10. The Whisperer

Chapter 10

The Whisperer

D estin had been told he was free but not who had spoken for him.

It couldn’t have been Mariel. She would have come for him days ago if she had that kind of sway and power, and her absence meant the Rutlands had forbidden it. He couldn’t blame them really. To an esteemed house like theirs, he was an embarrassment of liquor and mistakes.

The jailer handed him his dagger and the few coins he’d had in his pocket when they’d arrested him. Well, there’d been a half-drunk bottle of whiskey too, but they’d probably confiscated it for their own enjoyment. After a few—painful—dry days, he didn’t much want it back either.

“That’s all you had,” the jailer said, sounding almost sorry, like most men came in with more. But most men had a name, a proper home... something of worth or value to offer themselves and the world.

“Thank you,” he murmured as he accepted his meager possessions.

He stepped out into the sunlight, spreading his arms to absorb the warmth. His joy was short-lived. Two men he recognized but could not name were standing in his path.

“Samuel Law,” said the tall, thin one with the face of an accountant. “This here’s Hamish Strong,” he said of the beefy fellow with a jovial expression.

A Law and a Strong, two of the major houses of the Southerlands—and quite close to the Rutlands. There was no way this could be good.

“Is it the two of you I have to thank?” Destin asked, unwilling to take another step until he understood the situation better.

“Don’t thank us just yet,” Samuel said, exchanging a wary look with Hamish. “Mariel and Erran are both missing, and we think you might be the only one who can help us find them.”

Destin was stunned. “Missing? What do you mean? How?” Erran too? It made no sense. Mariel would never run off with the princeling.

“Come wit’ us,” Hamish said, swinging an arm toward the hitching post, where three horses were tethered.

“Where?” Destin hadn’t moved.

“We’ll tell ye when we see fit, lad,” Hamish retorted, but Samuel lifted a hand, staying him.

“Whitecliffe. Beyond that, you’ll have to trust us.”

Destin snorted. “I don’t even know you. Trust you?”

“I’m certain you can at least acknowledge we have the same aims. We want our friend back. You want your sister back. Aye?”

Destin wobbled his head a bit before nodding. What the hell kind of mess had Mariel gotten herself into? He was supposed to be the troublemaker of the family. “But what makes you think I know where they are?” Mariel could have been with the Perevils, or even Alessia or Magnur, but Erran being missing as well made it highly unlikely.

One thing was sure: the two men pretending to be his newfound friends knew a lot more than they were saying.

“We already questioned her friend Remy Perevil. He wouldn’t tell us much, but he looked concerned enough for us to discern he had nothing useful to contribute,” Samuel said. “Augustine, however, has gone missing from her post at Goldsea Spires, which leads us to believe she is either with Erran and Mariel or had reason to flee.”

They know about Remy? And Auggie? “Why... Who is Remy?—”

“Oy, donnae start with th’ games, son. Sam here saw yer sister visit him, aye? We know ye know him.” Hamish crossed his arms. “I can go back in there, tell the jailer I was wrong about ye.”

Destin glanced back at the jail he’d spent the past four days in. He had no reason to trust these highborns, but he could do nothing for Mariel in a cell. “How long has she been missing?”

“We’ll answer yer questions when ye answer ours,” Hamish said. He clapped Destin’s back in a gesture that seemed affable but sent him skittering forward a few steps with a gulp. “Sorry. Donnae ken me own strength sometimes.”

“Hamish.” Samuel sighed, shaking his head like a disappointed father. “Shall we?”

Their destination was a pub right across the road from Remy’s flat. An intimidation tactic, Destin was sure, but they’d already played their hand where Remy was concerned. Knowing they’d already questioned him took the edge off.

After the barmaid brought their ales around, Samuel said, “Let me assure you Steward Rutland is sparing no expense in the search efforts.”

“For the princeling, I’m sure,” Destin said with a snort. “No one would go to such lengths just for Mariel.”

“The wife of a future steward? You’d be wrong, Destin. But they’re both missing, and my instincts tell me whatever Steward Rutland has going, it won’t be what finds them, because there’s something else going on here, something rotten. Do you agree?”

Destin didn’t know whether to agree. If Mariel was missing, and she wasn’t at Remy’s, and even Remy was concerned, then it was already a bigger problem than he knew how to solve. He pushed his ale away. “One of you can have this. I’m off the drink for a while.”

“A wise decision,” Hamish muttered, both of his furry brows raising.

“I don’t partake myself. Hamish will have no problem managing three mugs, I’m sure.” Samuel folded his hands neatly over the table. “Tell us about Banner.”

Destin screwed his face in confusion. “About what?”

“Not what. Who. Edwin Banner, the broker in Sandycove.”

“I genuinely don’t know who you’re talking about.” Destin sat back. “Never heard the name before.”

