by A. M. Manay
“She didn’t get raped, if that’s what you’re asking,” Hana divulged without hesitation. “Afraid she’s not good enough for your bed anymore, are you? You have a lot of nerve.”
Silas stepped back, genuinely offended. “Certainly not,” he declared with cold fury. He bit the words as though he had fangs. “I know full well which one of us in unworthy of the other.”
Hana snorted. “Good.”
“You’re worried about her,” Bluebell intuited.
“I am,” Silas acknowledged.
“Why?”
“She’s begun opening up, a little bit. Between that and her talking in her sleep, I’m learning a few things. It sounds like she spent a great deal too much time with Fenroh,” he began. “Enough that . . .” He shook his head and looked down at the ground.
“You think he broke her? You fear that she is working for him? What’s the matter with you?” Hana asked, eyes flashing with accusation.
Silas held up his hands. “Even if she were, it wouldn’t be her fault. Everybody breaks. It’s only a matter of time. And I am familiar with Fenroh’s methods and appetites. He makes me look like a saint.”
“How could you possibly suspect her?” Hana demanded. “What has she done to make you think this way?”
“Nothing. It’s not that I suspect her in particular. It could be any of us. But she was the one Fenroh chose to torment. That isn’t an accident. Fenroh is a schemer.”
“Takes one to know one,” Hana retorted.
“Fair enough. But she does seem changed, more timid in some ways and less in others. Though I guess that is understandable after imprisonment. It’s probably not her behavior that is setting off my suspicions. But I know in my bones that someone among us is not what he or she seems. We got away far too easily. Away from Elderton, and again at Fountain Bluff. Something is not right.”
“Easily? She had to kill over a hundred people at the Citadel,” Hana retorted.
“Yes. And it was easy because none of them were protected by wards or charms. None except Fenroh, who got away clean. Isn’t that convenient? That he was prepared for such a disaster, when no one else was? He gets rid of his father and his rival, Vestal Korra, in one blow, with no blood on his own hands.”
Hana just shook her head, disbelieving.
Silas continued, undaunted. “At some point along our journey, summer progress or no, the queen’s men should have been breathing down our necks. But there was nothing. Nothing.”
“But why would Fenroh or the queen want us to get away? Especially you and Shiloh and Mosspeak. If there were to be an uprising, the most likely masterminds would be the three of you,” Hana pointed out.
“Yes. And now where are we? Out in the middle of nowhere, with little idea of what is going on in the kingdom and no ability to affect events. To be likely forever tainted in the eyes of respectable people by our association with Feralfolk. And Shiloh wishing she could flee to Estany, which would make her look like a foreign pretender should she ever press her claim to the throne.”
“You can’t blame her for wanting to leave and never come back. It’s what the two of you should have done when Esta took the crown in the first place, if you had a lick of sense,” Hana argued.
“I don’t blame her for wanting to shake the dirt of Bryn from her boots. But it’s all too bloody convenient for Fenroh, and for Gerne, if she does!” Silas protested.
“Not everything is a conspiracy, Hatch,” Hana declared. “I think you miss being a spymaster too much. And if Shiloh thinks you suspect her of something, she will never forgive you. And if you keep poking around asking us questions instead of talking to her, she will sense that you don’t trust her.”
“There is no need for him to continue poking around,” Bluebell said.
“Why not?” Silas asked.
“Because it isn’t Shiloh working for Fenroh. It’s me.”
Both Things
Fenroh stumbled along, hands bound, as Silas led him away from the group to answer nature’s call. It would be another day before they caught up with the rest of the army, and Silas was already out of patience with their new prisoner.
“Let me go, and you will be rewarded,” Fenroh told him.
Silas barked a laugh. “Not likely.”
“My father is very powerful,” Fenroh continued.
“Yeah, I know. You and I have met before, at his house in the Claw,” Silas replied. His mouth moved as though he were eating something sour.
Fenroh eyed him closely before changing tack entirely. “I know you’re working for Mirin. Free me, or I’ll tell those soldiers. I don’t imagine they’re very kind to traitors.”
