consulting his king.”

Lily suppressed a smile. Now that sounded like Zane.

The king waved his hand toward the ferox. “Tell them.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Zane said. “The Craggish culture is such that personal offenses cannot go unanswered. Not repaying an insult would be seen as weakness, and weakness is death. So last night, I snuck into the Craggish camp and delivered an insult.” He glanced toward the king before continuing. “I went to the High Prince’s tent—”

“Wait,” Jacob said. “The Craggish High Prince? We weren’t even sure he was here. It makes sense that he’d accompany his troops into battle, but we wondered if he’d leave his country so soon after taking the throne.”

The king slammed his hand down on the table, and everyone fell silent. “What we did or didn’t know hardly matters. What matters is that Zane snuck into the tent of the High Prince and took this.” He held up what looked to be a foot long black rope.

Lily squinted at it, trying to identify it. Then her eyes widened as she realized what it was. She turned to Zane. “You cut off the High Prince’s hair?”

Zane nodded, his expression blank.

“How the hell did you manage that?” Jacob asked.

“It’s wasn’t as difficult as you’d think,” Zane said. “The Craggish are an overconfident people. All it took was the cover of darkness and a few minutes with a knife. He was sleeping.”

“And he didn’t wake up?” Jacob asked.

Zane shook his head.

Lily was barely listening. She was trying to work out the consequences of what Zane was telling him. Craggish men wore their hair in buns. Only those who lost one-on-one duels were required to cut them. Having this happen would be a huge embarrassment to any Cragsman, even more so to the High Prince. But to this High Prince, this man who had already been dishonored once when he’d lost a duel, it would be doubly embarrassing. Nicholas would be out for blood.

“I don’t understand,” Jacob said. “If you were in his tent, why not kill him?”

“Currently, we’re only facing a quarter of the Craggish Army,” Zane said. “If their High Prince dies in battle, so be it. The Craggish understand that is the price of war. But if we were to assassinate him in the night, that would be another matter. The Craggish would attack us with everything they had. Am I not correct, Prince Christopher?”

Lily saw what Zane was doing, subtly taking control of the conversation and calling on the second most powerful person in the room, a man who also happened to be a prince.

Prince Christopher didn’t seem to notice. “Your logic is sound.”

General Brewner growled. “Our course is clear. We hang Ferox Halloway. That lets the High Prince know Halloway wasn’t acting on our orders. We could even send an envoy to explain things, to let him know you already had ordered Halloway’s execution weeks before any of this.”

Jacob squeezed his eyes shut, as if what he was about to say pained him. “That’s not a good idea, Your Majesty.”

The king frowned. “Explain.”

It was Ewrkind who answered. “It makes you appear weak. As if you’d do anything to appease them. Executing the man who struck such a demoralizing blow sends the wrong message to both the Craggish High Prince and your own troops. It shows that you fear them. And once they know you fear them, they will press their advantage, attacking more aggressively than before.”

The king looked at his brother.

“The elf…is not wrong,” Prince Christopher said.

The king sighed. The room was silent as he rubbed at his chin. Finally, he looked up at Zane. “Ferox Halloway, you have succeeded in painting us into a corner. The way I understand it, that is your specialty. Killing you does not seem like the ideal option at the moment.” He raised a finger and pointed it at Zane. “But understand that this is only a temporary reprieve. When the war ends, so does your life.”

Zane bowed his head. “Of course, Your Majesty. Until then, I shall serve at your pleasure.”

King Edward scoffed. “My pleasure. My pleasure would be to see your head on a spike.” He scratched at the stubble on his cheek for a moment. “Well, Halloway, you’ve put us in this position. I assume you have some plan for exploiting it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Zane said. “The beauty of our position now is that Nicholas is honor bound to find me on the battlefield. His top soldiers are honor bound to protect their High Prince.”

General Brewner let out a laugh that reminded Lily of a dog barking. “So we can control where the Craggish forces attack. Put Ferox Halloway somewhere visible, and Nicholas will attack it.”

Zane nodded. “And I’m told you haven’t used the elves in combat yet.”

“No,” Ewrkind growled. “They haven’t.”

Lily knew this was a point of contention with the elves though they’d only been here a few days. They’d imagined immediately leaping into battle upon arrival. In truth, there’d only been a few major battles thus far, though the last one had been especially costly to the Opelean Army.

The king frowned. “Please. While we appreciate the elves’ enthusiasm, we can’t count on them to turn the tide. Even if they’re immune to our thorns, we’ve seen that the Craggish thorns are on a different level. For all we know, the elves will burn the same as our men.”

“That’s not how it works,” Ewrkind said, his voice thick with irritation.

Lily noticed no one corrected the elf for his failure to use an honorific when addressing the king. It was that air of royal authority he possessed, Lily suspected. He had the presence of a king even though he wasn’t one.

Zane said, “Your Majesty, I propose we engage the enemy and fully commit ourselves to this battle. The combination of the elves and our ability to direct the Craggish Army’s attack could lead to a defining moment in the war.”

“It’s not enough.” It was Jacob who spoke. His voice was soft, the way it always was with he was deep in thought.

The king looked at him impatiently. “Speak your mind, Jacob.”

Jacob looked at the king, his face pale, as if he’d just realized something terrible and important. “If we are going to commit to this plan, we have to take it all the way. If we’re not going to kill Zane, we need to honor him. Make it look like he is being rewarded for his actions. Let the Craggish think we consider him a hero. We need to promote him to a position of honor.”

“It makes sense,” Prince Christopher said. “The Craggish already respect Zane as a warrior. He did kill their former High Prince, after all. Promoting him would be seen as a sign of confidence.”

The king frowned. “What are you saying? Make him a captain in the Army?”

Jacob spoke slowly when he answered. “I was thinking of something a bit more lofty, Your Majesty. There is another position available.”

The king’s eyes widened as he realized what Jacob was suggesting. “Have you gone mad?”

“Quite possibly,” Jacob said, dryly. “Still, Your Majesty, I stand by my assertion.”

Lily’s mouth went dry as she realized what they were talking about. No. It wasn’t possible. Not Zane.

“It needn’t be forever, Majesty,” Jacob said.

King Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Trust me, it won’t be.” He nodded toward the Guards on either side of Zane. “Untie his hands.” As they worked, he spoke to Zane. “From here on out, I expect cooperation. You have a plan, you run it past me first. You’re going to be on a short rope, understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Zane said, but Lily could see by his face that he didn’t. Not yet. She looked around and saw that of those gathered, only Jacob had a clue what was about to happen.

The king stood up and walked around to the front of the table. He motioned to a spot on the floor in front of him. “Kneel, Ferox Halloway.”

Zane did as the king ordered.

“Make your vow before God and your king,” King Edward said. “Do you promise to serve your nation, performing all duties asked and laying down your life if the need should arise?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Zane said, confusion in his wide eyes.

“Do you promise to do your best to live up to the legacy of your appointed position and the great men who served faithfully before you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Zane repeated.

The king drew his sword and rested the blade on Zane’s right shoulder. “Then I charge you, Zane Halloway, with the duty of being my personal representative in combat, the responsibility of being my chief protector, and the honor of serving as the leader of the King’s Guards. I hereby bestow upon you the title of King’s Sword.”

Zane’s eyes suddenly grew wide. The room was still, no one even daring to breathe.

“For all our sakes, I hope your time in the position is both productive and brief.” With that, King Edward held out a hand and helped his new Sword to his feet.

***

Lily and Ewrkind sat astride their horses on the slope of a hill to the east of Harken. It was the highest ground the Opeleans controlled, and the Craggish wanted it. Today, they would try to take it. The elvish army, if one could call five-hundred untested young elves an army, was gathered in front of them.

Ewrkind’s horse stomped its feet and the elf shifted uneasily in his saddle. Lily pretended not to notice. Most of the elves were on foot. The horses they’d brought with them had been deemed unfit for battle. That was all right. The Craggish they would be facing were mostly on foot as well. Horses didn’t react well to their riders shooting fireballs. General Brewner had insisted Ewrkind ride, though, and it made sense. The added visibility and mobility were necessary for a field commander. The elf, who had mostly ridden small packhorses slowly through the crowded streets behind the Blue Wall, was still growing accustomed to the powerful warhorse he’d been given.

