Heirs of Chrior: The Empty Throne Part 30

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

THE WRETCH.

Shea did indeed pay me a visit the next morning. She was a little thinner than I remembered-hopefully due to sleepless nights following her betrayal-but otherwise looked much the same, her brown eyes lively, her dark hair pulled up off her neck in a ponytail tied with a blue ribbon to match her dress.

I hated her a little bit for how well she looked-she should have grown horns or been marked by boils for her actions.

"It's good to see you, Anya," she quietly said, standing beside Tom, who had ushered her into the room. He crossed to the window, exhibiting no intention of leaving us alone.

"Shea," I answered, trying to force a smile that felt more like I had bared my teeth.

Tom glanced at us, then pressed a hand against the window pane, pulling it quickly away as though it stung. "It just got a bit frosty in here. You two must have had quite the fight."

Shea managed a feeble smile, while I ignored the jest, and he shrugged, moving to sit in a chair in the corner of the room. She watched him, then approached me to extend a small package she held in her hands. I reluctantly accepted it, not wanting her to think I'd forgiven her but unable to fling it against the wall with Tom nearby.

"It's not much," she said, not meeting my gaze. "But I saw it in a shop near my father's and remembered you liked it."

Curiosity engaged against my will, I pulled off the ribbon and opened it. Inside on a silver chain was a pendant of stained gla.s.s in the shape of Faerie wings, its colors and design eerily reminiscent of the green, gold, and ice blue of my own wings. It was just like the one I'd admired at a street vendor's display when Shea and I had previously been together in Tairmor.

"The proceeds of the sale go to Fae aid groups," she reminded me, and I briefly closed my eyes, the fact that she knew me so well like a stab in my heart.

"Thank you, it's beautiful."

She sat gingerly in the chair beside the bed, and we lapsed into silence, small talk seeming frivolous, but our ability to discuss matters of significance limited by Tom's presence. With a heavy sigh, she finally took her inimitable direct approach, though she spoke in an undertone.

"I have some important information for you, Anya. Some things Spex and I found out."

I sat up straighter, for despite my desire to give her the cold shoulder, she now had my full attention. She raised her brows, tipping her head slightly toward Tom, and I made a plea for privacy.

"Tom, I'm feeling lightheaded-I should have eaten more breakfast. Would you be willing to get me something?"

He glanced up from the newspaper he was making a show of reading.

"No. Especially when all you're trying to do is get rid of me."

Shea and I both scowled at him.

"You're right," I admitted after a beat. "I'm not all that hungry, but still, we should have the right to discuss things of a private nature in private."

"No. This may come as news to the two of you, but I actually have very good hearing. I'm not going to leave when Shea is about to share some important information with you." He waved a hand dismissively at us. "So talk or don't talk. Either way, I'm not going anywhere."

Shea turned to face me, her expression revealing her uncertainty.

I shrugged. "I need to know, and I suppose we have to trust someone among the humans." To Tom, I added, "Pretend you're part of the wall and don't interrupt."

Shea took a shaky breath and began. "On the night you broke into Sandrovich's home, Spex took off with the...dagger...not wanting it to end up in the hands of the..."

"Constabularies," Tom supplied, and I fought the urge to throw something at him. Instead, I shot my best glower in his direction.

"Go on, Shea," I encouraged, almost forgetting I was angry with her. I was quite interested in what had happened to Spex after I'd been taken to the station house.

"Well, he brought the dagger to me. He knew I'd essentially traded information in order to bring my family home to Tairmor, and he was thinking of doing the same thing."

"So he was hoping to exchange the dagger for his family's freedom?" My face flushed, irritation with Spex rapidly mounting.

"Wait a minute," Tom broke in, his look of consternation telling me he knew nothing of our fiasco in Sheness. "I thought Thatcher said you raised money to pay off his debt."

"I did," Shea irritably replied, her gaze continually shifting between the Constabulary and me. "I turned in a criminal I saw on a wanted poster for the reward money."

Tom's eyes narrowed, but I cut him off, not about to let him pursue that path. If he put two and two together, Shea's life might once again be in jeopardy.

"And just who did you contact? And when?"

