“No. I said he wasn’t disloyal. He swore his loyalty to his Guild and he kept that promise.”
Tain laughed, a bark of incredulity, as he caught my implication. Aven just sat, silent, malevolence wafting from her like a smell.
“I thought at first you were just a straight-up traitor,” I said. “Paid off by another country, some external enemy. But that wasn’t right, was it? Or at least, it wasn’t the whole picture. Too many things didn’t make sense. Why bother with poisoning? If your goal was just destroying the city, Marco could have killed Tain any number of times. But he was trying to put the blame on Talafar, on Doran, to distract us from a threat much closer to home. He sent a bird after he thought he’d killed Tain because that was the signal for you to come home to save the day.
“It was almost perfect, wasn’t it?”
Tain fell silent, his mouth open a fraction, looking between the two of us. Though she made no overt move, tension radiated from the Warrior-Guilder; she was a loaded spring. I should have been afraid, but emotion seemed beyond me now. “But it wasn’t perfect. You wanted us desperate and leaderless when you rode in with the army and saved the day. You wanted the Council floundering, forced to vote on new leadership, and who would they think of but their hero—respected general, highborn. You wanted them to elect you.” I laughed without humor. “That was the great, glorious plan. Aven rides in, clears the way to the city, then generously makes peace with the remaining rebels. I suppose the mercenaries were in place to make sure the peace deal happened at just the right time? Honor-down, you must have been pissed when you got here and found Tain alive and well, with you unable to remedy that, and the battle ending over something so completely out of your control you couldn’t take credit for it.”
“This is all very strange,” Aven said at last, tone cold and even. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to offend you, Credo Jovan, but these sorts of accusations are not something I’m willing to have you repeat in public. My honor is at stake here.”
“Honor?” I let my lip curl to show her my contempt, though inside I felt nothing at all. “You know, I’ve learned a lot about honor in the last few weeks. I suppose I see how you thought a great military victory would serve you well. But it looks to me like your backup plan was to ensnare Tain and take your influence over the Council that way, at least for now. If you can’t have outright power, take it by stealth, right?”
“Jov,” Tain said, confusion, shame, and anger warring for dominance in his voice. “Why are you saying this?”
“Because it’s true,” I told him. A stab of pity penetrated my shell for a moment, but only a moment. “Isn’t it, Aven?”
“You’ve lost your sister,” the Warrior-Guilder said. “So I assume you’re not thinking clearly, Credo, and I’ll overlook the insult. But you’d best stop now.”
I leaned closer, clenching my fists around the edge of the chair. “My sister,” I repeated. “I did lose my sister. Do you know why, Tain? How? Because my sister, my brave, brilliant sister, didn’t die of the deep cold. She made it to Aven and she told her what happened here.” I ignored Tain’s falling face. “Somehow, though, Kalina figured it out. And she sent me a message.” In my mind, I could still feel that feather, tickling my face. Kalina’s last words, etched out in the fletching of arrows, a bare code. “Did you catch her sending messages? Is that why you killed her?”
Tain circled around behind me, hands opening and closing, seemingly unable to speak. Aven’s silence stretched on, and Tain’s manic pacing, and all the while I held her gaze, waiting.
Slowly, she started to blink. Her cheek twitched. I looked pointedly at the teacup beside her. “Have some more tea, Warrior-Guilder.”
Beetle-eye had been used on prisoners long ago, before such things were frowned upon. It wasn’t a truth serum, strictly, but it acted a bit like alcohol, lowering inhibitions. I’d have used something more debilitating but couldn’t risk Tain ingesting anything else harmful after what his body had been through. I hoped it might loosen her tongue and possibly fool her into thinking she’d been poisoned. Poison had been part of her planning, but she didn’t really understand my world.
Now conscious of the effects, rage darkened her expression. Then she smiled, the menacing baring of an animal’s teeth, and spoke softly. “Such a clever family. But was it so clever to come alone? This one,” she jerked her head at Tain, not even bothering to look at him, “is barely standing, and you’re no fighter, Credo. You think the two of you are walking out of this room alive?” She laughed. “How did you picture this? Me confessing my wicked plans, and you two leading me out, chastened and chained?
“That’s the problem with this city, you know. Soft and rotten to the core. Forgetting that the military is what gives a country its strength. Just like you two.” She stood, graceful and sinister, a dark bird unfolding its wings. “I will have this city one way or another,” she said. “I’d have settled for fucking a weakling in the short term, but I’ll find a way of explaining your deaths, instead.”
But I hadn’t been so stupid, not this time.
Even as she reached for her sword, the heavy drapes around the room parted, and a dozen veiled Darfri stepped out, forming a circle around us, weapons drawn and pointing at the Warrior-Guilder. Hadrea, too, melted out from the shadows, her curved blade steady in her hand and half her face hidden by a dark veil. “I wouldn’t move,” I told Aven.
She did anyway, drawing her sword and lunging toward Tain in one agile explosion of muscle.… But I had come prepared for anything, this time, and she screamed and dropped the sword as the acid I threw dashed across her hand and arm. She fell to her knees with a guttural cry, clutching her burning flesh to her chest, and the Darfri were upon her in moments, hauling her back into the chair.
“Sorry, Aven, but no warrior’s death for you,” I said. “You’ll be facing the determination council, and they can decide what to do with the rest of your life. And don’t think we’re foolish enough to rely on anyone in your Guild guarding you in the jail; you’ll be guarded by people who know who you really are.”
Aven looked over her Darfri captors with narrowed eyes. “And you’re so sure your precious new Darfri friends will be satisfied with being ruled by a bunch of fat, rich sycophants?” She shifted her weight in the chair, adjusting her shoulders, and somehow she suddenly appeared more defiant queen than struggling prisoner. “I have friends, too, you know, who were rather keen on me playing the full revolutionary. You think the Darfri wouldn’t join me? They were ready to tear you to shreds and feed you to their spirits about twelve hours ago.” She smiled broadly at the man holding her left shoulder. “Wouldn’t you prefer a real leader to a weakling boy?”
Tain, silenced by shock, finally moved. He stepped forward to the struggling Warrior-Guilder, taking an offered knife from the closest man. Darkness suffused him as he stood in front of her. “You destroyed our city,” he said, voice hoarse. “You lured hundreds of people to their deaths, and tore the country apart. And you killed Kalina. You think I’m a weakling?” Here he leaned in so close she must have felt the breath from his half-whispered words. “Well, just you watch and see.” Quick as a snake, he slammed the knife straight through her right hand and she howled an inhuman sound of rage and pain, pinned to the wooden arm of the chair.