Lily glanced at Ewrkind’s face and saw the tension in his jawline and neck.

“Nervous?” she asked with a smile. She expected him to respond with a typical soldier’s bravado, denying the mere possibility of any concern for his own life. Instead, he surprised her.

Without taking his eyes off the elves gathered in rank and file on the hill below him, he said, “Oh yes. Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I am.”

They had every right to be nervous, both of them.

King Edward and General Brewner had made clear the elves’ goal: they were to attack the Craggish Army, doing as much damage as they could as quickly as they could, engaging it for as long as possible. Because of their higher ground, General Brewner was confident the Opelean Army could handle the Tavellers if the elves could keep the Craggish at bay.

A sound like a growl escaped from Ewrkind’s throat. “I don’t like this positioning. We are on the front lines against an enemy that just days ago decimated the Opeleans.”

“If I remember correctly, it was you who volunteered to be on the front lines.”

Ewrkind’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. I’d do many foolish things for the freedom of my people.”

Lily didn’t begrudge him his nerves. The king and general were counting on the surprise the Craggish would experience when they found their thorns didn’t work on the elves. Still, there were five hundred elves and three thousand Craggish. Craggish who had been training their whole lives to do battle. Yes, they might temporarily lose their composure when they found out their magic was ineffective, but they wouldn’t panic. It was a suicide mission for the elves, pure and simple.

“I promise you, Ewrkind, whatever stories you’ve heard about the Craggish, they’ve heard even worse ones about you.”

Ewrkind turned to Lily. “Lily Rhodes, when the war is over, will you consider coming to reside with my people in the northern woods? We’ll need a liaison. A human to deal with the human matters that are sure to spring up from time to time.”

Lily blinked hard, a bit taken aback by the proposal. “I…would consider it.”

“Good,” the elf said. “If I don’t survive this day, see that the king keeps his promise to my elves.”

Lily nodded. “Of course. I’ll do what I can.”

“No,” Ewrkind said, his voice a harsh bark. “That’s not good enough. See that it’s done.”

She looked into his eyes. It was something she usually avoided, but she wanted to show the elf she trusted him and was worthy of his trust in return. “Aye, Ewrkind, I’ll see it done.”

The elf turned away, satisfied.

Lily looked back over her shoulder at the massive army of Opeleans. Even more were lined up on either side of the hill, but behind her was the most important bit. Zane sat on the tallest horse, in front of a crimson banner displaying a sword clutched in a gauntlet, the field banner of the King’s Sword. He was sure to be spotted by any enemy with a field glass. Which was the point. If things went as planned, the Craggish would attack this side of the hill.

“Look,” Ewrkind said. He nodded toward the east. “They come.”

It was a full minute before Lily saw for herself what he was talking about.

It started as a cloud of dust in the distance, but soon it was a teeming mass that looked like a single organism wriggling and rolling its way over the nearest hill toward them.

Ewrkind stood still as a stone. The tension was there in his face, but there was resolve in his eyes.

“They’ll be here in a moment,” Lily said. “Do you need to say anything to your troops?”

Ewrkind smiled, and there was something like sadistic pleasure behind the smile. “They’re elves. They need no instruction.”

Lily risked one last glance up the hill. From her angle, she could see Jacob was using a shimmer to make Zane appear a bit larger than he actually was, a tactic both to make him more visible and to make him appear more formidable, and thus a more worthy target for the Craggish High Prince.

The approaching army was close enough that Lily could see the individual members now, and, yes, the closest group, the one heading straight toward Lily’s position, had shaved heads with only a bun of hair at the top. So far the plan was working.

As they reached the bottom of the hill, the Craggish Army seemed to pick up speed rather than slow down. They rushed up the hill. The ones in front must have been abditus, as evidenced by their empty hands. From their feral confidence, it was clear they expected the enemy to form a line to try to stop them. They moved like an army preparing to break through a blockade.

Lily asked, “Should we—”

“Not yet,” Ewrkind said. He glanced at Lily. “You’ll stay behind us. Once we have dispatched the abditus, feel free to engage.”

Lily flashed him a smile. “By the time you’re through with the abditus, you’ll have to look ahead to see me.”

For a moment, she thought Ewrkind was going to argue, but he didn’t. He turned his gaze back toward the approaching army. “I suppose it’s time.”

There was the smallest hint of a shake in his voice.

“Your army awaits, Lord Ewrkind,” Lily said.

She’d meant it as a joke, perhaps a subtle boost to his ego, but his eyes flashed with anger.

“Elves don’t have lords. We don’t have dukes or princes or kings. And do you know why, Lily Rhodes?”

“No, I don’t.”

He raised up in his saddle and turned to face the enemy. “It’s because every elf is noble.”

Ewrkind opened his mouth and let out an inhuman shriek that sent a wave of terror through Lily. Five hundred shrieks answered, and the hillside reverberated with the horrifying sound of it. As one, the elvish army rushed forward. Ewrkind kicked his horse into motion and the beast galloped ahead. He suddenly looked so natural in the saddle that Lily wondered why she had ever doubted him. He was an elf, after all, the people of the trees and the beasts and the waters. Of course he could ride.

Lily stayed back. Her time would come in a moment, but she wanted to watch the first clash from here. She moved her gaze from the elves to the line of abditus at the front of the Craggish army. They were almost in range.

Lily had to hand it to the Craggish: they did not slow their assault as the howling opponents rushed toward them. They must have heard about the elves. Surely the Tavellers had spies in the Opelean camp same as the Opeleans had spies in theirs. They must have known the warriors rushing toward them were not human. Still they pressed on.

As one, the abditus raised their hands, and even from this far off Lily saw the glint of the sun reflect off their many rings and bracelets. Through some unspoken, unseen signal, they all fired their thorns at the same moment. A hundred fireballs, each the size of a large watermelon, erupted from the front of the Craggish line and flew through the air toward the elves. The site of them stung Lily’s eyes, but she didn’t turn away. She needed to see this. She needed to see if they’d just sent five hundred elvish warriors to an instant death in a single wave of fire.

The elves charged head-on toward the fireballs, and, in a moment, the fireballs hit the elves. The fire disappeared, like a candle flame snuffed out by a breath. The instant the fire touched the elves, it was gone.

Now the Craggish line faltered. The Craggish warriors, whether unaware or unimpressed by what had just occurred continued on apace, but the abditus who comprised the front line reacted to the unexplainable ineffectiveness of their magics. Some turned away from the foes, heading either to the left or the right. Some attempted to stop, only to be pressed forward by the throng behind them. A few continued straight forward, firing their thorns again and again, seemingly oblivious to the lack of results and to the fact that most of their ally abditus had turned from the assault. The result was a broken, disjointed front line.

As the gap between the two armies closed and the initial clash appeared imminent, Lily decided it was time to act. She sprinted forward ten steps, just enough to get a good head of speed behind her, then leapt into the air, touching the glide on her finger as she did so. She soared, her momentum carrying her forward and the glide preventing her from losing any altitude as the hill fell away below her. She glided over the heads of the elves and toward the enemy. None of the elves seemed to notice her passage, but some of the Craggish did. Most of them stared at her, mouths hanging open and eyes wide, having likely never seen a glide in action, but a few of the Craggish fitted arrow to bowstring. The Craggish were legendary crack shots, but Lily wasn’t worried. Perhaps she should have been, but she couldn’t muster even the beginnings of fear. Up here, she felt invincible.

The first goal of the elves had been accomplished: withstand the abditus. But now the unfair advantage of the elves had passed its most useful moment. The shock and awe at the magic resistance of the elves and, to a lesser extent, at the flying warrior woman, was still there, but it’s poignancy was fading. Now would come the tough part. Now they would have to fight.

