Everyone headed toward the bathrooms, and Tavi decided to take her turn later. She followed Pala into a dining room off the kitchen. In the center was a long, wooden table with benches along both sides. A large pot of stew sat in the center. “It smells divine,” Tavi said.
“One of our apprentices made it.” Pala gestured to a bench. “Have a seat.” Tavi did, and Pala sat beside her. “Before everyone else gets here, let’s get an update on your magic.”
Tavi shrugged. “I can’t use it.”
Pala nodded. “Ellea told me. You haven’t had any luck coaxing your gifts to return?”
“No, it doesn’t matter what I try; I can’t use magic at all.”
Pala raised an index finger and opened her mouth, but before she could say more, Jenevy entered. Pala stood. “You must be Jenevy.” She gave Jenevy’s hand a firm shake. “I’m Pala.”
“Well met.” Jenevy’s eyes were bright with excitement. “I can’t wait to get started.”
“Savala has several midwife houses, but only two of them train apprentices,” Pala said. “We have four full-time midwives and five apprentices. You’ll be the sixth. It’ll be hard work.”
“I’m ready for it,” Jenevy said.
Before long, the others entered, and they all sat. Pala blessed the food and passed bread around, then served them steaming bowls of stew.
Tavi had just taken her first bite when she heard an unfamiliar voice. “Hello?”
She turned toward the entrance to the dining room. A young man stood there; he appeared to be about her age. He was wearing a jacket, light gloves, and a smile.
“Evitt, I can’t believe you walked here in the dark, and on such a windy night,” Pala said. She turned to Tavi and the others. “This is Evitt, our messenger.” She introduced each person at the table to Evitt. “He’s been anticipating your arrival; I think he’s tired of spending time around old midwives like me. Have a seat, Evitt. There’s plenty of stew if you’re hungry.”
Evitt ladled stew into a bowl, then sat at the end of one bench, across from Tavi. He held up a spoonful of stew and blew on it. “Tavi, right?” he asked, before taking a bite.
“Yes.”
“I’ve heard all about you and your friends,” Evitt said.
“We’ve only heard a little about you,” Tavi said, “but it sounds like you’re gathering good information on the Grays. Do you have anything new to tell us? Do you know where the Grays’ headquarters are now?”
Evitt’s brow knit in confusion. “I have no idea, but I assumed Reba would have given you that information. Didn’t they keep her there?”
“Yes. But they were afraid she’d go back home or be seen by a visitor from Oren, so they never let her leave the house. She hardly even left her room. She said the few times she did come and go, it was always through the alley in the back. She wouldn’t even recognize the house from the front and doesn’t know what part of town it’s in. She knows they call it the Gray House, but that doesn’t do us much good.”
“How did she get out?”
“She convinced the milkman to take her with him. But she was so excited to escape that she didn’t think to ask him for the address where he’d picked her up.” Tavi shook her head, wondering for the hundredth time how Reba could have been so dense. “The milkman helped Reba find a merchant who was willing to give Reba a ride to Oren.”
“I can see why she was excited to escape,” Evitt said. “They really made her stay in her room?”
Tavi nodded. “And her room didn’t even have any windows. Konner told her when she learned to use her magic more effectively, they’d give her more freedom.” Tavi glanced down the table at Reba, who was talking to Pala. “I have to say,” Tavi said, lowering her voice, “considering how long she was with the Grays, she hasn’t been very useful to us. I don’t think they valued her enough to tell her much of anything.”
“That may be true, but they’re definitely upset about her leaving,” Evitt said quietly. “I’ve heard Konner and Ash talking about sending someone to Oren to look for her, but they decided not to go back there after what happened.” He looked down at his stew, and when he looked back up at Tavi, his expression was somber. “I’m sorry about your sister.”
This caught Tavi off guard. She glanced down the table at Pala, who must have told this stranger about Misty. She forced herself to look again at Evitt. “Thank you, it’s fine,” she murmured.
“No!” His voice was still quiet, but there was force behind it. “It’s not fine. It’s evil. I wanted to help Pala as soon as I realized that the Grays were real—but when I heard about your sister, it was even more important to me to help put a stop to what Mr. Burrell has planned. We can’t let someone like that be in charge.”
Tavi’s resentment melted away, and unexpected moisture sneaked into her eyes. She blinked before it could turn into true crying and took a large bite of stew to give herself time to respond. Once she’d swallowed, she said, “I’m glad you want to help.”
“With all of us working together, I know we can stop them,” Evitt said.
Tavi looked up. “I’m not sure if Pala told you, but I don’t have any magic right now. I don’t think I’ll be able to do much.”
Evitt smiled. “It’ll come back.”
That simple statement had so much certainty behind it that it lifted Tavi’s spirits. She gave a small nod and took a bite of bread.
“I’ve heard what you did to escape last year,” When Tavi looked up, Evitt was grinning. “I can’t imagine how angry Mr. Burrell must have been. I wish I’d been there just to see his face.”
She laughed. “We were going so fast when we got out of there; I didn’t see his face either.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tullen, who sat across the table, two seats down from Evitt. He must have heard her; he was watching her with a smile, as if he, too, was recalling the daring escape.
