“I need to talk to Ghedi,” Nathan said.
“Ghedi went to bed hours ago, but his room is right next to mine. Across from Frank’s. There’s no way in hell you’re going there.”
“Look, I have to—”
The door opened, and Nic punched Nathan in the face, hard enough that Nathan saw stars.
“Look what I found,” Nic said.
Frank smiled from the doorway. “Such a nice wedding gift.”
Chapter 51
Cara ached all over. Her eyes were scratchy and dry from hours of sobbing, her throat was thick, her voice hoarse. She hadn’t been able to eat anything all day, and Vendla would have something to say about that. Probably at the meeting Pointy had called, in front of everyone he’d invited.
Had she made a mistake? Should she take it back?
Nathan had seemed sorry for all the wrong reasons. He didn’t understand why she was so angry. He wasn’t himself, that much was obvious. The need for substances overrode his common sense. To accuse her of having feelings for another man illustrated just how far he’d fallen.
Despite all the warring ideas and emotions, the strongest of all the voices in her heart said she’d done the right thing.
This was best for them both. Their love had been good, but Pointy was right. Six months wasn’t all that long. Cara and Nathan had never really had time to think about their relationship in Aelland. They’d never had the opportunity to talk—really talk—about their future. Or if there was a future to be had.
They’d been good together in Aelland. If they’d stayed there for the rest of their lives, they would have worked out. Yes, she would’ve been forced to give up medicine, but no matter the path she chose, that would be her fate. In Aelland, they’d have fought—all couples fought—but they’d have found the compromises necessary to build a life. It would have been an easy love, after all the lies and drama. Something safe.
But Mordoux had changed them.
Cara had evolved. Grown in ways she’d never imagined possible and had discovered a well of strength inside that she hadn’t previously been aware existed. Matured from the scared apprentice hiding beneath her mentor’s desk. She no longer fit in the neat little box Nathan had made for her. This path wouldn’t be easy, but she’d chosen it for herself. For the first time, she was comfortable in her role.
Meanwhile, Nathan had faced his demons in Aelland, had found peace as a physician. If he hadn’t come to Mordoux, he wouldn’t have reopened the old wounds, and wouldn’t have had to deal with his addiction again. Besides, he hated life at court. With her, he’d have no other choice than to submerge in the court politics he so despised.
Court politics that would become more vicious as they followed this path to the throne. What would Nathan do as prince consort? He couldn’t lead armies, he loathed the game, and no matter how many skills he might learn, he’d always be the foreigner in her court. Mordians were notorious for wanting their politics to remain exclusively Mordian. Except when it came to invasion, and Cara wouldn’t be that kind of queen.
Their relationship would’ve ended, unless Cara had remained a mouse.
She was worth more than Nathan’s divided attention, the leftover dregs from his need of substances. Didn’t she deserve someone who looked at her as though she were all they wanted? Didn’t she deserve someone who’d fight for her, believe in her despite all odds?
This was the worst pain she’d ever experienced. Worse than learning Frank was drugging her. Worse than Celestine’s lies. Worse even than having to leave Sera. But knowing this was the best thing wouldn’t fill the hole Nathan had punched through her chest.
Cara wiped her cheeks with her palms. Why could nothing ever be easy?
Pointy rolled into the tent. “Would you like a moment longer, my dear?”
“Is it time for the meeting?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Do I look like I’ve been crying for hours and hours?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed. “Not a good look on a queen.”
That wicked twinkle entered his eyes. “But fine on a usurper.”
“You’re impossible,” she said.
“Do you want to sit this one out?”
Cara shook her head. “Also not a good look on a queen.”
“You make me so proud.”
He led her out of her tent and into Vendla’s. Too many people filled the small space. Vendla sat on the bed, and Skjold lay by her feet. Amber sat in a folding chair next to Nita. Sven poured and distributed coffee, and grinned as Cara and Pointy entered.
“Hi, Sweets.” Nita gave Cara a quick hug. “How are you?”
