The Dawn of the End (The Rising Book 3)

by Kristen Ashley

  “Close the door,” the one still on the table ordered.

  Serena was not keen on taking orders, or closing herself in with the unknown, but these were gnomes.

  Not that they couldn’t be dangerous in their own ways.

  But they were known to act as spies.

  Not to mention, there were very few charmed folk in the Shanty at all.

  For unlike her kind, for the most part, theirs took care of each other.

  Thus, she did as told, her hand wishing her dagger was not in her boot, but at her belt.

  The room started to illuminate, albeit dimly, as the other gnome lit several candles along a mantel over a cold fireplace.

  “I am Welbrix of The Doors,” the one on the table said. He swept an arm to the one who was sliding down a rope attached to a hook in the mantel. “That is Galbdor, also of The Doors. You can call us Gal and Brix. We are spies for Prince True.”

  So they were spies.

  Serena did not move or speak.

  “And we think that troll guards the treasury of The Rising,” he went on to state.

  “This is what I think as well,” she felt it safe to tell them. They were gnomes. They were also, as noted, spies. And finally, it was not a secret all gnomes (and charmed folk, and simply Dellish), adored True. “And thus, it’d be good to overwhelm that troll, breach that door, and put that coin back where it belongs.”

  And it would be good.

  It would cripple this bloody Rising.

  She knew it.

  Her mother knew it.

  And that was her mission.

  She’d had a hunch that the missing currency was here, in the Shanty. True’s people had been searching for it everywhere.

  But not in the Shanty for no one went to the Shanty.

  She’d worked toward that instinct before her mother made the Thicket for the summit, and instead of riding with the Nadirii, she’d been allowed to stay in the city to work toward seeing if she was right, or wrong, and in either instance, reporting to True about what she’d found.

  “It would, but if we did that, we wouldn’t be able to identify and gather the evidence to try and then convict The Rising recruiters that scour the Shanty for soldiers and now also search it for their coffer of pilferings,” Gal put in after climbing back up to the seat of the chair.

  She watched him make the table and stand by his mate.

  When he did, she asked, “Recruit?”

  “You’re too focused on the troll, and you should be. He is a drunk, but he’s functioning. If our guess is correct, he has been kept in his whiskey and food and promises of whatever it was he needed promised by the insurgents. He will not allow that door to be breached without a fight,” Brix told her.

  “Recruit?” she repeated.

  “In the interrogations of the archers who sought to murder our queen, it was discovered that fourteen of the nineteen were enlisted from here,” Brix pointed to the table, meaning the Shanty.

  “They turn gratitude for treating their ill or offering opportunities to their children to allegiance to this Rising,” Gal took over. “But that is dangerous and could leave them exposed if not handled delicately. Especially now, as rewards have been offered for knowledge of just this thing. In our last meeting, True told us there have already been nine arrests across Wodell of priests of the Go’Doan who’ve been reported on by the people.”

  Nine arrests.

  It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  “However, they were smart enough to diversify,” Brix went on. “Therefore, they recruit from places like this. The disenfranchised. Those who have nothing to lose, thus anything offered would be more than they could dream.”

  She hated this was clever.

  For it was bloody clever.

  “As far as we can tell, there are four of them,” Brix shared. “Four priests that work the Shanty. They, like you, come in disguise. Perhaps at some earlier time, they were better at it, but in the now, although they wear rags and muss their hair, they wear good boots and they do not smell as if they have not seen soap for a decade.”

  Goddess damn it, once she’d spotted him, she’d been so focused on that troll, that door, its hinges, its lock, she hadn’t noticed this.

  “They haven’t been discovered so they grow arrogant,” she mumbled.

  “Perhaps,” Gal replied. “Perhaps it’s that this area is not patrolled by the city guard or any guard, and their generosity, which we have observed is not much, but it’s more than anyone here normally experiences…food, liquor, blankets, koekah, ashesh, taibac, smoke, they are grateful and would do anything. Or perhaps they do not disguise themselves too much, so the population of the Shanty can identify them as personages who can hold any promises they might make.”

  Serena found a wall and leaned against it, crossing her arms on her chest, her gaze never leaving the gnomes.

  “And they’re still at work even after True’s announcements?” she queried.

  Both gnomes nodded, but Brix spoke.

  “Once we reported our findings to him, our king has sent in others, like you, but they are men here setting themselves up to be recruited by this Rising. If this is successful, it will be a way to understand their inner workings.”

  Thank the goddess, this was clever too.

  “And that troll?” she pushed.

  “He must be guarded, but as far as we can tell, and word has it from an operative in Firenze, with the death of Carrington, they’ve lost their knowledge of where their treasury is. We had not seen it, but I believe that troll, that door, and what lays behind it, was known only by Carrington.”

  Which could be why she had seen no one get near the troll.

  “Until they find it as it is hardly hidden,” Serena drawled.