She wrung her hands, looking suitably miserable. "I ran an errand early one morning-you a.s.sumed I'd just gone to the market-and went to the nearest Constabulary station. I'd seen it when we were out walking. The head of the station house made the deal, put it in writing for me, official seal and all. Later on, when everything was over, I went back to the Constabulary station. Two of their officers escorted me to Tairmor, where I met with Luka Ivanova. He had papers signed by the Governor releasing my father's debt. Because the reward was more than I needed, he made arrangements to secure our old house for us and to set up a store for my father. And he had some of his men accompany me to the Balsam Forest to bring my family back to the city."

"How marvelously simple," I seethed, gut wrenching at the thought she had returned to Aunt Roxy's after her initial visit to the station house as though nothing were amiss. What a good actor she had turned out to be. "Why did you bother to come back at all?"

"I still wanted to help, and I didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry, Anya, I truly am. I just couldn't see any other way."

Turning to Tom, I asked, "Did you know about any of this? About the arrangements Luka made?"

"No, I didn't. All I knew was that Pyrite had been arrested, although even that information was carefully guarded."

I could tell he again wanted to raise questions of his own, but I forestalled him with a warning. "Remember, you're supposed to sit there and be quiet. Otherwise, we'll just end this little reunion of ours."

He grabbed his newspaper and repositioned himself in his chair, for he was learning a lot just by listening in to our conversation.

"Go on, Shea," I said through gritted teeth. "You said Spex intended to exchange the dagger he had for his family's freedom."

"That was the ploy he had in mind. What he was really proposing was a chance to climb the chain of command, so to speak. You see, he'd come to agree with Pyrite's a.s.sessment that justice was eventually going to be meted out to his family and was willing to try to help us-I mean you."

Shea blushed, clearly fl.u.s.tered by her slipup. But I could see in her eyes the longing she felt to once more be my friend, to be part of "us." I wasn't sure I was ready for that.

"Spex and I talked to my father to see if he could give us any help-you know that piece already. It was a place to start, and we followed the lead to the extent we could." She leaned closer and gripped my hand, her eyes suddenly bright with fear. "Anya, this organization is much more complex than we ever dreamed-layers and layers of command, with many different operational facets. It's like the whole thing is set up so no one person will know everything that's going on."

"There has to be at least one person who knows everything-that's the person we have to ferret out. So what did you learn?"

"Well, Spex never brought the item with us to any of the resulting meetings, but he would describe it in detail, and he kept insisting he wouldn't negotiate with any lackeys. We thought we'd blown the whole thing until we received a message that told us where to meet the person with the power to make the deal." An involuntary shudder pa.s.sed through her body. "Only we had to meet him down in the tunnels."

I sat back, chilled to the bone. The tunnels beneath the city would certainly be a private and secretive place to meet, but also a very dangerous one.

"And did you? Meet the man with the power to make the deal with you?"

"Yes, I was horribly afraid, but we both wanted to help you. And I felt I owed it to you...to try to make amends."

Shea plucked at her leggings, then glanced at Tom, clearly nervous about what conclusions he might be reaching.

"Spex hid the item," she continued, "afraid we'd never make it out alive if we took it with us. And he was right to do so because the man we met with is terrifying. It was dark, and he wore a cloak, a mask covering his face. He was like the voice of the shadows themselves."

Shea trembled, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tom's head jerk up-something in particular had attracted his interest.

"He was angry, Anya, very angry, when he realized we hadn't brought what he wanted, but Spex said he needed a show of good faith. He said he'd turn over the knife only if his sister was released. That's when things went wrong."

My nerves now felt taut enough to snap, and I no longer cared what Tom was hearing or the conclusions he might be drawing. Shea swallowed hard, then continued her story.

"The man said I had to stay with him for collateral, and that we'd meet again the next night-he'd bring Spex's sister and Spex would bring the dagger."

"Nature, Shea, you must have been scared to death!"

"I was." She gulped for air, the color draining from her cheeks. "The man, referred to as the Wretch by those who had arranged the meeting, left me in the tunnels that night and all the next day, locked in a cage down in the cavern where we found the colony of Sepulchres. It was cold and damp, and the creatures would approach the cage to touch me with their long, spindly fingers. I kept worrying that Spex wouldn't return, that I'd just...die down there, and my family would never know what happened to me.

"But Spex did return. And the Wretch had his sister with him. So even though he didn't want to do it, he thought he had no choice but to turn the dagger over." Family first, Anya, always, echoed in my head-Zabriel's words, haunting me. "But this man, he doesn't negotiate or play fair."

Shea's voice choked, and tears welled in her eyes.

"What happened, Shea?" I exhorted, her distress tearing at my heart.