“It’s good to see you.” Cara plopped down next to Vendla and accepted a cup of coffee from Sven.
“You look like hell, dragonling,” Vendla said.
Cara sighed. “I’d tell you all about it, but Pointy’s report ought to be so much more detailed than anything I want to say, so I suggest you all just ask him.”
“That bad, huh?” Nita’s brow furrowed.
Cara glanced at Pointy, who shrugged.
“Let’s just begin,” he said. “I’ve called this meeting to discuss our plans regarding the near future.”
Amber held up a hand. “Before you get to that, I found out something priceless today. A while ago, I heard a rumour about some sort of dig, but I’ve never been able to figure out what the hell this dig was about. Remember I told you?”
Pointy nodded.
“Well,” Amber said, “I’ve been following this lead, and finally found an answer today—Frank’s the one having something dug out. Ironite.”
“So thoughtful of him to prepare that for us.” Pointy leaned back and put his hands behind his head.
Cara fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. Hadn’t she heard something about a dig in the passages? Early on, probably the first or second time she’d gone. Either way, this was fortunate news. Something that had finally gone right.
“Where is the excavation site?” Vendla steepled her fingers.
“About a day’s march due north from here, chief-queen,” Amber said. “On the way to your ships.”
Vendla drummed her fingers together. “Can you get a message to the groups waiting for us? We can send them ahead to collect the ironite.”
“Will do, chief-queen,” Amber said.
Vendla gave a nod. “How much will we need to allow an entire ship to pass through the Mantle without harming the passengers?”
“We walked through with ingots in our fists,” Cara said.
“If every person needed to hold it, we might need too much.” Vendla pursed her lips. “And we have the bears to think of.”
“Could we fasten it to the exterior of the ships somehow?” Cara nibbled on her thumbnail.
“Perhaps,” Vendla said.
“What if we hammered it out?” Sven lowered his cup to the ground, then made arches in the air with his flat hands. “We stretch the stuff out into beams, then bend them around the ships.”
“A mantle against the Mantle?” Pointy grinned. “I like it.”
“How long would it take, though?” Nita said.
“A day or two,” Sven said. “Some time wasted on the beach, sure, but the time we’ll save travelling by water will be well worth it.”
“How many people will fit on each ship?” Nita asked.
Vendla scratched Skjold’s ears. “If we load them to capacity, about two hundred. Keep in mind, however, that each ship will already house about fifty Dvarans and their bears, and this year’s cubs—ten so far—will stay with their mothers on the last ship, protected by the rest of the flotilla from any possible attack. Each ship requires about forty crewmembers.”
“Are any of your people staying with Varda?” Pointy asked.
“Twenty and their bears,” Vendla said.
Nita nodded. “That should help. When the time comes, I’ll get her out of here, even if I have to knock her over the head to do so.”
&
nbsp; “Good,” Vendla said.
“So.” Pointy held up a hand. “A hundred and thirty Dvarans, hundred and thirty grown bears, and about two hundred or so from the resistance. Quite the party.”
That many? Cara’s skin tingled. The support would certainly make it easier to help Sera, even if not all of the resistance people were trained soldiers.
“I have twenty people in my group,” Amber said.
“Aren’t you connected.” Pointy’s eyebrows rose.
“You still haven’t figured it out, have you?” Amber laughed.
“Figured what out?” Cara asked.
“She’s Intelligence,” Pointy said. “Old guard, the people Clarity replaced. Must be. Which means Amber is her codename?”
“Good,” Amber said. “And?”
Pointy studied her with a hand over his mouth, then paled a little. “Can’t be.”
“But it is.” Amber’s blue eyes twinkled just as Pointy’s did when he knew something nobody else did.
Pointy snorted. “We’re what? Cousins? You survived.”
Amber inclined her head. “Your grandfather, my great uncle, led Intelligence in Collinefort. When Clarity came, I was stationed in Belle’Victoire. They began killing Du Ponts left and right, so I went into hiding, then joined the resistance under a new name. I’m the last one left. I’ve been trying to get rid of Clarity since, but you beat me to it.”
