“After you and Percy disappeared, I was removed from the academy. Two murdered cadets and two more gone missing, both occurrences tied to me…I lost their trust and was lucky to avoid prison. Instead, they expelled me, so I headed east to find a new life.”
Quinn had run the lie through her head numerous times, hoping to construct something he might consider plausible. The funny thing about lies, Quinn thought, When you commit to them utterly, you begin to believe them yourself.
“I journeyed to Port Hurns and found my uncle Weldon. He helped me obtain a job working as a handmaid for a local merchant. A few months later, my uncle received a letter from Master Sheen, whom Weldon had known for many years. Sheen had an open position here, so I journeyed to Sol Polis and began working here as a handmaid.
“As for the name, I made the change because I thought it best if Jaquinn Gulagus disappeared, based on my recent history. My grandmother, Glynnis, was a handmaid for many years. Assuming her name seemed fitting.”
Iko uncrossed his arms, his stance relaxing. “I find it odd that you ended up here, again with me.” His amber eyes stared at her, and she feared that he saw beyond her charade. But why does he not say something about it?
She shook her head. “I had no idea you would come here…or that Meryl was your mother. How could I know?”
“And, yet, fate brought us back together.” He moved closer, hope reflecting in his eyes. “Perhaps there is more to our story.”
Quinn chose not to respond, instead proceeding to unbuckle her other boot.
“Mother told me you saved her from an assassin,” Iko noted.
“Yes.” She continued to loosen the boot straps, refusing to look back up at him.
“Sculdin claims the man was the best fighter among the palace guards. He called the man a force of nature.”
Quinn shrugged. “I got lucky.” I killed a man…a fellow warden. I’m sorry, Wyck.
Iko snorted. “I know better than that. You may not be the best duelist, but you are tenacious. You are a survivor and have a determination others lack.” He turned toward the door and stopped with his hand on the knob. “I hope you will forgive me one day, Quinn. I know you think I am not the person you had hoped I would be. Perhaps, one day, you will see that I am that person.”
When the door closed behind him, Quinn stared at it for a long time. Her hatred for Iko was not as strong as she pretended. She had opened her heart to him and that had allowed him to hurt her more than she would admit. Time had healed that wound, and her feelings for Brandt had nurtured something else inside her, something that made her failed relationship with Iko seem inconsequential. Quinn admitted to herself that she had been attracted to Iko’s handsome face and athletic build, but the connection between them had been little more than physical. With Brandt, she had found a kindred spirit and a friend who had grown into more than a friend. She was comfortable around him, yet when she looked in his eyes or felt his touch, her heart raced.
Recalling her agreed meeting with Brandt, Quinn looked at the window and found it dark. She didn’t know how long it had been since the sun set, but she suspected she was late.
She scooped up her boots and slipped them back on, buckling them hurriedly before standing and shuffling to the door. After locking it, she opened the chest at the foot of her bed, dug out the rope and gloves she had buried at the bottom, and closed it quietly. The leather gloves were on in moments, giving her a layer of protection. Quinn’s first trip out the window, weeks earlier, had taught her a valuable lesson about rope burns and thorns, leaving her hands sore for days afterward. Unlocking the window, she leaned forward to check her surroundings.
The air was cool, but not frigid, with an easy ocean breeze. The garden, five stories below, was dark, the trees and shrubs barely visible in the starlight. She listened and heard nothing but the soft breeze and distant noises of the city itself.
Quinn tied the rope to the leg of her bed before feeding the rope out the window. She then sat on the windowsill and swung one leg over, careful to place her foot on the ledge below it. With a firm grip on the rope, she pulled the other leg through, got her footing and began lowering herself down, hand over hand.
The rope was not long enough to reach the ground, but it did enable her to reach the ivy that grew up the west side of the castle. With a good grip on the ivy, she released the rope. Her descent down the thorny ivy was slow and required care despite the leather protecting her hands and much of her body. The thorns were like small daggers, quick to draw blood. Twice she scraped her arm, and once she received a puncture in her thumb from the little buggers. When she finally reached the ground, she pulled the gloves off and sucked on her bleeding thumb while hurrying across the garden.
