Page 56 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
“So tell Tunier to make some adjustments.” The words are out of my mouth before I consider what I’m saying. Why would I even want to be front and center for this assassination? Damia only told me I’d be needed for the exit strategy, and here I go volunteering myself for the main event. Why? Just so I can prove her wrong about me? Impress her?
Obviously not. That would be ridiculous. I brush the notion aside as we head back downstairs and explain to Tunier that we want to include another name.
“Of course,” he says. “It shouldn’t be too much work to add a spouse’s name to the seal. They leave room on the bottom for just that reason.”
He gives Damia a wink as he taps the blank space beneath the ornate lettering.
“Looks like the baron’s about to get himself a pretty baroness,” he says with a grin.
His smile quickly fades under the icy cold of Damia’s glare.
“We’ll pick it up tomorrow after you’ve made the addition,” I say to Tunier. “As for payment…”
I look to Damia, and she produces the purse of florins Harman provided.
“Half now, half tomorrow, when we actually have the seal complete and in our hands,” she says.
Tunier looks to me. “I see now why you keep her as an assistant. She’s very savvy,” he says. “But I wonder if perhaps my original price doesn’t quite cover it.”
Damia stiffens. “I thought you said adding another name wouldn’t be that much work?”
“Well, no.” Tunier strokes his mustache. “But if you’re planning some kind of heist up at the palace that’s dependent on my seal to get you in…it seems only fair I see a cut of the haul.”
His voice is friendly enough, but I see the greedy glint in his eye. Anger brews in my stomach. He obviously thinks I’m weakened since the attack on Hallowbane—that I’ve been reduced to the point of being vulnerable to manipulation.
Well then, I’ll just have to show him that the infamous Corrin Wadestaff hasn’t been brought low. I summon my shadows, calling to them from the corners of the studio, only to blink in confusion when I realize Damia’s not beside me anymore.
No, instead she’s somehow vaulted across the table and is standing with a knife to Tunier’s throat.
“Listen here, you dirty little forger,” she murmurs as the painter trembles beneath her blade. “You don’t have the right to demand anything of us. We’ll pay you an extra florin for the new name, but not a coin more.”
There’s a low hiss as Damia’s serpent emerges from beneath her collar and winds its way around Tunier’s neck.
“Oh my gods,” he yelps, eyes wide, head frozen in place. “Get that thing off of me!”
“Thatthingis my friend Barb, and she’ll pierce your carotid artery the second I give the order. I’d give you, hmm…ten minutes after that—at most—before you’ve conned your last con.”
A bead of sweat runs down Tunier’s temple.
“Oryou could stop being greedy and stick to our original terms. Your choice.”
The woman smiles like she’s having the time of her life.
“I…” Tunier swallows, his throat bobbing against the scaled band still shifting around his neck. “I’ll add the name for free. No charge. Please. I didn’t mean any harm.”
“That’s very generous of you, Mr. Tunier,” Damia says, and she withdrawsher knife, holding out her other hand so Barb can wrap herself around the fae’s wrist, flicking her tongue happily.
Tunier sags in relief when she finally steps away.
“Let me make the change now; it’ll only take ten minutes,” he says. His eyes are fixed on Barb’s bright, black pupils, seemingly hypnotized by them. “Then you can be on your way. There’s no need to come back tomorrow. Really.”
As he makes the alteration, I watch the small serpent slowly slither back down beneath Damia’s collar. She pats the area fondly and sheathes her knife, a contented grin on her face.
She’s more than entitled to be pleased with herself. Frankly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so quickly reduced to a quivering puddle of fear. It’s nothing short of magnificent, and when those clever green eyes look over to me, I suddenly realize this mission might be much more fun than I expected.
Chapter 19
Morgana