She was high above and still a little behind the front line of the elves when the two armies met. The clang of steel on steel rang out in the air, and the earth shook with the power of the two forces colliding. Lily could feel it even from up in the air. She heard the cries of the abditus, most of them unarmed but for their thorns, as they met their deaths under the elves’ swords. A tiny part of her felt empathy at their cries—these were members of her profession, after all—but only a tiny part. They had chosen to engage in war, and they were paying the warriors’ price. Lily would expect them to feel no compassion for her if she were killed during the battle.

She set her eyes on a spot behind the front lines, a gap between the first wave of soldiers and the reinforcements. If she dropped in there, she could do some real damage.

As she descended, something troubling caught her eye. The Craggish Army was drifting north, toward the Tavel forces. If they managed to join with the others, the plan would be ruined.

She engaged a shimmer to mask her landing. This particular shimmer was one of Jacob’s favorites. It didn’t make her precisely invisible, but it did make her blend in with her surroundings. Unless someone looked directly at her for a few seconds, they were unlikely to see her. She kept the shimmer activated and slid her sword out of its scabbard, turned toward the Craggish soldiers, and went to work. She was an assassin, silent and deadly, just as she’d been trained to be. Though Zane had never imagined her working like this.

Lily lost track of how many she killed. She struck down men and women, old Craggish, and those who seemed too young to be on a battlefield. Her blade cut through all of them.

A few caught sight of her, but in the din and confusion of battle none saw her for long. It was hard, grueling work, and she took no pleasure in it, except perhaps for the pleasure of using both her skill sets, that of a ferox and that of an abditus, to their fullest.

She heard a series of barked orders, and she noticed the army around her shifting. She looked up and saw Zane, still made unnaturally large by Jacob’s shimmers, had moved to the south end of the hill. And, just as he’d hoped, Nicholas was moving his troops toward Zane and away from the Tavel Army.

Lily pushed forward, and soon she started to catch glimpses of the elves in front of her. It made her happy to see at least some of them were still on their feet. Then she saw Ewrkind astride his warhorse. His eyes were fixed on a spot to the east of Lily, and he was moving toward it with a purpose.

She took a deep breath to steel her resolve, raised her sword, and went back to work.

CHAPTER NINE

The Sword and the Shadow moved along the edge of the Craggish Army, swift and unseen.

Zane turned to Jacob and whispered, “Are you sure we’re still covered?”

Jacob was short of breath, and he answered in short halting sentences. “Yes. Stop asking that. The shimmers work. Keep going.”

Zane nodded briskly. Of course the shimmers worked. They were the best in the world, from the royal armory. But Zane had spent so long distrusting magic, avoiding its use except in the direst of circumstances, that trusting the success or failure of the battle to a magical device irked him.

The elves could see them. That much he knew. The elves they passed kept giving them strange looks, no doubt wondering at these men who crept through the battle as if trying to sneak into bed without waking anyone in the house.

Zane glanced up toward the hilltop where the illusion Jacob had created still stood. It was eerie looking up there and seeing himself. Even though he knew it was not real, it was disconcerting. Of course, he could have stayed up there for real, served as Nicholas’s real target, but that wasn’t in his nature. There was a battle going on and his king needed his best men in the field.

His king. Even though the appointment to the role of King’s Sword was a sham, a trick to manipulate Nicholas, Zane found himself taking the responsibility of it seriously. As such, he had to be out here. Let Nicholas go after the illusion. Nicholas wasn’t Zane’s real target. The real target was Caleb Longstrain. Zane silently vowed to himself that by day’s end he would see to it Longstrain was either captured or dead. The boy was too much of a wild card, operating on the periphery, working towards goals Zane did not yet understand.

As they moved along the edge between the Craggish army on their right and the Tavel army on their left, Zane saw the battle was progressing more or less as planned. The smashing of the Craggish abditus seemed to have had a psychological effect on even the Tavel troops. The Opel army was pushing forward, pressing the attack and gaining ground. The elvish army, on the other hand, seemed to be doing little more than fighting the Craggish to a standstill, which was still impressive considering they were outnumbered six-to-one. The elves weren’t required to defeat the Craggish for the plan to work. They just needed to keep them engaged and away from the Opelean troops.

Jacob leaned over and said in a breathy voice, “If I know Longstrain, he’ll be working along the perimeter between the two armies. He’ll be popping back and forth, picking enemies off at the edges where he’s sure to be seen and be able to claim as much glory as possible.”

Zane stopped listening mid-sentence. Something had caught his eye. A Cragsman astride a large warhorse, trotting back and forth along the lines, giving help where needed and encouraging the troops.

It was Nicholas. He wore a helmet, probably intending to hide the shame Zane had caused him, but, since he was one of the few helmeted Craggish, he only succeeded in drawing attention to himself.

“There now,” Jacob said, looking toward Nicholas. “Longstrain won’t be far from the High Prince.”

“Ferox Halloway.”

The voice came from behind him and to the right. Zane spun, sword in hand, but relaxed when he saw Ewrkind. The elf’s face was aglow with something like joy.  “How goes the battle for you?”

Zane said, “Not well. I’m seeking a particular target, and thus far he eludes me.”

Ewrkind glanced down at Zane’s clean blade. “My sympathies. I suggest you don’t waste your time looking for a particular enemy when there are plenty right in front—” The elf’s voice cut off as he noticed something ahead of him. “Excuse me, Ferox Halloway.”

The elf urged his horse forward and it marched toward Nicholas’s.

“This will be interesting,” Jacob said.

“We need to find Caleb,” Zane said, but Jacob ignored him.

“High Prince!” Ewrkind called in a deep voice that somehow carried over the din of the battle.

Nicholas looked up, and his eyes narrowed when he saw Ewrkind.

“I hear you are the best warrior among your people,” the elf said. He swung his leg over his horse and dropped to the ground, raising his broadsword as he landed. “Perhaps you’ll be worthy of my blade.”

Nicholas’s face was a mask of fury. He turned his horse and trotted toward Ewrkind. He dismounted when he reached the elf. “You’re the chief of the elves, then?”

Ewrkind smiled. “The Elvish have no chief, but I am first among our warriors.”

“You fight for your captors?” Nicholas said. “And I’d always read that your were a noble people.”

“And I’d heard you were an attractive people,” Ewrkind answered. “It seems we were both misled.”

Nicholas frowned. “Call off your elves and I will see you are awarded a generous area of land to call your own once we burn Langton to the ground. But if you oppose me, I’ll cut you down. I seek Zane Halloway, the King’s Sword. I shall not stop until I face the greatest warrior in Opel.”

“High Prince,” Ewrkind said, raising his broadsword, “you’re already facing him.”

Ewrkind charged forward.

Nicholas’s face darkened at the site of the huge elf raging toward him, but only for a moment. He raised his sword and deflected the elf’s attack. His eyes widened as he did, clearly surprised at his opponent’s strength. He snarled and pressed his own attack.

Now Ewrkind smiled, pleased at his enemy’s speed. It quickly became evident to Zane that, while Ewrkind was much stronger, Nicholas had much more skill and speed on his side.

“Perhaps we should intervene,” Zane said.

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “If you’d really like to get in the middle of a fight between a Cragsman and an elf, be my guest. Me, I’m going to wait for Longstrain to show up.”

Zane turned away from the two combatants and surveyed the battle going on around him. He’d seen much death over the years, but he’d never before seen it at this scale. Opeleans, Tavellers, Craggish, and elves all lay dead on the ground. Others laid maimed or injured, fruitlessly calling for help that was surely not to come for hours yet.

A deep voice cried out, and Zane turned back to the battle. Nicholas’s sword dripped, and blood seeped through Ewrkind’s fingers as he held his stomach.

“For your nation’s sake, I hope you’re not the greatest warrior in Opel.” In spite of his bravado, Nicholas was clearly out of breath, and his eyes showed a respect his words did not.

Ewrkind groaned and glared at his opponent, staring directly into his eyes. “High Prince, you will now drop your sword.”

Zane felt a chill run through him as he realized Nicholas’s mistake. The Craggish man had looked his opponent in the eyes. It made sense. Craggish culture was focused on showing no weakness, and not looking in your opponent’s eyes could be seen as a sign of fear.

