“It’s radio code, Pix—Your Highness,” he responded before wheeling his regard back to Evrest. “The kind we can be encouraged by, right?”
“Yes,” Evrest returned. “And…no.” He didn’t blink when weathering the intense curiosity that Brick joined to Jayd’s. “Tails is Fox’s radio ID, so the direction sounds like they are rendezvousing with his team. Since each team has five men on it, the fifteen is likely a reference to their strength as a combined force.”
“And those logistics line up with Jag’s location,” Iscah supplied.
“And that is another good thing…yes?”
As soon as Jayd concluded that with a heavy gulp, Brick hyperfocused back on her. A huge question still loomed in her gaze, but he couldn’t discern its verbiage or purpose. But here was a way for him to have purpose, without having to get close to her again.
“So what’s the not-so-good part?” he demanded at once.
Evrest responded by stepping back toward the electronic map. As soon as he swept a hand across a large black square at the edge of the heavily forested texture, Brick tightened his confused frown—in conjunction with Jayd’s and Iscah’s gasps.
“Creator’s mercy.”
“Creator’s balls.”
“What?” Brick prompted them before glowering Evrest’s direction. “What the hell is—”
“Censhyr?”
Jayd’s question was featherlight but strangled by agony.
“Censhyr.” Iscah wasn’t so pastel about her tone. “Of course. That is exactly where they are bound.” After words beneath her breath that had to be some unique profanity, she spat, “As transparent as crows after maggots. Disgusting bonsuns.”
“Disgusting but smart,” Jayd asserted, back to a doomsday glare. “Where else are they going to access a whole army, willing and able, after a few simple key turns?”
“What the fuck is Censhyr?” Brick leveled again, looking to Iscah now. He wasn’t sure if the royals were good for the answer, considering they looked like the revelation had confirmed a global apocalypse.
Fortunately, the tech specialist had kept her head. For the most part. “It is our high-security prison complex,” she explained. “While the palais dungeons are deep enough to be soundproof and secure, they were never designed to accommodate modern-day prisoners for long. Nothing beyond basic lighting, plumbing, and alarmed egress doors have been installed down there.”
“So you went ground-up on a better facility outside of town.” He nodded at Evrest. “Smart move.”
While the monarch accepted his compliment with a matching dip of his head, Evrest didn’t surrender his tense posture and clenched jaw.
“Of course. Very smart,” the man growled. “Unless a loose cannon courtier with intimate knowledge of the place has become one’s sworn opponent.”
All at once, the guy’s behavior wasn’t such a mystery.
Though damn, how Brick wished it still was.
“Just how intimate?” he bit out.
Even after a taut huff, Iscah beat her king on the answer. “He will certainly not have to toss pebbles at the window to get in.”
“And once he does that, more doors will open.” The terse addendum belonged to Jayd. “Since the Pura regard themselves above the law, many of them have landed on the other side of it.”
Brick cocked his head beneath the weight of full comprehension. “And, therefore, have written their own tickets into Censhyr.”
“Where shrines to Carris have become more popular than passwords to porn streams,” Iscah muttered.
Brick grinded his teeth until his skull rattled. “Altars erected between hours of boredom, anger, and extensive training time.”
“The ideal recipe for an insurrection,” Evrest added from his own locked teeth.
“Just shake and serve,” Jayd contributed. “No need to add water or stir.”
“Fuck,” Brick spat.
“They need to hold those bonsuns back,” Iscah muttered. As if knowing she’d stated the obvious, or in an effort to blow off nervous energy, she rechecked her monitors with some nervous dial twists and mouse clicks. “If they step foot inside that prison—”
“We are aware, Iscah.” Jayd twisted her fingers and compressed her lips. “Merderim for being concerned,” she muttered. “But we—”
“Do have three units deployed against their one.” Evrest’s statement probably wasn’t what she’d had planned, but Jayd stepped back as if relieved for the new motivation. “So the odds are looking good, I promise.”
Pleasant shocker: Iscah actually grinned about that. But her impish expression only lasted a few seconds, since the guys on the front fired up the radio feed again.
“This is Tails, reporting in.” Jagger Fox’s hail was clipped but strong over the line. “The poker room is full. Wizard and Greenbeard are checking out the rest of the casino.”
Evrest visibly eased. “They have successfully joined up,” he said.
“But they can still see Carris’s squad too?” Brick cut in. “Am I hearing that correctly?”
No more than two seconds of fuzz passed by before a separate radio clicked into the exchange.
“Tails, Command copies the update. Fine work from all of you.” The praise sounded somewhat strange, but it didn’t take Brick long to know why. While he was sure Samsyn Cimarron had a Build-a-Bear side somewhere, he’d been certain the guy’s public façade was a hundred percent pissed-off grizzly. Thank God the bear himself was all-in for letting everyone process that for a second before pushing his comm button again. “Are the toolbelts still on premises in the casino? I repeat, how many tools are visible for you?”
Brick pinched a couple of fingers over his mouth, stifling the burst of his snicker. Some things were so good, they didn’t need translation.
The same mild mirth permeated Jagger’s calm reply. “Command, we have all the tools in the casino. Repeat, we have eyes on all nine tools.”
“Excellent,” Samsyn responded, this time with an unmistakable undertone of dark mirth. “Keep it that way.”
“Roger that, Command. Down to every last man here.”
Jag’s confident comeback brought a swell of pride to every Arcadian in the room, but none more radiant than the glow that emanated from Jayd. But all too quickly, her effusive smirk faded. Her gaze was a fresh collision of concern.
“Brickham. Do you think—”
“They have it well in hand, fembla.” Evrest’s snap made no secret of his irritation. While Brick didn’t blame the guy—after all, he’d likely been the one on top of the pedestal from his fun little metaphor—the move was damn near worthy of an eye roll.
Breathe in and chill out, king brother. Won’t be long before you’re first fiddle in little fembla’s esteem again.
His private fume made it doubly satisfying to watch Jayd’s viewable one. “I was only wondering, if Trystan himself decided to lead that battalion—”
“I said already that Jagger, Ozias, and Grenier have an excellent handle on the situation.” Evrest went stiff in the spine and completely coiled with his fists. “They have been trained by your own brother and seasoned in many field operations. You must trust that—”