Page 6 of Wrath of the Dragons
The buildings nestled closely together shielded me from the wind blustering off the sea, so there was that small mercy. My first job was unloading shipments on the docks in Verendus that were rife with crime. It was easy to learn the art of smuggling and to steal contacts from ledgers when nobody suspected the gangly orphan boy to have an ulterior motive. The pay was abysmal, but it was enough to get me off the streets and into a room, if the box above a tavern that reeked of fish could be considered that.
There were days when I felt like the hatred within me was a pit of tar that I was forced to trudge through, knowing one day I’d eventually give up the fight and let it overtake me, and it did. The boy I was drowned in that pit, and the demon the citizens of Ravaryn believe meto be stepped out of it. Strong emotions often make people irrational, but I wield mine like a blade, ensuring whoever stands against me is slain. This world took and took until I had nothing left to give, and darkness filled the shell of who I was.
The shadows that cling to the corner conceal me as I push open the hidden door and slip into the stairwell that leads to the office that once served as my bedroom. Shouting, music, and clinking glasses penetrate the thin walls as I pass the main level that leads to the tavern—the front for the illegal betting going on below. Very few trusted employees know I own the Demon’s Den, but I take extra measures to ensure I remain anonymous to most.
Saskia wanted to invest in something more refined, but lips get loose when alcohol is involved, and not only did I need the business front, but I needed a way to collect whatever rumors I could. I bartended before my face became recognizable while listening for any murmurings about the lost dragon princess of the enemy kingdom, but aside from Elowen, there was also information to be gained regarding those in power. I knew Eagor’s supplier who sold him the powder he loved to snort, and throwing it in his face at the ball was well worth any suspicions it may have created.
“Gods, I love the rush of a win.” Ryder’s voice rises like steam up the stairway when he enters, and I continue my path up to the second story. “The hit you took at the end was perfect, but you really could have embellished how much pain you were in.”
I take off my mask and tuck it into my pocket. “If you think crying will help us then you’re more than welcome to trade places with me. We both know you’re better suited for wailing than I am.”
“Hilarious,” he drawls. “Firstly, I’m not ashamed of my emotions. Not all of us are perturbed by the notion of vulnerability. Secondly, you’d never be able to work the crowd like I do. They love me.”
“Well, I’m glad someone does.”
I shove open the door that leads to a short hallway and unlock my office, one of the two rooms up here. The other being the one that Saskia and Ryder shared, which was a nightmare that made me debateon more than one occasion if I should abandon them. The room is lit by a few lanterns and has no personal effects. All recordings of my dealings are kept in a safe at Veles Manor, but to keep up the front should anyone ever break in, records of the tavern organized by Saskia are kept in cabinets along the wall.
I grab the box of smokes off my desk before opening the shutters to the only window in here. The cold air caresses my skin as I place one smoke between my lips and another behind my ear before striking a match and lighting it. I wipe the blood off my cheek with a spare rag, take a deep drag, and tilt my head back to blow out the smoke. There’s some sick irony surrounding the fact that I’ve spent my life avoiding people and preferring solitude, and the one person whose presence I crave like a drug currently wants me to stay away.
“Nowthatis something I haven’t seen you do in quite some time,” Ryder says, handing me a vial of the antidote to the tonic I took to disguise my features, with a smoke of his own pressed between his lips. “Elowen has done a number on you, brother.”
He has no idea.
I smoked for several reasons when I was younger: to curb hunger, to mask the odor of the slums, or to give myself something to do with my hands. Some people develop an addiction to it, but I never have. I just feel like I’m going out of my damn mind. Thank the gods the sun has set. I need to see her, to talk to her, to find a way to remedy the rift between us.
A light knock vibrates the door, three short taps and then two separated by a brief pause. I step away from the window to let Alexus inside, locking it again once he enters. He’s a fair-haired man with stubble along his jaw and the ability to move around and obtain the knowledge I employ him to seek. There are too many people at the castle and the border to meet with my spies, and though Alexus knows how to get into my house unnoticed, meeting here is the ideal place.
He nods my way before taking a seat in front of the desk. “Sir.”
“I assume you have news regarding the nobles,” I say while taking a seat. “Are they gathering?”
“Not yet, but with the last of them vacating the castle, I imagine they soon will. They’ll most likely be working to try to find something to use against you or Queen Elowen to manipulate you as they did Eagor and Valia.” He holds up a piece of folded parchment. “I’ve compiled a list of the eight noble houses from most to least loyal based off of how close they were to Eagor.”
Alexus is one of my best spies and has been since I first became commander. We first met when we were both assassins in Verendus. We weren’t friends—the only people I grudgingly granted that title were Ryder and Saskia—but if we had any insight on jobs, we’d share it, as long as it didn’t cut into our individual profits or reputations.
“Seek employment in House Baelyn.” As I glance through the list, I note that Lord Xantheus is second to last. “He’s already proven himself to be vocal. I’ll increase your fee by forty thousand syndrils.”
“I’ll take the job but you earned my loyalty long ago. I don’t require more pay.”
I ignore his protest and continue my orders, “The first whisper you hear of a meeting or a possible revolt, I want it reported to me immediately.”
“I’ll go there first thing in the morning. If he’s just vacated the castle, there will be positions open on the estate.” He pulls a flask out of his cloak and takes a swig. He never drinks while on assignment so he’s probably getting the last of his whiskey while he can. “What’s your plan if they never publicly state their treason?”
“Elowen and I will do something to enrage them enough to reveal themselves, or we’ll play the long game, depending on how quickly this war pans out.” I put out my smoke and take a mint leaf out of the tin beside the pack, chewing on it as I throw on a fresh shirt and my black cloak that absorbs the darkness around me. With my hood up, my features are obscured just enough to not be identified, but I don a fresh face mask to be safe. “The nobles are sheep—they’ll fall in line when herded in the right direction, and if not, they’ll be sent to slaughter. With proof, nobody will be able to contest their executions.”
“I have the forged reference letter Ryder transcribed the last time Isought employment, so I don’t foresee an issue with acquiring a position.” Alexus rises from his seat, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the ceiling. “Gods, I hate nobles.”
“You’re our bravest soldier for dealing with them,” Ryder says. “I couldn’t do it, and I was born to.”
Alexus chuckles and slips from the office without a sound as I unlock the corner cabinet, pulling out a bouquet of purple starsnaps and blue irises I bought for Elowen earlier.
Ryder snickers as we step into the hall. “This is an endearing image. Maybe I’ll paint it one day to show children that even death has a soft spot.”
“Do you never get tired of hearing your own voice?” I lock up behind us and take the staircase to the back entrance. “Only a fool shows up empty-handed when their woman is upset. If you took notes, perhaps you wouldn’t be in a long-term courtship with your hand.”
“Yeah, well, let’s see if you make it to the ceremony.” Ryder’s laugh bounces off the narrow walls. “Before you get too close, make sure she doesn’t have her knives on her.”
I smile to myself. “I hope she does. It keeps things interesting.”