“From the countryside indeed.” Pointy huffed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She raised a hand. “You’re a Du Pont. You’re supposed to figure things out.”
Nita chuckled. “Nice one, Pointy.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to miss you at all, apothecary.”
“Time to get back on track,” Vendla said. “What more do we have to discuss?”
“Tomorrow night.” Pointy straightened his shoulders. “This is the plan.”
Chapter 52
Nathan’s knee bounced. The metal bed frame was cold and hard beneath him and poked into his thighs. The piss and sweat-reeking mattress was so thin it might as well not have been there. Not that he could sleep.
What was Frank planning for him? Would he use Nathan to get to Cara, or just kill him? Ashes, he’d made a mess.
He’d been so stupid. If Frank did kill him, Cara would never know how sorry he was. How he regretted what he’d caused between them. How much he wanted to redo their first time in bed, earn that little sound she made. All he wanted was to repair their relationship.
Regret meant nothing. How was he going to get out of here?
Nathan walked the cell again. The metal bars were thick and solid. None of them turned or wobbled. The door was locked tight, and he hadn’t found a stone that shifted in the wall, like the one Cara had used to enter the passages.
No smart architect would let an Intelligence tunnel enter a prison cell.
Except for the bed and a hole in the floor as a latrine, the cell was bare and had no window. It was dark but dry, and he estimated the time around eleven o’clock.
Footsteps scuffled somewhere, and a key turned in a lock. His jailer? Couldn’t be, it was too late. Who else would come this time of the night? Frank, to torment him?
Nathan pressed his face to the steel bars of the cell and peered into the passage.
Nic appeared between the shadows at the end of the passage. He glanced over his shoulder every few seconds and clutched something connected to a chain in his fist. He held his finger to his lips, looked over his shoulder again, and opened his hand. A key lay on his palm.
Nathan frowned as Nic inserted the key into the lock with unsteady fingers. Why was Nic helping him? This was the second time, maybe the third, if he’d been earnest when Nathan had hidden in the tent with Amber.
Nic turned the key this way and that, shoved it deeper into the lock and tried to turn it again. He gritted his teeth as he pulled free the key, rubbed a bit of grime from the top, and tried again.
At the end of the tunnel, something clicked. A sound suspiciously like a crossbow’s magazine snapping into position.
The lights went on, and blinded Nathan. He blinked and blinked again, then held a hand above his eyes and squinted.
“I knew I’d find you here sooner or later.” Frank stepped out of the shadows, wearing his most charming smile, as though the bruises on his face didn’t exist. His crossbow was trained on Nic, and three other men stood behind him, also armed with crossbows. “Your little act earlier didn’t fool me, old friend, though I do wish I’d been the one to punch him.”
Nic flinched.
Salamander’s spit.
Frank gestured at the key with the tip of the loaded bolt. “What I didn’t know is that you have a skeleton key. It seems Clarity was right to keep secrets from the inner circle, if the inner circle is keeping secrets from me.”
“Frank, I can explain.” Nic held up his hands.
Frank laughed. “What you mean to say, of course, is your majesty.”
“Your majesty I—”
“Oh, don’t bother explaining. I know what you were doing. What I don’t understand is why.”
Nic stepped back. “I promised Cara I’d get Nathan to safety when you wanted to kill him the first time. I figured that still stood.”
“And there it is.” Frank shook his head. “You finally admit you helped her, or at least knew what she was planning.”
“Yes, all right?” Nic inched further back. “I knew she wanted to get out, and I didn’t stop her. In fact, I encouraged it. I didn’t like what you were doing to her, or what I was doing to her because you said so. There’s a lot you’ve been doing lately that I don’t like.”
“You didn’t like what I was doing, so you disobeyed a direct order. Great.”
Nic’s gaze flitted around the passage, but there was nowhere to run. “Please, Frank. We can talk about this.”
