Chapter 6

Adaptability isthe greatest quality on the battlefield.

~ Ranger Captain Targon

Fifteen or twenty minutes passed before anyone came to check on the jail cells. The smoke had cleared, and a horse-drawn wagon had arrived, stopping beside the unmoving body of the beast that had attacked Vlerion. Attacked him and lost.

Kaylina hadn’t seen the barge after its crew released the yekizar, but she guessed it had continued down the canal and out to the harbor.

Two men in gray-and-black Kingdom Guard uniforms ignored the fallen beast and lifted human bodies into the back of the wagon. They used more care than one might expect, given that the dead had been facilitating a jailbreak.

Kaylina”s stomach turned when the guards lifted the headless body. She looked away, reminded of how Vlerion had decapitated the man with no change of expression, no anger, no satisfaction, no glee.

How many had he killed in his life to be completely unaffected like that? The songs and stories about the rangers always told of their heroics in defending the borders, in riding through the wilderness and protecting villages and watchtowers from the human-loathing Kar’ruk and the great mountain beasts that hungered for the flesh of men. She couldn’t remember tales that spoke of rangers putting down rebellions and killing human beings, but she supposed their duties implied they would do that when the Guard wasn’t sufficient to handle uprisings.

“I believe our opportunity to escape has ended,” Frayvar murmured as a taybarri ambled into view on stout blue-furred legs and stopped, blocking the view of the canal. Nobody sat astride its back, but its ranger rider had to be nearby.

“Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind about that after you wouldn’t let me walk out.”

“You wanted to join rebels and find their bases.” He gave her an aggrieved look as he wiped his palms on his trousers.

Nervous, was he? That they’d made the wrong decision?

So was she.

“I would have objected less to sneaking away and creeping back to the castle to gather our belongings, board a ship, and go home.”

“We’re not going home.” No way would Kaylina let one little mishap destroy her dream.

Frayvar winced, a reminder that he’d only come because he’d thought she needed help starting the business. On their first day, he’d gotten far more adventure than he’d wanted, she had no doubt.

“I’m not going home,” she amended.

As much as the money he’d brought would be helpful, she didn’t want him to stay if he didn’t want to. Being alone here would be scary, but she wouldn’t have to worry about him as much if he went home.

Frayvar opened his mouth, but before he could speak, two men walked into view, stopping between the taybarri and the hole in the cell. Vlerion and Targon gazed in at Kaylina and Frayvar.

Dried blood smeared the side of Targon’s head, and a cut had opened his leather armor, revealing a long gash along his ribs. Vlerion, other than someone else’s blood spattered on the back of his hand and soot smearing one cheek, looked little different from when the rangers had questioned Kaylina.

Targon’s words to Vlerion came to mind: Hardly anyone ever touches you in a fight.

“Huh,” Targon said when he picked Kaylina and Frayvar out of the shadows.

When Vlerion met Kaylina”s gaze, he arched his eyebrows. An expression of surprise? Or was he thinking what idiots they’d been not to leave?

Kaylina cleared her throat. “We had some time to think while you were fighting, and I was wondering…” She pointed in the direction of the former Stillguard Inn, though the crumbling castle was blocks away, and intervening trees and buildings hid it from view. “If that place is cursed, the owner might be willing to lease it at a discount. Do you know if he or she would be available for a business meeting?”

Beside her, Frayvar’s mouth gaped open in surprise but only for a moment before he nodded.

The rangers stared at Kaylina for a much longer moment before Targon threw his head back and laughed. It was a short laugh that turned into a wince as he gripped his ribs.

“I admire your audacity, girl,” he said.

“Nobody leases the cursed castle,” Vlerion said without any sign of appreciation for audacity. His eyes were as cold as ever.

“Because the current owners are unwilling to rent it out?” Kaylina asked. “Or because its reputation keeps potential business owners from wanting to invest in it?”

“There’s ancient magic woven into it that makes it dangerous,” Vlerion said. “The catacombs underneath are traversed by criminals, it’s notorious throughout the city, and Lord Darringtar was just murdered on the grounds.”

“So… more of a reputation problem?”

Vlerion looked at Targon. Waiting for his boss to quash the ludicrous idea?

Targon smiled and stroked his chin, his eyes speculative. Kaylina didn’t know if she should like that look or not.