Slowly, as if in a dream, Nicholas let his sword fall to the ground.

Ewrkind raised his broadsword. His hands shook, and his face was pale. But, when he spoke, his voice was strong. “You have been a worthy opponent.” He swung his blade, and, in one mighty blow, lopped off the High Prince’s head.

Suddenly, the battlefield seemed much quieter, and Zane realized the nearby soldiers, Craggish and elvish alike, were staring at Ewrkind, their eyes wide.

Ewrkind put a hand on his leg, clearly struggling to stay upright. He turned and looked at the elves around him. In a loud voice, he said, “Let us finish what we have begun.”

The Craggish began to move toward the elf who’d just killed their High Prince. The elves let loose a series of war cries and rushed to defend their leader.

Zane realized he was standing at the heart of the battle.

He turned to Jacob…but the King’s Shadow was gone. He looked around, scanning the skies, in case Jacob had used a glide, and the ground, in case he’d fallen under a blade or arrow. He didn’t see Jacob anywhere.

Chaos erupted as the Craggish Army began to collapse around Ewrkind. Zane marveled at their patriotism for a moment, then he remembered in the Craggish culture the person who defeated a High Prince’s killer took the throne himself. Ewrkind was in serious trouble. Every soldier in the Craggish Army would be after him now.

It could be an advantage for the Opeleans, Zane knew. If the Craggish were all fighting for themselves, they wouldn’t be fighting as a unit. They wouldn’t be executing the battle plan.

Zane started to move toward the elf, then he felt a blade against his neck and stopped.

A familiar voice said, “Don’t move, and I’ll let you live.”

Caleb.

Hands grabbed at Zane, forcing him to the ground, while still more hands frisked him, taking every weapon hidden on his body.

Caleb glared down at Zane, the hint of a smile on his face. “The King’s Sword. The low standards in this nation boggle the mind. Come, Zane, we have a long journey ahead of us. You’re about to make me very rich, and I’m about to make you very dead.”

Caleb’s men bound Zane’s hands, his feet, and his mouth, and carried him through the chaotic killing field toward his fate.

***

An hour later, two crewmen untied Zane’s feet and pushed him across a gangplank and onto a ship docked on the mighty Harken River. He stumbled his way onto the main deck, where he saw Caleb, suddenly looking every inch the pirate, grinning at him.

“My friend, you are going to fetch me a very pretty penny in Tavel,” Caleb said. “I’ve told King Richard of your work, and he has many questions for you. And the abditus, too, I’d wager.”

Zane took a deep breath. It always helped to calm him. “Caleb, I don’t know what you’ve been told, but there is no reason the king of Tavel would want me. Before I was named the King’s Sword yesterday, I was no one of political importance. I was just a ferox operating in a landlocked city about as far from Tavel as is possible within Opel.”

Caleb threw back his head and laughed. “Very good! Very good, indeed! You were just a ferox. A ferox the king personally sent for when he wanted the head of the Ferox Society killed. A ferox who killed the most famous tanglesman of our time. A ferox who negotiated a peace with the elves and set the groundwork for them to join the Opel cause. A ferox who traveled to the Crags to help depose an unfriendly High Prince and implement a new regime. You’re just a ferox. And my father was just a pirate.” He poked Zane in the chest with his index finger. “Halloway, you’ve been betrayed, and there is a very high price on your head, one I aim to collect.”

“Caleb,” Zane said, his voice a bit softer now, “you realize she will come after you.”

Caleb laughed again. “Who? Lily?” He gestured out toward the water. “We’ll be on a ship in the river. And in a few hours we’ll be in the Gamlond Sea. I’ll be able to spot an approaching ship three miles away. We’re armed with tangles that could disable even Von Ridden’s shimmers. If Lily wants to come after me, she’s welcome to try. But frankly? Catching us unawares would be quite impossible.”

Zane just smiled.

CHAPTER TEN

“They’ve taken Zane.”

Lily whirled around, bringing her sword up and preparing to strike. Thankfully, she saw the elf Gabel just in time and stopped herself.

Somewhere during this fight, time had come unglued for Lily. She moved through the enemy, biting at them with her sword, mostly unseen, cutting the life from person after person each with a single stroke of her blade. It was war, and it was just as she’d always imagined it. No, that wasn’t true. She’d imagined the bloodshed. But she hadn’t imagined the smell. Or the noise. Or the confusion, the inability to see what was happening more than a few yards in any direction. The strange combination of numbness and heightened awareness. She’d experienced some of this before. After all, she’d been in plenty of battles. But never at this scale. She’d never imagined death drawn so large.

Gabel’s voice had woken her from her battle rage. She stared at him, blinking, trying to understand what it was he was talking about.

“Ewrkind sent me to find you,” the elf said. “He thought you’d want to know. He apologizes for not coming himself, but the entire Craggish Army is currently trying to kill him.”

Zane…the elf had said something about Zane…that he’d been taken.

The fog quickly lifted from Lily’s mind. “Who took him?”

“The, uh, the pirate,” Gabel said. “Tallbrain? Something like that?”

Lily’s blood went cold. Caleb. “Tell me everything you know about what happened.”

Gabel gave her enough information to get her started. Caleb and four men in ill-fitting Taveller uniforms—pirates, maybe?—had caught Zane by surprise, tied him, and carried him away. An elf had heard Caleb say he was going to make money from Zane. That meant he would likely be ransoming him to either Tavel or the Crags. If it was Tavel, they’d likely take Zane by ship down the Harken River and toward the Gamlond Sea. If it was the Crags, they’d carry him west over land. She needed to find out which it was, and quickly.

Unless Caleb had holed up with him near here, maybe took him to the Taveller camp. She shook the thought from her mind. She had to assume they were moving quickly so she didn’t risk falling hopelessly far behind.

A sudden thought came to her. “Gabel, I promised the king I’d stay with you elves. I was to be your liaison. I need to go, but—”

Gabel held up a hand to stop her. He gestured to the dead Craggish scattered around the battlefield. “I think you can see we’re doing all right without you. Go, with Ewrkind’s blessings.”

Lily nodded and mumbled her thanks. There was so much running through her mind that she was surprised she remembered to do even that.

She made a split-second decision: she needed to assume they’d go by ship. Considering Caleb’s family history and the mysterious men with him, it was the safer bet. Besides, if they were going over land, she could catch up with them. If they were going by sea, her time was much more limited.

Lily fought her way off the battlefield and took the quickest route to Harken. She headed to the riverside section of town, the place where ships docked when traversing the Harken River.

Lily saw an old man painting his boat, and she smiled. Now was her chance to put everything Zane had taught her into practice. She would take the very social skills he’d given her and use them to save him.

She approached the boat and called to the man. “Excuse me, sir.”

He glanced toward her, then did a double take, his eyes widening as he stared at her.

“I’m looking for my father,” she said. “He’s…not well. I believe he may have passed by. How long have you been out here?”

The paint brush fell from the man’s suddenly limp hand. He backed away slowly, not taking his eyes off her.

“Please, sir. You have no idea how important—”

“No,” he said in a weak voice. “You keep away from me!”

Lily suddenly remembered she was covered with dried blood. She sighed. So much for people skills. She drew her sword and climbed onto the boat. If niceties wouldn’t work, surely intimidation would.

She got the information she needed and even convinced the nice old man to lend her his boat.

In less than an hour, she’d managed to catch up to Caleb’s ship. She waited until it was full dark, snuck aboard using the same hook and rope technique the Longstrain pirates favored, and began her preparations.

She was waiting in the shadows when she heard Caleb and Zane come up onto the deck. She felt a smile creep over her face.

“It’s time to resign yourself to the fact that no one’s coming to save you,” Caleb said. “With the confusion of the battle, it will be tomorrow before anyone realizes you’re gone.”

“Perhaps,” Zane said. It should have been impossible for him to see her in the darkness, hiding behind a heavy coil of rope, yet he looked directly at her when he spoke again. “And even if someone did realize it and did come to save me, what chance would they have of boarding the ship undetected? And, if they did somehow manage that, they would have to face your crew, which would be no easy task.” He paused for a moment, turning to Caleb. “Now that I think of it, shouldn’t they be milling around out here?”

