Page 56 of The Cradle of Ice
Kanthe frowned. “Then who are you?”
“Ah, of course. We’ve never met.” The man held out his hand. “Symon hy Ralls.”
Kanthe blinked a few times, taking an extra breath to place that name. His eyes widened when it came to him. “Graylin warned us about you … before we departed for these lands. He said to watch for you. You’re part of the Razen Rose.”
The man tipped an imaginary hat. “So accused, so I am.”
Kanthe shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
According to rumor, the Razen Rose was a secret confederacy of spies, a group aligned to no kingdom or empire. They were said to be former alchymists and hieromonks who had been stripped of their robes but secretly recruited afterward to use their skills for a greater purpose: to protect and preserve knowledge throughout the rise and fall of realms. Some suspected their true agenda involved steering history, believing the Rose was the hidden hand that moved the gears of the world.
Symon was right about one thing. It would take someone with such deep resources to succeed in piercing through the layers of protections at the palace to reach him.
“But why are you here?” Kanthe pressed.
“The Rose is a prickly master, but we know when our thorns are best put to use. We’ve been shadowing your efforts here in the city, and though you might not know it, the winds are about to radically shift. Even with the Rose’s considerable resources, we barely had time to intercede. If you hope to continue with your mission, you must begone immediately.”
Rami had been listening to all of this. “So you attacked our palace to free Prince Kanthe?”
“Attack?” Symon turned to him. “Do you mean that clanging cacophony?” He pressed a palm to his chest. “Not us. We work far more subtly. We found this moment most useful to our own task. To whisk you out of this predicament. Come. We do not have long.”
Symon backed away.
Kanthe hesitated, glancing back at Rami. Despite the circumstances, matters hadn’t fundamentally changed.
We still need a strong ally in these lands.
“Rami…” Kanthe lifted a hand. “Come with us.”
His friend stared back. He had gone all stone-faced again.
Symon frowned. “We’ve no need of a hostage.”
Kanthe ignored him. “Rami, you know what’s at stake. Please trust me.”
Rami held his gaze for a long breath, then sighed with a roll of his eyes. “Very well. I was growing bored here anyway.”
Chaaen Loryn did not seem happy with this decision. He reached a hand toward Rami but dared not touch him. “My prince…”
Rami turned to his counselor and patted him on the shoulder. “You are welcome to join us, Loryn. When it comes to delicate matters, your mentorship is always welcome.”
“But—”
Rami gripped Loryn’s shoulder and stepped forward, leaving the Chaaen no choice but to follow.
Remembering his own mentor, Kanthe turned to Symon. “Wait. What about Frell and—”
“Your alchymist?” Symon waved them toward the door. “Who do you think roused the entire palace? It’s why we had to act quickly. Frell has roiled up a viper’s nest, one from which he might not escape.”
Kanthe grabbed the spy’s arm. “Wait! Can you help him?”
Symon broke free and led them off. “Not us. But there is another who is trying.”
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PRATIK KEPT NEXT to Frell, holding his blade high.
Together, they ran up the last turn in the spiral stairs that rose out of the bowels of the Dresh’ri lair. A trail of bodies sprawled across the steps behind them. Some dead, some moaning. Pratik took no pride in his swordsmanship. So far, the Dresh’ri had come at him unarmed. Down here, in a domain ruled by terror and alchymy, the scholars had no need to carry weapons.