  “And thus, it needs to be guarded,” Gal replied. “And he must not be approached. He must not be provoked. There might be others about, keeping an eye on the Shanty and doing it much better concealed, or searching themselves. We cannot bring attention to that door.”

  “Have you seen that troll with anyone?” Brix asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Has he left his post?” Gal asked.

  She again shook her head. “He pisses by the door, and I would not round the corner of that building. There has to be a mound of his shite there.”

  Both gnomes curled their lips.

  “He has also not been approached,” Serena continued. “But it was not yesterday Carrington was taken. If Carrington was keeping him stocked in whiskey and whatever else he needs, by now, even a troll will become concerned Carrington no longer comes. Which brings another issue, for I’ve never seen him enter either. But if he knows what’s inside, and hears his comrade is no longer among us, he might help himself. I’ve noted those in the Shanty don’t concern themselves with affairs of state. They concern themselves with where they can find some koekah to sniff up their noses. I would not be surprised he does not even know of the executions. But Carrington not coming, he’ll find out.”

  “Just what we need, more issues,” Brix muttered.

  “Or we could be wrong and he’s just a drunk troll in a doorway in the Shanty,” she carried on. “We need to know what’s behind it or guarding it is a waste of time when we have none of that.”

  Gal looked to Brix.

  Brix shrugged.

  They both looked to Serena.

  “We form a crew,” Brix declared.

  Serena felt a frisson over her skin.

  A crew.

  She and Chu had been a crew, of a sort.

  A highly functioning one.

  It was much more fun working something like this with him.

  It was much more fun, returning to their lodgings after a day of working something like this and doing that with him.

  Life was just much more…

  Everything…

  With Chu.

  But she had lost him.

  Through jealousy and hate, she’d lost him.


  “One of us provides distraction, the others breach that building,” Gal spoke into her thoughts.

  Hmm…

  She had a feeling she knew who would be the distraction.

  “To keep my disguise, which I will need to do in case we’re wrong, I would have to fight pretending to be unskilled and inebriated,” she said. “Trolls are mighty, even when they’re deep in their cups, and they don’t know their own strength. He could harm me greatly. And trolls have cocks and he’s a he. If I bring myself to his attention, he could want something else, and not giving him that, and I will not be giving him that, I would need to expose my skills to fight him.”

  “Can you pick a lock?” Gal asked.

  She could not.

  Damn it.

  “You could teach me,” she tried.

  They looked at each other again, but neither shrugged this time before they looked to her.

  “True wants men planted in their ranks,” Brix shared. “We must wait for that. We cannot give any indication we know they’re operating in the Shanty. Once we have men covert in The Rising, we can launch the operation to distract the troll and get inside.”

  “And what if The Rising finds this troll and his door before we do all of that?” she queried.

  “Then we will have no choice but to tip our hand. In the meantime, you’ve established yourself here. You can help us patrol. We can divide the space, gather information, keep watch on the inhabitants, and meet here to share what we know and adjust our tactics, if necessary,” Gal said.

  “Team up,” she murmured.

  “Yes,” Brix agreed.

  Serena looked to the mantel with its five glowing candles.

  She wanted a bath.

  She wanted a bed.

  She wanted a decent meal.

  She wanted to know how her sister fared in Airen, if she was safe.

  She wanted to know how her mother fared at all, for she’d seemed better, but Serena sensed that was borrowed time.

  She wanted Chu.

  In all of that, there was only one thing she could have.

  “Do you know any news from Airen?” she asked quietly.

  “Why would we care—?” one of them started.

  “Her sister,” the other whispered.

  “Right.”

  “No, but we can find out.”

  She drew in breath through her nostrils and released it, looking back to the duo.

  Two gnomes.

  Her crew.

  “He’s become used to me being there,” I said. “I need to return. I’ll leave in the morning, ostensibly to find more grog. One of you can take over then. Instead I’ll come here, sleep a bit and then patrol. Is there a pallet somewhere in here?’

  “Over there.” Brix pointed to the darkness opposite the fireplace.

  “We don’t light the fire, just the candles. People in the Shanty might have candles, but none have fuel. The windows are boarded. No one can see the candles. But they could see smoke from the chimney, and it would bring attention we do not want,” Brix explained.

  She nodded.

  “We will get extra blankets,” Gal promised.

  She did not care.

  She cared about nothing except crushing this Rising, then doing whatever she could to help defeat the Beast (should it ever arrive), and then going back to The Enchantments.

  And with peace in all realms, she would train warriors in skills they would no longer need to use and…

  That was it.

  And that would have to be enough.

  No war. No death. No fights.

  No love.

  Just…breathing.

  “I’ll get back,” she mumbled, making a move to do just that.

  “Are you all right?” one of them, she thought it Gal, asked.

  She had always thought she’d been all right.

  But she’d been shown herself in a looking glass and she realized she’d never been all right.

  You could not be when you spent your life drowning.

  Drowning in jealousy and hate.

  Now she didn’t have that to sustain her.

  And she did not have the other, the other that she was given that was true sustenance. The kind that made you feel light and free, not burdened and empty.