Silas shoved Fenroh against a tree, far stronger than his underfed appearance suggested. He held his wand to Fenroh’s throat.
“Then there is no reason for me not to kill you where you stand,” Silas growled. “You will keep your mouth shut and bide your time until I can find out how Queen Mirin would like this handled. Do you understand me? I doubt she would be too pleased to lose the only pair of ears she has in Alissa’s inner circle. And I assure you, it would get back to her that you were the one who blew my cover. Do you think I am their only agent in Alissa’s army?”
“All right, all right,” Fenroh acquiesced, eyes wide with alarm. “I take back my threat.”
“Good,” Silas spat, then released the man. “Look, I can’t stand you, but we’re on the same side. You’re going to have to trust me. I’ll do what I can to protect you, but not at the expense of revealing my loyalties. That is the best I can do for you.”
Fenroh nodded and swallowed heavily. “Very well. I’ll trust you. It seems I have no choice.”
Silas caught Hana around the waist just as she launched herself at Bluebell.
“Control yourself, Lady Kepler,” he hissed into Hana’s ear, holding her fast until she stopped thrashing. “And you—keep talking,” he ordered Bluebell.
“I’m a double agent,” Bluebell explained with no shame whatsoever, “pretending to work for Fenroh while really working for Mount Tarwin.”
“It was your plan, the breakout,” Hana whispered. “You encouraged her to do it. Not to save us all, but because it’s what Fenroh wanted?”
“It can be both things,” Bluebell argued. “Liberating the prisoners was the right thing to do. Luckily, it coincided with Fenroh’s own desires.”
“It was no coincidence that you and Shiloh were in the same cell,” Silas concluded, wheels turning in his head. “He put you together on purpose.”
“Yes,” Bluebell confessed, no guilt in her tone. “I did what was necessary to keep his trust and to protect her and the other prisoners as best I could.”
“What about me?” Hana asked, tears in her eyes. “Was I some unwitting stooge, some pawn in his plans?”
“He put us together because he thought you and Shiloh had been friends at court. Bad intelligence, obviously,” Bluebell answered. “He thought your presence would get her to talk more openly.”
“You were informing on her the whole time. Her fears. Her conversations with Korra. Her suffering. Her stories about her childhood, about Greenhill, about me, about her parents. You told it all to Fenroh,” Hana accused through trembling lips.
“Yes, most of it,” Bluebell confirmed. “And I was reporting back to Tarwin about Fenroh’s plans. And about Shiloh.”
“How?” Silas asked, but he could guess the answer.
“Mirror magic,” Bluebell answered. “We have preserved that knowledge.”
“All that time, I thought you were our friend,” Hana spat.
“I was,” Bluebell insisted. “I still am. Truly. But I also have a duty to my own people, my sisters on the mountain.”
“All that time we lived in terror that Shiloh would be killed before she could get us out . . . you knew that wouldn’t happen. You knew Fenroh would see to it she got the chance to get away, so she could get rid of the Patriarch for him,” Hana concluded.
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�Yes.”
“How could you let her be so terrified for so long?” Hana demanded.
“Because she needed to think she was in danger or she might not have been willing to do what was necessary,” Bluebell answered.
“Namely killing scores of people in one go, which will haunt her the rest of her days,” Silas finished for her, struggling to retain control of his temper. “Did Fenroh know Shiloh intended to go to Fountain Bluff afterwards?”
“Yes.”
“Did he want Mosspeak, Penn, and Loor spirited away?” Silas continued, pressing for more information.
“Yes.”
“And now?” Hana asked. “Are you still reporting on us?”
“I have no way of communicating with Fenroh now,” Bluebell responded. “He does not know I use mirror magic. I doubt he knows those secret spells himself, and I would never share that knowledge with him. It is far too dangerous in the wrong hands.”
Silas narrowed his eyes. “When was the last time you contacted him?”