“The Saybrooks are the owners of the castle, aren’t they?” Targon asked Vlerion. “Of everything between the park and the river on that block, if I recall correctly.”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you used to play with the Saybrook girls when you were a boy?”

Vlerion lifted his chin. “I watched over them while their grandfather attended business meetings.”

“You made a tree fort and pretended to be rangers and robbers with them. Wasn’t there a dog too? That you dressed up like a taybarri?”

“They dressed up the dog, and how do you know what I was doing when I was nine?”

Targon grinned. “As you well know, the rangers have always kept an eye on your family. You’ve been of particular interest since you declared your intent to be something besides a farmer or goatherd wandering your ancestral lands.” Their gazes locked, something passing between them again. A secret unspoken. “I believe you were six when that happened.”

“One wouldn’t think grown men would put much stock in the blatherings of children.”

“Not all children.” Targon looked at Kaylina and Frayvar, then tilted his head toward the street.

The rangers withdrew to speak in private.

Frayvar scratched his cheek. “Are they going to help us? I didn’t expect that. I was second-guessing that they would even release us.”

“After you insisted we stay—I noticed.” Kaylina shifted on the bench, tempted to creep over to the wall to eavesdrop. The taybarri had moved, and the rangers hadn’t gone far. “If they’re going to help us, it’s because that captain thinks he can get something out of it.”

She struggled to imagine what. That comment about criminals using catacombs under the castle made her wonder if she and Frayvar might end up being spies for the rangers whether they wanted to or not. Or, if not spies, at least asked to keep their eyes open and report if they saw anything.

“Vlerion hasn’t given his surname to us, has he?” Kaylina asked. “He’s not one of the king’s heirs, right? Why would the rangers have been watching him?”

Though she paid little attention to the politics of the kingdom, she knew the prince and heir was Enrikon, a man of thirty, and he had two younger sisters. If there were illegitimate sons, she hadn’t heard about it, but she didn’t know why else a young noble would be considered important enough to keep an eye on, other than that the aristocrats had a checkered history of raising armies and trying to overthrow monarchs. Maybe the noble families were watched for signs of that.

“He didn’t mention it as he was mashing me to the ground, no. Strangely, I forgot to ask.” After a pause, Frayvar added, “I have read about the Saybrooks in history books. They were one of the founding families of the kingdom and have a lot of land, both agricultural all up and down the coastal valleys, and industrial and commercial in Port Jirador and other major cities.”

“So… they’re incredibly rich?”

“Undoubtedly.”

Kaylina bit her lip, doubting people that wealthy cared that their cursed castle wasn’t bringing in any rent. She might need the rangers’ help to convince the Saybrooks to lease it to her.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Frayvar said, “There are other places we can find to rent, places that aren’t cursed. If that ranger thinks there’s magic there, then there probably is. The Kar’ruk might have lived here once, but this whole land once belonged to the ancient Daygarii druids. They’re the people who enchanted plants and animals before abandoning this realm and returning to the Vale of Origins.”

“Other places would be more expensive though. And less… epic.” Kaylina spread her arms, still able to envision how grand having a castle for their meadery and eating house would be. “People might come just because we’re in such a unique building.”

“People might avoid us because of the building. It could go either way.”

“Hm.” Kaylina stood.

Targon and Vlerion were still speaking, Targon doing most of the talking while Vlerion stood flint-faced, his arms crossed over his chest. From her position, it looked like Targon was the subordinate instead of the superior.

“Where are you going?” Frayvar whispered.

“Nowhere.” They weren’t looking at her, so she stepped out of their view to approach the wall. Using it for cover she turned her head toward the hole, hoping to catch a few words.

“…finished here, I could return to the mountains,” Vlerion said.

“We need you here.”

“Killing humans.”

“Humans plotting to assassinate the king and overthrow the government? Yes, that’s a priority right now.”

“If King Gavatorin passed a few laws to give the Virts the work conditions they want, maybe there wouldn’t be a rebellion brewing. His father would have at least negotiated with them.”

Kaylina raised her eyebrows. She wouldn’t have thought Vlerion would be the more reasonable of the two, or at least more openminded. Maybe she shouldn’t have called him an asshole.

