Chapter 34 Dahvid Tin’vori

A son of House Brood met them at the mountain gate.

Dahvid marked him as the youngest. Ren Monroe's bondmate and their supposed confidant. Theo Brood was tall and gaunt, handsome in a way that felt tragic. It reminded Dahvid of the tale about the old dragon, Promethean, who was cursed in the stories to become a wild, ravenous creature for just a single minute of each year. The curse was that he could not know when that minute would come—and no matter how he prepared, the results were always devastating. All the good he'd done, unwound and destroyed in less than a breath. Theo had that look to him. A man who was in perfect control until he wasn't.

There was a girl striding a few steps behind him. She had very short hair and very large eyes. Dahvid nodded to her and could not help looking back a few times as the expressions on her face shifted. Brood walked forward and extended a pale hand in greeting.

"I'm Theo Brood. This is my castellan, Dahl Winters. We've been hard at work preparing the way for you and your soldiers."

Dahvid felt soured as he reached out and accepted the handshake. Agreeing to work with a Brood felt like a trap—or at the very least like a dirty sort of compromise. On that fateful night all those years ago, the Broods had not planned to spare any of them. Ware was taken to their estate by Thugar Brood, where he was killed and buried. The other three children—the youngest of which was just seven years old—were assumed to be on the escape boat with their parents. The one that had been burned out at sea. There were no survivors on that ship. They had not shown any mercy then, and it felt strange to leave Theo alive in this mountain castle. The idea stirred uneasily in his mind, but his father had always taught him to not ruffle any feathers until he had both hands around the chicken's neck. For now, he would play nice.

Introductions were in order. He brought Cath forward, and then the acting generals he'd appointed. They were a merciless lot. A bunch of hardened veterans who'd do anything for the promise of more wealth, and there was nothing quite so tempting as sacking a major Kathorian house. Dahvid only wished he'd been there to oversee the fulfillment of Darling's granting of his wish.

He'd awoken on the warlord's estate. Cath had been asleep on a corner cot. Darling visited him once, to inform him the soldiers were stationed and ready to march, down on one of his private beaches. He informed Dahvid there would be no exchanges, no bartering, nothing at all. He was to march the chosen soldiers out before dawn. It was clear that Darling had carefully held back his favorites and his own captains during the selection process. All the men were from the correct companies, at least, but they weren't the soldiers he might have chosen. It would have to suffice.

Theo turned to lead them back through the gate.

"I'll admit I wasn't expecting you to win," he said. "The gauntlet couldn't have been easy."

Dahvid's eyes flicked between Theo and Dahl. He wasn't sure how much to divulge.

"No. It wasn't easy."

"Ren asked me to brief you. On my brother."

The snow crunched beneath their feet as they passed through a courtyard and into a mostly defunct hall. The floorboards possessed a long-faded beauty. Cobwebs hung in every corner. He couldn't believe they had lived here for the past few months.

"You would provide information on your own family?"

It was more of an accusation than was strictly necessary. Dahvid didn't care.

"I have always felt that my family could change. That we could learn from our history, correct our mistakes, and begin writing an entirely new legacy. I've believed that since I was a little boy. Thugar believes the opposite. He wants to be a symbol of our past—and all of its cruelties." Theo glanced over to Dahvid. His eyes did not flick nervously away. He held Dahvid's glare with great intention. "On our estate, there is a tree. It has red-tipped leaves and a black trunk. The wind, when it blows from the west, does not touch its branches. Our own hired gardeners are not allowed to prune it. Only Thugar tends to that tree. He visits it often, because it is the tree that grew from the grave he dug nearly a decade ago."

I will plant you in the ground.

Those were the words Dahvid had heard Thugar speak. Rage trembled through his hands and his bones, and it was difficult to resist making Theo pay for the sins of his family. They'd heard of the tree, though he'd always dismissed it as folklore. Now he knew it was true—and he knew that the only man who'd visited his brother's spirit was his worst enemy. Day after day. Year after year.

It was a trespass he would not forgive.

"Your brother will answer for what he has done."

Theo nodded. "My brother has two functionary roles on our estate. First, he's there to grant access to people who need to enter the estate from Kathor. Only a Brood can do that. But the rest of the time, he trains. Dueling with some of the best generals and fighters that have ever walked the earth. I do not have any love for my brother, but I am not fool enough to think less of his talent. I promise you one thing: he will not be easy to kill."

Dahvid said nothing. He'd suspected as much and now felt even more naked without his tattoos properly restored. The scarlet traveler was a shadow on his chest. It probably looked like a proper tattoo to the untrained eye, but it would not be battle-ready for weeks. He would be without his most valuable weapon and without the twins, which had a longer restoration time as well. The rest of the arsenal would have to be enough.