"The man released me, then Spex stepped forward to hand over the dagger in exchange for his sister. But once the Wretch had the knife in his hands, he...he..."

"What, Shea, what did he do?"

"He slit the sister's throat, didn't he?" It was Tom who had spoken. He had left his chair and was now striding forward to join us.

Shea nodded and looked down at her hands, and a teardrop splattered upon them. "There was blood everywhere, and Spex... It was too late, the man had disappeared into the shadows, leaving him screaming and bawling." Shea met my eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. "And then he picked up his sister...he couldn't leave her behind...and carried her out of the tunnels and back into the city. That's the last I saw of him, Anya. I have no idea what may have become of him."

All my anger, any residue of hatred I still harbored for Shea, left me in that moment, and I took her into my arms. As Zabriel had said, we all did what we had to do. But this was something she and Spex had done for me, and the horror of it humbled me.

"d.a.m.nation, you two, what have you gotten yourselves mixed up in?" Tom demanded, probably more aware of what such a man was capable of doing than were either of us. When we didn't reply, he put a hand on Shea's shoulder, drawing her away from me so he could examine her face. "Shea, what did you say this man looked like?"

There was urgency in Tom's voice-almost a fear-that I didn't understand, and it alarmed me anew.

"What's the matter, Tom?" I demanded, my palms sweating.

He ignored me, repeating the question he had put to Shea. "What did this man look like? It's important."

"It was dark, and he wore a cloak and a mask-a complete mask-over his face."

"Height?"

"Tall, but shorter than my father."

"Build?"

"Hard to tell, but not overweight."

"And the mask. Can you describe the mask?"

"It was white with holes for the eyes. Only it was painted, more like shaded, to look like there were bones. His face looked like a skull."

Tom moved to the wall, leaning against it for support.

"You're scaring me, Tom," I blurted. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I've seen him, Anya. I've seen the man Shea is describing, the man she calls the Wretch."

"What? Where?"

"Outside The River's End pub near the Fae-mily Home. I was making my rounds, and I saw him standing in the shadows, just for a moment. Then he disappeared."

"Are you sure?"

"He has a rather distinctive look. Bizarre enough that I actually thought I was imagining things-like maybe I'd inhaled a little too much smoke."

"How long ago was this?"

"I'm not sure, but it's since you returned."

It fell deathly quiet in the room-there wasn't even the sound of breathing. Then Tom straightened, his jaw clenched.

"I think we'd better bring Luka into this. The Wretch is a dangerous sort. Who knows what trouble might trace back to him."

I stared at him, my mind working furiously, for I didn't want to bring anyone else into this, let alone the Lieutenant Governor. I didn't yet know who could be trusted. Hoping it would help to steady my voice, I took a deep breath.

"No, it's too soon. We don't know enough about what's going on. Until we do, there's no need to involve Luka."

Tom's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Anya, this Wretch, whoever he is, was outside a pub that is a major distribution point for Cysur. And we suspect some of the Cysur is bad-too strong, or laced with some other substance, and causing deaths. He could be part of that. If for no other reason, I think we need to talk to Luka. People's lives are at stake."

"No!"

I threw my covers aside and leaped to my feet, almost shooting straight up in the air, wanting to shout that Fae lives were at stake, and not just due to Cysur. Shea pulled away from me so violently she almost tipped over in her chair, alarm radiating from her. Tom stared at me, his gray eyes murky, the tendons in his neck so tight they stood out like thick ropes.

"It's too soon," I pled, trying to temper my outburst. "We don't know who might be behind these things. We could end up warning those involved rather than stopping them."

"Do you suspect Luka?" Tom ground out.

"I suspect everyone, but, no, not Luka especially." I bit my lip, then sat on the edge of the bed, ready to take a gamble on Officer Matlock. "I suspect Constable Farrier."

He stiffened, and for a moment, it appeared he had turned to stone. I had clearly delivered a blow, and I fretfully waited, unsure what his reaction would be. He stared, taking several deep breaths, as though he had just sprinted to a finish line, but his voice was steady when he spoke.

"It's time you explain what's really going on, Anya. And I need to know all of it."

"I will. But, Shea, you should leave now. You've given me more information than I could have hoped for. It's time for you to go home and take care of your family."

She nodded, then leaned toward me to exchange one last hug. Casting a slightly skeptical glance at Tom, she departed, and he moved to take her place in the armchair beside the bed, eyes fixed on me.