“Talk? Maybe we should’ve talked before you betrayed me.” Frank raised his crossbow to his cheek. “It is nice of you to speak your treason for an audience, though. Fewer testimonies to fabricate later. With Intelligence scrambling to repair itself now that Clarity’s gone, I’m sure these good agents would thank you for not adding to their workload.”
Nic took another step back.
“You can keep going all you want.” Frank tilted his head towards Nathan. “It’ll just show this one that you can’t outrun a bolt. Because you do realise the penalty for treason is death.”
Nic glanced behind him, then paled. They all knew he wouldn’t make it. Instead of running, he stood straighter, puffed out his chest, and held Frank’s gaze. “Long. Live. The queen.”
Frank’s face contorted. He pulled the trigger, steam sighed, and the bolt crunched as it ripped into Nic’s skull.
A rush of memories twisted in Nathan’s mind, but he was calm. His hands were still, his breath regular, and his pulse normal.
Beyond the images of death and horror, one flawless picture came to him stronger than any other. Cara. Her smile, her skin against his, her honey scent, her apple-breath. Not a single substance in the world could match what she meant to him. She’d been enough all along. A pity he hadn’t realised the truth sooner, as he should have.
Frank bent to take Nic’s key from his still-fisted hand, then faced one of the agents. “Take care of this, won’t you? Make sure to put him where everyone can see, with a clear message that no matter who it is that tries to cross me, they will end up dead. I’ll be all right here.”
“Yes, majesty.”
The agents picked up the corpse, then left.
Frank leaned against the wall opposite Nathan’s cell. “Remember what I told you, Cutter? If you didn’t stay away from my sister, she’d get hurt. Well. You didn’t stay away. I also told her that she had to convince everyone she was in love with Nic or you’d die, and she failed, too. Sad, but convenient. If I kill you, I deliver both punishments at the same time.”
“Leave her out of this,” Nathan said. “She doesn’t
deserve to suffer at your hand.”
“Oh, silly. I’m not going to physically hurt her.” Frank chuckled. “I love my sister. I really do. Do I agree with her life-choices? No. But I’d never do anything to hurt her. In the beginning, I’d have let you go. No hard feelings. Yes, I threatened you, but that didn’t mean too much. I wanted to scare you into leaving, but I was never going to harm you.
“Since then, it’s become personal. Cara must be taught a lesson. She lied and played games with me. Then the hair with the letter and everything? It was brilliant, and I’m seriously impressed. Pissed off but impressed. Problem is, that little stunt cost me support.
“I’ve been working tirelessly to encourage the nobles to let me keep my new bride, and your friend Du Pont turned out to be the ultimate incentive. You see, Du Pont is a strong house, and the stronger the house, the more the other houses hate it. Celestine killed every Du Pont she could find, but the name is so revered, their holdings and land remained untouched. The nobles were too afraid of the branch left under the Mantle to move in on their wealth.
“When Pointy came, we could make the nobles believe the Aellish Du Ponts are harmless. He didn’t come in with the usual Du Pont show of power—just a pair of physicians and their apprentices. Why hadn’t the others of his family come with him, especially since he had a princess of the blood with him? Why didn’t he command a small army to keep her safe? Pointy didn’t take over Intelligence upon his arrival, didn’t even integrate into the network, and the nobles didn’t have to know that was because I barred him from doing so.
“Because the nobles no longer fear the Aellish Du Ponts, I’ve finally been able to use their land to bargain with my allies, I’ve divided their belongings, and destroyed their only remaining allies. The past three weeks have brought me endless funds. Sure, some of the commoners are loyal to Du Pont, but commoners can be bought. I’ll win them back in time. Meanwhile, I could marry Varda, and secure Dvara for the future.
“Then comes Cara with her braid nailed to my front door, and of course, the nobles hear about it, and of course, some of them are uncertain about my claims. Little Cara has turned into a bit of a threat. A month ago, I’d never have imagined she might just have it in her to try and usurp my throne.
A Trial of Sparks & Kindling (Fall of the Mantle Book 2) Page 40
