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  Like the people at Fortress Rocks? Lila wanted to spit back. But she didn’t. Shadow had lost his betrothed in that Ardenine sneak attack, and that wound was too raw to poke at. She wouldn’t engage in a battle of the brokenhearted.

  Shadow was not the enemy.

  But he was wrong about her family. They wouldn’t flee. At first, they wouldn’t see the need. They were used to being overlooked, tolerated, left alone for a price. The war had been going on for thirty years, but neither side devoted time and treasure to rooting out smugglers. Their money spent just fine on both sides of the border. A deal was a deal.

  For centuries, her mother’s family had been driven from place to place by humorless people who did not understand the exquisite art of bargaining and resented being outfoxed. Who were suspicious of the islanders’ clannish ways. They’d been driven out of the Southern Islands two generations ago, when Arden took control. They’d landed here, at a place on the northern coast that came to be known as Smuggler’s Cove. It was cold in the north, and the terrain was rugged, the sea less forgiving, but the fishing was good in the shoals off Wizard Head. Lila knew all this from the stories her aunts and uncles told.

  Uncle Chas and Aunt Leah had been her surrogate parents—so different from sober, duty-bound Amon Byrne, with his eyes always fixed on the Gray Wolf queen. Had Lila been cut from the same cloth as her brother, Simon, she could have stepped in to replace him. She could have joined the family business. But she was not, and she had not.

  At first, Lila had moved back and forth between her aunt Lydia Byrne in Chalk Cliffs and her mother’s family at Smuggler’s Cove. Soon she was living with the smugglers full-time.

  Her uncle Chas played the fiddle and basilka, and he and Aunt Leah sang the songs that told stories. They had taught her how to dance, barefooted in fish houses with the tables shoved against the walls.

  Uncle Chas had also taught her how to dance on both sides of the law. He was the master of finding his way to yes, lubricated by a sly, self-deprecating humor that made people underestimate him. Her cousin Mack had taught her to navigate the coastal waters in the dark. “If you pay attention,” he said, “you can see the shoreline in your mind, you can feel the bottom coming up beneath your boat, you can skim across the surface like a water strider.”

  “Where will we go, when we have to leave here?” a six-year-old Lila had asked, upon hearing the old stories.

  “Next time, we will not run,” Uncle Chas had said, with no trace of humor. “Next time, we fight.”

  Lila knew, in her heart of hearts, that if she went down to the compound by the docks, where she learned all of those important lessons, she would find the bodies of those she loved. Unless they’d been carried off alive across the Indio.

  I should have been here, she thought. Not roaming the south, nannying the runaway prince, sabotaging Ardenine military capability, spying on King Gerard. She’d thrown in with a father who had all but abandoned her, leaving the family that had raised her unprotected.

  “It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Shadow said, as if reading her thoughts.

  “It would have made a difference to me,” she snapped.

  “You’re right,” Shadow said. “You’d be dead, too, or crewing for the empress.”

  “You don’t know that,” Lila said, swiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m so damned good. I just stole thirty women and children from under the nose of the king of Arden while my real family was being slaughtered.” She paused, and when he said nothing, broke her promise to herself. “Tell me you’ve never wished you’d been at Fortress Rocks when the Ardenine army attacked.”

  “Lila. Please. We have to go before we’re spotted.”

  “You go ahead,” she said. “I’m going to find my family and bury them.” And then I’m going after the empress. I’ll show her smuggler justice or die trying.

  This conversation was rich with irony. Lila was the one who was constantly trying to talk Shadow back from the abyss, to persuade him to go easy on his self-destructive habits. To talk him out of throwing his life away with some rash scheme. Now the tide was flowing in a different direction.

  “We can’t defeat the empress on our own,” Shadow said, returning like a dog to his favorite bone. “We have to work the plan.”

  “The plan is broken,” Lila said, staring down at the ruins of her childhood. “There is no plan.”

  “Then we have to make a new one.”

