Threat Read online

  “Yes, yes. Your party line.” Haletifah shook his head with a small smirk. “I see you’re being a little moody today. Would a cup of Southern Kingdom tea cheer you up? I have sugar.”

  Erugh. “No, thank you. Haletifah, I need some information and I’m hoping with your influence and contacts here, that you’ll help.”

  The widening smile sent a shiver down Raneth’s spine as Haletifah settled into the armchair that matched the sofa. He gestured towards the sofa where Thane sat and where a seat remained available. “Have a seat, Raneth, and tell me what you need.”

  He knows I won’t sit next to Thane, or is he more of an idiot than I realised? Raneth shook his head. “I prefer to stand, thank you. I don’t want to take up your time for too long.” He gestured at Thane. “Especially as I’m sure the two of you have business you need to discuss that’s better for a royal official not to know about.”

  “Lords’ Law Act, Bayre Heir. It wouldn’t matter if you were here or not,” stated Haletifah. “But be that way. Gives you a professional excuse not to stop us, I suppose.”

  Raneth glanced at Thane. “You have nothing to fear from me, Raneth,” said the Master Frey. “At least not whilst we are in Rovert’s home. I don’t care to pay for the mess we’ll make.” He nodded to Raneth’s side. “You’re favouring your left a little. Hurt?”

  Grateful that he knew Thane had a rule against lying to Bayres, Raneth focused his attention onto Lord Haletifah, ignoring Thane’s question. “The king was kidnapped. I need to know if the people responsible have been to see you and if you saw Cray alive. I need to get him back.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want a seat?” Haletifah gestured again to the sofa.

  He’s delaying answering me. Raneth shook his head. “I’d never sit beside a Frey, Haletifah. You should know that.”

  Haletifah shrugged. “Ah well. Worth asking again just in case,” he fumbled. He ran a hand over his slicked back black hair, his grey eyes twitching side to side.

  He does know something. He only moves his eyes that fast when he’s panicking about hiding something or how to lie. Raneth took a step closer to the lord and smiled. “What are you hiding?”

  “Hiding? Nothing.”

  “If you know something, not telling me is treason, Haletifah. Especially if Cray is harmed. All he needs is a papercut for it to apply.”

  “Wait, wait. What about Lords’ Law Act?” asked Haletifah. The self-assured confidence he’d had just moments ago was gone — his voice was an octave higher and the whites of his eyes were more visible than if he were calm. Haletifah was definitely beginning to panic.

  Thane chuckled. He was leaning back against the sofa, the saucer for his cup of tea balanced on his crossed knees, the small black and gold cup held delicately in a hand that dwarfed it. “What Raneth says about the king means Lords’ Law Act has actually been affected by the Apocolletio Laws, Haletifah. It covers terrorism and all threats to kingdom stability. Threats to the stability of Giften trumps any real or perceived threat to the profitable running of a lord’s estate. In layman’s terms, technically, Lords’ Law Act is cancelled out by Cray’s kidnapping...” He smiled and gestured at Raneth. “Besides, my favourite Giften is a lord too, at least a future lord. You know the rules about Lords’ Law Act when it gets in the way of two opposing lords. A dual of swords or a tourney. I’d love to watch if you plan on clinging desperately to the Act.”

  Raneth glared at Thane. You know he’s the tourney champion in the Lords Tournament for the past three years. There’s no way you don’t know. An old practise, the Lords Tournament still existed for two things: avoiding duals to the death by going by the tournament’s yearly rankings instead of engaging in a dual, and for creating a hierarchy within Giften’s twelve families that were still considered lords. At one time, every family with a blood-gift were of the status but criminal acts and the abuse of their family’s blood-gifts had slowly dwindled them down. Now the lords were craftier when breaking the law, using fall guys or the protective but outdated nature of Lords’ Law Act to their advantage. “I’ll take swords if we must dual,” stated Raneth. “Although fighting a royal official to the death might not go well for you.”

  He watched Haletifah’s face carefully and spotted as the very tips of his lips drew back in the smallest of grimaces. Lord Haletifah held a palm towards Raneth, gesturing for Raneth to slow down. “No, no. That won’t be necessary. I have no wish to die in a dual or for treason. I’ll tell you what you need to know. He’s alive. The king’s alive.”

