The prince sat in a finely carved chair and propped his boots on the tabletop. “I have a theory about where your beloved Latch ran off to. Care to hear it?”
“What theory?”
“No need to sound so hostile.” Chadrech grinned and stretched his hands behind his head. “Be a doll and pour me some tea, won’t you, Fenn?”
Fenn flexed her muscular arms, as if to demonstrate how easily she could crush Prince Chadrech like a doll. But restraint prevailed, and she moved to the sideboard to pour three cups of tea.
Selivia didn’t want to indulge this insolent man a moment longer, but she’d made frustratingly little progress since she arrived in the palace. For now, at least, he was the only person willing to talk.
She sat at the table beside Fenn and waited as Chadrech downed half his tea before continuing.
“My mother’s stewards had a look through Latch Brach’s rooms before you arrived.”
“I heard.”
Selivia had searched Latch’s rooms herself for hints. Queen Rochelle’s investigators hadn’t bothered to put his belongings back in place after ransacking it, and they refused to let her look through the items they’d confiscated.
“It was mostly books, taken from a dozen private collections as well as Sharoth’s Royal Archives. Some very interesting books they were too.”
Chadrech picked up the Brelling journal, flipping through the pages with much less care than Fenn had shown.
Selivia kept her expression neutral. “Latch loves to read.”
“I’m sure he does. But some of these books were of a rather dangerous magical nature. Your betrothed was following a trail most people would say is better off left cold. If it were up to me, we’d have burned those books the moment they were written.”
“Many people are interested in the history of the magical substances.” Selivia sipped her tea. “Reading about it is hardly dangerous.”
“This one could be.”
“This one what?”
“This substance.” Chadrech removed his boots from the table and leaned forward, dropping all pretense. “I think Latch was on the trail of a new substance that hasn’t been used before. Not Air. Not Fire. Not Watermight. Something else.”
Selivia shook her head. “That’s impossible.”
“Is it? Fire comes out of the ground in the mountains. Watermight comes out of the ground near the sea. I don’t know about Air, but I’d be willing to bet it comes out of the ground too. If there are pockets of power all over the place, who’s to say the ones we know about are the only ones there are?”
Chadrech’s tone sounded a little too earnest for Selivia’s liking. He was serious. There was a distant rumble, and a gust of wind rattled the window screens.
“What makes you think this is what Latch was studying?” Selivia asked at last.
Chadrech tapped the side of his long nose.
“If you’re just going to tease me with vague hints—”
“Tease you? I’d never! I have come to offer you a proposal.”
Selivia grimaced. Maybe he was mocking her after all. “I already told you I’m betrothed—”
“Not that kind of proposal.” Chadrech adjusted the Brelling book on the table. “A proposal for a little trip. I may know where Latch went, and if he’s not back by now, he must have found what he was looking for. I propose we join him.”
“We?”
“That’s right, my dearest. You, me, and your glowering friend here.”
Fenn had started shaking her head before Chadrech even finished speaking, but Selivia was tempted. She was tired of pestering the Soolen nobles for information they probably didn’t have and being denied access to the evidence Queen Rochelle had actually collected. Selivia had proved she was capable of dealing with dangerous situations over the years. She hadn’t been put in charge of founding the dragon-riding program because she looked pretty on dragonsback.
But she also knew better than to trust a Soolen with secrets, especially this Soolen.
“What exactly do you want?” she asked Chadrech. “Don’t say you care about Latch’s safety.”
The prince examined his carefully manicured fingernails. “I want a say in what happens to that magical substance, if it exists. Latch has been sneaking around behind my back for long enough.”
“You’re going to be the king,” Selivia said, feeling queasy at the thought. “If Latch discovers a new substance on Soolen soil, you’d have a say anyway.”
“Latch is a Brach,” Chadrech said harshly. “We know how far his family’s loyalty extends.”
A memory of old Commander Brach popped into Selivia’s head. Latch’s father had been a distinguished man with a polite bearing and a ruthless, bloodthirsty ambition. He had nearly torn the continent apart in his effort to carve out a dominion of his own outside Soole. All because the Brachs were too far from the line of succession. “Latch is not his father.”
“Maybe not,” Chadrech said. “But would you bet the life of—say—that flying lizard of yours that he will remain utterly loyal to me throughout the entirety of my reign? There are ways, you know. Watermight Oaths you can swear to guarantee Latch has no ambitions beyond serving as the lord of Fort Brach. Do you know your betrothed well enough to make that promise?”
Selivia didn’t answer.
Chadrech’s lips twisted in an ugly approximation of a smile. “I thought as much. I wouldn’t trust him that far, either.”
Selivia was out of patience with the prince’s sneering ways. “If you know where Latch went, why do you need me?”
“I said I may know where he went, but I am not entirely certain.” Chadrech stood and walked to the balcony door. The wind blew stronger now, smelling of rain and lightning. “After a careful excavation of Latch’s book collection, I’ve narrowed the search down to two locations. I was hoping you would help me break the tie.”
“And if I help, you’ll let me go with you?”
Fenn stirred, but Selivia kept her attention on Chadrech. The light from the window cast half his face in shadow.
“That sounds like a fair deal, doesn’t it?” Chadrech put a fist over his heart. “I bear you and your future lord no ill will, but I must make sure Latch is not tempted to stray from his loyalties. I suspect you want the same thing.” He smirked. “You can even bring your fire-breathing lizard for protection.”
Fenn shook her head more insistently and nudged Selivia with her toe. But they didn’t have many options. Without access to Latch’s books, they couldn’t discover his whereabouts themselves. And if Latch really was in danger, he might need the guards the Crown Prince would surely bring for protection. Selivia might as well go too—and that fire-breathing flying lizard of hers could help if Chadrech and his men tried to betray them.
“What are the two locations you’ve narrowed it down to?”
“A stretch of abandoned silver mines fifty miles inland from the Ammlen Coast or Thunderbird Island, the easternmost of the East Isles.”
The rain started then, rapidly drenching the balcony. Chadrech turned at the sound of the water falling across his city. Selivia touched the letter in her belt and thought of the clue it contained. The answer was simple, really. Something had gone wrong with Latch’s work. If he was truly meddling with unknown magical substances, he needed help, even if it came from the Crown Prince.