  Shadow, she thought, I don’t even know you anymore. But her gut said that if she insisted on going down to the water, he would insist on going down with her, and then he’d pay the price for her need for revenge. It could keep. A little while.

  “Fine. Let’s go,” Lila said, standing and dusting off the seat of her breeches. They returned to their horses and mounted up, turning their heads back west.

  They’d made this plan together—the plan to spirit away the thane families. Shadow had arranged for the wagons, lodging along the way—everything. Lila had planned on leaving their Ardenine refugees with her family on the coast while she returned south to work with Destin Karn to convince the southern king of the value of cooperation. Shadow was supposed to travel to Fellsmarch to pitch the notion of rapprochement with the south in order to fight the greater threat from the east.

  Ordinarily, Shadow was the last person she’d have picked as an ambassador for peace, but beggars can’t be choosers. She’d hoped that, coming from him, that argument would be more convincing. Now she had more incentive than ever to succeed, but Shadow was right. She needed a different plan for the hostages. Something that would allow her to be on her way as soon as possible.

  One thing she knew—she didn’t want to lose custody of her southern guests. They were the seawall that she hoped would prevent her life from washing away under her feet. If she took them to Fellsmarch, Queen Raisa and Captain Byrne would take control of them. They would be the ones making the decisions.

  Not only that, she’d worked out this complicated story with Matelon and Karn—to blame the kidnapping on the empress in an effort to bring the southerners into an alliance against Carthis. (If they believed that story, she had some flashcraft to sell them.) If the thanes’ families arrived in the capital, it would be only a matter of time before both the empress and King Jarat heard about it. Especially since Jarat seemed to have his own spies and sources in the north.

  Who? Not even Destin Karn seemed to know.

  Which meant that she needed to come up with an alternative hidey-hole before they reached Fortress Rocks, where they’d left the hostages while they traveled on to Wolf’s Head. It was a place that had once seemed impregnable, but not any longer.

  “Where can we put them where we can keep it a secret?” she mused aloud.

  “What about Hunter’s Camp?” Shadow said.

  “Hunter’s Camp?” Lila rolled her eyes. “That’s in the middle of nowhere.” Lila felt most at home in cities and towns, where she could melt into a crowd of scoundrels and people were in too much of a hurry to pay much attention to a girl working a scheme.

  “Isn’t that what you want? The flatlanders have never penetrated anywhere close to there. The hostages aren’t likely to run off with hundreds of miles of mountains to get through. Anywhere else, you’ll have to lock them up in a keep. I know you don’t want that.”

  “How do you know what I want?”

  Shadow just rolled his eyes and thrust his hands into his coat pockets. Shadow, who fit in everywhere and nowhere. “Marisa Pines Camp is another possibility. Willo Cennestre—my grandmother—is there. She would see to the health of the lýtlings—everything thrives under her care.”

  Truth be told, Lila wasn’t eager to have the clans assume control of the Southerners, either. Shadow’s father and grandmother were close to the queen. No doubt she would know of their presence in the time it took a bird to fly from Marisa Pines to Fellsmarch. She would probably send a salvo of Highlanders down to escort them to the palace.

 
“One thing for sure—they cannot go to the capital. Then everyone will know.”

  Lila did her best not to stare at Shadow. How did he read her so easily? How did he know what she was worried about? She looked up, met his eyes.

  “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘it takes a thief’?” he said. “It’s obvious that there are traitors in the capital. If you want your story to hold, the presence of the southerners must be kept hidden.”

  Lila raked a hand through her curls. “Let’s see how our guests are getting along with the uplanders at Fortress Rocks,” she said. “Then we’ll decide.”

  11

  FORTRESS ROCKS REUNION

  Parts of the town of Fortress Rocks had been rebuilt since it was all but destroyed in the Ardenine attack a year ago. There was a halfhearted, tentative look to the new buildings, as if confidence in the future of the town had waned. The temple was the single largest structure. It had been the first to be rebuilt, right after the completion of a stone perimeter wall, meant to make sure the town would have more warning in the event of another attack.

