“Despite your claims, the Commander is not working with Bruns,” Cahil said, distracting me from my morose thoughts.
“How did you come up with that?”
“Onora’s obviously working with Valek. That fight on the rooftop was probably staged. Her claim that Bruns asked the Commander to send her was just to make me doubt Bruns. Just like you want to do with our accord.”
I couldn’t argue the point that Valek and Onora were working together. Why hadn’t he told me? Perhaps he didn’t have time. Did it matter? No. Valek always put my safety first. If he forgave me, I’d never doubt him again. If not...
I shied away from that awful thought.
“Come on,” Cahil said, heading to the stairs.
We returned to the basement office. I bandaged Cahil’s cut and then sat at one of the desks while Cahil straightened the mess they’d left behind in their hurry to leave. He hummed to himself. The bastard was in a good mood.
“Did you lie about The Mosquito, too?” I asked.
“I didn’t lie about Valek. My sources spotted him fighting Onora, and she was seen later. It was a natural conclusion. As for The Mosquito, he is dead. That’s been confirmed.”
One bright spot in an otherwise miserable day. The sleepless night caught up to me. Exhausted and heartsick, I rested my head on the desk and welcomed sleep.
*
Voices and movement roused me. Cahil’s people had woken, and they filtered into the office area with sheepish expressions. A few sported bruises, and I helped bandage a number of cuts. It could have been worse.
Cahil sent two of them to keep an eye on the door while the rest discussed their next move. A messenger from Bruns arrived, and I ducked under the desk to avoid being spotted. They went into Cahil’s office, but I remained hidden until the man left.
“Good news, Yelena.” Cahil smiled. “I’ve been recalled to the garrison. No need to invent an excuse for our departure.”
“Why do you have to go back?”
His grin turned sly. “I’ll tell you in ten days.”
Bastard.
“We’ll leave tomorrow morning for the garrison,” Cahil said to his crew. “Hanni, please pick up supper for all of us.”
“Not from the Council Hall’s dining room,” I said. “The Hall’s food is laced with Theobroma.”
Hanni gave me a wide-eyed stare.
“You don’t know that for sure,” Cahil said with an annoyed tone.
“How else can you explain the Councilors’ willingness to leave and allow the Cartel to take over?”
“They agreed with Bruns’s brilliant ideas and strategy.”
“Then why not appoint him General and organize the war preparations themselves?” I asked.
“I’m not going to argue with you anymore.”
Too bad. It would be a nice distraction from my situation.
“Hanni, buy a bunch of meat pies from the market.” Cahil handed her a gold coin.
“Yes, sir.” She bolted for the door.
“This place has been compromised. The rest of you pack up all the intel. We’ll move the furniture later.”
They bustled about, shoving files and various items into boxes and crates. I stayed out of the way.
One of the door guards appeared and gestured Cahil over. “There’s a...person at the door. He insists on talking to you and our...guest.”
Scowling, Cahil asked, “Valek?”
Excitement swirled in my chest. Did Valek return to say goodbye?
“No, sir. A young man. Says he has a package for you both.”
All warmth died.
Cahil belted his sword on and tucked a dagger into the opposite side. He held a hand out to me. “Come on.”
Curious and hopeful that maybe Valek had sent me a message instead, I stood. Cahil grasped my wrist tightly.
“I promised to cooperate. You don’t need to hold on to me as if I’m going to run away,” I said.
He didn’t bother to reply. But as he guided me up to the ground floor and through the gloomy warehouse, I remembered he’d done the same thing when Onora appeared. As if the gesture warned her that I belonged to him. Perhaps he worried the young man would attempt to rescue me.
Fisk waited with the other guard by the open door. The fading sunlight lit his light brown eyes. A painful burn shone on his left temple and a raw cut marked his cheek. I shot Cahil a nasty glare. Fisk, though, peered at me in concern. Even though he was seventeen years old, I still saw the small boy that I’d first met over eight years ago superimposed on his tall and lean frame.
“Ah, it’s the Beggar King,” Cahil said. “Come to check on Yelena, Your Majesty?”
Fisk ignored Cahil. Instead he asked me, “Are you all right?”
“She’s fine,” Cahil said.
“And she’d better stay that way, or else—”
“What? You’ll send your kiddies after me? They’re no match for trained soldiers.”
Fisk smiled. I marveled that his grin actually lowered the temperature in the room by ten degrees.
“Oh no, General. I wouldn’t do something so...overt. There are so many ways to make a person’s life miserable.”
Score one for Fisk.