“I sent a coded letter from the village before we left Fountain Bluff, confirming that we would seek refuge among the Feralfolk. I did not tell him where,” Bluebell admitted.
“Only because you didn’t know!” Hana accused.
Bluebell gave a noncommittal shrug.
“How did you even write a letter in the first place?” Hana asked. “You can’t see.”
“I used my wand, Hana. For the Maiden’s sake, I’m blind, not stupid!” Bluebell erupted, displaying her first sign of anger at the interrogation.
“And Mount Tarwin? What did you accomplish for them?” Silas asked.
“It was in Tarwin’s interest that the Patriarch and his order be weakened. The Elder’s Order has always been hostile toward our control of the holy mountain, and the order is now decimated,” Bluebell explained. “My superiors also wanted me to take steps to ensure Shiloh’s survival.”
“Why?” Silas said.
“They did not see fit to tell me.”
Silas shook his head and ground his teeth. “Gods above. You expect me to believe that?”
“Believe what you like, but if you tell the Feralfolk of my espionage, they will kill me,” Bluebell reminded him. “They give spies no quarter.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Silas snapped. “We mustn’t breathe a word of this, Hana. Not to anyone.”
“What do I care if they kill her?” Hana demanded, angry tears pouring down her face.
“Because it will throw a shade upon you and Shiloh, too. And because we might be able to use her.”
Hana shook her head in defiance, and Silas took her by the shoulders. “We can’t know the future. It could be that, someday, Bluebell’s ability to lead Fenroh astray may be crucial to our survival. That or her connections at Mount Tarwin. Hana, we can’t throw a weapon away just because she caused us pain. Not when we have so few arrows in the quiver.”
Finally, Hana nodded, still angry but seemingly resolved to cooperate. “Fine. But you’d better at least tell Shiloh. She deserves to know. And if she finds out later . . .”
Silas swallowed. “You are right.”
He turned to Bluebell, eyes aflame. “And as for you . . . I’ll have my eyes on you.”
Shiloh sat, dry-eyed and silent on the end of their bed. Silas had just told her the whole sad tale, and she had made not a sound. Her pulse pounded in her ears, roaring like the sea. At last, she shook off her frozen shock.
“That’s how he knew the details of my meetings with Korra. Bluebell told him,” she finally said.
“Most likely.”
“I told her so many things. About the night I killed the Feralfolk in my village. About you, our marriage. I was such a fool,” she berated herself.
“It’s not your fault you were betrayed,” Silas countered. He sat down next to her and took her hand. “It’s her fault.”
“I thought I was refusing to be Fenroh’s weapon,” she continued, near tears. “But he was using me the whole time. She helped him . . . wield me,” she spat, despair turning to anger.
“I know. You have every right to be furious. Gods know, I am. But you did manage to save hundreds of innocent people from the order. They can’t take that away from you,” Silas insisted.
“We slept in the same bed for months, Silas. She held me when I had nightmares, for the Maiden’s sake,” Shiloh despaired.
“Oh, little bird.”
“How could she?” Shiloh said. “Her friendship seemed so real.”
“It may well have been real. She is a very gifted and well-trained operative. Hell, I wish she were mine,” Silas confessed, drawing an accusatory look from Shiloh. “Look, when you have to get close to someone as part of your work as a spy, it isn’t that the emotions you show are all fake. It’s that they are subordinate to the mission. I hate her on your behalf, but I can’t help respecting her ability and commitment. She is a professional.”
“You’ve done what she did,” Shiloh realized aloud.
“During the war. Edmun used me for . . . such things, more than once. And I’ve managed many informants like Bluebell during my work for Rischar,” he admitted. “You can’t take it personally. She didn’t set out to hurt you. She had a job to do. She probably really does care about you.”
Shiloh cocked her head to the side, a memory bubbling up inside her. “Mirin hurt you,” Shiloh said slowly. “Edmun made you spy on her, get close to her, and she hurt you.”
Silas’s eyes widened. “How do you . . .”