  This is like some kind of a disasters tour, Lila thought, shooting a look at Shadow. Back at Wolf’s Head, Lila had lost her past—the life and family she intended to return to. At Fortress Rocks, Shadow had lost his dream of a future. When they passed through the gate, he took a quick look around. They’d both learned not to assume that what you left behind would be there when you returned.

  Still, in the time since the massacre, Shadow had been back to Fortress Rocks a number of times. Does it ever get any easier? Lila wondered. Will I grow a thicker skin through constant exposure to pain?

  Most of the hostages had chosen to be housed in the temple, where they could stay together. It was crowded, but it was a palace compared to their quarters in King Gerard’s pits. The food was better, too, though it was a stretch for the town to feed fifty extra mouths.

  Shadow and Lila left their mounts at the town livery with orders for extra fodder, grain, and water.

  When they entered the temple, the evening meal was under way, served at a long table that ran down the center of the sanctuary. Lila’s mouth watered at the scents that wafted from the sideboard. Some of the lýtlings were already lined up for seconds. Three people stood behind the serving table, a man and two women, all in clan garb, ladling up stew.

  Lila squinted at one of the servers, a woman whose curly hair was pulled back with a leather tie. “Is that Queen Marina?” As soon as she said it, she knew it was true. King Jarat’s mother was serving up food to her son’s former hostages.

  Shadow stopped in his tracks. “Blood and bones,” he muttered. “The one next to her—that’s my grandmother.”

  “Shadow Dancer!” the second woman called. “It does my heart good to see you.” So the handsome older woman with the graying hair and the coat embroidered with Clan symbols was Shadow’s grandmother Willo Watersong. As matriarch of Marisa Pines Camp and a renowned healer, she was called Willo Cennestre in the uplands, signifying wisdom. Even Lila had heard of her, though they’d never met—until now.

  “Come share our hearth and all that we have,” the man said. It was Fire Dancer, Shadow’s father. Lila knew Dancer slightly—he and Shadow had worked together to supply flashcraft for some of her dodgy deals with Arden.

  But Willo was close to the queen. Lila’s heart sank. So much for keeping the presence of the hostages quiet.

  Shadow walked forward, with Lila trailing awkwardly behind. This was the world Shadow had chosen—scoured clean by the winds from the Spirit Mountains. High above the tawdriness of waterfronts and cities. A world she could never fit into.

  “Father. I’m surprised to see you here,” Shadow said, embracing Dancer and speaking Common for Lila’s benefit. “When did you leave the coast?”

  “The coast is not a good place to be right now,” Dancer said. “But I am going back soon, to join the fighting.” He smiled at Lila. “Lila, it’s good to see that you are back in the north again. Especially now.”

  “Right,” Lila said, distracted. She was watching Shadow greet his grandmother out of the corner of her eye. They embraced, and then the matriarch put her hands on either side of his face and looked him in the eyes, murmuring something to him.

  They remained like that for a moment or two, and then the matriarch dropped her hands and Shadow looked away. Willo shifted her attention to Lila.

  “Will you introduce me to your friend, Shadow?” Willo said, smiling.

  “Grandmother, this is Lila B-Barrowhill,” Shadow said, stumbling a bit over the last name. “She grew up on the coast. She is a trader of sorts.”

  When Lila took the matriarch’s hand, all of her usual bravado faded away. It was if Willo was gazing directly into her soul.

  “Ah,” Willo said. “It is a pleasure to meet you at long last.”

  At long last? What did that mean? Had people been telling stories about her? Had Shadow been telling stories? If so, what kind of stories?

  “Yes, ma’am,” Lila said, surfacing manners from somewhere. “The pleasure is mine.”

  “I’ve enjoyed visiting with your guests from the south,” Willo said. “It has been too long since I’ve seen Queen Marina.” She looked back at the southern queen, and the two women smiled at each other. “We’ve agreed that the last time must have been Briar Rose’s name day party. So many people were there who are no longer with us.”

  “I was telling Willo Cennestre that I’m worried about some of the lýtlings,” Queen Marina said. “This the first fresh, nourishing food they’ve had for some time.”