A guard patrolled the rear courtyard, strolling toward the barracks. Quinn timed her steps to match his as she crept toward the abandoned tower. The guard’s back was still facing Quinn when she reached the tower, opened the door, and slipped inside.
Quinn climbed the stairs, careful to avoid the loose steps, and found Brandt waiting beside a small glowstone that illuminated the heart of the room and left the rest in shadow.
“I arrived here before you for once.”
“I had a visitor who delayed me.” Quinn’s mood remained darkened by Iko’s visit.
“It’s not another boy, is it?” He stood and flashed a friendly smile.
Quinn stammered. “What…why would you say that?”
His smile faded. “Don’t worry, I trust you.”
He reached for her, his hands resting on her arms. She flinched when he touched her fresh scratches.
“Um…sorry.” Brandt backed away as if he had been stung.
She followed him and put her hand to his cheek. “No. It’s not you. I just scratched my arm on some thorns while climbing down from my room.”
“Are you sure?” She saw doubt in his eyes. “You are acting a bit odd.”
Quinn gripped his tunic at the front, leaned forward and kissed him. Her hands loosened their grip, her palms resting against his chest while his hands gripped her hips. When she pulled her lips away, she smiled and stared into his green eyes.
“It has nothing to do with you,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m just experiencing a lot of stress. I feel like I’m constantly dodging traps and pitfalls with any misstep resulting in a dungeon cell or worse.”
“I understand. My own situation feels stressful, and your role is twice as dangerous.” He nodded, his hands shifting to her upper arms, gripping them softly. “I have news to share – news we also need to send to the Ward.”
“Good.” She nodded. “I have information to share with them as well.” Quinn stared into his intense eyes. “Have you already contacted your sister?”
“Yes. I reached out to Cassie a few hours ago. She said she would gather the leaders and be ready after nightfall. They should be waiting for us.” Brandt released her arms and settled on a pile of debris. “I’m going to talk to her now.”
He closed his eyes for a long moment before speaking. “Cassie has everyone gathered. Nindlerod, Firellus, Goren, Ackerson, Alridge, and Delvin are all present, as is your brother. Kwai-Lan is away on a mission.”
Quinn considered where to begin, choosing the bad news first. “Tell them that an Empire messenger arrived yesterday and reported that the Hipoint Garrison has been captured. The Empire now holds Hipoint, but Varius and Kardan remain unhappy. They consider the campaign a failure because it cost them too many soldiers with little gained.”
She waited as Brandt shared the information. After a moment, he nodded. “What else have you discovered?”
“Well, it sounds like Sculdin is going to take over and lead a new offensive, but I have no details regarding his plans or resources.”
Brandt opened his eyes. “I can add to that. I was in Sculdin’s office today, where he was crafting a message for that Jarlish character. He sent a messenger with the note, requesting weapons.” A grin spread across his face. “The
messenger was heading to Corvichi.”
Quinn’s eyes grew wide as she connected the location with the man’s name. “An abandoned castle? Corvichi is where they produce the weapons?”
Brandt nodded. “Yes. It makes sense, too. I bet they have been using it for years. Hidden away in the mountains, they could have been producing weapons long before they began their conquest of the eastern kingdoms, perhaps even before they murdered King Talvin of Vinacci.”
Quinn found herself nodding in agreement. “True. And once they controlled Vinacci, they could add resources toward bolstering the production. They had flash bombs when they captured Cinti Mor, and that was over a year ago.”
“Wait while I share this information with my sister.”
While he closed his eyes and sent his message to Cassie, Quinn considered the situation and wondered what ICON might do with it. Her wait was long – minutes passing without any response. Finally, Brandt opened his eyes, and she found herself uneasy about the look he gave her.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, appearing weary. “We have a new objective. Elsewhere.”
