Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Siobhan gives a grim smile that doesn’t reach her hazel eyes. “I wouldn’t be a very good leader of the rebellion if I didn’t have a network of spies passing along information, now would I? A network that you have historically been part of.”
Maybe I was part of that network, but I only ever got rumors from people passing through. What she’s suggesting, being able to anticipate the movements of Cŵn Annwn ships, would be worth its weight in gold if the rest of the network was able to do it. I open my mouth to press for more information but stop short as what she said finally penetrates.
If she’s right, the Crimson Hag is coming here. To Drash.
I glance at Lizzie, expecting to see elation that she’s so close to her goal. She doesn’t seem particularly impressed. She drops into one of the rickety old chairs around the faded dining room table and crosses her long legs in front of her. “What you’re carefully not saying is that you need us to do something to that ship for you.”
“You were already planning on sneaking aboard the Crimson Hag and stealing back what was taken from you.” Siobhan moves into the dingy kitchen and pulls a dusty bottle of wine from an open-faced cabinet. “They have something in their hold that belongs to me. I want it back. Two birds, one stone.”
Lizzie narrows her eyes. “That’s a saying from my realm.”
“Is it?” Siobhan opens the bottle of wine and rifles through the cabinets until she comes up with three tin cups. “It’s an effective metaphor, don’t you think? Why make more work for us individually when we’re stronger together?”
There is something off here. I’ve spent my entire life studying people. In the few times I’ve met Siobhan previously, her body language was loose and relaxed. There’s a new tightness to her shoulders, an edge to her words. I don’t think she’s lying to us, exactly, but she’s very clearly not telling us everything she knows—or everything we need to know.
Lizzie examines her cup of wine, her upper lip curling. “If your information is that accurate, when will the Crimson Hag make port?”
“Tomorrow night if they keep their current pace and don’t have any trouble along the way.”
So soon. Regardless of how formidable the Hag’s crew is, Lizzie will prevail. She’s too damn good not to. Which means that within a couple of days, she’ll have reclaimed her family heirlooms and be on the hunt for a portal home. Her actual portal home was destroyed in a fight between her and Evelyn and Bowen, but that doesn’t mean the way is closed to her. Threshold contains thousands of portals on its thousands of islands, and even more beneath the waves. It may take some trial and error and trust, but I’ve no doubt that Lizzie is savvy enough to find her way home.
My time with her is coming to a close.
I feel the weight of her gaze on me, but I don’t look her way. I’m not certain I can control my expression if I meet her eyes. Not when I’m feeling so suddenly vulnerable and raw.
Instead, I focus on Siobhan. “I’m willing to hear you out, but that’s all I’ll agree to without more information. I support what the rebellion is trying to accomplish, but we both know my role to date has only been gathering information. Asking this of me, even with Lizzie involved, is asking too much on faith alone. So let’s start easy. What did they take from you?”
Siobhan hesitates, and for a moment I think she won’t answer honestly. But she finally throws back her wine and grabs the bottle to refill her glass. “They took someone very important to me—to the rebellion. They intend to bring him to Lyari to stand trial.”
A . . . trial? There hasn’t been a trial in living memory, at least not for a victim of the Cŵn Annwn. They tend to be of the mind that murdering first and asking questions never is the best policy. All they have to do is categorize their victim as a monster, and it’s well within their rights, at least according to the Council. Trials are reserved for nobles.
Nobles.
I narrow my eyes. What is Siobhan doing associating with a noble, let alone doing it in such close proximity that she feels obligated to save him? Or is it a matter of him having information that she doesn’t want to fall into the Council’s hands? Impossible to say, and I don’t think she’d be honest if I asked her.
I take a different route. “What’s his crime?”
Again, that moment of hesitation where it’s clear that she’s considering lying to me. Again, she shows every evidence of telling the truth. “Glamour. Using his powers to charm the Cŵn Annwn.”