Chapter 16

Lily had shouted herself hoarse. Her throat burned, but still she wouldn't give up.

"Hey!" she yelled. "Where is Oskar? What have you done with him? Hey!"

She got the same response that she'd gotten all day. Silence. The cellar door remained stubbornly closed.

"Save yer strength, lass," Magnus rumbled. "They will bring him back only when they are good and ready."

She sagged against her chains. "But he's been gone for hours. What do they want with him?"

"Information, most likely," Magnus replied. "Information about the Order of the Osprey, just like they tried to get out of Emeric and me. Dinna worry, lass. He willnae tell them anything."

And when he doesn't?Lily thought in horror. Will he be dragged back in here like you? Beaten and barely conscious? The thought sent terror skittering through her.

But the hours passed and they didn't bring him back. Food was brought and the platters taken away again, but the sour-faced guards wouldn't answer any of the desperate questions Lily fired at them. She heard footsteps moving on the boards above, along with the opening and closing of doors and the low hum of voices, but they were too distant to make out words.

Finally, she heard the click of the lock and the door swung open, admitting one of the guards. She scrambled to her feet.

"Where is he?" she demanded, her voice hoarse from shouting. "What have you done with Oskar?"

The guard just looked at her, expressionless. He was a tall man, with dark hair that fell in greasy strands over his forehead. His eyes were cold and hard, as if he had seen too much in his life to be affected by the plight of one desperate woman.

"Ye are to come with me," he said dispassionately.

Lily swallowed. "Go with you where?"

The guard shrugged. "Someone wants to see ye."

Magnus stirred. His chains weren't long enough for him to stand, but he strained as far forward as he could get.

"Leave her out of this," he snarled. "She has naught to do with the Order of the Osprey."

"Maybe not," said the guard. "But she has everything to do with Oskar Galbraith." He smirked and looked Lily up and down appraisingly. She didn't like the hungry gleam in his eyes. "And I canna say I blame him, either."

Magnus growled deep in his throat. "Touch her and I'll kill ye."

"Oh, ye will? And how will ye do that, exactly? Use some of yer accursed Seelie magic to turn the chains to dust? No, I thought not. So keep yer mouth shut."

"Hurry up will ye, Rob?" came a shout from the top of the stairs. "Ye were sent to fetch the prisoner, not have a debate!"

Rob scowled. "Hold out yer hands so I can take off yer manacles," he said to Lily. "And dinna even think about doing anything stupid."

Lily meekly complied, then preceded him through the door, casting a look back at Magnus and Emeric as she went.

Once upstairs, the guard thrust Lily into a dimly lit hallway. She could hear whispers and voices echoing from down the corridor, and the acrid smell of smoke hung in the air.

The guard shoved her forward, and she stumbled against the wall. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Oh, dinna be in such a rush," the guard smirked, grabbing her arm and pulling her along. "Ye'll see soon enough."

The guard turned a corner, went through a door, and they emerged into a large, lavishly furnished chamber illuminated by flickering candles. The air was thick with the scent of pipe smoke and people were scattered around the room, some seated in chairs, others pacing restlessly.

A man standing in the center of the room turned to her. It was Eberwyn. Anger burned through her and she lunged at him, brought up short by the guard's grip on her arm.

"What have you done with him?" she demanded. "What have you done with Oskar?"

Eberwyn just laughed. "I'm afraid yer questions will have to wait. First, ye have a job to do."

He gestured for her to come closer and the guard dragged her towards the fireplace where she saw a chair pulled up. Alfred Brewer was sitting in that chair, his leg stretched out before him, looking pale and sweaty. Another woman, one Lily hadn't met before, was kneeling in front of him, unwinding a bloody bandage from around his leg.

"Alice," Eberwyn said. "I've brought the healer."

The woman's furious gaze snapped to Lily and it was all she could do not to take a step back. So this was Alfred's wife, the one who had orchestrated his rescue and who the Order of the Osprey had been after for months. She was thin-looking with wild, curly brown hair and dour features, but her eyes flashed with a sharp intelligence and even sharper fury.

"I can do it!" she snapped at Eberwyn. "Do ye think I canna even take care of my own husband?"

Eberwyn held his hands up in a placating gesture. "I wouldnae dare suggest such a thing, but Lily is a healer and has helped Alfred before. "

"Let her through, woman," Alfred barked at his wife. "Ye have all the bedside manner of an abattoir butcher." His face was white with pain.

Alice opened her mouth for an angry retort, but snapped her mouth shut as she looked at her husband's pained face. She turned her gaze on Lily.

"Treat my husband. He needs to be able to walk. But I'll be watching ye closely."

Lily's gaze flicked from Alice to Eberwyn to Alfred, then back again. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"No."

"No?" Eberwyn said incredulously. "I dinna think ye are in any position to refuse."