“Funny things, ships,” Caleb said. “They always seem too crowded or too empty.” He scratched at his chin for a moment, looking around, perhaps realizing that his crew really did seem to be missing.

Lily stepped out of the shadows and pressed the point of her sword against his back. “Caleb, I believe your men abandoned ship.”

Caleb tensed, but, she had to hand it to him, he managed to recover from the shock quickly. His voice barely shook when he asked, “You killed them?”

Lily shrugged. “They’re no longer on the ship. Let’s leave it at that.” She looked at Zane. “You remembered the Captain Zachary Derk job.”

Zane nodded. “How could I forget? I was sure you’d manage to talk yourself to a watery death before I got there. But you survived. You surprised me.”

“Not for the last time, I hope.”

“Ah, far from it,” Zane said with a smile.

Lily pressed the tip of her sword a bit harder into Caleb’s back, and she felt the flesh beneath it give. Just a cut, but she wanted to let him know she was serious. “Caleb, what in the blazes are you doing? Everything you’ve done in the past few months…it’s mad!”

“I did my duty.” There was a snarl in his voice.

“Your duty? Kidnapping the King’s Sword? Starting a war? Betraying your king? It was your duty?”

Zane cleared his throat gently. “I’d love it if someone could untie me. When you get a chance.”

Lily pulled the knife out of her belt and tossed it to him. He caught it and went to work on his ropes.

“Lily,” Caleb said, “I know you’re not going to believe this, but I’m glad you came. I was going to explain everything after the war, but now that you’re here, there’s no need to wait. We can start our life.”

Lily gritted her teeth. If this man still believed they were going to be together, he was insane. What made it worse was that she’d truly cared about him. She’d never glimpsed the pirate heart beating in his chest. It scared her, the idea of how love had blinded her to the truth.

“I’ve been promised a title and land,” Caleb said. “Respect. Security. When the war’s over, I’ll rule over a good portion of the coast. Morven and Arrow will be ours. Imagine the possibilities.”

That last bit gave Lily pause. If King Richard of Tavel really had promised Caleb those things, he wasn’t here to settle a trade dispute or to win a bit of land in south Opel. He was here to conquer. To end Opel as a nation. Her mind spun. Tavel didn’t have enough men for such a thing, not even with the Craggish support, but yet…

A thought occurred to her. “Caleb, you said in your letter that you got something important in the Crags. Something more than an army. Tell me what it was.”

Caleb paused for a moment before answering. “All right. I’ll tell you, not because you have a knife to my back, but because I want to prove I trust you. My father made most of his living by commandeering Taveller trade ships, many of which were carrying Craggish spices. The Craggish High Prince vowed to put a stop to it. My father asked the king to send a letter to the High Prince, letting him know my father was working in Opel’s service. Opel and the Crags had a closer relationship back then, and the king agreed to do it. The letter talked about how both Opel and the Crags could benefit from a weakening of the Tavel trade industry.”

“You went to the Crags to get the letter,” Lily said.

“Yes. High Prince Gullins denied it existed, but when Nicholas took the throne, he found it in the archives.”

Zane rubbed his freed wrists. “I’m beginning to regret ever helping that man. May he rest in peace.”

Caleb ignored the comment. “I gave the letter to King Richard. It helped convince him that a simple border war wasn’t enough. That Opel needed to be destroyed. When the war’s over, we’ll make it public and clear my father’s name once and for all.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, son,” Zane said, “but your father was still a pirate, no matter who he was working for. And he was a bit of a bastard, too. I speak from personal experience.”

“Caleb,” Lily said, “You are a war criminal. You are going to be executed.”

Caleb shook his head vehemently back and forth. “You’re wrong about that. I’m not a war criminal. I’m like my father. When the truth comes out—”

“The truth has come out!” Lily snapped. “There’s nothing you can say that makes you the hero in this. You’re a traitor to everyone who cared about you.”

“Not everyone.” Caleb took a deep breath before continuing. “Lily, this won’t be easy to hear, but I need you to keep an open mind. I…I have a wife. And a child. They’re in safe in Tavel. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to warm you to the idea.”

Lily was surprised to find she wasn’t angry at the news. Not even entirely surprised. She was simply saddened that this man she’d loved was so delusional.

“Listen,” Caleb said, “it doesn’t mean we can’t be together. We can be a happy family, like my father and his wives.”

“You call them happy?” Zane asked. “Last I remember, they were trying to kill each other.”

“Lily, you have to—”

“I don’t have to do anything, but I will make you a promise. I’ll see to it your family is safe and cared for after you’re gone.”

Caleb’s shoulders drooped at her words. Whether it was relief that his family would be cared for or because he was finally coming to accept his situation, Lily did not know.

Lily said, “The first thing we are going to do is—”

Suddenly Caleb dropped into a crouch and spun, drawing his sword as he did. It was an expert move, and well-executed. Lily brought her sword around just in time.

She parried, then attacked. He was undoubtedly better than her with the sword, but he was crouched down near the deck. If she could keep him there, he wouldn’t be able to use his length against her. He was in an awkward position, and she intended to keep him there.

She hammered down at him with her sword, attacking with a relentless frenzy. She saw the look in Caleb’s eyes change as she continued her assault. His gaze shifted from confident to surprised, then to something that might have been fear. Still she didn’t let up. The battle earlier had awoken something inside her, something wild and frightening, and she wasn’t sure she could have stopped even if she’d wanted to. He’d underestimated her by attacking from a position of weakness, and she would make him pay.

To Caleb’s credit, he defended himself admirably. Few could have held off Lily’s flurry of attacks. Even fewer could have done it while crouched down on the deck of a ship. But Lily could see him looking for any opening, any chance to stand up.

And that, she knew, was how she would end this.

She paused only a second, a momentary respite that could have been part of the natural rhythm of the fight. Caleb seized it, as she knew he would. He leapt to a standing position, and, in doing so, gave her the opening she needed.

She swung quick and hard, slashing his throat.

Caleb Longstrain clutched at his neck as he fell to the deck. Lily stood, forcing herself to watch, her hands shaking. In less than a minute, he was unconscious, and death quickly followed.

Lily didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually she felt Zane’s hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Lily. No one should have to kill someone they love. But you did right. You saved both our lives.”

She nodded, aware on some level of the truth in what he said. Still, in her heart, where it really mattered, his words held little comfort.

“What now?” Lily asked.

“We have to go back to Harken.” Zane grimaced. “Caleb said he’d been promised a title and land. He said he wasn’t a traitor. That he was like his father.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed as she realized what Zane was saying. Caleb’s father had been a public enemy secretly on assignment from the crown.

“Lily, I don’t think it was the king of Tavel who promised him those things. I think Caleb was working for someone on the Opelean side.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The next morning, after a brief stop at Lily’s tent to better arm themselves, they went to see Jacob. They found him alone in his tent, writing a letter.

He looked up when they entered, Zane bruised and dirty, Lily still speckled with the dried blood of her enemies. To his credit, he didn’t react. His face gave away nothing.

“Ah,” he said. “We were wondering when you two would wander back.” He managed a smile. “Yesterday was a bloody, sad day, but today is for celebrations. The war is far from over, but our victory will go a long way toward securing our position.”

“To prolonging the war, you mean,” Lily said.

“Jacob,” Zane said, “we know.”

Jacob carefully set down his quill and folded his hands on the table. “And what, pray tell, do you know?”

“We know about Caleb,” Zane said. “We know you convinced him to defect, to help start the war. We know you convinced him he’d be some sort of double agent. That he’d get some of reward, a title, land. What we don’t know is why.”

Jacob’s face darkened, but it still betrayed no distinct emotions. “I could deny it. There’s no proof. Nothing solid enough for the king to believe his most trusted advisor had betrayed him.”

