“In that case, do you want to know the best way to kill one? Or shall we find a way to control him, before he controls you? Because he will try. Remorian mages always want control.”
Oh, my little laceflower, I love you. Rillen kissed her soundly, loving the way her eyes lit up, the way she seemed to come alive at his touch.
“Well, then,” he said at last. “Let’s go and find our mage. And seal my place as the new Yelen. No council now. Just me. And you.”
* * *
Holden and Skrymir ran back to where they’d forced Josie to wait with Tallia and Haban, impatience in every twitch of the sword in her hand, in every jingle of bells when she tapped her feet.
“Well?” One eyebrow arched, trying for confidence, her sharp words that covered everything, almost. She was too brittle and Holden could see through the cracks to her terror.
Skrymir didn’t wait for Holden to speak, but grabbed her round the waist and hoisted her up. He ignored the teeth, the knees and elbows, and half-carried, half-dragged her away. “They’re going to hang him. He’s back in the cells, with a host of guards, and we’re leaving.”
“We are sodding well not!” She wriggled out of his grasp and stood square before him, her sword loose but ready, even against Skrymir. “I’m not. I can’t.”
Skrymir’s face twisted, with regret perhaps, deep thought creasing his forehead. “You are. I promised, Josie. I oathed, to you. On my soul. I oathed to keep you safe as I could, and I have. I promised Van, before. He wants me to keep on keeping that oath, and I will. Don’t make me break it, not another. We have to go, and now, before half the palace descends on us.”
She looked down, a Josie Holden had never seen before. She’d always seemed so confident, always knowing exactly what she was doing and why, and the rest of the world would just have to fall into place around her. Now her fingers worked on the sword hilt, her eyes blank as she searched inside somewhere. All was torn away from her, all her games, her pretence, the sharp words that hid her from the world.
“I can’t leave him here,” she said at last. “We can’t.”
“We can,” Holden said. “And we have to. Right now. But not for good, Josie. Van Gast says you’ve got the twistiest mind he’s ever seen. We’ll think of something, some way. But unless we get out now, we’re as dead as he is.”
A shout from behind underlined his words, punctuated by a bullet that puffed out plaster from the wall by Holden’s head. They ran, all of them, to the sound of bells endlessly praying.
* * *
“What do you mean, they escaped?” Rillen advanced on the luckless guard sent to inform him of Josie and Skrymir’s break for freedom.
“I—I—” The guard swallowed heavily and gathered himself. “Another two jumped the guards on their way to the river, before they even left the palace.”
Holden and Tallia, no doubt. Holden, that made sense. But why Tallia? Why was she involved with racks? I can deal with this, I can. My plan can still work.
Rillen surprised the guard with a tight smile, rather than the fist or worse the man had obviously been expecting. “Make every effort to catch them. Every effort. One of them knows the palace, so check all the little-used passageways. Man every door, every window if you can find the men for it. Skrymir at the least should be easy to spot.”
The guard hurried out, like a man unexpectedly set free from a death sentence.
Rillen stared at the shut door. “What do you think?”
“They’ll try to rescue him, you know that,” Ilsa said from the low couch. The rustle of silk on linen was intoxicating. “But you can use it too.”
They would come for Van Gast, no doubt. At the hanging. Well, best be sure that guards were looking for them.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” He sat next to her, watched her as she thought.
“A trap there. And the mage?”
Ah yes, the mage. To keep him, harness his power, the fear men held for him and his bond? Or to be rid of someone who knew what he had done? Who could discredit him with a blink? Once he was established, that would matter less. Now, it was critical that he be seen to be blameless before the traders. A hint that he’d stolen their