Lily glared at him. She was done with being pushed around by these people. "And you're in no position to make demands. Give me one reason why I should help you or him."

"Because if ye dinna, I will kill ye here and now!" Alice snapped, her hand going to the hilt of the knife strapped to her hip.

"If you were going to do that you would have done it by now. The same with Magnus and Emeric. You need us all alive, don't you? Why?"

Eberwyn chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving Lily's face. "All right," he said finally, his voice surprisingly calm. "How about a bargain instead? Alfred's leg must be treated, and soon, or else the need for a healer will become moot. Fix his leg like ye did at my manor so that he can walk and I will tell ye where Oskar is."

Lily's stomach clenched. "Is he all right? If you've hurt him—"

"I willnae tell ye anything until ye agree. Do we have a deal?"

Lily knew she couldn't trust any of them, but the need to know what they'd done with Oskar burned like a hot coal in the pit of her stomach.

"All right," she breathed. "I'll do what I can."

Lily gently untied the knot of the makeshift bandage and eased it down Alfred's leg, wincing at the sight of the gruesome injury beneath. Although the fracture was clean, the swelling and discoloration indicated that it had deteriorated since she'd last seen it. Alfred had clearly not been following her advice in taking care of the injury, and she suspected he might eventually lose his leg. Still, she would do what she could.

She ran her hands over the leg, probing with her fingertips as gently as she could. Even so, Alfred gasped and went rigid with pain.

"The bones have moved," Lily said. "You've been putting too much pressure on it and haven't kept it splinted properly. They are no longer aligned and need to be reset again." She looked up at Alice and Eberwyn. "Hold him down. This is going to hurt."

Alice and Eberwyn exchanged a fierce look, but Alice nodded reluctantly. They took their positions, Alice grabbing Alfred's loose arm and Eberwyn his good leg, pinning him down.

Lily steadied herself, her hands shaking slightly as she prepared to reset the fracture. She took a steadying breath and summoned all her strength.

She grabbed Alfred's leg and started to manipulate it, twisting and pulling until she heard the satisfying snap of the bones realigning.

Alfred roared in pain, his face contorted in agony as his leg shifted back into place. Alice and Eberwyn held on tight, bracing themselves as Lily finished the gruesome task.

Lily paused for a moment, her breath coming in short gasps, and then she gently straightened Alfred's leg and wrapped it in fresh bandages.

"Do you have anything for swelling and pain?" she asked Alice. "Because he's going to need both."

Alice nodded to a small pottery bottle sitting on the table. "Tincture from the opium poppy."

Lily winced. Opium? That was highly addictive. "All right. If there's nothing else, then give him no more than a few drops at a time. Enough to take the edge off the pain and let him sleep."

Alice nodded, a little of the fury abating from her gaze to be replaced by something like grudging respect. Lily didn't care. She had no interest in these people's respect. All she wanted was to know where Oskar was.

She wiped her hands on a rag and then tossed it onto the table before turning to Eberwyn.

"I've kept up my part of the bargain, now you need to keep yours. Where is Oskar? What have you done to him?" She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, but wasn't sure she succeeded.

Eberwyn smirked, his eyes gleaming in the firelight. "First, let me explain something to ye, Lily. We are not the villains here. We are fighting for a cause much greater than ourselves."

"Oh, really? So you're some sort of hero, is that right?" Lily retorted. "In my experience, the good guys don't go around kidnapping people!"

"Ye will discover the truth soon enough. But let me reassure ye, we have no intention of harming Oskar. He's important to our plan. In fact, he's proving invaluable."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? Oskar would never help you."

"Oh? Are ye sure about that? Perhaps ye dinna know him as well as ye think ye do. Right now, he's out doing our work. He is going to be the key to our victory."

"You're lying," Lily said although a sick feeling was uncurling in her stomach.

"Ye know I'm not. Oskar has remembered where his true loyalties lie. I'm afraid he's betrayed ye, Lily, and betrayed the Order of the Osprey." He grinned suddenly, a smile full of cruelty and glee.

"Oskar works for us now."

EVERYTHING LOOKED NORMAL. As Oskar stalked through the winter-wrapped streets of the city, life went on as it always did, as though nothing had changed. As though Oskar's life hadn't suddenly imploded.

How could that be? How could the world continue moving when everything he'd built his life on had collapsed beneath his feet?

He wanted to bellow at the hawkers who badgered him as he marched past them. He wanted to yell at the goodwives gossiping on their front steps. He wanted to rage at the children running around playing their games of tag.

How could they be so oblivious? How could they be so caught up in the petty, unimportant details of their day-to-day lives when everything he knew had crumbled?

Oskar stopped in the middle of the street, his heart thumping. The only thing that gave him a sense of control was the job he had been given. That was where he found a sliver of purpose. And yet, it only served to highlight everything he had lost.