In truth, Zane hadn’t known Jacob was the person pulling Caleb’s strings. Not for certain. But it all fit. Jacob had worked alongside Caleb, and he was certainly the perfect combination of power hungry and egotistical to think he could succeed in influencing the fate of nations. As Jacob said, there was no proof. And no motive, other than the pursuit of power.

Zane waited, resisting the urge to argue with Jacob. He was impressed that Lily did the same. Two years ago, she would have rushed to fill the silence with accusations and threats. She’d come so far. He was proud of her. Maybe more proud than he’d ever been of anything he’d accomplished in his petty, violent life.

Jacob sighed. “You act as if it’s just me. As if I could do something this big alone. I’m flattered, but, really, I’m only one man. It took a number of people in key positions in both the Tavel and Opel Abditus Societies. Something that’s been building for many years. I am just the spark that lit the fire. Even with all of us, it was far from easy. Starting a war, and making sure it would be a significant one is no small task.”

“But why?” Zane asked. “Who gains from a war?”

“Who gains?” Jacob smiled condescendingly as if it were a ridiculous question. “Everyone gains! Society gains! Our children and their children and their children. Do you know how much progress happens during war? How many magical innovations? Better magic means a better world. Surely even you can see that. And ever since the magic boom, we’ve stagnated. Abditus have been afraid to experiment. But when a person’s life is on the line, he tends to get very creative, very quickly.”

“That’s why you had the elves take out the Craggish abditus, isn’t it?” Lily asked, her voice shaking with rage. “Because you’re in bed with the Taveller abditus, and you didn’t like the competition of magic you don’t understand.”

Jacob scoffed. “That was just an added benefit. The plan simply made sense. Listen, I know this is shocking to you both, and that your first instincts are to reach for your swords. I ask that you let me make my case. Is it a short term evil? Yes. But think of the long term good! If you take a little time to hear what I’m telling you, I think you’ll come around.  Then we can all work together to build a future for our nation.”

Zane felt an anger welling up deep inside him at the sight of this man, his old friend, who’d done so much harm. “I’d never work with you. Never again.”

Jacob threw his head back and let out a surprisingly high-pitched squeal for such a large man. “You won’t work with me? What do you think you’ve been doing for the past two years? Who do you think sent Albert Graze to hire you to kill Irving Farns? Farns had turned into a pacifist after his wife died, and his emergence from isolation could have truly spoiled our plans. His reputation carried a lot of weight in the Society with those I needed to influence.”

Zane gripped the hilt of his sword.

“Who convinced the king to hire you to kill Charles Danum?” Jacob continued. “Who did Beth Farns give your contract to? Who sent Caleb on his mission to meet up with his mothers-in-law? Who sent Lily to the Crags? Who managed to get you named King’s Sword?” He leaned forward and smiled. “Me. It’s always been me. I’ve been manipulating your life for years, but I managed to put us in the exact position we’re in today. We are the two most powerful men in Opel. The king will dance to the tune we play him. Please, for the friendship we once had, help me do this thing for our future.”

Zane slowly drew his sword. “Jacob, I’m placing you under arrest.”

Jacob sighed. “You sadden me, Zane.” He turned to Lily. “And what of you? It’s time to choose a side. You said vows, now it’s time to uphold them.”

Lily drew her own sword. “Like Zane said, your freedom ends now.”

“I liked you, Lily. You had such a bright future. There is so much more we could have learned together. Did you know there are other worlds out there? There is magic beyond what even the elves of old knew. Magic that can stop time itself! But we’ll never get there, we’ll never learn about it if we don’t push the boundaries. That is what this war’s about. You could have helped me. Instead, we’ll have to do this the other way.” He stood up from his desk.” Julia. Tomas. If you don’t mind?”

A woman stepped from the shadows behind Jacob. She must have been hiding there all along, but Zane hadn’t seen her. Julia Pruit. Tomas stepped through the flap and into the tent. They flanked Zane and Lily.

The Pruits stood still, and their eyes carried all the emotion of a stone.

Zane’s hands were suddenly wet with perspiration. He was about to die, which wouldn’t have bothered him so much if Lily didn’t have to die alongside him.

He glanced over at her. She was shifting her stance. It took him a moment to recognize it. Then he got it. She was preparing for the Twin Viper, the two-person sword form they’d learned together. Something about it, about the way she so casually slipped into the form without even looking at him, trusting he’d do the same, brought a lump to his throat. They were about to be destroyed by two assassins who had worked side-by-side for twenty years, who probably knew each other’s moves before they made them, but Lily couldn’t know that. She remained unfazed, her face showing nothing but confidence.

He slipped in behind her, taking his place in the Twin Viper form.

Julia spoke in her thick, islander accent. “Young woman, when you lose, take solace in the fact that you are facing the greatest assassin in the world.”

Lily raised her sword. “No. I’m back-to-back with him.” With that, she stomped her foot down, the signal for Zane to attack.

It had been two years since they’d fought together like this, but they fell into the form smoothly. Zane swung around Lily and attacked Julia from the left as Lily drifted back to protect their flank from Tomas. That opening gambit surprised most opponents, throwing them off their rhythm, but the Pruits had seen too much to be fazed by a simple Twin Viper swing attack. Julia easily parried Zane’s assault, then lunged toward where Zane and Lily’s backs touched, the clear weak point of their current formation. Zane got his sword up just in time to protect Lily from being stabbed in the back as she engaged Tomas.

Zane silently cursed. This was futile. The Pruits had seen it all, and they’d survived it all. This could not end well. Not unless he thought of something new, something they hadn’t seen, and quickly.

But he didn’t have to because Lily already had. She took a large step back from Tomas and flicked her wrist, releasing her sword and sending it flying through the air. Zane resisted the urge to cry out in frustration. She’d broken the cardinal rule of sword fighting; she’d lost control of her weapon.

Tomas took a quick step left, and the sword whizzed over his shoulder. He started to smile, but Lily made a quick motion with her empty sword hand, a hand wearing a ring too large to be anything but a magical device, and the sword stopped in midair, spun, and plunged into Tomas’s back.

Tomas and Julia let out simultaneous cries as Tomas fell. Lily was already in motion, dashing toward Tomas and plucking her sword from his back.

Zane realized he’d been watching this when he could have been pressing the attack against Julia. He swung toward her, and Lily fell in at his side.

Julia’s eyes were filled with tears. “You’ve killed Tomas,” she said in a halting voice. And then she attacked.

Zane knew she would go for Lily. Lily had to know it, too. It was the unfair advantage they’d bought themselves. Julia might be a masterful, disciplined opponent most of the time, and maybe in other circumstances she could have defeated Zane and Lily together. But now, facing the woman who’d just killed her husband, she pressed the attack toward Lily, leaving Zane far too wide an opening. Zane thrust his sword, and Julia Pruit joined her husband on the ground.

Zane glanced at Lily and saw she was breathing hard and her face was covered in sweat though the fight had only lasted a few minutes. Zane was in no better shape.

“You two never fail to surprise me,” Jacob said from behind Zane.

Zane turned and faced Jacob

“Let me see if I can return the favor.” Jacob raised his hand and Zane saw the lamplight reflect off something metal.

Suddenly, pain like he’d never known erupted in Zane’s chest, and tiny bits of metal burst forth from his skin. He dropped his sword and put his hands over his chest, but the pieces of metal kept coming. They pierced his hands as they emerged from his flesh.

A distant, calm part of his mind recognized this. The Farns thorn. The one Zane had used to kill its maker. The one he’d given Lily. What was it called? The Nettle?

Another more primal part of his mind recognized it in another way. Jacob had used a sneak attack with a thorn. The same as he’d done against Rebecca Waters so long ago. Fury filled Zane. Jacob had gotten away with it then; he wouldn’t now.

“I hope you don’t mind, Lily,” Jacob said. “I visited your tent earlier. Shame on you for hiding such an elegant thorn from your mentor. Please don’t move or I’ll use it on you, too.”

Zane’s chest was on fire, but he pushed the pain down deep inside him. He used the fire it ignited to give him strength, to stay awake, to stay alert. He picked up his sword. His hands were so slick with blood he dropped it, but when he touched it the second time, he held on with everything he had.