Tavi turned her head away from Tullen and lowered her voice again. “I’m impressed with the conversations you’ve overheard between the Grays. How have you managed it?”
Evitt smiled. “In a house like Mr. Burrell’s, servants are always around. The maids, the groom, gardeners like me. Mr. Burrell and Ash forget we’re even there. I do my work quietly, and they take no notice of me. It’s like I’m invisible.”
Tavi returned his smile. She and Evitt kept up a light conversation while they all finished eating. When the bowls were empty, some of them having been filled two or three times, Officer Andisis shook all their hands and wished them well before leaving. He’d insisted on sleeping in the wagon and would leave for Oren the next day.
When Officer Andisis was gone, Pala stood. “Let’s get you all to your rooms. Reba, the healing house will send over a carriage for you shortly. You can wait in here if you’d like. And Evitt, get yourself home before your mother dies of worry.”
He laughed and stood. “It was great to meet you all.” He left the room.
Pala directed all of them but Reba to pick up their luggage, then led them toward the stairs. As they walked, Pala explained, “The midwives have their own homes in the area. Apprentices are given an option of staying at the midwife house, but the current ones all live nearby, and our upstairs rooms have been empty lately. They’ll suit you well.”
After they’d climbed to the second floor, Pala stopped. “This is the residential floor,” she said. She pointed up the next flight of stairs. “The third floor is the training area.”
They stepped into a spacious common room. Pala turned to the right. “Over there is Tullen and Sall’s room.” The two of them walked in, commenting on how big it was. Pala gestured to the left. “Girls, the other room is the largest, and there’s plenty of room for all of you.”
Tavi’s eyes widened. She supposed she should have considered the possibility of being required to room with Jenevy, but she hadn’t. She gritted her teeth and entered the room behind Jenevy and Narre.
“We use bunks in this room,” Pala said. Sure enough, both
beds in the room were two-level, with ladders leading up to the top beds. There were also four small desks, two large dressers, and a wardrobe.
As Jenevy and Narre discussed how to assign beds, Tavi climbed the ladder of the bunk at the far side of the room, setting her bag on top. At least up high, she could have some privacy. When she got down, she discovered the other girls watching her. “Did one of you want that bed?” Tavi asked.
They assured her they didn’t. Narre took the bunk below Tavi, and Jenevy took the other bottom bunk.
Pala told them good night. Tavi got ready for bed without a word. After two weeks of traveling in close quarters, she was exhausted. She lay down, turning her back to the bed where Jenevy would be sleeping. Within two minutes, sleep descended on her.
Chapter Nineteen
RELIN: Good men must kill and good men must die for the sake of good causes.
-From Relin: A Play in Three Acts by Hestina Arlo
“I didn’t come empty-handed.” Konner reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a bottle. “If you know whiskey, you know this is quality stuff. If you don’t know whiskey, well, you’ll still enjoy it.” The others in the room laughed, and Konner sat.
“I’ll get some cups,” one of the men said. He left the room.
Six men and three women, all safety officers, sat at the table with Konner in the meeting room of the city’s main office of safety. He’d gathered regularly with “his officers” for three years, though the group had started much smaller, just him and two others. Over time, they’d added to their numbers, only selecting those who could be trusted absolutely.
“How’s everything on the streets of Savala?” Konner asked.
The officers told him about a few minor arrests and updated him on the one murder case the city had seen that year.
Konner cleared his throat. “Any more trouble with the messy situation in that small town? What was it called, Oral?”
His tablemates laughed. “Oren,” one of the men said. “No more trouble. We sent their head safety officer a letter instructing him to stop telling us ridiculous stories about you. These villagers can’t blame everything on the big city.”
“Good. My bank never should’ve given their mayor a mortgage. He’ll never forgive me for foreclosing on it.” There had been no such mortgage, and the officers around the table probably suspected that. But it was a tidy way to explain why people in Oren had a vendetta against Konner.
Several weeks earlier, Garin Semovier, Savala’s head safety officer, had been notified that someone supposedly hired by Konner had murdered a young woman in Oren. Konner hadn’t even been told about it until weeks later, when his name was officially cleared. By then, Konner’s team was home, and they’d told him about the unfortunate incident. He was thankful the letter had gone directly to Garin. The man had been one of Konner’s original two officers and still sat across the table from him, loyal as a well-loved dog.
That wasn’t the first time safety officers in Oren had contacted their counterparts in Savala. After Tavi and Narre had escaped the farmhouse a year earlier, Garin had received a letter from Oren describing the Grays in disturbing detail. He had ensured the investigation was quick and quiet.
Konner had never quite denied the allegations against him. But his officers trusted him, and if they guessed that most of the claims were true, they kept their suspicions to themselves.
The officer who’d left came back, carrying three precarious stacks of stoneware mugs. They were rough, hand-molded things, and Konner hated to pour his good whiskey in them. But he’d decided against bringing his own crystal tumblers. In this group, he strove to be a man of the people, someone the safety officers could relate to, while also spoiling them with luxuries. It was a tough tightrope to walk, but as he poured whiskey and handed it to grateful officers, he thought he was keeping his balance just fine.