"Lily," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

He slowed his pace, trying to appear casual as he passed into the lower part of the city and fingered the large purse that Eberwyn had given him. It was dangerous to carry such riches in this part of town, but that was all part of the plan. Already, he could feel eyes on him, hear soft footsteps following.

He turned into a narrow lane. The air grew heavier as he progressed, the stench of damp stone and stale sweat filling his nostrils. A scratching sound echoed from somewhere above, as if rats or birds had taken up residence in the buildings to each side. At the end of the lane, he reached a courtyard.

The space was overgrown with dead weeds and skeletal bushes, the buildings surrounding it crumbling and decrepit. The air stank of decay. He stopped, listening to the footsteps coming up behind him.

"Ye've got a nerve coming back here," said a voice. "Either that or a death-wish."

He turned to see four men spread out behind him, blocking his escape. He recognized them as Bryn Fletcher's men. Each of them carried weapons: a knife, a cudgel, a rusty sword.

Oskar spread his hands. "I'm not here for trouble."

"Not here for trouble?" one of them said. "Well, too bad, because trouble's found ye."

Oskar took Eberwyn's purse from his belt and held it up so they could see it. The men's eyes tracked it, lighting with interest. "I've come to offer ye a deal," he said. "And a big pay day."

"Is that so? How about this for a deal: we kill ye right now and take that bag of coins in payment for the trouble ye've caused us since ye came back to Edinburgh."

Oskar shrugged nonchalantly. "Aye, ye could do that, but I dinna think Byrn would be very pleased with ye."

"Oh, I think he'd be mighty pleased to hear that ye are dead, Galbraith. He hates ye more than we do."

"He might hate me, but he isnae a fool and he loves gold more than he hates me. He wouldnae be pleased to hear ye've turned down the riches I can give ye."

A look of uncertainty passed across their faces, and they all glanced at each other.

"What do ye want, Galbraith?"

"To speak to Bryn. That's all. I give ye my word on that."

"Yer word?" one of them said incredulously. "As if that means aught to us."

"All right, dinna take my word. Take this instead." He tossed the purse over and it landed at the men's feet with a clink. One of them stooped to pick it up and then examined the contents.

"What's yer game, Galbraith?" he said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Like I told ye, I need to speak to Bryn. That's to show I'm acting in good faith. There's much more than that if ye agree to what I propose."

He could see he had their interest now. Money had a way of overcoming even the most staunchly-held hatreds. He pressed his advantage.

"Take me to Bryn. Hear what I have to say and if ye dinna like it, ye can just as easily kill me then, canna ye?"

The leader looked at the others and then nodded. "All right. Throw yer weapons over here."

Oskar did as he was instructed. They picked up the weapons, pocketed the purse, then led him down the narrow street.

The buildings loomed over them like rotting teeth, their timber-and-wattle walls cracked and pockmarked with age. The air was heavy with the scent of the river, which flowed nearby but out of sight. Occasionally, they encountered other inhabitants of the slums—ragged, hungry-looking people who eyed them warily before scurrying away, uncertain of their intentions.

Finally, they reached their destination—a crumbling tower house that loomed over the rest of the slums like a dark sentinel. The door was heavy and creaked as they opened it and emerged into a dimly lit room where they found Bryn Fletcher sitting at a rickety wooden table.

"So, it's true!" Bryn said, a bitter edge to his voice. "Ye really are stupid enough to show yer face around here. Perhaps ye'll think differently when I carve it off for ye!"

Oskar ignored Bryn's threat. "I need yer help, Bryn," he said, his voice low. "And I've come to offer ye a job."

Bryn snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "What could ye possibly offer that would make me help ye?"

Bryn Fletcher's lackey tossed the purse onto the table where it landed with a dull thud. Bryn took it and inspected the contents. His expression revealed nothing of what he was thinking.

"We've had our differences," Oskar said. "But ye are still a business man above all else. There is three times that amount waiting for ye at the end of this job."

Bryn's gaze flicked up to meet Oskar's. The man's eye was still black and swollen from their previous fight. Hatred burned in Bryn's stare, but something else as well, something more powerful. Greed.

He leaned back in his chair. "I'm listening. What kind of job?"

Oskar took a deep breath. If he did this, if he took this final step, there would be no going back. He would be a turncoat. A traitor. His life would have gone full circle, right back to the cess pit in which it started.

The road ye enter may lead to darkness or greatness. Choose wisely.

This cannot have been what Irene meant. It cannot have been what she'd planned for him. But Oskar's plans always went awry. The darkness sucked him in no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

He thought of Lily. He thought of Magnus and Emeric.

Fate and destiny could go to hell as far as he was concerned. Irene MacAskill might like to blather on about choices, but there was no choice. Not for him. He could not risk Lily's or his sword-brothers' lives any more than he could voluntarily tell his heart to stop beating.

He fixed Bryn with a stare. "Two things. First, I need to visit my guild house. Then we are going to break someone out of prison."