Page 75 of Sharpest Court

“Excellent strategy,” I said drily. “Hiding behind the only other person Goren wouldn’t mind tossing overboard.”

“Stop running around the deck like children,” Valeria called from beside her brother. “And don’t sing that song so close to Neyamay. It’s crude.”

“But it’s the only one that sounds good in my vocal range,” Lye said.

“Does it, though?” Dashiel muttered from his spot beside the hatch.

My lips twitched as Lye made an offended noise, released me, and plopped down on a neighboring barrel.

“Who’s the song about?” I asked, my hair blowing around me. I’d left my master key hairpin at the estate, and I felt somehow bare without it.

Lye shook out his own hair, the blond strands whipping across his forehead. “The man who got us into this mess. The First Emperor Saxon.”

“And Neyamay,” Dashiel added, nodding toward a strip of land in the distance, “is the island where Saxon killed the first Banarrati Hollows who’d opposed him.”

Hollows. Those whose bloodline would never hold specters.

I mentally replayed the song. “The poisoned tip . . . Is it a reference to dullroot?”

Lye nodded. “The legends say that Saxon was immune to the poison, making him unstoppable on the battlefield.”

The concept glittered like a jewel behind a sealed shop window—forever out of reach.

“It’s a myth,” Goren said roughly. “No one is immune to dullroot.” He glared at Lye. “Any Wielder would know that.”

Lye leaned back on his palms, unaffected. “You’re grumpy for someone who might get to use his axe in a few days. I’m sure it’s been burning a hole in your bed.”

I raised an eyebrow. “His bed?”

“Oh, Goren sleeps beside it. Cuddles it some nights, too.”

Dashiel choked on his laughter, and I couldn’t help but smile as Goren shot Lye a look so potent that he should’ve withered on the spot.

“If everything goes to plan,” Keil said, leaning back against the railing, “that axe will remain strapped to Goren’s back.”

Lye scoffed. “When has anything ever gone to plan?”

As their conversation continued, I stood and leaned forward against the railing, running through the plan in my mind.

The fete consisted of three parties, each known as a jolly, to represent the three nights that culminated in Saxon’s demise. Since Saxon’s tomb would be unguarded, retrieving the sword would be our easiest task. The true mission was locating the tomb, whose coordinates would be filed within Holden’s private office. Luckily, Dashiel and the Arcus siblings had often visited Banarrat on diplomatic missions with their fathers and had made the general’s office building their playground. They therefore knew where to find the unguarded service entrance.

So tonight, as the Arcuses entertained Holden during a late dinner, Dashiel and I were to sneak through the service entrance while Lye and Goren kept watch. And by the end of the night, we would have the sword’s location.

Staring across the sunlit waves, I wished that Tari were here for this mission. But according to Lye’s contacts, she and Amarie were safe in Vereen.

“And Tari hasn’t tried breaking into the palace?” I’d asked.

Lye had cocked his head. “Is that a usual weekend activity for her?”

“She wouldn’t have bought the story about me being stuck there with blueneck fever.”

“Then she’s doing a good job of concealing her suspicions, and rightly so. Erik visited your estate once, to officially greet her as the seat’s counsel. Though he hasn’t shown interest since, he could be watching her, seeing if you reach out.”

The idea of Tari interacting with Erik had filled me with such horror that I’d instantly talked myself out of the urge to make contact. Tari was safer without me right now.

Quietly determined, I drew the compass from my pocket. I’d held it over the water once before, deciding whether to let it fall. Whether being its keeper was worth the risk.

Though I wasn’t any closer to understanding the compass, I was now far closer to destroying it. And therefore closer than I ever had been to making my kingdom truly safe.