Page 98 of Sword & Sacrifice

“We saw them meeting together,” Emmaline said, her voice quiet. “I thought my father was going to save Mama, but I didn’t expect him to pay for her safety with people’s lives.”

Silas breathed in deeply through his nose. He needed to think about this carefully. Alistair was the largest threat, but there were too many uncertainties. Was he really alive? Where was he? Were Penn, Adelaide—maybe even Archer—already fighting against him? But Varro was closer and still had allies imprisoned nearby. “What do you know about Varro’s plans?”

“Not enough,” Moira replied. “But I can tell you all about Everett and his crew. Isn’t that right, Echo?”

Echo scrambled to their feet and saluted Silas. “Former crew member of the Eyolf, Raphael Hackett, at your service.” Then they winked and asked, “Ready?”

Silas’s brow furrowed. “For what?”

“A grand performance.”

Captain Moira sighed. “Echo, you don’t need to—”

“We’re happy to trade the witch and guarantee legitimate trade routes between Bellacosta and our allied kingdoms.” Echo’s lips moved, but Varro’s deep, familiar voice poured from their mouth.

A shiver went down Silas’ spine at the perfect mimicry. A phantom hand closed around his throat as he remembered the last time he’d personally faced Varro, when the general had tried to strangle him.

“In exchange, you will take your ships—all seven of them, Everett, don’t think we’ll be satisfied with half-assed efforts—to Bellacosta’s shores, carrying me and my men. We’ll attack together, take out that idiotic boy-king, and establish proper order in the kingdom again. I trust we have your support?” Echo looked at Silas expectantly, as if waiting for a response to their question.

“Sit your ass down,” Moira muttered, grabbing the end of Echo’s shirt and dragging them back into their chair.

Silas cleared his throat, pushing past the imaginary chokehold to ask, “Do we know when or where they plan to attack?”

Echo pursed their lips and confessed, “We were discovered before we could get those details.”

“It would take time to gather his crew,” Moira said. “But I suspect they’ll arrive any day now.”

Silas nodded. “Thank you for the information. We’ll make what preparations we can to guard against the attack.”

“The Queen’s Garden is willing to stay and help you defend your shores,” Moira offered.

“For a price, I assume.” One he didn’t know if they could pay. They were still reviewing the contents of the Vault, but it was clear the thieves had taken a decent chunk of the palace’s funds. Then there’s the salaries of the cleaning crew, the cost of repairs to the palace, the new treaty with Arnsveld,

“Shipping contracts,” Moira said bluntly. “I want my crew established in legitimate trade routes.”

Silas looked at Cal. “That’s more the Guild’s area than mine.”

“As long as I remain the head of it,” Cal replied tentatively.

“They’ve refused to elect anyone in your absence, since officially, you were on a routine trade mission.”

Griselda snorted. “Or running away from a coup. Were you afraid it would fail or succeed?”

Silas watched Cal carefully, also concerned with the answer. Cal had never been Silas’ biggest supporter—in fact, they openly butted heads on several occasions, including inviting Archer to visit.

Cal locked eyes with Silas. “Officially, you ordered me to visit Percosa to finalize a trade agreement. Unofficially, I already suspected you were not … yourself. I could either cooperate and participate in the ruination of my own kingdom, or I could leave to find allies elsewhere. Unfortunately, the ship I was on conveniently ran into a maelstrom while we were out to sea. If The Queen’s Garden hadn’t been nearby, I would have drowned with the rest of the crew.”

So Alistair allowed Cal to leave but never intended to let him live. Alistair had done the same to Silas, allowing Archer to take him away only to try to drown him in a river later. “I hope you’ll understand that it might take some time for me to trust you again, Adviser.”

Cal nodded, seeming relieved by the formal address.

“The palace is undergoing some reconstruction,” Silas said delicately. He didn’t have the energy to explain the fire and everything else right now. “So I don’t know the state of your office and old rooms, Cal, but Strider Morten should have more information for you. As for everyone else, I can find somewhere for you to stay in the recently cleaned rooms.”

“My crew and I will remain on the ship,” Moira replied as she stood up.

“Not me,” Echo piped up, thankfully with their own voice. “I’ll keep an eye on dear, sweet Em here. Make sure she settles in all right.”

Moira rolled her eyes. “And I’m sure that has nothing to do with silk sheets and down pillows.”