“What? But we just established ourselves here.”
“Be that as it may, Delvin says it is time to leave Sol Polis.”
Her brow furrowed. “And go where?”
“I’m sure you can guess.”
Quinn took a deep breath, nodding. “Corvichi.”
“Yes. We are to head to Castile Corvichi, but it will be dangerous.” He stood and shifted closer, his hand gripping her shoulder. “Our mission is to sabotage their weapons supply by any means possible. We must destroy it all…at any cost. Until we limit the Empire’s supply of flash powder, we remain at a disadvantage.”
Quinn frowned. “After everything I have gone through to gain the Archon’s trust, he wants me to leave? Why us? Why doesn’t he send somebody else?”
“There is nobody else, Quinn. The others are all on assignment.” He stared into her eyes and it seemed as if he gazed into her soul. “This falls on just you and me.”
24
Misdirection
Quinn finished writing the note, set the quill back into the inkwell, and folded the sheet of paper. Wax trailed down the shaft of the candle she had lit, solidifying as it cooled. She picked up the candle, tilted it, and the amber-tinted wax dripped onto the seam. Moving quickly, she pressed the pommel of her short sword into it, leaving an insignia of a stylized G. Odd, but it looks more like a Q, she thought. How ironic, considering the sword, and its twin, were gifts from Varius. If she only knew the truth.
After blowing out the candle, she opened the chest at the foot of her bed. She grabbed the rope and the pack that contained the supplies she had gathered over the past two days before closing the lid quietly. With the rope secured, she hung the pack out the window and began lowering it hand over hand. When she reached the end of the rope, Quinn leaned out the window and extended to the lowest point possible before letting go. A rustle and a thump came from below as the pack hit a shrub and landed on the lawn. She closed the window, walked to her desk to retrieve the sealed message, and glanced back at her room one last time.
Five weeks had passed since she began working for Varius. In that time, she had come to think of it as her room – her own room. Until coming to Sol Polis, she had never lived alone. At times, it was peaceful. At others, it was lonely. Despite the tension that had accompanied her stay and the lies she hid behind, she would miss it in an odd, almost sadistic way.
With a sigh that carried sentiments of resolve, she opened the door and left the room.
Hargrove was on guard duty, the man scarcely returning her nod as she walked by. Still, that was more than Ydith would have done to acknowledge Quinn. Thoughts of the vindictive woman left Quinn regretting her new plan for the stolen map. It would have been a wonderful stroke of justice to pin that on her. Still, the new plan best resolves my situation.
Quinn moved down the stairs at a brisk pace, eager to be away before she ran into Varius. Bumping into the Archon would destroy her story, the meager one she had assembled should she wish to return to Sol Polis once the mission was complete. She knew her chance of success was slim, her chance of survival even slimmer. Yet, she could do some good if she were able to return to her old role as the Archon’s bodyguard – a role Quinn had sacrificed much to attain.
When Quinn reached the basement, she followed a corridor and stopped outside the door beside the room she had used upon her arrival at Sol Polis. She knocked firmly and waited, watching the hallway in case anyone else appeared. After a moment, the door opened and a young blond woman peeked out.
“Glynnis? What are you doing down here? This isn’t about your search again, is it?”
“I’m afraid so, Jeshica. May I come in?” Quinn’s tone made it clear that it wasn’t a request.
Jeshica’s eyes shifted, looking down the corridor in both directions before she nodded and pulled the door open. Quinn slipped inside to find a meager room, just big enough for a single bed, a chest, and a vanity. The room looked no different from Brandt’s, or her old room next door.
A glowlamp upon the vanity painted the room in a faint, blue glow. A cloth lay beside it, likely removed after Quinn’s knock woke the woman. When Quinn turned, she found Jeshica in her thin shift, the material doing little to hide the details of the curves beneath it. Now, I know why she hid behind the door. If I had been a man...
“Did you discover something about the spy?” Jeshica asked.