“Please,” Jacob said. “You don’t think you’re going to—”

Zane leapt at Jacob. He knew he’d only get one chance at this, so he put everything he had into the blow. He lunged, and his sword sank into Jacob’s chest.

Jacob groaned and fell to his knees. But with a shaky hand, he raised the Nettle again.

Zane grabbed the hilt of the sword and pushed it deeper into Jacob’s massive chest. He pressed with all his strength. The pain in his own chest sang. He heard a loud cry, and he didn’t know if it came from Jacob’s mouth or his own.

Jacob toppled onto his back, his still bent legs splayed out beneath him. After a moment, the sword in his chest stopped quivering, and all was still.

Zane took a deep breath and staggered forward. He looked down into his old friend’s empty eyes, but only for a second. He’d seen so much death over the years, and for some reason this seemed like one too many.

He  gripped the hilt of his sword and tried to pull it out, but he didn’t have the strength. The world spun, and suddenly he was looking up at the room of the tent.

And there was Lily crouching over him. She was pressing cloths to his chest, and it seemed the cloths were growing wet very quickly.

“Hang on, Zane,” Lily said. “We’re going to get through this. I’m going to stop the bleeding and you’re going to make it.”

But Zane was fairly certain that wasn’t true.

He looked up at Lily and realized there was so much he wanted to tell her. There wasn’t time, not for all of it. There was only time for one thing.

“I’ve always said I am not a good man,” Zane said, his voice weak, barely loud enough that he could have any hope she was hearing him. “I think that’s mostly true. But you, you are like the best parts of me made even better. I don’t think I ever told you, but I’m very proud of you.”

If she heard, she gave no indication. She kept pressing more and more cloths to his chest.

Having said what he needed to say, Zane closed his eyes and rested.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lily walked toward the king’s tent, her muscles aching with each step, and her heart aching with them. After all she had seen over the past few days, all she had lost, the last thing she wanted was to be here, to have to follow royal etiquette and wait on the patience of her impatient king. But she had been summoned. To not reply to a royal summons would be treason.

She had no idea what came next for her. Everything she’d loved was gone, but she knew the next phase of her life couldn’t start with her committing treason.

As she approached the tent, the King’s Guards stepped aside, allowing her entry. A few days ago, when she’d come here, they’d been nearly rabid in their protection of the king. Even though she was expected, they’d looked at her like a threat, a potential danger to their master. Now they simply moved aside. Something had gone out of them in the battle a few days earlier. They’d lost something.

Who hadn’t? Lily wondered.

Inside the tent, King Edward sat in his tall chair, his brother Christopher across from him. They each had frothy mugs in front of them, and from the easy way they sat, Lily was certain those mugs weren’t their first of the afternoon.

The king smiled when he saw Lily. “Abditus Rhodes! Come! Sit with us.”

She hesitated, then made the formal bow required and sat down at the table.

King Edward said, “We have to leave shortly. We’re meeting with King Richard in Harken. But I wanted to talk to you first.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. There could only be one reason for meeting with the Taveller king away from both their camps. “You’re negotiating a treaty, Your Majesty?”

The king nodded. “Richard is as anxious to see this thing ended as we are. No one wants another day like yesterday. So we’ll meet, and we’ll each make a few trade concessions to save face. We’ll probably end up giving those damn Craggish rights of passage through Opel on trade routes. But we all want the same thing.” He paused for a moment.”I was very sorry to hear about Zane.”

Anger leapt up inside Lily. He’d sent assassins to kill Zane, and now they were suddenly on a first name basis? “Are you?” she asked, and instantly regretted her lack of poise.

The king met her eyes. “I am. I came to understand something about Zane yesterday. He was the type of man who did what he believed to be right regardless of the consequences. He trusted his own moral compass, and that’s a rare quality. I believe, in other circumstances, he would have been a good Sword. Maybe a great one.” He raised his mug. “Let’s drink to Zane Halloway.” He then did just that, apparently not noticing that Lily didn’t have a mug.

He wiped the foam from his beard and set down his mug. He was serious when he spoke again. “Lily, I’m going to be honest with you. We are in a bad way. The advisor I trusted most was a traitor. The Abditus Society has been scheming against the crown for who-knows-how-long. We have to dismantle it. Rebuild it. What happened with the Pruits is proof the abditus had their fingers in the Ferox Society, so there’s work to be done there, as well. The Army is depleted. Even after we declare a truce, relations with both our neighbors will be tense for some time to come. The King’s Guard lost over half its men. And we have no Sword and no Shadow.”

Lily could see where this was going. The king was going to offer her a position. Whether it would be in his court or as a stooge in his newly restructured Abditus Society, she did not know. Neither seemed very appealing.

“It is indeed a difficult position,” she allowed. “There is much work to be done.”

The king nodded absently. “It’s customary for my advisors to leave a letter among their belongings naming their suggestion for a replacement if something were to happen to them. You’re aware of the practice?”

Lily nodded, a sudden, sinking feeling in her stomach. Was it possible, after everything, that Jacob had identified her as his replacement? The thought made her head spin. To be the King’s Shadow was too much responsibility. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, and she was certain she didn’t want it.

“Between Caleb and Jacob, I have a terrible track record in appointing advisors,” the king said. “I hate Jacob for the way he orchestrated this war, and anyone he named as his replacement must fall under suspicion. But then there’s Zane. He left a letter, too.”

Lily was suddenly unsure whether she was about to be taken into custody or appointed King’s Shadow.

“Jacob told me something once,” the king said. “He said Zane believed the positions of Sword and Shadow need not be performed by two separate individuals. He believed that the right person could fill both roles.”

Lily’s mouth suddenly went dry.

“It’s an insane idea,” the king said. “Unconventional, to say the least.”

Prince Christopher spoke for the first time since Lily’s arrival. “Perhaps now is a time for unconventional ideas.”

“Perhaps,” the king said. “Lily, I’m in a bit of a dilemma. You see, when I opened their letters, I found both Jacob and Zane had named you as their replacements.”

Lily felt the words echo in her head, but she wasn’t sure she understood.

“If it were just Jacob, that would be one thing,” the king said. “But Zane, too. Two men, at odds ideologically and physically, yet they agreed on you. That says something.”

“She’s not afraid to question authority,” Prince Christopher said. “That’s a good thing in an advisor. She already knows the inner workings of the court. Plus, she passed both the ferox and abditus placement exams. I’m not sure that’s ever been done.”

That was a surprise. She didn’t think the prince even liked her.

The king nodded slowly. “Lily, we are depleted, and I need help now. It wouldn’t be forever, of course, but for now, would you agree to serve as my advisor? As my Sword and my Shadow?”

Lily paused. She felt numb. After everything she’d been through the past two days, was she really prepared to answer that question? Then she thought of Zane. He was the greatest man she’d ever known. He would have hated this position, but she knew what his answer would have been nonetheless.

“I need to know you’ll keep your promise to Ewrkind,” Lily said.

The prince laughed. “You see what I mean? She’d unafraid!”

The king nodded. “Yes. I’ll free the elves behind the Blue Wall. They’ll have their land in the northern forests. Half of the Crags is after Ewrkind for killing the High Prince, but the crazy elf actually seems to like it that way.”

“And those in the other ghettos?” Lily asked.

“That was not part of the agreement,” the king said. He paused a moment, then continued. “I’m not against having that discussion.”

Lily took a deep breath. “Then I accept.”

The king slammed his hand on the table. “Wonderful! You can’t do it all alone, of course. You’ll need help. Apprentices, perhaps? One ferox and one abditus?”

Lily’s face went pale. Being the King’s Sword and Shadow was one thing, but being a mentor? She couldn’t imagine herself in that role.

The king leaned across the table and put his hand on Lily’s. “We are going to do great things together, Lily. First among them, let’s end this war.” He drained his mug, then stood.

Lily said her vows and took her place at her king’s side. Then she followed him into Harken.

