Declan pulled a copper sphere from the corner of his desk and tapped it. The sphere cracked in the middle. The two halves slid apart, revealing a pale crystal. A spark of light flared within the crystalline depths and streamed in a ray of light to form a map six inches above the sphere.
“Louisiana. Border. Mire.” Declan pronounced the words with crisp exactness. The map centered on the green blob of the Mire where it touched the border of the Louisiana.
“Kasis,” Declan said.
The map remained where it was.
“Blasted thing. Kasis Castle.”
The map slid to the Adrianglian border. A small dot of white glow flared on the boundary and grew into a gray castle. Declan scowled at it. “I’ve had a run-in with Antoine de Kasis before. The de Kasis family has treaties in place with both the Gauls and us that keep them out of our border squabbles. They were put in place a century ago due to some classified service the family provided to both Louisiana and Adrianglia. I never could find out what exactly they did. The treaties forbid any sort of military action on their land. The price of this sweet deal is complete neutrality from the Kasis family: they can’t aid either Louisiana or Adrianglia.”
William nodded. “I wondered why the Mirror didn’t just walk me into the Mire through Kasis. Now I know.”
“There is another reason. Antoine de Kasis is dirty. He’s a Louisiana sympathizer, and he’s very useful to them. His lands are the only way into the Mire without the bother of dealing with the Louisiana border guard. The Mirror has to suspect he’s dirty, because if I know, they definitely know. However, they lack proof of his involvement. If they’re holding the girl’s father there, it’s likely he’s guarded by the Hand’s agents, which would implicate Antoine. The Mirror won’t like invading Kasis for two reasons. First, they know Antoine is dirty and they observe him in order to gather intelligence on the Hand’s movements. If they take him out, there goes their chance to spy on the Hand. Second, if the Hand isn’t there for some reason and if the Mirror’s agents don’t find any clear-cut proof of Antoine’s involvement with the Gauls, invading Kasis would cause an international incident of huge proportions.”
William nodded again. “I have it figured out. I will use the journal as leverage.”
“That’s a really dangerous game to play,” Declan said. “If you get burned, William, there is nothing any of us can do.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“My job is to warn. Here is the interesting thing. According to the treaties, if de Kasis is found to have violated his agreements, the realm that proves his wrongdoing gets to confiscate his lands. There isn’t much land there, but whatever there is will become the property of Adrianglia. You need to buy that land from the government. They wouldn’t sell it to you normally, so you have to make that part of your deal with the Mirror. It will give you access to the Mire, and you can smuggle your girl and her family out.”
William exhaled. “So all I need is to get the money to buy the place. Borrow it, steal it ...”
Declan stared at him.
“What?”
Declan braided the fingers of his hands. “Borrow it?”
William shrugged.
“When Casshorn died, his possessions passed to you. You’re his adopted son and his only heir. You own two castles, half of the Darkwood, a forty-mile stretch of Darron River, for the use of which you charge the shipping companies a sizable toll, and the land on which the city of Blueshire sits. They pay you rent. Why the devil would you need to borrow the money, you dumb bastard? You’re richer than I am.”
William’s brain screeched to a halt.
Declan got up. “While you had your two-year-long pity party and hid out in a shitty trailer, playing with your toys and drinking beer, I had to take care of your financials. And if you think I don’t have my own shit to deal with, you’re sadly mistaken.” He pulled several large ledgers from the shelf and dropped them in a stack on the table. “There you go. All yours now, Lord William Sandine. Have a go at it. Don’t spend it all in one place and hire somebody good with money to manage it for you.”
WILLIAM sat alone in the silence of Declan’s library. It had been twenty-four hours since he made the call to Erwin through Declan’s scryer unit. He’d outlined the details of the deal. Erwin said nothing. He simply bowed and severed the connection.
Declan insisted on both him and the kid staying in the manor, reasoning that if the Mirror didn’t like the deal, they would be more reluctant to rain hellfire and meteorites upon the house of the Marshal. He even deployed his most effective weapon, in case things went really sour—two hours after the scrying took place, the carriage of the Duchess of the Southern Provinces pulled up to the front gates. William had met the Duchess before. He would rather go up barehanded against a rabid bear.
The ache inside his chest gnawed on him. It started when he woke up and found out Cerise had left him. Over the next few days it grew stronger and stronger. She had left him. The rational part of him reassured him that she had done it to save him. But the rational part of him grew weaker and weaker. She had left him. Like so many people before. Even if everything went his way, even if he managed to pull it off, she could still walk away from him. And there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it.
He got up and stepped onto the balcony. The sun was slowly setting. They would serve dinner soon—he could smell it from the kitchen.
Voices came from below. William leaned over and looked down. Three kids, George’s blond head, Jack’s auburn mane, and Gaston’s closely cropped hair. He’d barely seen the kids since he arrived. By the time he and Declan had hammered out and delivered the terms of the deal, he was dead on his feet and he passed out for about twelve hours.
“So what are you?” Jack asked, aggression vibrating in his voice.
This ought to be interesting.
“Are you like William’s kid or something?” Jack asked.
“Leave it alone,” George said, his voice calm.