Teia nodded. “Lot of work, just to get your own Blackguard to report to you.”
“It seemed you had more to say after you gave your official report. I had some more questions.” Days ago, Teia had finally given her report about how the Mighty had been attacked and then how they’d escaped in the presence of Commander Fisk, but Karris was certain there had been more to the story that she’d held back. It just hadn’t been the most important thing to find out about in the midst of all the crises she’d had to deal with every day for the last couple of weeks.
But Teia goggled. “Are you joking?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Karris asked.
“I set the emergency meeting signal twice! Even though Marissia told me I’m never supposed to set it more than once, in case I’m being watched. And you never came!”
Karris’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Marissia never handed over the list of emergency signals before she fled. That bitch!” What else had Karris missed?
Teia paled. “Orholam have mercy. What if those were in that package? I could be dead already if the Order was watching. And what do you mean she’s a bitch?”
“What?” Karris asked.
Karris and Teia had seen each other almost every day in the last weeks, but to keep their relationship as handler and spy secret neither of them had acted out of the ordinary. It must have been killing Teia.
“Just, just report,” Karris said. “Quickly.”
Luckily, Teia had obviously prepared herself for this in case she needed to report the essentials in only a few minutes. She told about the Lightguards’ murdering Goss, and the flight down the stairs, the flight back up the lifts, and out onto the roof. She backtracked briefly with “—And you know that Andross Guile had the White assassinated, right? He hired my master Murder Sharp to do it. I overheard him offer the contract myself.”
Karris hadn’t known. It was a punch in the guts. They’d had a quiet funeral for Orea Pullawr, according to her wishes—everything in her life had been public for decades, and she’d long demanded her parting be private. How Karris had wept, and thanked the old woman for the privacy so she could do so freely.
That soulless piece of shit, Andross. Orea had been dying anyway. Why hadn’t Andross Guile simply let her go?
Because that wouldn’t be a win over his old nemesis?
No, because he’d stacked the deck for who would become the next White, and he’d wanted to get his grandson approved as Prism-elect, and he feared that Orea Pullawr was going to stop him. By killing her before Sun Day, he’d gotten both—except that Orea had seen it coming.
She’d taken care of Karris. Prepared her.
“You said something about a package of letters?” she asked suddenly. “Wait… not bound with red ribbon?”
“On Marissia’s desk, yes,” Teia said.
Oh no.
Teia spun out the rest of the tale to Karris’s growing horror: The discovery of the escape lines, which Orea had given Kip a hint about. The flight to the docks. Kip’s hasty—Andross Guile–arranged—marriage to Tisis Malargos. Karris had known Tisis was gone, but none of her spies had been able to tell her why or where yet. The girl was supposed to be a hostage for Ruthgar’s good behavior. Scratch that item off the list, and not the way Karris had hoped.
Teia then told about her own decision to stay, then backtracked to tell how Tremblefist had been the one to blow up the cannon tower to save the Mighty’s ship from being sunk.
Karris had already learned about that one from other sources, but the loss was still fresh. Tremblefist had died for his young charges. Sacrificed himself for Kip.
Then Teia told her about kidnapping Marissia with Murder Sharp, and how the woman had tried to get the bundle of papers to Karris—and failed.
So Marissia wasn’t a traitor. She was a martyr.
The woman Karris had been denouncing as a bitch, and whore, and disloyal had been doing everything in her power to be Karris’s friend and faithful servant.
Damn me.
But why would Andross want Marissia? This Murder Sharp hadn’t known that Marissia was a spymaster. But that meant only that the Order didn’t know she was a spy. Andross had instructed Sharp to take her papers.
Maybe he knew or suspected what she was. Maybe he’d just gotten lucky.
Karris had felt as if she were drowning ever since she’d taken the white robe and watched a roomful of nobles prostrate themselves before her. To hear that someone had tried to throw her a lifeline—only to have it snatched away—was almost too much to bear.
I need to kill Andross.
Except he was untouchable. Too valuable. Too powerful. Irreplaceable.
“High Lady, I’m sorry to rush, but I want to make sure I tell you everything.”
Karris motioned she should go on, and then Teia told her about the Order’s offering to kill whomever she’d wanted killed and how she’d tagged and then untagged Quentin.
And there we got lucky, Karris thought.
“Have they followed up with you about that?” Karris asked. “Will they kill you for it?”
“I’ve got a plan,” Teia said. “But if I just disappear… I’ll do my best not to talk.”
It seemed surreal to be talking so blithely about such things. People didn’t just disappear from the safety of the Chromeria. That was Ilyta, the satrapy of traitors and pirates and cutthroats and bad men. A young girl like Teia shouldn’t have to be a warrior. She should be overanalyzing what she’d said to some boy who might reject her because of it, not analyzing what she’d said to some cultist who might murder her because of it.
This is the world we’ve both been thrust into now. Sink or swim, girl. And Orholam have mercy on my soul for throwing you in the water.
They talked a bit more, bringing each other up to speed and updating their dead drop and emergency drop procedures. Then, finally, Karris said, “We’re almost out of time. Any quick questions before I give you your new orders?”
“Yes. How’d you know that Quentin was telling the truth about High Luxiat Tawleb?”
Karris sniffed, amused. “Orea Pullawr left me many tools. Not only eyes and ears; I have fingers and blades as well. My spies learned of Quentin’s guilt. When he confessed, I had no one in High Luxiat Tawleb’s house, but I did have people in place to see if he would do what a guilty man would do when he hears a fellow conspirator has been seized. But Tawleb didn’t liquidate any of his goods or home, which either meant he was innocent or just intelligent. He did hire out an entire well-known smuggler’s ship, without telling the captain what he would carry.
“Within the hour, we had that smuggler sail ‘on other quick business.’ If Tawleb’s timing had been merely a coincidence, say, he was hiring a smuggler for some other illicit cargo that we didn’t know about because we’d never really examined him that closely, then he would have waited for his favorite smuggler to return. He didn’t. He went to another instead. This one we let stay. And then early the morning of the executions, one of my light fingers returned to me with Tawleb’s diary.
“Most clever men just can’t help but brag about their cleverness, even if only to themselves. His wording was always vague enough that alone, it could have meant anything. Combined with all the rest of the evidence, though, it was damning.” She paused, a chastened grin stealing over her lips. “But perhaps I shouldn’t blame anyone for boasting of their cleverness, now should I? I’ve just done it myself.”
“I won’t tell. Promise,” Teia said, and she grinned for the first time.
“It’s nice to see you smile, Teia,” Karris said. There was a quick rap on the door, and five beats later, having given Teia just enough time to take up a post against one wall, a stoic Baya Niel poked his head in. “Breakfast and correspondence, High Lady.”
“Two minutes while I finish these papers,” Karris said.
He closed the door. Karris looked at Teia, somber once more.