Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,38

surprise. “A prisoner told you all this?”

I lift the bucket and fill the ewer with fresh water. “As I said, he was in a dungeon—an oubliette—and left to die. He had no one else to talk to, and it seemed important to learn what I could.”

“And did you?”

“Yes.” How much to tell her? I do not know how the queen feels about the Crunard family and will not risk exposing Maraud. At least not until I better understand the political implications. “I learned he was hidden away in the dungeon by order of the regent.”

“Why?”

I stare down at the washstand and try to hold off the nearly suffocating sense of loss thinking of Maraud always brings. “Something both he and I would like to know.”

“Where is he now?”

“I may have taken pity on him and freed him when I left.”

Sybella folds her arms and studies me as if I have just sprouted two small goat horns atop my head. “I can’t decide if that was honorable or stupid. Did you know why he was in prison? What if you released a murderous outlaw?”

“I told you, he was a soldier and, from his story, wrongfully imprisoned.” I remove a linen cloth from my belt and wipe at a drop of water that spilled. “It was becoming clear that the regent was no ally, and surely our enemies’ enemy is our friend.” I do not tell her that I was also irked at Count Angoulême and this seemed a way to muddy his life as much as he’d muddied mine.

“That is true sometimes, but you have no idea what his crimes were or who he will harm.”

“He will not harm anyone, except Cassel if they meet. Now, if you’ve finished interrogating me, I’ve come to offer my help. Father Effram told me what has happened.”

Her eyes burn with ire, as if she cannot believe Father Effram’s audacity, but bleakness lurks there as well.

“Let me help.”

“Very well.” She forces the words between her lips as if they were thorns.

“Surely it does not have to hurt so very much to accept it.”

She reaches out and grabs my arm, nearly causing my elbow to knock over the bucket. “I do not have time to coat my words in sugar and honey so they are easier for you to swallow. Two young girls’ lives hang in the balance. Will you help me or not?”

I do not pull away, but stare into her eyes, which are dark with fear, but not for herself. “Do you know where your sisters are?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

She lifts one slender shoulder. “I may be willing to trust you with my life, but not with theirs. Not yet, anyway.”

Fair enough. “It doesn’t matter. What needs to be done?”

“There is someone I must kill.”

At her words, a faint thrill runs through me. The convent’s work. “Who?”

“The lawyer Simon de Fremin. But it cannot look as if I have done so, for they know I am an assassin. And I do not have the king’s protection.”

“So you want me to kill him for you?” I try not to let my excitement show in my voice.

The look she gives me is one she might give a besotted fool. “To be clear, I will do the killing. I would not ask that of you. But I need help with access, supplies. A plan.”

I nod, waiting for her to continue.

“Fremin was sent by my brother to abduct my sisters. He has been given orders to take possession of them by fair means or foul. He is desperate. Furthermore, since the king knows you are an assassin too, we should avoid implicating you in the death as well. His fondness will only protect you so much.”

“Fondness is not the word you are looking for,” I mutter. “Fondness was booted out the palace door once I told him of the convent and my involvement with it.”

“Then why is he still summoning you?”

“Punishment. Humiliation. Loneliness. He wishes for us to go back to the way we were before I told him. So, tell me of this brother of yours who would kill a lawyer for acceding to an order from the king.”

Her face grows stark and drawn. “If you cross a d’Albret, you pay with your life.”

I take in her delicate features, her beauty. Even with her apparent lethalness I cannot believe she is related. “Is your brother named Pierre, by any chance?”

She grows unnaturally still. “Do you know him?”

I grimace. “Unfortunately, I have had occasion to meet him.” I remember his