  “I know,” Lila said, feeling guilty, even though she hadn’t been responsible. “They’ve been held captive in the south for several months under poor conditions. Options on the road are limited.”

  “Options here are limited,” Willo said, “but we will do our best. Her Majesty has authorized the Demonai to bring foodstuffs up from Way Camp, since the long winter is over now.”

  “Her . . . Majesty?” Lila said. She cleared her throat. “Queen Raisa knows that they are here?”

  Willo hesitated. “Yes. She would have come herself to meet with you, but she is still quite ill.”

  “From the poisoning?” Shadow said. “I thought by now she would be recovering.”

  “She’s not left her chambers since it happened,” Dancer said.

  Lila looked from Shadow to Willo. “The queen was poisoned?”

  Shadow nodded. “Right before I came south to help with your operation in Ardenscourt.”

  “You never said anything,” Lila said, scowling at Shadow.

  “We’ve been busy,” Shadow said. “Besides, things are happening so fast, it’s hard to keep up in the telling.”

  How could I not know that? Lila thought. Miss a month, miss a lot.

  The Gray Wolf queen had always been a part of Lila’s life, whether she liked it or not. She had assumed that Queen Raisa would always be there, like Hanalea Peak, stones in her boots, or mosquitoes in the summer. It was oddly unsettling—the thought that she might not be immortal.

  “Who poisoned her?” Lila said.

  “I don’t think they know,” Dancer said.

  “Is the prince with her?” Lila didn’t ask about Captain Byrne. She knew he would be.

  Dancer shook his head. “I’m sorry I don’t have more details. We were in Marisa Pines Camp when we received a bird from Fellsmarch. The note was understandably brief.”

  “Well,” Lila said, eager to change the subject at a time when every possible topic seemed like a minefield. “You—you’re probably wondering what this is all about.” She gestured rather vaguely at the families, some of whom were washing up, preparing for bed.

  “Queen Marina has told us some of it,” Willo said, “although it seems that their arrival in the north was a surprise to them.” She raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s complicated,” Lila said, which seemed like the kindest word to apply to it. “Shadow is going to travel on to Fellsmarch
and meet with the queen’s council to explain.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Dancer said. “Your father sent me to speak with you before you go to the capital.”

  Lila stiffened, gooseflesh rising on the back of her neck. She planted a puzzled look on her face. “My . . . father? I don’t know what you—”

  “Captain Byrne,” Willo said. “He needs your help. He asks that you come to the capital with Shadow.”

  Lila looked from the matriarch to her grandson. She’d sneaked out of Fellsmarch after escorting the runaway prince back home in order to avoid being identified as Captain Byrne’s daughter and drawn into an awkward reunion and a tangled skein of questions.

  “Captain Byrne said this. Directly. To you?”

  Willo nodded.

  A person would think the captain of the Queen’s Guard would know how to keep a secret, especially one that she had so carefully nurtured. Lila took a quick look around, making sure nobody was close enough to hear. “I don’t know what he’d want with me,” she said, her voice low and hurried. “I’ve done some work for the queendom up to now, but as soon as I meet with the queen’s council, I need to go back east and—”

  “He says to tell you that it’s important,” Willo said. “He says, please come and hear him out.”

  Now Dancer spoke up. “Captain Byrne also said not to bring the southerners to Fellsmarch under any circumstances, and not to speak to anyone at court about them without speaking with him first.”

  Lila and Shadow looked at each other. She’d expected the queen to insist that the hostages be brought to the palace for debriefing and safekeeping. She felt a little deflated, like she’d been training for a fight that wasn’t going to happen.

  Why was the queen trying to keep the presence of the hostages secret? And from whom?

  “They would be welcome at Marisa Pines,” Willo said. “Or any of the upland camps.”

  “Not Marisa Pines,” Shadow said quickly. “It’s too close to the border. Maybe if we . . .” He looked up, startled, as the door banged open and four young women in clan garb burst in.