Page 74 of Vilest Things
Her hand clunks against a cellular device at the bottom of the bag. It is small, like the one she keeps on herself too, tucked with her body stored in the last carriage, so she doubts it’ll work in the provinces. Still, out of sheer curiosity, Calla plucks the phone out and pulls the cellular antenna to see if it will connect. Galipei’s stupid thick arms make it so that she has to squirm against the guards on either side of her, and across the seats, Councilmember Mugo gives her a funny look. Calla ignores him.
No signal.
At that moment, there is another chirping sound in the carriage, though.
“Hello?” Mugo answers, practically yelling into his phone. His is larger, the size of his head. Made to pick up signal in the provinces and transmit all the way from San-Er. “Speak up. The cell towers are miles away.”
Every passenger in the carriage turns to follow his conversation. It can hardly be helped when he’s speaking at such volume.
“What?” He pauses. Before their very eyes, Mugo loses blood in his face, turning washboard pale. “Why would—goodness. I can inform His Majesty.”
“What is it?” Calla asks the moment Mugo hangs up. They don’t exactly have time to stop for Mugo to deliver a message.
“Councilmember Naurilus is dead. Murdered.”
Murmurs travel through the carriage. Mugo tries to lower the antenna on his phone, and it makes a sharp noise, almost snapping sideways instead.
“Has the palace caught the perpetrator?” Savin asks, leaning over from the end, where she’s seated.
Mugo shakes his head. “It happened a few minutes ago. They thought to call me first so I could speak to the king.”
Calla wishes she had kept Otta’s map on her so she could look more closely at it now. Though Otta used it to mark a location in the borderlands, the existing paper still shows the entirety of Talin. San-Er at the bottom, sticking out of the southeast. The provinces spreading past the wall: Eigi, encompassing most of that land border, giving way to Cirea on its immediate right. Cirea, which Councilmember Naurilus governed.
Calla reaches around the other guards and yanks the window curtain aside. Though there are occasional copses of trees, they’re otherwise surrounded by green fields. It isn’t a safe place to stop.
“We’re almost in Laho,” she says, pointing to the flat land outside. “You may deliver this news to His Majesty when we make camp for the night. We cannot idle here.”
Mugo puffs up his chest. “Unchecked disruption in Cirea could severely impact the kingdom within one afternoon. His Majesty should appoint a temporary substitute immediately.”
It isn’t Mugo’s civic responsibility to report a crime. This is a quick power grab when the opportunity presents itself. He already has Eigi. Adding Cirea would practically give him a small kingdom.
“We’re about to enter the Dovetail’s home base,” Calla warns. “Stay put. No temporary substitute is going to change anything about Cirea in this current moment.”
But Mugo is already standing. The councilmembers seated along his row cluck, annoyed to be jostled. “It would assuage the people.”
“What? Knowing that one useless councilmember has been replaced by another?”
Mugo’s eyes sharpen. Calla stifles a sigh, realizing she’s giving far too much attitude for Galipei Weisanna’s usual level.
“Look,” she suggests, trying to smooth over the waves she just made. “You joined this delegation for a very important matter. Wemustget to the crown before Otta Avia claims it. Are you going to put that at risk to handle affairs in the capital? If Otta decimates the kingdom, your very role may dissolve, and then what?”
“Do not engage in fearmongering over how the council conducts its affairs.” Mugo pushes through the carriage. “Please excuse me.” The other councilmembers call complaints, asking him to sit back down, to calm down, but Mugo reaches for the door handle, meaning to throw it open and force the driver to a stop.
“Stop,stop.” Calla rises too. “At least wait until we’re sure we haven’t entered Laho yet—”
Before Calla has finished her sentence, the carriage screeches to a halt, the driver outside giving a shout of alarm. She swivels, alarmed, looking out the window and spotting movement in the distance.
“What wasthat?” one of the Weisannas demands.
Mugo opens the door.
“Hey!”
Calla dives after him, pulling the councilmember back before he can step properly into the open. The moment she’s exposed, though, something lands in her shoulder and pierces through muscle. The sight of a metal arrow jutting from her guard uniform is more shocking than the burst of pain in her shoulder. A weapon like that must cost an arm and a leg.
Another arrow whistles through the air and strikes the side of the carriage.
“Shit,” Calla spits. “Getin! We’re under attack.”