“When Edmun was dying, for a minute, he thought I was you. He was begging forgiveness, saying he never should have put you under Mirin’s eye,” Shiloh divulged. “What did she do to you? What did he do to you?”
Silas shook his head. “I . . . It was awful, Shiloh, and I don’t want you to think . . . it was a terrible time, and we all did terrible things. I’m not proud of . . .”
“I’m not going to think badly of you,” she promised. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” She squeezed his hand.
Silas kept his eyes on her fingers intertwined with his own. “He sent me with messages to Mirin. Told me to let her seduce me, so I could gain her trust. She liked to be admired; she was away from Rischar, and I was a good-looking boy. Edmun wanted me to peer into her thoughts while we were . . . I can do that, sometimes. Edmun knew. Pain and pleasure make it easier to see. I got a lot of good information that way, but . . .”
“You poor boy,” she whispered.
“There’s more. There was a baby. She kept it a secret. It came early. It was hexborn. She killed it. Him. She killed him, and she gave him to me to bury without telling me what was in the box. I looked, of course. Edmun would have wanted me to look, so I did. I was probably fifteen, maybe sixteen. He had green hair.” He darted a glance in her direction and quickly looked away.
“Oh, Silas,” Shiloh sighed. “I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and tucked her head against his shoulder. She could hear his heart pounding in his chest, faster than a rabbit’s.
“I never told anyone except for Edmun,” Silas said. “Never.” She squeezed him tighter and held the silence for a long time before she spoke again.
“We should disappear to Estany. Now, while Bluebell is still here, unable to communicate with Fenroh,” Shiloh proposed. “Before she sneaks off back to him, or to Tarwin. Let her get snowed in here for the winter while we make our escape.”
“Do you really want to run?” Silas asked.
“I’m tired of being a pawn in other people’s games!” She extricated herself from their embrace and began to pace in a fury.
The corners of Silas’s mouth twitched. The last time he had seen her in such a temper was the night they had become engaged.
“If you don’t want to be a pawn anymore, leaving the board isn’t the only answer, you know,” he told her.
She turned to him, hand on her hip. “What would you suggest, my lord?”
He grinned.
“Becoming the player.”
“I know you keep a watch on happenings in Bryn proper,” Silas told Keegan. “I’d appreciate an update.”
Keegan snorted. “Are you under the mistaken apprehension that I care what you want?”
“Fine. I would appreciate an update,” Shiloh retorted.
Keegan grinned. “Certainly, daughter. Esta has returned from her progress in great distress over the death of the Patriarch. Westan is infuriated. He’s pouring his anger into obtaining an heir. He visits Esta every night. Fenroh has commandeered an old monastery in the Gate for his headquarters. There’s quite a lot of excitement over the healed Deadlands, people leaving religious offerings there. Mostly pink flowers and little hooks made out of wire or wood. You can imagine that the powers that be are not thrilled about that.”
“And how do you know all these things?” Shiloh asked.
“Oh, I have my ways,” Keegan replied.
“He sends folks into villages dressed as priests on pilgrimage. And he uses ensorcered mirrors,” Silas explained.
Shiloh’s eyes widened. “How did you know he was using mirror magic?”
“Because I taught the little ingrate how to do it!” Keegan groused. “I shall forever regret that I took a shine to you when you were a boy.”
“You use mirrors that way?” Shiloh demanded of her husband.
“I do,” he confessed, bemused at her scandalized expression.
Shiloh shook her head.
“There’s more. The lords are very unhappy. Westan is trying to force marriages to Gernish nobility on the young ones. The priests are unhappy, the ones left alive. Including the die-hard Patrists. They have little love for Fenroh, and the purges have horrified even them by now. And now he’s grabbing up the gentle bastards from the monasteries, the most talented ones. Folks are hiding their children with magical talent, lest they be dragged off to serve a man they’re terrified of. A sizeable number of the folks who escaped the Citadel, thanks to you, have fled south to Dessica to a reasonably warm welcome. The rest have disappeared into the villages. There have been numerous reported sightings of you, all over the place. It’s keeping the guard busy. And useless.”