The Wish Granter (Ravenspire Book 2)
Page 12
“How do you know so much about Teague’s business?” she asked because it suddenly occurred to her that she was trusting him—with her life and with her brother’s—on the basis of a friendship that had been in existence for a week. And while her instincts about people were rarely wrong, this time being wrong could cost her everything.
Sebastian was quiet for a long moment. Finally he said with quiet intensity, “My father works for Teague. So did my brother before he died.” He met her gaze and something fierce burned in his eyes. “You don’t have to worry, Princess Arianna. I’d rather die than follow in my father’s footsteps. You’re safe with me.”
Ari nodded and ordered her traitorous stomach to stay right where it was as she turned toward the body. “I believe you. And this is a brilliant plan, Sebastian.”
“I have my moments.”
He jumped down from the wagon and offered her his hand. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She took his hand and climbed down, and together they moved to haul the body out of the wagon bed and throw it in the ditch.
SIXTEEN
“WE NEED TO talk.” Ari closed the door to Thad’s bedroom suite, locked it, and then pulled his writing chair over to the side of the bed and took a seat. Her brother was ensconced in a mound of pillows, a tiny bottle of willow bark and poppy leaves resting on his nightstand for when he needed help controlling the pain of his broken ribs and lacerated arm. It had been three days since his beating at the hands of the now dead collector, and the palace physician was still unwilling to allow the king to leave his bed.
Three days since Ari had kissed Sebastian with vomit breath and then subsequently skipped going to the arena for lessons because, stars knew, she had no idea what to say to him after that.
Three days and Ari had only checked on Thad from afar. Partially because she wasn’t sure how to approach the problem of Alistair Teague and hadn’t wanted to discuss it with Thad until she had a plan, and partially because it had taken three days for her to stop losing her lunch every time she remembered the sickening crunch of the cudgel hitting the collector’s head.
Especially when that memory was always followed instantly by her mother’s gruesome last moments, leaving Ari shaking and longing to curl up alone in her mother’s old bedroom and cry until she had nothing left.
She needed to be calm and in control for this conversation, because Thad wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.
“It’s about time you stopped avoiding me.” Thad struggled to sit up, hissing in a breath as he moved his torso. “Cleo tells me that the two of you went to the market without Mama Eleni and asked merchants about Teague. And that Teague’s men accosted you.”
“Why would she tell you that? Is nothing sacred?” Ari glared.
“Because her loyalty to keeping your secrets means less to her than her desire to keep you safe.” He leaned forward and winced. “What were you thinking, asking questions about Teague in Kosim Thalas?”
“I was thinking that I was going to protect my brother.” She held his gaze.
“Ari, this isn’t something you can fix for me.” His tone begged her to believe him.
“Better me than your guard,” she snapped. “It was his carelessness that earned you a visit from Teague’s collector. Ajax is recovering well, by the way, and he sends his regards. Also, he’s still using his contacts on Llorenyae to bring some fae guard beasts for the palace—an idea that will either work brilliantly or will get all of us killed. And he’s still working on a plan to assassinate Teague, but since Teague already seems to know what Ajax is up to, I doubt he’s going to be successful, which is why we need a backup plan.”
His eyes narrowed. “This backup plan had better not put you at risk.”
Ari snorted.
Thad closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “Princesses don’t snort.”
“Princesses don’t kill criminals either, but there you have it.” Her voice was firm. “We have bigger problems than trying to curb all my unprincessy habits.”
“I have bigger problems. Not you. And I’m working to solve it—”
“With your guard, yes. And I hope he really can kill Teague, and that the beasts he’s ordering really can keep you safe. But if that plan fails, we have to be ready because your soul will come due, and I’m not going to stand by and let that happen.”
“That’s better than losing you to Alistair Teague!” Thad’s voice cut through the room. “Please, Ari. I got myself into this mess. I will either get myself out, or I will lose my soul to the Wish Granter. But you . . . you’re going to be safe. You’re going to grow old and happy, and if that means you have to rule Súndraille, then that’s what you’ll do. You and I both know that if you wanted to, you would make an excellent queen. You’re smart, you’re brave, you’re compassionate, and you don’t let anyone intimidate you.”
Ari leaned forward, her hands shaking as she wrapped them around her brother’s. “I’m not going to grow old and happy without you.”
“Ari, listen—”
“No, you listen. We’re a team. We always have been. You and me against the world, remember?”
He opened his mouth to argue.
“You’re the one who plays politics and knows how to be diplomatic. You’re the one who understand the ins and outs of the Assembly and what Súndraille needs to thrive. But me? I’m the one who plans. I’m the one who sees a wrong and relentlessly works behind the scenes to make it right. I’m the one who says what you can’t say because you’re the king. I’m the one who doesn’t pull her punches.”
He squeezed her hands. “This is different from figuring out how to stop boys from bullying me, or how to find the quickest way for me to accomplish a task Father set out to test me.”
She shook her head. “The stakes are higher, yes. But this is a problem, and, like all problems, it can be solved once we have the right information. Maybe we should just pay Ajax and call off the assassination attempt. We have nine and a half years to figure this out if we’re careful. I won’t haphazardly question everyone I know about the Wish Granter—I have no desire to have him sneak up on me in the garden again. And you won’t—”
“He did what?” Thad’s voice shook.
