Chapter 11 Ren Monroe

It took some convincing, but her mother agreed to stay behind in the safety of their room. Ren had located the neighborhood doctor, who dispatched a nurse for the purpose of stitching the wound. Ren oversaw the first half of the procedure until she was certain the nurse knew what she was doing. As she gathered her things, her mother offered one final piece of advice.

"Don't screw it up."

Ren rolled her eyes and left. They'd mapped a route to her destination that kept her on the main thoroughfares. She held no delusions that this meant she was guaranteed to arrive safely, not after what happened with her mother. As she walked, she kept one hand on the horseshoe wand tucked into her waistband. Ren Monroe had no plans of being caught off guard.

Instead of danger, though, the city offered its most enchanting self. The sun had just dipped below the shoulders of the nearest buildings. Street lanterns were being lit, one by one. No enchantments, as it was done in Kathor's Lower Quarter. Just an old man busying himself with a task that would charm a new world onto the streets for the evening. Ren navigated over three separate bridges before sensing a subtle shift in her surroundings. The call of hawkers vanished. The market sprawl fell away. Here, she saw couples on evening strolls. A mother was kneeling down, tending to a child who was eager to get back to his play. Ahead, she spied the crowded fish house that was her destination.

The place was known, rather charmingly, as the Severed Head. Mat Tully's note had boasted about the quality of their bread, and Ren saw plenty of seated customers ripping great chunks of sourdough to be dipped into a variety of spiced chowders. It all smelled delightful.

Ren did not allow such comforts to dull her senses. As Mat flagged her down, she eyed the rest of the restaurant, memorizing where people were seated and at what angles. She would not be taken by surprise if Mat Tully turned out to be less trustworthy than she hoped. Mat had already had a glass of wine and now he was sipping a second. Apparently, her poor contact had enough money for drinks.

"You came," he said with a wide smile. "I wasn't sure you would."

Ren shrugged into a chair. "I'm here. Did you locate them?"

Mat let out a laugh. "Gods. Always so serious. Yes. It wasn't easy, though. They'd left their last apartment for another. Pretty common around here. There's a lot of price shifting. Landlords will gouge someone if they feel like they've come into more money. It's not regulated at all.…"

Ren made a noise. "While I do find city ordinances fascinating, I'd like to remain focused on the task at hand."

That earned another laugh from Mat. "Of course, of course. I visited their old flat. For a small fee, I learned that a woman named Cath Invernette stopped by to provide their new address for…" Mat frowned midthought. He tugged a journal out of his breast pocket, flipped a few pages, and found the note. "… for a shipment of fabric? She wanted to be sent word if the delivery arrived at the old address."

While Ren would have preferred to make first contact in a public setting—a business or out for drinks at a tavern—she would certainly not turn up her nose at a home address. She also mentally noted the name Cath Invernette. Was that an alias? A contact? A friend?

"Is it far from here?"

Instinctively, Ren reached for the journal. Mat was quick, though. He leaned back in his chair and tucked the journal back in his pocket. A broad grin surfaced.

"Apologies. Nothing against you, Ren, but I need the money first. The Winters family has shattered my trust in the concept of future payments. I have no plans of being stiffed again."

Ren nodded. "Fair enough. How much?"

"Make me an offer."

It was an annoying tactic, even if it was clever. He had no idea how much money Ren had in reserve for this supposed mission with House Brood. Mat certainly knew just how deep their coffers were, but forcing her to make the first offer was a fine test. Too low and he'd never take her seriously. He might even doubt her story about working for the Broods. Too high, though, and Ren and her mother would be left with very little money to navigate back home with. She could not access all her accounts while in Ravinia.

"I can pay two hundred—but only if you escort me directly to the address."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really? That's all? You're about to be handed the actual location of the people you're searching for—and you can only spare a day's wage?"

"I have other means of finding them," Ren noted. "Dahvid fights in the gladiator pits. All I have to do is attend a match.…"

Mat's grin widened. "He's scheduled to fight two weeks from now. If you can afford to wait that long—and pay for room and board—then surely you can do better than two hundred."

"Four hundred," Ren said through gritted teeth. "Two days' wages should go a long way for someone without any prospects."

