“He’s the only one of Ipille’s sons worth anything as a human being. I intend to return to Adro and throw back Ipille’s army. According to them” — he jerked his head in the direction of the retreating Kez officers — ”Ipille is personally in Adro. If I can manage to kill him and his two oldest sons, Beon will be king of Kez and he might actually listen to reason and help me end this war.”
“Ah.” Gavril scratched at his beard. “What else did you find out about Adro?”
“Last the Kez cavalry heard, Ipille had burned Budwiel and was slowly but steadily advancing up Surkov’s Alley. Hilanska and the rest of the generals are holding fast with the help of the Wings of Adom. Supposedly, Kresimir himself is there, but he’s not using his powers to aid the Kez army.”
“I thought Kresimir was dead.”
“That’s not what the Kez think. After South Pike collapsed, Privileged Borbador told me that you can’t kill a god.”
“If he’s alive,” Gavril reasoned, “he probably wants whoever shot him in the face.”
“I know,” Tamas said. “We march tomorrow afternoon. I need to get back to Adro and put myself between the Kez army and my son. If Kresimir is alive, I’ll make him wish he had been destroyed at South Pike.”
Adamat stopped with his hand on the door to a decommissioned grain mill in the factory district of Adopest. He looked over his shoulder and tried to tell himself he was no longer at risk of being followed. Lord Vetas was captured, his men taken or scattered, Adamat’s family now safe. He was being paranoid, he reasoned, and pushed the door in.
Or was he? He made his way past a secretary’s desk, long empty and half-rotted, and past the millworkers’ bunk rooms, which smelled like an animal had made a nest in them and then died.
Adamat had successfully blackmailed the Proprietor. Lord Vetas’s master, Lord Claremonte, might have other spies in the city. And there was still the Kez army pushing its way north through Surkov’s Alley.
Would Adamat and his family ever really be safe again?
He went through another door that led to the mill’s main workroom. The room was several hundred feet long with over a dozen millstones placed at intervals along one wall. Most of them were either broken or missing completely, the machinery left to rot when the mill was abandoned. The sound of the river, over which this portion of the mill was suspended, filled the room.
Bo sat with his chair tilted back on two legs, leaning against the wall next to the door. Beside him, Fell held a pipe between her lips and stared at something in the distance. Her shirtsleeves were rolled up, and there were flecks of blood on her arms.
“You missed the morning’s festivities,” Bo said to Adamat.
“You call torturing a man ‘festivities’?” Adamat asked.
“I’m not a good person,” Bo said.
Adamat cast a glance over Bo’s clothes. “You’ve blood on your shoes.”
Bo swore, then licked his thumb and ran it over the top of one of his shoes.
“How is your wife?” Fell asked, taking the pipe from her mouth.
Adamat hesitated. “She has… had a rough time of things.” That was as much of an understatement as Adamat had ever made. Faye had been beaten and abused. She’d cried for two days straight and wouldn’t allow any of the children out of her sight for more than a few minutes. She grew from melancholy to cheerful and back again in seconds, but Adamat wouldn’t expect anything different from someone who’d been through what she had. “She’s strong,” Adamat said. “She’ll be fine.”
Bo let his chair thump down onto four legs and stood up, stretching. “I’m happy to hear that.”
Strangely enough, Bo sounded sincere. Privilegeds weren’t known for their empathy.
“Hit me,” Bo said to Fell.
A smile flickered across Fell’s face. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a cashew, then tossed it in the air. Bo caught it in his mouth.
“I need to get back to Ricard,” Fell said, gathering her bag of cashews and a leather satchel at her feet.
“Go on,” Bo said. “We’ll take it from here. It was good working with you this morning.”
Adamat held up a hand. “A question.”
“Yes?” Fell asked.
“Did either of you see a young woman or a boy after we vacated Vetas’s manor?”
“The girl in the red dress?” Fell asked.
Fell shook her head.
Bo hesitated a moment. “Maybe… no. No, I don’t think I saw them.”
“Pity,” Adamat said. “Faye asked me to look for her. She was another prisoner of Vetas, and the boy may be a royal heir.”
“I’ll put my ear to the ground,” Fell said. She gave them each a nod, her glance lingering on Bo, and then made her exit.
“How was the ‘work’ this morning?” Adamat asked after Fell had left.
