Page 77 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion
‘You have many ships in the harbour headed to the eastern isles.’ Emrys’s words cut through the Lady’s mirth. Her eyes flashed with surprise before he continued. ‘Your traders like to talk.’
That’s what he was doing at the markets. Seeking information. Listening.
‘Maybe they need to be reminded of the consequences for a loose tongue,’ Sigrid offered, folding her arms tightly over her leather-covered chest.
‘There have been sightings of large fey groups moving this way. However, the inns and lodges appear relatively empty. The surrounding villages and healing houses too,’ Emrys continued his ruthless line of questioning.
There were stories in the build-up to the uprising of Reavers moving fey on ships. To the ancient islands surrounding Elysior. To places only the fey knew, that only their magic could access. Why my parents had chosen an island in the north.
The rebellion branded Reavers cowards. Nothing but street urchins, lower fey. Running when they should fight.
‘Maybe they vanished into the mist like in the stories.’ Lady Ramsey traced a finger around her glass, eyes calculating.
No. She was moving them to the eastern isles. Just as the Reavers always had. No matter the consequences from the rebellion.
‘Maybe they did.’ Emrys nodded in agreement, a strange truce as he perused the map laid across the Lady’s desk with ease. ‘Your Reavers have already been spotted at the south borders.’
‘I thought you’d be here to discuss the massacre on the western road,’ Sigrid interjected.
Emrys rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Unfortunately, I’m too familiar with a creature like Montagor, and his motives. The western road was a distraction, to spur the Council to gather. He’s up to something else.’
Lady Ramsey gave a small unamused laugh. ‘Blackthorn really did train all his weapons to be as sharp as himself.’
She cleared a pile of coins off of the map before her with one movement of her hand. Revealing a patch of Elysior marked with red blots of ink.
‘Montagor’s men have begun mining. Only broke ground a few days ago,’ Lady Ramsey finished, all humour vanishing at the same time my heart began to climb up my throat. Breath slipping uneasily through my lips.
Mining. The mines and the fey indentured to work in them had been the reason behind Elysior’s wealth for the upper classes for centuries. Only where there were slaving mines, there were always Reavers destroying them. How most of the skirmishes had begun during the Mage King’s purging of the east. Mines like the one my grandmother was murdered in. The one my father destroyed. Mines that were supposed to be outlawed – should have been for over a decade.
‘With who?’ I demanded, forgetting myself.
‘Prisoners. Rebellion sympathisers. Suspected Reavers,’ Sigrid answered tersely, her gaze pinned on my face as if the flash of pain across my features made her curious.‘Montagor has gathered himself quite a little collection under the Council’s watch.’
‘The mines were destroyed.’ A darkness lingered in Emrys’s words. The bite of his magic seeming to hum in the air. As if he’d seen to the task personally.
‘It seems Montagor wishes to return things to thegood old days.’ The Lady shuddered, using the desk to get to her feet, hands planted on its top as if she needed it for support. ‘I’ll never understand fascists’ obsession with the past. If only we could send all the righteous fuckers back there and be done with it.’
‘He’s looking for something beneath.’ The words escaped my lips before I could fully understand the weight of them. Why Kysillians had been captured and forced into mines. We could sense the darkness of Verr magic. They’d tried to use us to find it.
‘We’ve sabotaged as many of the new mines as we can, but it won’t take long before his work begins again,’ Sigrid spoke, words clipped with her disdain.
‘The rebellion won’t take kindly to your meddling in fey affairs,’ Gideon interrupted, his expression stern as if we’d tangled ourselves in a trap. ‘She’ll see it as a challenge.’
Of course. Speaking to the Reavers was working against the rebellion. The rebellion who didn’t forgive and especially didn’t forget.
‘Fuck her rebellion,’ Lady Ramsey answered, picking up a bejewelled cane from where it leant against her chair and moving from her desk with some difficulty. ‘These beings are mine to protect and I can deal with the Countess’s games.’
Her attention drifted back to Emrys. ‘Strange how the moment the Council crumbles, you come toourdoorstep, Emrys.’
‘The Reavers have always had the support of my house.’ His words didn’t surprise me – I knew Emrys had been helpingfey. However, assisting the Reavers was a level of treason against the Council’s false peace efforts I was glad of.
‘Yet they’re untrusting of you. Your dealings with the Council haven’t put you in good stead,’ Sigrid added, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
‘The Council were a necessary evil. They’ve finally paid their due,’ Gideon added, arms folded tightly across his chest in Emrys’s defence.
They’d paid it being consumed by that relic. Destroyed by their own greed.
‘A Kysillian in your ranks might sway their opinion,’ Lady Ramsey offered, eyes running over my features, amused by something.