Mat threw a hand over his chest, pretending to be wounded. "I'll take eight, because I get the sense that time is of the essence. I am by far your fastest route to finding them. I can tell you're trying to get to them before someone else does. I don't know why, and honestly, I don't care. But if you want to win whatever race you're in—I'm the one that gets you across the finish line first."

Ren disliked being back in this position. Beholden to the Mat Tullys of the world. And yet, he'd pegged the situation rather perfectly. Besides, there was some small pleasure in spending Landwin Brood's money on his potential undoing. She reached into a pocket and carefully stacked the bills up, one by one. She stopped at six hundred instead of eight, though.

"Final offer."

Mat swiped the money so fast that it barely felt like it had been there at all. He nodded once, drained the last of his wine, and said, "Onward."

"Don't you have to pay for the drink?"

Mat winked at her. "Not if we move with haste."

As he slid out of his seat, Ren scowled. The last thing she needed was a waiter pursuing them through the streets. She set a much smaller coin on the table and followed her unlikely escort. Mat was taller than her, and at a glance, looked at least five years older, even though they were the same age. The city had truly worn him down to the bone, though he wore a fashionable scarf to ward off the growing evening chill, and his boots looked finely polished. The only memories she had to compare with this version were from their time in school. Back then he'd been full-cheeked, a bright and foolish kind of creature. This version had come face-to-face with the real world. It did not suit him.

"I think you'll like them," he was saying. "The Tin'Voris."

Ren frowned. "Oh? Why is that?"

"They're like you. Focused."

"You've managed to make that word sound like a curse. Do you see focus as a bad quality?"

"No, of course not. Obviously, you've ended up in a far better spot than I did. Cheers to you for that. It's just notable. I don't know how else to say it. You were that way in class. You're that way now. It's like you have one thing on your mind and nothing else matters. These two, the Tin'Voris, they're the same way. You'll see what I mean when you meet them."

Ren counted that in their favor and tried her best not to be too bothered by Mat's condescension. She was considering a new topic of conversation when he stopped abruptly. They'd crossed a single bridge and stood within shouting distance of the fish house. She could still smell the baking bread. Without ceremony, Mat gestured to a brown-stoned building on their right.

"That's the one. They live on the third floor. Western corner of the building."

"Seriously? Why'd you arrange our meeting so close to where they lived?"

Mat shrugged. "Why not? I thought it would save time."

Ren felt like that broke some protocol of espionage, though she couldn't logically explain why she was annoyed. It felt like something she'd read in old stories. Maybe she was just nervous. This was what she'd come all this way to do. She thought she'd have a long walk to properly steel herself, but now she stood on the precipice of what would either be a colossal waste of time—or an entirely new path forward. That thought had her heart pounding in her chest.

"Well," Ren finally said. "Lead the way."

Mat faltered. "Really? I thought… Don't you want to chat with them privately?"

"Proof of purchase. You can leave after I've seen them with my own eyes."

Mat dramatically adjusted his scarf.

"Oh, fine."

She found herself wishing she'd spent more time with him at school. If they hadn't both been desperately seeking the approval of the chosen ones at Balmerick, maybe they'd have become friends. Or maybe not. As a general rule, Ren didn't like people. She smirked before following Mat into the waiting building.

The interior offered no signs of wealth. The carpets were plain, discolored in places where heavy rains had caused substantial leaks or flooding. The place was almost pure functionality. Long halls that led to a series of separate apartments. Paint-peeling stairs led up to another floor that was an exact replica of the first. The only ornamentation that Ren saw were the knockers on the doors. They were small, made of an iron that verged on the black of night. Each one was a different animal. Hawk, dragon, mongoose…

Ren followed Mat to the third floor. All the way down a narrow, poorly lit hallway. He paused in front of the door that supposedly belonged to the Tin'Voris. Their iron knocker was shaped like a wyvern. Her breath caught at the sight. She knew it was unlikely that they'd chosen this particular room. Far more probable that they'd simply taken whatever was available.

But the wyvern felt like a wink of fate. Incredibly difficult to tame. Incredibly useful to the one who could. She'd witnessed the sheer power of these creatures the year before. Out in that wilderness, when Theo's mating dance had nearly worked. Ren remembered the way Theo's stomach had ripped open, all the blood gushing out. Was that how this encounter would inevitably end? Mat Tully was watching her, waiting on her. She quietly set the memory aside.

Reaching for the handle, she knocked.