Oops.
“He was upset that Cleo and I were asking about him at the market. He made it very clear that if I didn’t stop, he’d hurt her to punish me.” She swallowed hard against the memory of his hand around her throat and drew in a deep breath to assure herself that she could.
“Then stop. Let me handle it. You spend your energy learning how to be queen, and if I’m able to stop Teague—”
“Lady Tassi told me that iron and bloodflower poison can hurt the fae, but I had an iron dagger with me when Teague accosted me. He grabbed it, and it blistered his hand, but the blisters disappeared in seconds. I don’t think regular iron weapons are going to work. He’s too old and too powerful. We have to gather every bit of information we can so that we can make a plan that works.”
He sighed, his breath catching on a cough at the end of it. “I’m not going to be able to stop you, am I?”
“When have you ever been able to stop me?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Now, let’s see what we know.” Ari got up and began to pace as she ticked off the items on her fingers. “First, Teague left Llorenyae, and rumors say he’ll have nothing to do with the isle. There has to be a reason for that. Maybe it’s something that can help us. We should develop some contacts on Llorenyae.”
“We’ll soon know the hunters who are bringing Ajax’s beasts.”
“Yes, we will, though I think it’s a bad idea to let those beasts onto the palace grounds. It just puts everyone around you in danger.”
“We have the barn with iron cages being built in the south pasture. Ajax says the hunters will train us how to control them. Plus he says they will be a deterrent to Teague.”
Ari tapped her finger against her lips as she thought. “We need to make
sure we talk to these bounty hunters without anyone else around to see if the fae have any weaknesses besides iron and bloodflower poison. We can combine whatever knowledge we get from them with the history in the Book of the Fae once I have my hands on that. And we can keep looking into weapons. Sebastian has a few ideas on that front.” Ari turned toward the window that overlooked Kosim Thalas. The midday sun had settled across the city in a haze of gold that glinted against the white domed roofs like shards of ice.
“Who is Sebastian?”
Ari turned from the window. “Honestly, Thad, don’t you know your own staff? He’s your new weapons master. The boy who helped me hide the collector’s body. He’s also the one who rescued Cleo and me at the market. He’s my friend, and he’s been teaching me self-defense.”
“A princess—”
Ari whipped her hand into the air. “If you’re about to say that a proper princess doesn’t make friends with a servant, we are going to have serious problems. Are you going to tell me I can’t be friends with Cleo either?”
“Of course not. But this is a boy, and you need to think of your reputation if you’re spending time alone with him—”
“Learning how to put out a man’s eye or take him down at the knees. Very romantic stuff, Thad. Very romantic. Oh, and we also hid a dead body together, so we’re practically engaged. Now, let’s talk about what else we know about Teague.”
She raised her fingers again and continued. “He used to live on Llorenyae but won’t have anything to do with it now. He lives somewhere in Kosim Thalas, though it’s hard to find anyone who knows exactly where. That might be useful knowledge for Ajax. I wonder if there are property records at the city magistrate’s office.”
“I can check. I have a meeting scheduled with the top city officials tomorrow. I’ll order an audit of all property owners and ask to see the records so that it doesn’t look like I’m singling him out.”
Ari nodded. “Good. And I’ll write to the considerable amount of men who danced with me at your coronation and discreetly ask what they know about the Wish Granter and the fae.”
“I told you it was worthwhile to dance with everyone who asked.”
“A proper king doesn’t say I told you so. It’s unbecoming. Now we need time to get all this information—the Book of the Fae, contacts on Llorenyae, Teague’s home address, and information from our allies. We have to stall Ajax. We can’t risk a failed assassination until we know another proven method to either kill or control Teague. Tell him that you think it’s wise to slow down preparations since Teague is suspicious enough to send his collector to give you a warning. Get him to agree to wait at least a few months—”
“Do you really think we’ll have a solution in a few months?”
Ari held Thad’s gaze. “If we don’t, then we’ll stall him again. There’s a solution out there. We just have to find it.”
Thad smiled, though sadness lingered in his eyes. “You’re the bravest, most stubborn person I know. I want you to add ‘careful’ to your list of attributes. This had better work, Ari, because if my stupid decision costs me my sister, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“It will work.” Ari’s voice was firm. “I won’t accept anything less.” She sat at the edge of his bed and took his hand. “You and me against the world, right?”
His eyes were full of regret. “Always.”
SEVENTEEN
ALISTAIR TEAGUE STOOD across the street from Edwin’s spice shop, his pipe in his hands, and watched a cluster of shoppers enter the building. Beside him, a messenger stood ready, parchment in hand, to complete the list of tasks Teague was delegating to his head street boss, Felman.
“Raise the quota for art and jewelry procurement. I don’t care if they have to break into homes in the dead of night and kill the people inside, I want my warehouses full.”
The messenger scribbled on the parchment with a quill dipped in the tiny pot of ink strapped to her belt.