EPILOGUE

Bartholomew didn’t speak for a long while after Lily finished her story. He watched her eyes, usually so lively despite the ancient, wrinkled face in which they were set. She stared into the fire. Something in her tale appeared to have sparked melancholy in her, the same as the ember sparked the flames in the hearth.

He felt a little numb. He’d known Lily killed his grandfather, of course. But the rest…How many people had ever heard the tale? And how much of it was true?

Bartholomew was almost certain she’d forgotten he was sitting next to her, when she said, “I think time is a ferox.”

He didn’t know what she meant by that, so he waited for her to continue.

“It takes its payment in advance, the moment you’re born into this world of pain. It makes no guarantees. Its results can be guessed at, we all end up in the same place after all, but its methods rarely fail to surprise.” She turned her gaze away from the fire and toward the young man, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “And it kills—oh, how it kills—but it never kills for free.”

Bartholomew bit his lip. He wasn’t sure he understood, but he didn’t dare question her. His mentor was in a strange mood, and there was no telling how she’d react. He didn’t want to spend the night practicing his forms on the roof in the rain.

She sighed and stood up, her body creaking audibly as she did it. “I never was one to wallow, but I find myself dwelling on the past more and more lately. Maybe because there’s so damn much of it.” She winked at him. “Maybe Zane had it right. Go out as close to the top as you can. Though I’ve seen some things in this life that I wouldn’t give back.”

Surely Lily couldn’t have known everything she’d told him. Much of it had happened outside her presence. She’d said Zane had told her his story, but that was impossible given the way he’d died. There wouldn’t have been time for Zane to tell her the story is so much detail.

Something sparked in Bartholomew’s mind. He hesitated, unsure how she would react to what he was about to say. His voice caught a bit when he spoke. “My father told me about one of his grandmothers, one of the Longstrain pirates. Her name was Amber. He said she gave up her ship and got married. She moved to the forests near Gippen.”

Lily picked up a poker and stirred the embers. “Aye, I remember hearing the same.”

“Father said Amber’s husband was a tall, quiet man who’s hands were covered with scars. He said they kept to themselves, and the people of Gippen were helpful in turning away any inquisitive strangers who came asking after them.”

Lily continued tending the fire. “It is as you say. Strange thing for you to bring up now, though.”

Bartholomew wet his lips before continuing. “The man Amber Longstrain married…was it Zane?”

Lily hesitated. After a moment, she screwed up her face at the ridiculousness of the idea. “That’s what you ask me? After everything I’ve told you, that’s your question?”

She poked at the fire a bit more fiercely now, still not looking at Bartholomew. “It’s impossible. For Zane to survive the Farns thorn, he would have needed more than just a powerful tangle. He would have needed a tangle specifically designed to stop that exact thorn. Who would do that? And do you know how difficult it would have been for someone to build a tangle like that? They would have needed to study that thorn for at least a couple years. Even then, if it were made by a novice, the tangle would only have dulled the effect, perhaps caused the metal to merely rip through Zane’s skin rather than his heart.” She paused for a moment. “Allowing that, someone would have had to guess Jacob would use that particular thorn, that he’d known it existed and that he’d steal it from my tent. That person would have had to know Jacob very well.”

“As well as his apprentice would have known him?” Bartholomew asked. “And you had the Farns thorn for years, didn’t you? You could have studied it. You are known for your tangles, after all. Second only to your glides.”

Lily ignored the comments. “Imagining he did survive, someone would have had to rush him away in secret, and taken him, what, to Amber Longstrain’s ship?” She scoffed at the very idea. “I suppose next you’ll suggest Zane worked on Amber’s crew after he’d recovered. Imagine that, Zane Halloway practicing piracy, of all things.

“Then, you probably think he wooed Amber Longstrain, a woman who’d vowed to never fall in love again until she met her former husband’s equal. And I suppose Zane convinced her to retire from the Sweet Trade, to move to the forests of northern Opel where they could live out their lives in peace.” She poked at the fire a bit more. “It’s preposterous. I traveled to Gippen on a regular basis over the years—all on the king’s business, you understand. If such a thing took place, I certainly would have known about it. And I certainly would have visited my old mentor whenever I got the chance.”

That would have given Zane plenty of opportunity to tell Lily his story, Bartholomew realized.

He opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Lily said, “It’s idle speculation, and I’ll speak no more on it.” She set the poker down and turned to him.

“I’ll tell you, boy, life is a road that twists. I signed on to serve as Sword and Shadow on a temporary basis, but I served a good deal longer than I’d anticipated. I lost both positions and I regained one of them. I’ve been exiled. I’ve been accused of being a traitor, a schemer, a half-elf, and plenty more.”

She looked at him sharply. “You asked why I’m training you in the sword. It’s because I’m the only one who can. I’m the only one left who remembers the truths that inspired the silly songs. I’m the only one left who remembers the old ways. The Ferox Society is a den of petty thieves now, and the idea of legal assassins seems barbarian in this world that works so hard to pretend to be gentle and kind. The Abditus Society has grown bloated and pompous, barely teaching you the parts of magic that really matter.” She tapped herself on the temple. “The old ways are locked up here, safe from the modern world, but I’ll make sure they don’t die with me. That’s why I’m teaching you.

“I’m teaching you the ways of the ferox and the ways of the abditus. Not as they are now, but as they were when those Societies were feared and loved. I’m teaching you the things Zane Halloway taught me, and trust me when I say I have no greater gift to give.”

She smiled and touched his shoulder with a gentle hand. “Enough talk. We have work to do. Come, Bartholomew Longstrain, and I will teach you the old ways.”

NOTE TO READERS

Thanks for reading the Zane Halloway Omnibus.

It might have been a little insane to put out a series of novellas in a genre where a five-hundred-page novel is considered relatively short, but I’m very glad I did. I hope you are, too. Writing Zane and Lily’s adventures was probably the most fun I’ve ever had behind a keyboard.

Lily Rhodes will return. Her story is epic, and it can't be told in a novella, or even a series of them. She'll get a few novels, and they will probably be lengthy. Maybe these other fantasy writers are starting to rub off on me.

As to when she’ll return, I’m not sure. I have a lot of books I want to write in the next few years. If you’d like to see Lily’s trilogy sooner rather than later, please let me know. I tend to crumble under peer pressure.

If you enjoyed the Zane Halloway series, please consider leaving a review wherever you bought this book. Reader reviews help my books reach a wider audience, and a wider audience means more motivation for me to start working on Lily’s books.

Finally, as a way of saying thanks for reading these novellas, I’d like to give you a free copy of my novel Regulation 19. It’s a modern day supernatural suspense story. If you enjoyed these novellas, I think you’d like it. It’s my most popular book by a long shot. Click here to get your copy.

If you’d like to learn more about the Zane Halloway series, I made a video where I discuss some behind-the-scenes stuff, like my original plans for the story and why it’s called the Zane Halloway series instead of the Zane Halloway and Lily Rhodes series. Click here to check it out.

If you’d like to stay in touch, you can find me at:

My YouTube channel - where I post weekly (at a minimum) videos about what I’m reading

My Twitter account - where I mostly talk about books

My blog - where I mostly write about writing

Or, if you just want to say hello, email me at pt@pthylton.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

P.T. Hylton is a writer, podcaster, and instructional designer. He lives in beautiful east Tennessee with his wife and daughter. Check out his blog at pthylton.com.

Table of Contents

Contents

Title

- Book One: Thorns and Tangles

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Chapter Eleven

- Book Two: Swords and Shadows

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Book Three: Lightning and Thrones

- Three Weeks Ago

- Chapter One - Now

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Book Four: Flames and Water

- Twelve Years Ago

- Chapter One - Now

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Book Five: Lies and Crossroads

- Eighteen Years Ago

- Chapter One - Now

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Book Six: Crowns and Dead Men

- Prologue

- Chapter One

- Chapter Two

- Chapter Three

- Chapter Four

- Chapter Five

- Chapter Six

- Chapter Seven

- Chapter Eight

- Chapter Nine

- Chapter Ten

- Chapter Eleven

- Chapter Twelve

- Epilogue

- Note to Readers

- About the Author