vests from his pack, both marked with the stripes of a Pigeon courier. “My handler will be waiting in Magistrate’s Row. Then after that…”
“I know.” Even from the alcove, Fie could see their next target: the golden spires of the royal palace, carving into the sky like beacons.
CHAPTER TWELVE
FROM OUR ASHES
Khoda’s handler did not bother to give her name. She looked as if she could blend in among the Owl scholars, with deep mahogany skin and thick hair braided tight to her scalp. The orange embroidery on her violet robe marked her for a legal scribe—or at least a credible fake. It wasn’t quite the same orange hue as the roof tiles of Magistrate’s Row, but judging from the number of scribes darting between courthouses, record houses, and the Advocate’s Guild, that orange thread would let her go anywhere she pleased.
She also did not seem pleased to see Fie at Khoda’s heels, dark eyes flicking between the two of them. “Courier. What are your rates?”
“Ten naka to deliver inside Dumosa,” Khoda replied. “Four more inside the palace.”
The handler nodded, jaw tight, and said through her teeth, “Who else are you planning to recruit? A stray dog?”
Barf chose that moment to flop into the dust between them all and roll over for a belly rub. The handler closed her eyes.
Khoda nodded and held his hand out. His lips barely moved as he hissed back, “Tell me a Crow witch with a grudge and a bag full of teeth isn’t an asset. Besides, this is the one that got Jasimir all the way to Draga in the first place. She can manage herself.”
“And there won’t be a … distraction for you?” his handler asked pointedly.
Khoda coughed. “Women typically aren’t.”
Fie raised her eyebrows but said naught. She couldn’t help thinking Tavin would have been less thorny with Khoda if he’d known.
“Hmph. Four naka more for the palace.” The handler counted naka into Khoda’s palm with an air of significance that told Fie this wasn’t just about the coins. “So far, it’s been worth the new investment. We would have lost half our staff to a … policy change, if we hadn’t had early word. But it’s a risk to have someone so—”
“I’m keeping an eye on it,” Khoda said swiftly. “Where do you want this delivered?”
The handler blinked at him, gaze darting to Fie once again, then passed over two scrolls, two heavy clay tokens, and two slips of parchment. One read Ebrim Kamiro, Repairs Master, Maintenance Division; the other Yula Haovi, Cleaning Manager, Maintenance Division.
“Be quick,” the handler said. “Two dawns from now, the crown burns white.”
Fie had given up trying to parse their double meanings, but that one she got all too clear. Two days until Rhusana took the throne, and with her, the Oleander Gentry.
“The sun will rise,” Khoda said shortly.
His handler nodded, grim. “Even from our ashes.”
That seemed to be some sort of signal, for Khoda turned on a heel. Fie followed him, feeling the handler’s eyes on her as they strode from Magistrate’s Row.
“What in the twelve hells does that mean?” she hissed to Khoda once they were a respectable distance away.
“It’s our creed.” He handed her a scroll, a token, and a parchment slip. “It means we do whatever necessary to keep order. The master-general was right, Black Swans deal in the kind of secrets that can tear a nation apart. Our entire purpose is preventing that, no matter what. Even if we ourselves must burn.”
“Sounds uplifting,” she drawled.
Khoda tucked his scroll into his belt. “My creed is what kept Steward Burzo from sending your hair to the queen with the next message-hawk. I had to make a call about which was better for Sabor: keeping my own cover, or losing it to keep you free of Rhusana’s control. You know how I chose.”
“I don’t think the fate of the nation hangs on one Crow girl,” Fie returned.
He pursed his lips. “You’re just a Crow girl to people who benefit from you being just a Crow. From what I’ve seen, you’re a witch who can use every Birthright with the right tools, and you understand how to exploit what people expect of you. That’s how you got the queen to give you Phoenix teeth, how you fooled the master-general of the royal legions into saving your family, and how you convinced her to honor Jasimir’s oath. You don’t just survive, you turn tables on the most powerful people in the nation.” He shot a look at her.