Page 57 of Reap & Sow

“Careful, High Governor. Your position might grant you authority over most, but not I. Or have you forgotten who it was that secured you this grand house?” Kit’s smile was unkind. “Everything you have, you have because of me.”

Wolfram stiffened.

Eda looked between them. Wolfram and Kit had made a Pact, but she’d barely believed it until now. The High Governor was the figurehead of the city, elected representative and chief overseer of all those within. He was supposed to be above reproach. Fitting, she supposed, that Blackbridge’s leader would be corrupt. What of the High Governors in the other great cities—Alderport, Dawnmouth, Netherton? Had they come by their seats honestly, or had they, too, struck a nefarious deal to win gentry votes?

“I could hardly forget.” Wolfram’s eyes flicked toward Eda. “I have paid and continue to pay my debt.”

“Don’t worry about her. Eda Shaw is privy to our dealings.”

Wolfram’s head snapped around. “You cannot discuss the terms of our agreement with anyone!”

“I did not…directly. Miss Shaw came to me with prior knowledge. I merely failed to correct her.”

Wolfram regarded her with fresh wariness. “You’ve made another Pact.”

Eda disliked how they spoke about her as though she had no mouth of her own. She tried to keep the scorn from her voice as she said, “I’m sorry for the impertinence, sir. I am not here to—to blackmail you or threaten you in any way. I simply need your help.”

“Oh? How is it, then, that you found Kit’rath in the first place? What knowledge did you have of our connection, and how did you come to gain it?”

Eda faltered. Now likely wasn’t an opportune time to mention her working alongside Severin Lich. “That is…complicated.”

He sneered. “I imagine it is.”

“Let us stay on topic. You know only the lies told about Eda Shaw. Rest assured, she’s not the villain you seek.” Kit slunk about the margins of the room, trailing fingertips over paintings and bronze candelabras.

“She has made a Pact with you,” Wolfram said. “I’d wager that tells me enough of her character to warrant suspicion.”

“So the pot called the kettle…”

“I don’t claim to be exempt. But the point stands. If not the girl, then who must answer for setting nightmarish beasts upon this city?”

Eda looked to Kit. He spared her a raised eyebrow. Guess that’s my cue. “It isn’t my doing, Governor. The man responsible is called Florian Fane.”

Abelard’s eyes widened. “You accuse a cleric of the Faith?”

She took a breath and explained as concisely as she could. About her father’s Pact and her indentured servitude. The night the bishop came, her desperate bargain with Kit. All she did not mention was Lich and his desire for the mirror. She finished by saying, “Now I need to get them back, sir. My brothers.”

“More pertinently,” Kit drawled, “I need to get them back. In order to fulfill this Pact, the Shaw boys must be freed from Fell Keep.”

“For pity’s sake. I have no power over the Faithhood, nor the Blades. You know this.”

“I do. But our task will be a more viable should we understand what waits for us at the keep, in and out. You can help in that.”

Wolfram scoffed. “And why would I? Do you know the trouble you’ve caused, Kit’rath, having the Blades discover you as they did on Harecourt Road? Twenty years I’ve paid for that apartment, keeping you in the most private of comforts, and in one afternoon all is unearthed. Tenelle is like a dog with a bone. I’ve destroyed every last paper trail linking me to the building, yet I fear it still isn’t enough. The Blades are—”

“I thought you had them on your payroll,” Kit mused dryly, inspecting his nail beds.

“Some, yes, but Martine Tenelle is not a woman to be bought. She should never have risen to such rank.”

“Because she’s honorable?” Eda posed before she could stop herself. And got where she is without making any illicit bargains, I imagine. No doubt Tenelle was a better person than any of them standing in this room. The woman might have wanted Eda’s head, but she was admirable all the same.

Wolfram’s eyes narrowed. “I’d curb that cocky tongue, young lady. The gallows are being prepared even now for the month’s hangings. Your brothers shall be among them, I hear. The day after autumn harvest.”

Eda blanched. Just over a week away. Fane would not kill her brothers before the harvest—he’d sworn so to Mr. Night—but if the demon did not kill them when the deadline passed, Fane would. It seemed he planned to waste no time.

Kit glanced at her. “Even more reason to resolve these tedious issues quickly, Abelard. I’m not asking.”

“And if I refuse? My coin is still yours. You cannot harm me so long as our Pact stands.”