“Well, we’ve updated you, Konner,” one of the female officers said. “It’s your turn. How’s everything at your house?”
Konner smiled. “Silverstone Avenue remains the safest street in town, thanks to your dedicated patrols.” He raised his mug. “Here’s to the safety officers of Savala.” They all raised their mugs and drank. “What I want to know is how I can help you,” he said. He turned to the woman on his right. “How’s your son?”
“He was doing better,” she said. “But he seems to need more medication each week.”
The officer’s son had a curved spine. It caused the boy great pain, and the healers couldn’t fix it. They’d given the boy the highest safe dosage of pain medication, but it hadn’t been enough. Konner had started giving his mother money a year earlier, and she’d found black market sources for her son’s medicinal tea. Now he was hopelessly addicted. With his dosage increasing, he’d likely end up dying from the herb’s toxicity. When the time came, Konner would provide the family with a very nice funeral.
Konner reached into his bag and handed the officer a full money pouch. He placed a warm hand on her back. “My thoughts are with you.”
Others in the room updated Konner as well, though none of them had causes as heart-wrenching as the first. Konner was providing enough money for one officer to slowly build a cabin in the mountains, away from prying eyes. Another officer had a taste for fine wines, cigars, and silk sheets. Konner had crates of the items delivered to the man, frequently reminding him his luxury items must be kept secret.
The officers’ dependence on Konner grew as time went on, and while he’d never had to point out that he could take most of them down with the information he had on them, he was certain they kept such a possibility in mind. Soon they’d be ready to support him in more substantial ways than arranging foot patrols on his street. He was certain of it.
“Anything else?” Konner asked when each officer had received the promises they’d sought from him.
“There is one more thing.”
Konner looked up at Garin. “Of course, what is it?”
The head safety officer’s eyes locked with Konner’s. “One of my top lieutenants is gathering evidence on me and several others around this table.” A few of the officers reacted in surprise, but Konner could tell most of them had already heard the news. Garin continued, “This morning he asked me some uncomfortable questions about this meeting.”
“How close is he to having enough information to act on?” Konner asked.
“Very.”
Konner smiled and looked around the table once more. “I don’t want any of you to lose a minute of your well-earned sleep over this. Our meeting is over, but I’ll stay and talk with Garin. This issue will be resolved by the end of the week.”
All the officers but Garin rose. Konner shook each of their hands as they left, meeting their nervous gazes with his confident one. The last to leave was a young officer, the newest in the group. All he wanted was a mortgage loan approval, a request Konner could have granted in his sleep. After shaking his hand, Konner handed him the half-full bottle of whiskey. “You can save it for your first night in your new home. Better yet, you can drink it on your next day off, and I’ll bring you a full bottle when your mortgage is final.” The officer gave Konner a bright grin and left.
As soon as the door shut, Konner’s smile fled. He sat back at the table and peered at Garin. “Tell me about this nosy lieutenant.”
Ash was glad Revinee’s house was across the city. He’d need the whole trip to calm himself down. He led his horse—no, Konner’s horse—down the road, trying not to take out his anger on the poor beast who already suffered enough with such a master.
When Ash had told Wrey where he was going, she’d locked eyes with him. “You found someone who’s suffering?”
Ash had avoided the question and told her what time to meet him at Revinee’s. She hadn’t asked any more questions, but her wary gaze spoke volumes.
He thought he was getting on top of his anger when he realized he was hopelessly lost in The Port. Again. His fury flooded back, and by the time
he found his way to Revinee’s house, his jaw hurt from clenching his teeth so hard.
Revinee opened the door.
“We’ve found someone,” Ash said.
“I thought you were going to send me a message first.”
“There was no time.”
Revinee’s eyebrows lifted, and the smooth skin of her forehead compressed into pleats that were somehow still beautiful. “Let me get my cloak.”
Ash helped Revinee into the saddle behind him, her groans and popping joints reminding him of her true age. He explained the plan as they rode. He expected her to balk, but she merely responded, “We’ll do what we have to do.”
They rode to a residential street on the ocean’s coast. The small neighborhood was a shining jewel glimmering in the stinky mud of The Port.
Earlier that day, Konner had described the area. “The beach is fenced off so the residents can enjoy their views in private,” he’d told Ash. “But plenty of people hop the fence and stay on the beach until someone shoos them away.”
“We can’t hop the fence; we’ll have a horse,” Ash had replied.
“True. Well, find a house that’s unoccupied, and figure out a way to get through the gate. Most of the people there don’t have good locks on their gates. Safety officers patrol there often, but no one will be there today.”
Ash had narrowed his eyes. “How do you know so much about this place?”
“A safety officer gave me the information.”
Ash knew about Konner’s connections with the city’s safety officers, and he’d often wondered just how unscrupulous those connections might be. When Konner had told him the details of what they’d be doing on the quiet stretch of beach, Ash’s suspicions had been confirmed. He and Konner had argued, Ash insisting they were going too far, and Konner maintaining the importance of his plan. Konner had won, as always.
Facing the Gray Page 14