“No.” He looks intent on leaving it there, then sighs. “When I am forced to speak with him again, I will see if there is anything to find. Now. To more pressing matters. This testing of your blood. They are going to do it just before Placement?”
I let the blunt change of subject go uncommented. “That’s what Emissa said.”
“And you trust her?”
“I don’t think she’s lying.”
The burly young man across from me grunts. Acknowledgement of both statement and prevarication. He still has all the anger I had toward Emissa for what happened, and none of the latent feelings. There won’t be forgiveness there for a long time. Maybe ever. “Tricky. We would need to meet again straight after. Otherwise your ceding will be obvious during your exam.”
I haven’t asked, haven’t even implied that’s what I want from him, though I had been hoping. “You’re willing?”
His look is disdainful. “To help you avoid death for something that is entirely not your fault? Yes.” He waves his hand as if I’ve asked him to pass me a drink, not commit what the Hierarchy would consider fairly close to treason. “I am guessing this will all take place in the Governance compound.”
“I have an idea about how to get you in. But … it may involve you blackmailing a Quintus.”
“May?”
“Not may,” I admit. “But you don’t have to—”
“We are talking about your life.” Calm. Unyielding.
I laugh softly. Shake my head. “I don’t deserve a friend like you.”
“Truth.” Eidhin’s chair creaks as he leans back. “Now. Tell me what has to be done.”
I spend the next few minutes outlining Quintus Elevus’s indiscretions. Not how I know—my spying on Military’s meeting at Suus is too hard to explain, even now—but make it clear that I’m confident in the accuracy of the information. Eidhin absorbs it all in grim silence.
“He has contacts in Governance. His mines in Jatiere provide a lot of the raw materials for Transvect construction; Magnus Quintus Marianus works in infrastructure, so they need to communicate frequently. A Will seal from Marianus should get you into the compound, no questions asked,” I finish quietly.
Eidhin flicks his hand idly through the candle’s flame, which has burned down almost to a nub. “A dangerous business, blackmail,” he observes after a while. “Weigh down a man with his secrets, and there is no telling if he will bend or break. I assume your father is not an option?”
“Even if he had the contacts, I don’t trust him enough. Not for this.” I study him. Heart sinking a little. “I know this is an … unpleasant thing to ask. I meant what I said, earlier. You do not have to do it.”
Eidhin passes his hand through the flame again. “It is unpleasant, but this is the world you and I live in, now. Men must be bought or compelled, rather than relied upon to do the right thing. I will make sure Quintus Elevus does the right thing.” He nods slowly to himself. “This is a small favour, but he will worry we will ask something larger of him later.”
“And he’s right to. But he won’t believe you’re anything more than a messenger—there’s no way you could have found out this information yourself. He’ll watch you, I expect. Hoping to find whoever sent you. But nothing more than that.”
There’s a contemplative hush, and then finally Eidhin stretches. Looks across at me. “You said two favours.”
I frown at him, then puff out my cheeks a little as my memory catches up. “Ah. Yes. It’s … something else to ask of Elevus, I’m afraid.” The Quintus’s interests include several iron mines. Iron that, once it arrives in Caten, flows to a myriad of different ends.
There are other ways to do this. Easier ways. More direct ways. But none that will be as reliably discreet.
Eidhin grunts. “Given what we know, I suspect one more thing will be fine. What is it?”
I roll my left shoulder, watching the limp sleeve of my tunic flap slightly with the motion.
“I need him to lend me a blacksmith,” I say quietly.
XVII
THE EARLY SUMMER SUN IS OUT IN FULL FORCE THISmorning as I hoe lines into the fertile soil, Gráinne trailing after me and sowing millet. Onchú’s a distance ahead: more efficient than me by far, and apparently feeling no ill effects from our carousing the previous night. He laughed as he dragged me, groggy and red-eyed, from sleep.
“Is it this all day?” I pause to lean on my implement, wiping sweat from my brow. My head still thumps and the light still seems too bright.
Gráinne grins at me, then indicates the sweep of the field gently rolling away below us. “All. Day.”
I groan good-naturedly, and resume.