  The other being someone telling you sad stories under the moon in the desert or holding you at night when they slept.

  Serena had been wrong back then.

  It was not unbearably sad the lady of the chalk fell through the nothingness, alive and holding her dead lover in her arms.

  Now she knew what was unbearably sad was having no lover at all for you lost him because of your own ugliness and spite.

  She knew what was truly sad was having been given something, losing it, and then having nothing.

  “I’m fine,” she said, hand on the knob of the door.

  “We’ll look in on you in the night, and I’ll find a way to signal that I’m taking over in the morning,” Brix called to her back.

  “And I’ll get some blankets and food in for when you’re here in the morning,” Gal added.

  They would get her blankets and food.

  No.

  She was wrong.

  She did indeed have nothing.

  Except, for the now, she had this crew.

  It did not make her feel better.

  But it was better than nothing.

  She lifted a hand, opened the door, moved through it, closed it behind her.

  And headed back to her doorway.

  97

  The Consummation

  King True

  Bedchamber of Sir Alfie, Birchlire Castle, Notting Thicket

  WODELL

  “We now have eleven priests arrested,” True told Alfie.

  “Eleven is good,” Alfie replied. “Are they in the Down?”

  True nodded. “Being interrogated by Bram and Wallace.” He felt his lips twist before he went on, “They learned much from Mars and his men, but they do not have the taste for it.”

  “Torture brings unreliable information, True,” Alfie muttered.

  “This is why Florian and Luther are interrogating them a different way. Though we do know they’re of The Rising.”

  “And how is this?” Alfie inquired.

  “They say naught but ‘long live The Rising.’”

  This time, Alfie nodded, before he asked, “And what from Go’Doan?”

  “They still await a bevy of birds, sending them and receiving them. Ophelia is long gone. Apollo’s wolves guard their temples. But in some places, their priests are prisoners to them, the people so agitated, they fear showing their faces.” True shook his head. “It is not that there’s naught I can do. I could send soldiers. And it leaves a bad taste in my mouth that I do not. But it is the only bargaining chip I have with them.”

  “No more temples have been burned down or priests harmed, they have something with these wolves,” Alfie replied, and a softening came to his eyes. “You have to do what you have to do, True. And this you have to do.”

  True turned his gaze away and slouched into his chair.

  He could not say he ever looked on with relish to the day he’d be king.

  But if he’d known how tedious it was, how rife, there had been times since his mother’s death when he thought he might have wished to escape it altogether.

  Though if he’d done that, he would not have found Farah.

  “News of Airen?” Alfie asked.

  “Nothing from Ophelia. But upon return, Cassius wasted no time. He and a good number of men sailed down the coast, marched inland and attacked the besiegers from behind. It was not what they were expecting. Especially with Nadirii in their midst. They were trounced. Slán Bailey is now as populated as Crittich Keep.”

  “This might be a quick victory, but it will not be a quick fight,” Alfie warned.

  “I believe he knows that but now the focus is on freeing Fern and, well…the wedding.”

  Alfie looked astonishe
d. “He’s prioritizing the wedding?”

  “He isn’t, Elena is.”

  Alfie now looked shocked. “Elena?”

  “Apparently she’s keen to have done with it,” True said, his lips twitching.

  Alfie began to look amused.

  And seeing his amusement, True’s day, which was not better than yesterday, not worse, but not good, was made good.

  “I can imagine she is,” Alfie muttered, but stronger, asked, “Has he heralded he’s prince regent?”

  “Yes, after they brought down the siege.”

  Alfie said nothing for a moment before he asked, “That’s it?”

  “No, he also heralded across the realm the new laws pertaining to women and sent word that all gentry must disband their standing armies. He offered all soldiers released from local militia posts in the Airenzian army or preferential consideration for merchant ship crews.”

  “Well, all I can say to that is it is a bold move, not to dole out the bad news over time but to hit them with it all at once,” Alfie remarked.

  “Cass leans toward the bold,” True replied.

  “And?” Alfie prompted when True said no more.

  “Nothing.”

  “No word?”

  “No,” True told him. “Nothing.”

  “They prepare to strike,” Alfie murmured.

  “Indeed,” True agreed.

  “That’s going to get ugly,” Alfie predicted.

  “Cass has a trump. Frey’s dragons.”

  “And is he willing to lay waste to his realm by using them?”

  “I do not know. Though if it was I, I’d be willing to sacrifice something to make an example.”

  “Indeed,” Alfie murmured his agreement.

  “It would be good this Rising was dealt with and we could go help.”

  “Give it time. I sense they’re suffering. If Serena and the gnomes can find this treasury and you can get a few men placed in their ranks, perhaps things will go much more swiftly.”

  True nodded.

  “Firenze?” Alfie kept on, and True was even more relieved.

  He seemed keen to know.

  Indeed, True’s relief came because Alfie seemed keen about anything.

  Not listless, most the time, or irritable, which was what he was around Bronagh.