  “And? I need more than that.”

  “He needs a way to track the kidnappers, Rovert. Tell Raneth everything he needs to know. Everything. It’s the only way you’ll get out of being hung alive for treason. Besides, Rovert, you know Raneth’s family married into King Cray’s two hundred or so years ago, give or take. If he doesn’t find and rescue Cray, the Bayre-Frey Feud is affected, which means my family’s way of life will be affected.” Thane paused, looking firmly at Haletifah. “If Cray isn’t returned to the throne and something happens to Louise and Lady Lemuela down the line that forces the Bayres to acknowledge their royal blood, I’ll bear my family’s full wrath onto you because we’ll need a new family to live our lives around.”

  It was odd getting help from the Master Frey, the member of the Frey family responsible for the deaths of Raneth’s mother, grandmother and grandfather. Whether Thane likes it or not, the Feud’s on pause. I’m safe from him for now.

  Haletifah pinched at the bridge of his nose before he held his forehead in a hand, his arm rested against that of his seat. “I don’t know where they went. I gave them full access to my contacts here in the city with a passphrase.”

  A passphrase? Raneth looked expectantly at Haletifah.

  “The passphrase will get them the help they need from my contacts — it’s the fastest way to get them out of my city. I didn’t want any affiliation with them.”

  “What’s this passphrase and how long’s it valid?” asked Raneth.

  “Hettle and Kettle. Like the play.” Haletifah lifted his head, noticing Raneth’s attention. “Cray was tied up, Bayre Heir. The phrase is good until tomorrow night. That’s all I’ve got for you.”

  You mean all you’re willing to admit to. Raneth narrowed his eyes at the lord and waited, but Haletifah didn’t react further except to wipe at the corners of his eyes, as if getting rid of sleeping crust. Something’s better than nothing. Raneth gave a clipped nod. “Alright. Thank you, Lord Haletifah.” He dipped his head at Thane. “Thane.” He eased back out of the room, finding Oliver waiting for him. “I’m leaving now,” he said.

  Oliver nodded. “This way then, sir.”

  When they had walked halfway across the sandy pathway towards the gate, Raneth flinched as the door was yanked open behind them. “Wait!” Looking over his shoulder, he watched as Thane jogged towards them. Raneth turned and rested a hand against the grip of his sword as his right hand showed his palm to Thane in a less obvious manner, keeping close to his right side. Thane drew short just out of Raneth’s arm’s length. “I’d like to offer my services.”

  The royal official observed his surroundings. The garden was cloaked in the night’s grip, but gas lamps were tucked at intervals around it, swamping it in hissing balls of light that were distorted by the trees and shrubbery. He couldn’t see any Frey Followers looking back at him, or any shapes that looked more human or human-made over natural, but he couldn’t be sure. The way the gaslights were positioned in Haletifah’s grounds was designed to give night-time intruders a sense of foreboding. Thankfully for royal officials, they learned to cope with pure and partial darkness, thanks to the lack of gaslights between settlements. Still, the possibility of Frey Followers was enough to make the Bayre wary. He rubbed at one of the wounds with the heel of his hand as he ran another sweep over the garden, trying to see the Followers.

  “If you’re looking for Drigoe and the others, they’re not allowed on the Haletifah Estate. A p
revious misunderstanding saw them and his servants attack one another. Once, but his house, his rules.” Thane smiled.

  Up close, the Master Frey looked notably older than Raneth had realised before. The wrinkles at the elder man’s eyes and lips were getting deeper, and his eyelids were beginning to droop over his eyes. Raneth’s focus slipped to Thane’s hands and he caught sight of brown speckles, the ones that accompanied growing older with pale Giften skin. He’s in his fifties or sixties. I suppose that’s possible. I know Bayres tend to die young but Frey…

  “What? It was a misunderstanding.” Thane folded his arms and frowned at Raneth. “I swear it on my family’s history.”

  “I’d never get into bed with a Frey,” stated Raneth, before taking a few steps backwards, towards the gate. Oliver stood passively two metres away from both he and Thane, a clear signal that whatever was about to happen, Oliver intended to have no part in it.