Quinn nodded, focusing on her mission. “Yes. While the search has been exhausting, requiring every bit of my attention the past couple days, I have uncovered several clues that converge on one person.”
Jeshica’s face paled. “Surely, you don’t think I am a spy.” Her voice grew frantic. “I would never betray the Archon.” She bit her lip, her eyes on the verge of tears.
Quinn put her hand on Jeshica’s arm. Good grief. She has changed much after her time in the dungeon. “Peace, Jeshica. It’s not you. I am here because I trust you.”
Relief was clear on Jeshica’s face as she exhaled. “Thank Issal. Who, then?”
“He lives right down the hall from you.” Quinn leaned toward her and whispered. “My investigation has led me to Ebran Pym.”
“The steward?” Jeshica frowned. “He’s new and mostly keeps to himself, but I wouldn’t imagine him to be a spy. He’s handsome, in a roguish way. But he’s so…unassuming.”
Somehow, Quinn was able to restrain her laughter. “That is even more reason to suspect him.”
Jeshica’s eyes bulged as she nodded. “Yes. Of course.”
Quinn handed the note to Jeshica and looked her in the eye. “I need you to give this to Varius tomorrow after breakfast, but not before then.”
Jeshica looked down at the seal on the note, her brow furrowed. “Why wait? Why can’t you give it to her?”
“Because I need time, Jeshica. I am trying to capture the spy and expose the truth.”
The doubtful expression on Jeshica’s face forced Quinn to continue.
“After requesting that Sheen send Ebran to serve the Archon in her chamber, I left a note there that was intended to flush him out, and flush him it did. I knew she would not be there, and I suspected he would take the opportunity to read a note sitting out in the open. The way he hurried from Varius’ chamber and headed straight for his room, I knew I had him hooked. Within minutes, he left the citadel while I trailed him discreetly.
“The young man is currently staying at a Downside inn, near the docks. I am heading there next. I expect him to catch a ship tomorrow morning, and I intend to follow him. Perhaps he will lead me to his superiors, and I can discover who was behind the assassination attempt. At worst, I have chased the spy out of the citadel.” Quinn gestured toward the paper in Jeshica’s hand. “My note explains this.”
“But, why not just tell her yourself?”
“Because I a
m afraid she will stop me.”
Jeshica nodded in agreement. “Yes. She likely would send another in your place.”
“I believe I can best serve her and the Empire by following this spy and discovering the truth.”
The woman’s face contorted as she chewed on her lip. Finally, she took a deep breath and nodded. “All right. I’ll help you.”
Quinn smiled and hugged her. “Thank you, Jeshica. I knew I could count on you.” She released Jeshica, but held her hand while she spoke, seeking to reassure her. “When I return, should Issal wish it to be so, I will be sure that you are credited for helping me in this endeavor.”
“When I give her the note…won’t Varius be angry with me?”
“I suspect she will be angry, but not at you. At me.” She squeezed Jeshica’s hand. “Claim to know nothing other than I left you this note you did not find until you returned to your room after breakfast.”
Quinn turned toward the door. “Be well, Jeshica. I hope to return soon.”
Without another word, Quinn stepped out and closed the door. She then walked deeper into the basement, past the double doors that led to the old section of the building, and down a long, dark corridor lit only by dormant glowlamps positioned at each end. She then took the stairs to the main level and slipped out the side door.
She paused for a moment, listening. A dog barked somewhere in the distance, and the crunch of footsteps came from around the corner, beyond the guard barracks. Hurrying, she ran along the side of the building and ducked around another corner just as the approaching guard came into view. She pressed her back against the wall and listened over the rasping of her breath. No alarm. He didn’t see me.
Turning, Quinn scurried around the shrubs growing along the castle wall. When she neared the far end of the wall, she slowed and began searching the ground and the shrubs. Finding nothing, she looked up and located her window. Where is it? She began to panic, thinking someone had found her pack.
An Imperial Gambit (Wardens of Issalia Book 3) Page 19