“And get someone to survey the merchant district for a shop we can use. We’ll be selling some of those stolen goods right here. If the shop we want is occupied, get rid of the owners.”
More scribbling. Teague lifted his face to the breeze and stared at the shop across from him.
“Finally, send a message to Jacob in Balavata. Tell him I want him back here immediately. We can’t let the position of head collector in Kosim Thalas remain open for long.”
The messenger finished her list and left for Felman’s headquarters in east Kosim Thalas, and Teague turned his attention to the matter at hand.
The sun blazed in the sky overhead. The streets were packed with people.
And the few city guards he’d seen had turned away the moment they laid eyes on him.
It was the perfect setting for an object lesson in what happened to those who defied him.
He took a puff of his pipe, turned it upside down, and gently tapped the bowl to discard the remaining tobacco. Then he pocketed the pipe and strode across the street.
The shop’s door creaked and a tiny bell rang as Teague stepped into the room. The place smelled of dried herbs, wild roots, and sharp spices. The shopkeeper was bent over an open jar of candied ginger with a pair of tongs in one hand and a small burlap sack in the other.
This man—this plain, unassuming man—had spent time alone with the princess and her friend. According to the employees who’d been visiting this shop to collect Teague’s weekly protection fee, he’d told Arianna and Cleo not to let anyone know they’d visited his shop, which meant he’d done something he didn’t want Teague to know about.
Teague was going to enjoy prying the secret out of him.
The shopkeeper finished bagging the candied ginger. Handing it to the woman who’d ordered it, he reached for her coin and his eyes met Teague’s.
The coins clattered to the floor as the shopkeeper dropped his hand and took a step back.
Teague smiled.
“Going somewhere, Edwin?” he asked.
The man shook his head, though his eyes darted toward the shop’s back exit.
Teague’s smile grew sharp. “Oh, do try to run from me. I enjoy chasing down my prey.”
Edwin swallowed hard, and sweat beaded his brow. “I’m not . . . What are you doing here?”
The two customers closest to the front door tried to brush past Teague and leave. He glanced at the door and said, “Glas.”
The door refused to open, no matter how hard the men pulled on the handle. The rest of the customers stared at him in wide-eyed fear. So easy to terrify humans. A simple bit of magic, a command any fae worth their weight could accomplish, and everyone in the room was transfixed.
And he was just getting started.
Walking toward Edwin, Teague said, “You know why I’m here.”
The shopkeeper shook his head vehemently. “I paid! I paid my fee on time!”
Teague’s eyes narrowed. “You met with the princess.”
Edwin shrugged as if that fact meant nothing, but his voice shook. “She shops here often.”
Teague stopped five paces from the man. The other customers backed away, pressing against the front window or the racks of spices that lined the far wall.
“If the princess shops here often, and her visit wasn’t unusual, then why tell her to keep it a secret?” Teague ran a finger over a shelf of delicate amber jars with blue wax seals for stoppers.
“I didn’t.” Edwin glanced around the room as if looking for help. “There were collectors. She didn’t know about them, and they didn’t know about her. I wanted her away from here while that was going on. I didn’t want her to get hurt.”
“I’m confused.” Teague stepped closer, and the smell of the man’s fear sweat hit his nose. “You didn’t tell her to keep it a secret? Or you did because you thought it would keep her safe from my collectors? Which is it?”
“I . . . it was just to keep her safe.”
“Yet you were in the act of making her leave your shop and go back out
to the street. The street that was full of my employees, some of whom, I will admit, are a bit enthusiastic when it comes to taking unprotected members of the noble class into custody.” Teague raised a brow and waited for Edwin’s response.
The man swallowed and twisted his hands in the apron he wore at his waist. “She was going out the back way where it was safer—”
“You sent her out the back of the shop, on collection day, while her guards were standing at the front, unaware of her location, and begged her not to tell anyone she’d visited you. Is this correct?” Teague’s voice was dangerously calm.
Edwin remained silent, his expression miserable.
Teague lunged forward and shoved the man against the wall. His voice was a clap of thunder that shook the shelves and sent the jars of spices careening against one another. “You will answer me!”
“Yes!” Edwin raised trembling hands as if begging for mercy, but Teague wasn’t interested. He’d shown mercy to a human once, and look what it had cost him.
Mercy was for the weak. For the fools too ignorant to know they were being exploited.
Mercy was for those who didn’t have the stomach to destroy their foes.
Leaning close, Teague said softly, “Tell me why the princess was here.”
“She bought spices.” Edwin’s words were rushed. “I swear it. She bought spices.”
“Which spices?”
“Monkshood, basil, and cinnamon.” The man’s eyes darted toward the back door and then fixed on Teague again.
He was hiding something.
“And what else?”
Edwin frowned. “That’s all.”
“She didn’t ask questions about me?”
Edwin hesitated a split second before saying, “No.”
Teague smiled, slow and terrible. “Liar.”
“I promise, she only bought spices. That’s all—”
Teague wrapped his hand around Edwin’s throat and throttled him until he choked on his words and gurgled for air, his hands beating ineffectually at Teague. When Teague released him, Edwin slid down the wall, gasping.