“Oh, I don’t think so.” She glared at him. “Did you see what he did with the door? He has to be fae. Why are you mixed up with someone who can do magic? And what did he mean when he said that when you pay your debt in full, you won’t survive?”
Thad met her gaze, his expression fierce. “I was backed into a corner, and I had to make a bargain with him. It’s my problem, and I’ll deal with it. But you are going to stay out of this, and whatever you do, you are going to stay far away from Alistair Teague. Promise me.”
“Fine. I’ll stay away from Teague.” It was an easy promise to make. Teague made her feel like she was dangling by a thread over a deep, black hole. But if Thad thought she was going to stay out of this and ignore the threat to her brother, he was a fool. It was the two of them against the world; and the last thing Thad needed to deal with on top of questions about the legitimacy of his kingship and an economy shaken by a spike in crime was a fae threatening him over a bargain.
She couldn’t stop the nobility from questioning Thad’s ability to rule. She couldn’t stop criminals from targeting Súndraille’s cities. But she could figure out what kind of fae creature Alistair Teague was, and maybe that would help Thad figure out how to get free of him.
As a group of Draconi who appeared to be close friends of the Eldrian king spilled out into the garden, laughing and dancing, Thad straightened his shoulders, nodded to Cleo as she snatched up her tray of fizzy wine, and then took Ari’s arm and gently steered her toward the ballroom.
Ari stayed by his side, smiling until her face felt like it would never resume a normal expression and gritting her teeth at the barbed questions and insinuations many Súndraillians tossed at her brother.
Thad was going to have to make time in his busy schedule to have a heart-to-heart with her about whatever bargain he’d struck. In the meantime, she’d start asking questions about Teague. If a fae creature with magical power was in Súndraille, someone would’ve heard of it.
If Teague thought he was going to use the bargain he’d made with Thad to take her brother’s life, he was going to have to go through Ari first.
THREE
ALISTAIR TEAGUE SURVEYED the docks with cold satisfaction.
Deckhands hauled boxes of freight up the long ramps that led from the dock to the ships rocking gently in their berths along the inner harbor. Merchants scurried around piles of goods, issuing orders, while the ships’ captains called out commands to check rigging and move lively. At the mouth of the dock, where the weather-beaten planks met the crushed seashell road that edged Kosim Thalas, the harbormaster stood with a schedule of departures and arrivals in his hands.
Not a single city guard in sight.
The sun crept higher, tearing through the early morning mist with pale fingers. Flocks of seabirds cawed as they swooped over the golden waves of the Chrysós, diving to snatch fish with their sharp beaks. Alistair allowed himself a small smile. Like a seabird, he was prepared to descend on his prey without warning.
Without mercy.
And now he no longer had to account for interference from the crown. With the new king of Súndraille firmly in Alistair’s debt, he could conduct his business out in the open.
His would be the name whispered in secret by a kingdom too terrified to speak of him in broad daylight. He would be the cautionary tale parents told their children at night and the clarion call of hope for those desperate enough to bargain their lives away. He would do as he pleased with relentless force; and by the time he made a move for the throne, there would be no one left to dream of opposing him.
Once upon a time, he’d served a crown with no desire to wear one himself.
But that was before the betrayal. Before his exile.
Before the fear of another human uncovering his secrets turned his dreams into nightmares.
When he was in power, when the kingdom was cowering at his feet, he would force every subject to sign a contract in blood. A promise that if they ever asked questions about him—his present or his past—they would immediately pay for it with their lives. He’d finally be untouchable.
He glanced around once more, meeting the eyes of Daan, his debt collector, and the handful of enforcers who were scattered about, blending into the busy rhythm of the dock until the time came to spring the trap.
A flurry of activity at the mouth of the dock caught his attention, and Teague’s eyes narrowed as a woman carrying a small child on one hip and a worn satchel over her shoulder shoved a piece of parchment into the harbormaster’s hands and gathered her other four children close while he read the document.
A shipping order. Confirmation that she’d scraped together her meager coin and purchased a berth for herself and her miserable brood aboard a large Eldrian cargo ship bound for the remote port of Ailvansky.
She’d been careful. Secretive. She’d trusted no one.
It didn’t matter. Teague had spies everywhere, including the dock. Cold rage filled him as she took the parchment from the harbormaster with shaking hands and urged her children onto the dock and toward the ramps.
Humans. Greedy, easily manipulated, and unfaithful to their last breath.
He eased behind a merchant who was loudly ticking off the items on his cargo list and waited while she rushed her children past his hiding place. She was muttering desperate pleas for them to move faster. Be quieter. Hurry.
As the last child, a boy who looked maybe ten years old, moved past Teague, pushing a younger girl ahead of him and glancing around the dock with worried eyes, Teague left his place of concealment. Lunging forward, he grabbed the boy’s arm and spun him around.
The boy’s eyes grew big, and he pulled back, but he was no match for Teague.
“Oh, Sela, I believe you’re forgetting someone,” he called, his voice cutting through the dockside clamor and bringing the woman to a halt.
She spun, and terror flooded her face at the sight of her son caught in Teague’s grip.
“Please.” She dropped the satchel and raised a trembling hand toward Teague as her other children clustered around her, their eyes fixed on their older brother. “Not my boy. Not him.”
Teague stepped toward her, dragging the boy with him. “It wouldn’t have been your boy at all, Sela, but you tried to cheat me.”
“I didn’t . . . I wasn’t . . .” Her voice faded, and tears gathered in her eyes. “Please.”
“Your collection day isn’t for another three months, but trying to break your contract with me makes the debt come due immediately.” Teague reached a free hand into his vest pocket and pulled out a glittering diamond flask with a gold stopper.
“No!” Her voice broke.