through me. Where is he? Panic speeds my heart as I look at face after unfamiliar face. And then—a glimpse of copper hair at the far side of the ballroom, near the north entrance. Relief fills me and I shoot toward Brekken, avoiding the veins of silver set into the walls, as he turns his head, his familiar sharp profile coming into view. But then I see who he’s talking to.
Cadius Winterkill.
A stillness sets in. A feeling of calm, cold anticipation. Play your cards right, Brekken, I think, and skirt the room toward them, deliberately casual, keeping my head turned toward the orchestra as if that’s my destination. Keeping Brekken and Cadius in my peripheral vision, I can see that the lord of Winterkill looks loose, drunk. He laughs uproariously at some undoubtedly hilarious joke, and Brekken laughs along with him, tipping his head back. Gradually, carefully, I edge close enough to hear their conversation. Which is in English, thank God. I wonder if Brekken steered them that way, or if Winterkill is putting on airs, using the language of the privileged, of the delegates.
“I’d love to learn how one conducts a business from a man such as yourself,” Brekken says, leaning heavy on the charm. “Everyone says you’re the best.”
“I am,” Cadius boasts, his voice wavery with drink.
His back is to me, but the arrogance is clear in the set of his shoulders and his swaggering walk. I can’t help the thoughts that cloud my mind. How did my mother ever love him? How would she feel to know what he’s become? Or was he this way all along, concealing his true self beneath the charming exterior, lying with every breath up to the moment he betrayed her?
It’s enough to send a shiver of terror through me. If Mom could fall for a guy like this … how can I trust that anyone is who they seem?
I manage to catch Brekken’s gaze over Cadius’s shoulder. Brekken’s eyes widen a little, then go soft with relief. All of it too subtle, hopefully, to be discerned by Winterkill or anyone else.
“Will you show me a token of your success?” Brekken presses, lowering his voice.
I have to strain to hear it. Even just watching the exchange, my heart speeds up. It’s a bold move, bolder than I’d expect from careful Brekken. But if it works …
Cadius hesitates for a second, but then he nods and draws back toward the exit, beckoning. I can’t see his expression, but I imagine it as fraternal, conspiratorial. I guess this is the same across all the worlds—that for evil men, the profit of corruption isn’t always enough. They want to be seen, recognized, their genius acknowledged. Even when it’s risky.
Catching Brekken’s gaze again, I nod at him and mouth, Go. My pulse is racing. This wasn’t part of the plan, but we’d be stupid not to take the chance dangling before us. Brekken nods back, minutely, and follows Cadius out the door. I wait a moment, and then follow too, at a distance. I grab a half-full goblet of wine from a side table as I go, in case I need to feign drunkenness at some point.
Early on, the halls are crowded with Fiordens, milling about, drinking, talking, and laughing. But they empty out quickly as Cadius leads Brekken along, speeding with drunken purpose. Soon, the estate seems deserted but for the three of us, and I fall farther back to escape notice, as far as I can without letting the two men out of sight. Down hallways, around bends, up staircases.
My nervousness grows the farther we go. We are clearly past the places meant for guests; the alcoves with their taxidermied animals have given way to simpler, though still ostentatious, decoration. Paintings and gaudy tapestries and vases of pale flowers adorn this part of the castle. If someone catches me this far from the ballroom, I’ll have no plausible explanation for being here, goblet or no goblet.
I slow my pace again, listening for the sound of Cadius’s heavy footsteps up ahead to guide my own since I can’t hear Brekken’s. Two things inexplicably fly through my head: What would I tell Marcus if I lost you? And What would I tell your dad if something happened to you?
So much fear. It governs every move in our family. We don’t want to lose any more than we already have. But it feels like no one except me remembers that life isn’t a series of losses. We