“They aren’t what you think.”
“Cold-blooded murderers?” I choked the words out like fire. “They tried to kill me, Derrick. My first year of the apprenticeship. In Mahj. They tried to kill Darren. They killed Caine, they killed others, they attack our cities, they…” My voice cracked. “They killed Wren.”
“They were after the salt mines, not you or Darren.” His tone was sharp. “If the apprentices hadn’t tried to play the people’s hero their leader would never have attacked. The rebels care about weakening the Jerar coin through its exports, not killing off its youth. Finding out a prince of Jerar was present though…” He paused. “Well, they thought they might kill two birds with one stone. The Crown is our enemy, Ryiah.” He exhaled. “You are just too blind to see it.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about.” I felt sick. Twisted, gutted, like it was all a cruel test of will. Turn my little brother against me. Make him the enemy.
It was the worst kind of test. And one I would fail. I couldn’t make a move to arrest him.
“They tried to recruit both of us, you know.” He sounded pained. “In Ferren’s Keep.” No rebel attacks in the north… I had always wondered why. “When Nyx offered you the position after your apprenticeship, it was because she knew you would be powerful. She sent for Ian the moment you accepted. His parents are rebels—” No. “So was he. He’d been gathering information at Langli, helping her keep track of shipments—but then she asked for him to help watch you. To test you. After your engagement to the prince…” He had been there for me. Darren had been right all along, just not for the reason he thought. “She knew they would have to be careful. So she called on Ian… And then when you continued to mope she decided to recruit me. She brought on Jacob since his father was already one of them.”
They were rebels. All of them. All quietly recruiting the lowborns to fight for their cause. ‘South the Snout?’ It was just another rhyme to turn the northerners against us. Why they had refrained from recruiting highborns. Even Ella hadn’t been offered a position—but Ray, a rank lower, had.
Derrick’s eyes met mine, and they were full of grief. “I didn’t know, Ry. They didn’t tell me anything until that first time you were called away to the palace. Sir Gavin’s unit is where they put all the new recruits. Take them on missions, bond with them. Learn their secrets and if they pass the test—if they choose one another over the Crown in offhanded discussions, she promotes them. And then they tell.” Ray. He was promoted while I was in Devon.
“They didn’t promote me or Ian, of course,” Derrick said. “Nyx needed us to get to you. You weren’t engaged with your unit. You kept training for that blasted Candidacy and defending Darren. You brought the coin, and I thought it would be better—you had passed a test— but then you withdrew again. No one could trust you.” His eyes flared in anger. “I begged and pleaded for Sir Gavin to give you a chance. But Ian wasn’t convinced. He said you were too close to the Crown. That it didn’t matter how much you could bring to our cause, you were too much a risk. That you would betray us to him.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“The bandits you found near Pamir. They were never taken to the prison in Gilys. They were recruited. Stationed in cities up north, given coin to survive.” My brother’s fingers dug into the straw. “The rebels don’t abandon their people, Ryiah. They don’t leave them to starve. They don’t punish them for turning to crime when the Crown turns its back.”
I forced down a deep lungful of air. “Derrick, the Crown doesn’t have enough coin, it can’t possibly support everyone when Caltoth is sending attacks…” My eyes grew wide. “The rebels, Derrick. Are they working with Caltoth?” And why, if he was a rebel, why was he telling me all of this?
Unless he knew I would never report him.
“Ry, Caltoth isn’t the enemy.”
“Then who is?” I spat the words back in his face. “The Crown? King Blayne? Darren? Me?” My eyes were swelling with tears, and I didn’t bother to hide them away. I wanted Derrick to see me. His sister. His own flesh and blood. “TELL ME, DERRICK. WHO IS THE ENEMY?”
I wanted him to face me and say it. Because I was struggling to name my own.
My brother had the decency to look shamed, his cheeks flushing that of a stained rose. “It’s not that easy, I—”
“TELL ME, DERRICK!”
“King Lucius.”