“Ssh, Vlerion. Watch your tongue. I can’t protect you if the king’s agents hear seditious words from your mouth.”

Vlerion grunted. “When did it become sedition to speak about politics and economics? I’m not joining the commoners, simply saying that some concessions might appease them. They’re simple people. They don’t want much.”

She rolled her eyes at the superciliousness. Asshole had been the right word.

“Your family lost its right to have control over such matters when your great-great-grandfather abdicated,” Targon said.

“I’m aware. I...”

Frowning, Kaylina leaned her ear closer to the hole. Had they turned their backs?

A shadow loomed in the opening, and she stumbled backward. Vlerion grabbed her and pulled her outside while skewering the captain with his icy eyes.

“This one is trouble,” Vlerion said. “You’d better forget any plan you have that involves relying on them.”

“We’re not relying on them.” Targon waved an arm, as if indifferent to Kaylina’s spying.

But Vlerion’s grip bit in, and he eyed her sidelong.

“We’re just using something that happens to have been made available to us. We need extra eyes around the city, eyes that aren’t known to Wedgewick, Cougar, and their legions.”

“When did you change from ranger captain to spymaster?”

“In times like these, our duties require us to wear many mantles.” Targon’s tone grew firmer when he said, “Go see Lord Saybrook, Vlerion. Or one of the girls. Don’t they run half the businesses for him now?”

“Ghara does, yes.”

“Is she the pretty one or the prettier one?”

“Does the king pay you to categorize noblewomen like that? Ghara is the one who apprenticed to a bookkeeper and can out-calculate an abacus.”

Frayvar had crept closer when Kaylina had been caught, and his ears perked with interest.

“So the less pretty one,” Targon said dryly.

Vlerion sighed.

“The king pays me to run the rangers, oversee recruit training, and protect the nation. He’s indifferent to how I describe women.”

“He’s indifferent to a lot these days,” Vlerion said.

“Your tongue is flapping too much tonight.”

“It never occurred to you that there’s a reason the crown has preferred I be in the hinterlands?”

“Oh, I’m aware. As the captain, I do have some say in the scheduling, you know.” There was that dryness again.

“Some but not all, right?”

Targon was slow to answer. “I’d deny knowing what you’re talking about, but you’re a hard man to fool, despite your long absences from the city. Go see the bookkeeper girl. Wink at her, and get her to draw up a lease for those two.”

“And the curse?”

“Maybe the ghosts of the druids like mead.” Targon looked at Kaylina for the first time in several minutes—he hadn’t reacted in the least when Vlerion had pulled her out. “You can wander by now and then to make sure they’re not dead.”

If Vlerion was seething inside, it didn’t show on his face, but the tense set of his jaw and his tight grip promised he wanted nothing to do with Kaylina and Frayvar. She didn’t want anything to do with him either.

“Do you two have a place to stay tonight?” Targon asked, waving for Vlerion to release Kaylina.

He did so, but he didn’t step away, instead looming over her. She resisted the urge to move, though she would have preferred not to stay within grab range.

Frayvar shook his head. “We ran into the land agent almost as soon as we got off the ship.”

“We didn’t get to see much of the city,” Kaylina added. “Other than the now well-ventilated jail.”

“Unfortunately,” Targon murmured, glancing at the wagon as it rolled away, the bodies being taken who knew where. “The ranger barracks—”

“Are for rangers,” Vlerion interrupted.

Targon pointed at Kaylina and Frayvar and opened his mouth.

“They can spend the night in the castle they want to lease.” Vlerion gave Kaylina a challenging look.

Heat flushed her cheeks. What? Did he think they couldn’t handle spending the night on a cold stone floor?

“That’s fine,” she said. “Saves us having to pay for a room at an inn.”

“They haven’t leased it yet,” Targon pointed out.

“By morning, they might not want to.” Vlerion continued to hold Kaylina”s gaze.

“Would you mind not meddling with my plan?” Targon asked. “Just drop them off somewhere, and visit the Saybrooks in the morning.”

“Of course, my captain.” Vlerion bowed to him.

“You’re an abysmal subordinate. The king isn’t the only reason you keep getting banished to the mountains.”

It might have been a joke, but Vlerion’s blue eyes grew hooded, his face grim. “I’m aware.”