Page 28 of The Flame and the Forsaken

“And the rest of us?” Augustine asked. “We’re nay locked away. Nothing stopping us from learning about the change.”

“Mariel is right,” Remy said. He dragged his knuckles along the knotted wood of his rickety table, the uneven legs knocking against the ground. “The Flame is the leader of Obsidian Sky. Everyone knows it. They’d never assume we would move forward on such a big heist without our leader.”

“That doesnae make it a good idea,” Alessia said. “We donnae even ken who this man, Banner, is. Where in Sandymount the gold is being held. We knownothingexcept a name and a date, and...” She groaned, pulling her hands down her tired face. “I want to help him too, Mar. I do. And I want to stick my dagger straight through the eyeballs of every last feckin’ man participating in this bloody farce. But I have to think of my ailing mother, who would die without my aid. I cannae get sent away. I’m out.” She leaped down and gave Mariel’s shoulder a squeeze, dipping low to kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

Mariel flinched when the door closed. She wanted badly to cry, mostly from frustration, but tears had a way of manipulating those around her. If Remy and Augustine agreed, they would do it because they believed it was right, not because she’d struck at their hearts. “I don’t expect the two of you to risk your necks for Destin or for me. But I’m going. And you can come or you can stay, but if something happens to me...” She choked down another surge of emotion. Only in decisive action was there purpose or absolution waiting. “Please don’t give up on him. Promise me?”

Remy sighed, shaking his head at the table. “And what are you going to do when you meet this Banner, Mar? Say? He’ll be well guarded.”

“Not if he’s at his own home, he won’t. I just need to catch him at the right time.”

“And when you do? You still have to convince him to take you to the gold. You still have togetthe gold, whichwillbe under guard.”

Mariel appreciated their routines and traditions, but she’d always been keener on improvisation. If she was too reliant on the effectiveness of a plan, she wasn’t thinking about the dozens of other outcomes, which meant she’d be ready for none. “I’ll know what to say when I get there.Heis the one who will have to get creative, for I’ll make sure he knows what will happen if he doesn’t.”

“You don’t even have your mask. Give Auggie an hour to stitch one?—”

“I can’t wait an hour, Remy. I’ll borrow one of yours.”

“Not mine. I’m nay letting you walk into this mess alone.” Augustine tightened the wad of braids on her head and stood. “Give me a moment to change into some of Remy’s shabby clothes, and we’ll leave straightaway.”

She disappeared into the back room, leaving Mariel and Remy alone.

“I know the plan is weak,” she said, sighing. “I’ll shore it up on the ride. There’s no other way.”

“We’ll stop and see Magnur on our way out of town. He doesn’t have to come, but he needs to know where we’ve gone, in case things go sideways,” he said. “So he has time to run, same as Alessia.”

Mariel brightened in surprise. “You’re coming?”

“Am I coming? Really?” He smiled wryly. “It was you and I who conceived of this whole thing, Mar. Auggie, Des, they went along with it for us, but you and me... This isourshow. The Flame and the Tactician. So it was then, so it is now.” He pushed back. “If this is to be the end, then it should be us. To the bitter or not-so-bitter finale.”

Erran watchedMariel enter a blacksmith shop along the main stretch of Whitecliffe proper, just west of the grand fountain. She’d been in there nearly a half tick of the sun while he waited in an alleyway, trying to keep the horse he’d borrowed from the workers’ stables, Vesper, from reacting to every person who passed. If he’d taken his own mare, others might suspect he’d gone to free Destin. That she rented a horse herself was further evidence of her intention.

He hadn’t. Not yet at least. First he wanted to see ifshewould try.

But the North Farthing jail was... north, and Mariel had gone into the village. Stopping at the banker’s first would make sense, for bonds on incarcerated brigands had become exorbitant, but he couldn’t guess what urgent business she might have with a blacksmith.

Certainly she didn’t intend tostormthe jail, sword swinging.

Did she?

The idea was preposterous. But then, so was following her. She’d made it clear she had a right to her own life, and he had no quarrel with that in theory, but his gut was telling him—no,screamingat him—that she was headed toward danger. Erran had learned when he was a boy to listen to his instincts. He couldn’t recall a time when they’d ever been wrong. While no one had outright called his special “knack” magic, he suspected he had some in him. But as he had no intention of being shipped off to the Sepulchre for years of formal instruction under the magi, he kept his suspicion to himself.

As much as he trusted his intuition, he needed someone else’s to either give credence or discourage him from something that might make their tenuous marriage even worse.

The inn where Samuel and his father were staying for their visit was just around the corner. They were still in town for another week, but Samuel’s father would likely already be on his way to Sandymount for the auction.

His friend’s wisdom was exactly what Erran needed, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off the blacksmith shop, so he flagged down a young boy selling apples.

“There’s fifty coins in it for you if watch this shop and come get me at Farthingale Inn if anyone steps out of those doors, particularly a young woman with long, dark hair.” Thinking further about it, he also said, “Another fifty if you cansubtlyfind out what she’s doing in there without her the wiser.”

“Aye, and will it get me in trouble?” the boy asked, and Erran could see it was going to cost him more than a hundred coin, that the boy had taken one look at his silver-threaded jacket and bespoke boots and clocked him for someone who could do much better than that.

“Two hundred, but if you tell a single soul, I’ll find you and gut you like a fish.” Erran would do no such thing, but he hoped his menacing scowl was enough to settle the matter.

The boy’s eyes lit up. He abandoned his apple crate and held out his hand.

“Half now, half when I get back,” Erran said, depositing the coin. “And keep an eye on my horse, will you? Tether her to a post before you head inside.”

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