Hamish muttered something about lies, but Samuel’s patient gaze was still trained on Destin. “I believe you. I know when a man is a liar, and you’re not a particularly good one, so I’ve heard. Edwin Banner was in charge of an important auction for Steward Rutland, an auction that was supposed to take place the day Erran and Mariel went missing, but was put on hold after Mariel rode to the man’s place of business. He sent his guards after her. Erran followed, and it was the last I saw either of them.”

Destin’s mouth widened into a stunned O. He’d only been locked away for a few hours when she’d ridden to Sandycove. In that time, she’d somehow managed to not only get the name of the man managing the affair but had gone to see him.

And then gone missing.

Samuel glanced at Hamish in a shared look. “So you do know what we’re talking about, just not all of it.”

Destin looked down and nodded. “I may have heard something about the auction.”

“Would it surprise you to hear your sister, as she was giving chase to two of Banner’s guards, declared to everyone present she was the Flame of the Obsidian Sky gang?”

He tried, oh how he tried, to hide his shock. He knew he’d failed because of the looks the men were giving him. “Why... would she do that?”

Hamish rolled his eyes. “I ken ye know good and well why. I ken ye know a whole lot.”

“I managed to return and convince Mr. Banner it would not be in his best interest to go claiming a woman was our Reach’s most famous brigand, the ire of all stewards, but the longer this goes on, the more I fear his restraint will wane.” Samuel sighed. “Remy and Augustine were with her. They rode for Whitecliffe. She rode for the coast. I followed the siblings. Erran followed his wife.”

Mariel, Mariel, Mariel. What have you done? “I don’t know what to say.”

Hamish shook his head. “A cornered man cannae find his tongue for the life o’ him. But we ain’t going to th’ law, lad. Whatever yer sis was up to, Erran is in it now too.”

“We just want to find them. That’s all,” Samuel said. “I realize you have no good reason to trust us, but whatever you tell us, we promise not to repeat.”

“Aye. Swear on our mothers,” Hamish said.

“We’ve already deduced Mariel was going to do something to impede the auction. Halt it, confiscate the gold, sabotage the men attending... We can only guess. We’re already halfway to the truth, Destin. We just need you to provide the rest.”

Destin was in a no-win situation. He could say nothing— should say nothing. If the Rutlands, who had no limit to their resources, hadn’t found them yet, then it grew increasingly unlikely they would. But if he told the truth... He could already imagine the lack of surprise in the knowing glances of his mates, who always said he’d be the one who inadvertently outed them.

But Mariel had boldly outed herself. She had to have her reasons, but she wasn’t there to share them.

“I...” Destin cleared the dry thatch in his throat. “I don’t know where she is. But aye, she’s the Flame. And I’m the Whisperer.”

Hamish scoffed. “Never heard of no Whisperer.” He counted on his fingers. “There’s th’ Tactician, the?—”

Samuel shushed him with an icy look. He gently nodded at Destin to continue.

“Remy and Augustine...” There was no point in finishing. They didn’t care about the others.

Hamish whistled through his teeth. “We jus’ tossed a rock into a wasp’s nest.”

“It is quite the revelation,” Samuel replied, not looking nearly as bowled over as his friend. “And one I’m very curious about, but at present, I am only in need of information that will lead to their whereabouts. So tell us, where would Mariel go if she was in trouble?”

“Ahh...” Destin eyed the row of ales. He’d never wanted a drink more. “Remy’s, but you said she wasn’t there.”

“Where else?”

“My place, but I ken you’ve already checked there.”

“Where else?”

“There isn’t... There’s a spot in the woods where we sometimes meet, but there’s no shelter there. It’s not a place one stays for long.”

“What ’bout th’ other members of Obsidian Sky?” Hamish asked.

Hearing the men speak their name aloud so casually was like a slap to the face. He couldn’t help that Remy and Augustine had been revealed as outlaws, but he wouldn’t add Alessia’s and Magnur’s names to their bank of knowledge. “I don’t know. There is nowhere else. Our family home...” He didn’t finish.

Samuel nodded, processing. “ Think, Destin. Erran followed her somewhere. ”

“I don’t?—”

“Think!” Hamish boomed, rattling the mugs and drawing curious eyes from onlookers.

Destin knit his brows at the man who certainly looked like a brute, but it was clearly all bluster. He was soft on the inside, like Magnur. Didn’t mean Destin wanted to test it though. “You can’t imagine how badly I want to find her, but you both know more than I do.”

“You know more than you realize. You know her better than anyone,” Samuel said.

“But I wasn’t there. I didn’t see her ride...” A wild thought struck him. “Which coast was she riding toward?”

“Devon, if she stayed on the same road.”

Destin blurted a laugh. He looped his hands over his head and looked up at the candelabra hanging above him. Mariel, Mariel, Mariel.

“Nothin’ funny about any of this,” Hamish grumbled.

“Tell us,” Samuel said, unruffled.

“It’s insane,” Destin said. And it was insane. She hardly knew how to captain the damn ship, let alone flee in it. And with Erran? “And a longshot at that. But I ken I might... I might know where she was headed.”