  “Hear me out, Raneth.” Thane’s smooth voice slid through the air with ease, tickling at Raneth’s ears. “Suck down that Bayre pride for two seconds. You’ll like it. It’ll speed up finding Cray.”

  I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to listen. The royal official paused. “Go on then.”

  “Getting quite ballsy in your older age, aren’t you?” smirked Thane. “That girlfriend of yours must have something to do with—”

  “She’s not my girlfriend. The Dagger Bearer and I are just friends.”

  Thane shrugged. “Perhaps for now.” He waved away the retort on Raneth’s tongue. “Look, I understand you don’t approve of the Lords’ Law Act, and it must be infuriating that every time you come to Tricolq City, you constantly bash up against it here where Haletifah is — if you’ll excuse the pun — always lording it over the city. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t accept help from somebody with a larger pool of contacts kingdom-wide. My criminal empire makes Haletifah’s look puny. You know us Frey are responsible for a good chunk of the crime in Giften.”

  Twelve percent and rising, not that I can do anything about it, thanks to Lords’ Law Act. “Hmm.” Raneth scratched at his wounded side but grimaced as the pain tripled. Need to take more painkillers soon. Warily, he looked at Thane and spotted that the Master Frey was looking at his side with a small frown.

  “So you are injured,” surmised Thane. “Who dared to take a Frey’s privilege?”

  You sound almost angry, noted Raneth. “The same people who kidnapped Cray.” Let’s see how his family’s obsession with us Bayres can help then. “What were you proposing to ‘help’ me?”

  Thane repositioned the two swords at his waist, not that he needed them when he wielded the Common Gift of Fire. “My Followers and I can help you search the city. Haletifah proved, if nothing else, that the people that hurt you and took Cray are here.”

  That’s true.

  “And you know my people can canvas a city well enough. After all, how many times have we found you?”

  Found me, knocked me off rooftops, stabbed me, thrown me through a window… Too many times for my liking. Raneth shrugged. It could speed things up a bit, and the sooner I get Cray back to the palace, the sooner I can be on medical leave and under Quinn’s care. The royal official tilted his head slightly, narrowing his left eye. “And normal… relations between us? You trying to murder me, me running from you all the time?”

  Thane smiled. “Now, now, Raneth, don’t exaggerate. Such a bad trait for a Bayre. I only ever truly try to kill your father. You’re just sport for the moment. I only use you as bait for you father and occasionally hunt, torture and terrorise you.”

  “So you know my patterns and can kill me easier when I have my heir.”

  “Exactly.” Thane nodded.

  “That’s no better, Thane,” said Raneth.

  “Raneth, you know both our families would be lost without the Feud.”

  “Me, Dad and our future descendants would be incredible if the Frey would just leave us Bayres alone.”

  “I doubt it,” said Thane. He strolled towards the gates, his hands clasped behind his back. Raneth stayed where he was. “Your bloodline seems too honourable to go beyond my family’s expectations. After all, look at your job. King’s lapdog.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Anyway, we’re getting off topic.” Thane looked at Raneth over his shoulder.

  I should just stab him. “Oh?” asked Raneth. What I wouldn’t give for Dad to turn up right now and smack you around with his dragon paws.

  Thane turned to better face Raneth, the blade of his preferred sword exposed by an inch from the lip of its sheath, ready for a quickdraw. His other hand, like Raneth’s had been moments before, had the palm out facing towards Raneth from a low angle, designed to make it look almost like a harmless gesture. Almost. “Do you want my help or not?” asked Thane.

  Chapter Six

  Aldora

  She found the scream’s source as Jules Rivermud fled. Aldora stopped running and looked towards Jenny Moolie. A hexagonal shard of red light hung in the air near her, but her body was suspended from the ground. Her torso was encased within a shiny liquid-like substance that had a slightly yellow sheen to it. Help Jenny. Nevermind Rivermud. Aldora sprinted to her friend and pressed a hand to the semi-transparent substance that held her against a front window.

  “Aldora, help me.” Jenny could barely move her head to look down at her friend; her neck was arched to look skywards and away from the substance sticking to her. Aldora drew her hand back but the gunk clung to her hand like glue, leaving a strand between her hand and where she had touched. Aldora shook it and the tendril snapped. It wrapped around her hand and arm.