"But you won a Ravinian gauntlet," Theo was saying. "Which means you're a good match for him. A good match for any fighter in the world. Come. There's food waiting for your soldiers in the main hall. We've set up all the waxway candles there. I'm pretty sure we bought every stub and wick within fifty miles. It's all arranged. If you'll come to the library with me, I can walk you through a layout of the estate and what I know of Thugar's fighting style."

Dahvid accepted. He continued to tiptoe warily through their conversation. Never answering a question with two words when one would do. He and Nevelyn had discussed this matter before she'd left for Kathor. Ren Monroe was playing her own game. It wasn't hard to imagine what she'd envisioned for herself at the end of all of this. Landwin, Thugar, and Tessa Brood would all die.

The Broods were ancient creatures. Their ancestral line would demand that the reins of House Brood be handed not to Landwin's wife but to his oldest child. Theo Brood would be the last remaining heir. Ren Monroe wanted to burn down the parts of the house she didn't like but planned on keeping a few of the rooms in proper order, so that she could rule what rose from the ashes. That had never been their plan—and could never be their plan. No Brood would be permitted to survive.

"This map is a little old," Theo said as they sat down at a table in the library. They were alone. Almost. Dahvid sensed the castellan watching from the hallway. "You can see where I've made changes to match the most recent renovations. It's important to know there aren't just wards along the outer wall, but some sections of the interior house are also warded. At least one of those castles will need to be secured as soon as you enter.…"

For a time, Theo Brood trotted through everything like a trained hound. He shared insights Dahvid couldn't have learned anywhere else and kept looking up with such great expectation. The boy was hoping for respect. He wanted a fine clap on the back for his betrayal. Dahvid nodded along, making mental notes, but he refused to give Theo Brood the satisfaction of feeling like they were on the same team, fighting for the same cause. Had Theo burned with hatred for the last decade? Did he thrash awake at night, always imagining the smell of smoke in the air? What had he done to earn a seat at the same table as the Tin'Voris?

"Very good," Dahvid said, when they finished. "I would be alone for a time. I'd like to study all of this. I might even sleep for a little, if you don't mind. This chair is more comfortable than any of the beds I've slept in since I was a boy."

It was intended as a subtle blow. The two of them were close in age. While Dahvid had run from town to town, scraping out a survival, Theo Brood had grown up in gilded comfort. On the night his father and brother raided their home, where had he been? Practicing his spells in a family library, safe as the day he was born? Theo simply stood and nodded.

"Of course. I'll see to your soldiers."

Dahvid leaned back in his chair and pretended to close his eyes. The pretense felt so fine, though, that he nearly gave in. He could have slept for a year in that chair. The march had not been kind to a body that was still recovering. His wounds were stitched or healed, but even the best spells in the world could not make a man whole overnight. He would be lucky to feel seventy percent of his proper self by the time they reached the Brood estate.

There was a rustle near the door. He kept his eyes closed, but a smile began to creep over his face. "I heard you a few minutes ago. Your shirt brushed against one of the outcropping stones. You've gotten sloppy."

A knife slammed down into the wood between his thumb and forefinger, narrowly missing the skin. Dahl was there, glowering down at him. The library door was shut. It was just the two of them. He carefully slid his hand away from the wobbling blade and rose to his feet.

"You've gotten taller, Sister."

She smiled at him. "I was just about to say you looked shorter, Brother."

He snaked forward for a hug. It was a surprise when Ava didn't dodge or elbow him away. Instead, she met his hug with her own fierce embrace. He knew it was a sign of how much she'd missed him, how much they'd missed each other. It had been nearly two years since she'd departed from them in Peska. Prepared to carry out her part in their grand scheme. That had been before Ren Monroe. Ava had been positioned this entire time to take care of their needs in Nostra. She was still well positioned. Clearly, Theo Brood had no idea who she actually was.

When they pulled away, they were both grinning.

"I guess I can finally stop visiting your grave."

"Oh? Was that a terrible burden for you?" Ava snarked back. "You must have been through such an ordeal living in a city with restaurants and theaters and warm showers. I will make sure I pray for your swift recovery, dear Brother. At least you weren't, I don't know, stationed in the most godforsaken castle in existence."

Dahvid smiled. He'd missed her more than he realized.

"Well, we have a change in plans."

"No shit. Theo Brood's been setting up waxway travel for the army that's going to try to murder his family. Feels like a slight departure from what we'd discussed."

"It is. And the next part will be too," Dahvid said. "I need you to remain here."

Ava looked mortally offended. "Why?"

In the quiet of that library, he explained everything.