Sev’s mind raced. If Commander Cassian was hoping to bring proof of Rolan’s attack to the council as a means of undermining the governor, it seemed Lord Rolan was one step ahead. Surely Rolan wouldn’t willingly face the council if he knew he was subject to punishment for attacking Pyra without their consent? Something was off here.
“And you called it?” Sev pressed, brow scrunched up, as if trying to understand an extremely complex concept. “To ask for help, sir? For your next move?”
Sev knew he was being too curious, speaking out of turn and asking for information that he, as a lowly foot soldier, had absolutely no right to. But Lord Rolan was refilling his cup and seemed distracted enough that he answered without much thought.
“I’ll need their help if I’m to wage war. If I cannot eliminate the Phoenix Rider threat on my own, I will entreat my fellow governors to put soldiers and resources toward the cause. Of course, I must convince them there is, in fact, a threat—but that is another matter entirely.”
How could Lord Rolan convince the council that the Phoenix Riders were a threat if they weren’t?
Sev’s heart sped up to match the pace of his thoughts. He was missing something, some important piece of Rolan’s plans. But knowing about the Grand Council was at least something he could report back to Commander Cassian.
“Now, for the issue at hand,” Rolan said, snapping Sev out of his thoughts. Something in the man’s tone made a trickle of foreboding slip down Sev’s spine.
“Of the surviving soldiers, you are only the second from Captain Belden’s regiment.”
The second… Only two soldiers had survived from more than two hundred who’d first set out? The shock of it made the blood drain from Sev’s face. It shouldn’t have surprised him—Trix had intended to poison them all—but it was strange to speak of it here, in this cozy room, miles away from the blood and carnage.
“Who else?” Sev asked, his voice hoarse.
“Officer Yara,” Rolan said, head tilted as he studied Sev. “She was unharmed, and I have taken her statement. While the majority of my soldiers died in the fighting, many were sickened—and some killed—by the antics beforehand.” The botched poisoning. “But as she was attending Captain Belden for much of the night in question, her information is limited. And I need to pass down judgment.”
“Judgment, sir?” Sev asked faintly.
“Only two soldiers lived, but there were some bondservant survivors as well. Officer Yara escorted them back to the province with the help of soldiers from the other regiments as they fled after the fighting.”
Sev’s stomach clenched so painfully he lurched forward. Bondservant survivors?
“And so I will need your help identifying them—separating the loyal servants from the traitors. I’m afraid my store of animages has been drastically depleted. I’d hate to waste good help.”
Waste. That meant death. Sev’s blood turned to ice in his veins as he realized what Rolan was asking. He might have to point the finger at his fellow conspirators or lie and risk his own position in Rolan’s good graces.
“Can I count on you, Sevro?” Rolan asked softly.
“Yes, my lord.”
What if he recognized some of them? What if they recognized him and knew of his role in the poisoning? Would they point the finger at Sev to save themselves?
And, most pressing of all—what if Kade was among them?
* * *
As soon as Rolan left, Sev climbed from his bed and opened the window in his sitting area. The sky was purple outside, still clinging to the last vestiges of the day’s saturated sunlight, though most of the view was obscured by a large, leafy tree.
Sev paced for several minutes, until a gray pigeon fluttered onto the ledge. She was plain and unremarkable-looking—and that was the point. With a smile, Sev used a bit of magic to greet her and unearthed a piece of bread he’d hidden from his dinner. He broke it into pieces and set them on the windowsill. As the bird pecked and cooed, Sev flipped up the edge of the plush green-and-gold rug in the center of the room. It was beautiful and expensive, stitched with the horse-and-scythe pattern that was popular among the Stellan-made textiles.
There, hidden under the carpet, was a loose tile. Sev pried it up, revealing a leather-wrapped parcel. Inside there was paper and ink. As the wind rustled the leaves outside his window, filling his room with warm summer air and the bright citrus tang