  “Great.” Aldora huffed in a breath then looked up at Jenny, giving her brown-haired and big-busted friend a smile. “Don’t worry, Jenny. I’ll have you out of this in a jiffy.”

  “What is this stuff? Why did that man do that? Why can’t I move? All I did was say good morning!”

  “He was running,” said Aldora. “Were you in his way?”

  “Yes. When he was running. Not when he was shooting this stuff out of his hands! What is it?”

  Aldora inspected the gunk wrapped around her hand and forearm. “I’m not sure.” She rubbed her hand along the edge of a bin, watching as the substance stuck to the metal and created a tendril between her hand and the bin. “It’s gross, whatever it is.”

  The huffing of breath and the heavy stamp of feet warned Haethowine had reached them. Aldora turned to face him. “He attacked Jenny.”

  “With his blood-gift?” Haethowine frowned at Jenny. “Don’t worry. We’ll have you down—”

  “Aldora already said that.” Jenny sniffed. “But if you could hurry up, that would be nice. I’m late to work.”

  She looks cold too. Aldora eyed Jenny’s reddening nose and cheeks, before she glanced at Jake as he drew closer, looking none the worse for the unexpected sprint. He dumped his bag on the ground and picked up a thin tree branch blown from a front garden three doors down.

  “Here,” he said, striding over to Jenny and stabbing the blood-gift substance with the end. He drew it back and started to weave the strand onto the stick. “We just have to wrap it around something other than Jenny. Don’t worry, sexy. I’ll save you.”

  “Good.” Jenny’s hexagonal Shard of Light dissipated with a soft curl of smoke.

  Aldora watched Jake work, then looked around for another stick. That’s not watery. The report was wrong. Finding another stick, she went to jab it into the slime but Haethowine caught her wrist.

  “Let Jake do that,” he said. “You’re too…”

  Too what? Aldora glared up at the village leader. Go on, say it.

  “Too invested in this, Aldora. You’re too caught up in it. I love that you want to help, that you want to be the best Dagger Bearer—”

  I’ve never said that. I just don’t want to screw up.

  “But you’re putting yourself and others in danger when you don’t need to.”

  “He would
have done that to somebody at some point anyway,” insisted Aldora. She yanked her wrist free and handed the stick to Jake. “I can help. You all trusted me well enough to go running—”

  “The king did. We didn’t.”

  Wait, what? “But you sent me running to the palace. You must have trusted me.”

  Haethowine rested a hand to Aldora’s back and eased her away from Jake and Jenny. “I trusted you to run faster than the attackers. Now, don’t get me wrong, Aldora. We all love you and couldn’t be more proud of your achievement, nor more grateful for your saving us.”

  “Raneth helped. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without him.”

  “It’s his fault it happened,” stated Haethowine.

  Aldora shook her head. “No way. How does that even work?” She glanced at Jenny as she yelped. The remaining blood-gift substance was giving to her weight.

  “I got you. I got you.” Jake grabbed her as the gunk gave way, dropping her into Jake’s waiting arms. The two of them started laughing.

  Aldora returned her attention onto Haethowine. “It wasn’t Raneth’s fault Ulger Denman played a part.”

  “It’s exactly that reason why he’s at fault.” Haethowine rested a hand to Aldora’s shoulder and started pushing her towards her home. “You’re too close to this. Too close to the royal official. If Raneth’s criminal had never escaped his gaze, if he had caught him in Icoque Village before he had a chance to come here, he never would have gotten involved with the Battleaxe Woman.”

  Aldora’s stomach curled as she thought of the day she and Raneth had reached the village. Burning and too quiet, the village had suffered, but the worst moment had been when she and Raneth encouraged the attackers to chase them, unintentionally letting the hostile men and women run them into a dead-end. The Dagger had started to cooperate with her then, scorching most of the attackers that surrounded them, but it had been months later when Aldora found out that the woman with a black battleaxe tattoo — the leader of the attack — had escaped the village entirely. “He can’t be perfect. Nobody’s perfect. Raneth caught him in the end.”