“I needed distance from the nobles.” I reached up and smoothed his hair.
He wrapped an arm around me, lifted the kahve, and took a sip. “How did painting go?”
“Well. Though I suspect I shortened a few lives tonight.”
“They benefit from fear.” He chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
“Penelope created a striking piece—”
A low hum left him, his brows drawing together as ease gave way to thought.
“—She stopped me in the hall and asked about the dragons.” My teeth caught my cheek. “I want scouts sent to Gog.”
“Oh?” His frown eased, the corner of his mouth lifting.
“Tallon needs allies, and Verad was loyal enough to die a martyr.” I kept my voice steady. “What if Penelope is a decoy? Someone meant to convince us Gog is compliant while protecting him, feeding him information. She asked about dragon anatomy, and I felt her searching for a weakness.”
“Do they have one?”
“No.”
He laughed, resting his hand just above my knee. “I already sent scouts to Gog, as well as Glon and the other districts along the Craggs. They’re watching for mass Velli crossings, but they’ll report if Tallon is seen. My instinct says he went north, to Phares. They’d shelter him before any foothill city would.”
“And Bac’phares? What did he say?”
“He denied it, of course.” He shook his head and took another drink. “Tallon’s group won’t stay hidden long. Their numbers are too large to just disappear. Someone’s bound to notice.”
Silence followed. His stare fixed on nothing, jaw muscle ticking.
“What is it?”
“Tallon is an Ichor.” His voice lowered. “But the Velli cannot extend that power beyond themselves.”
My hand lifted to the gash at my neck, the skin tight beneath the bandage. “He moved so fast.”
His focus snapped to me. “Their magic matures in two ways. Some drink blood and steal strength and speed from their victims—Ichors. Others are Cruor. They are rare, but far worse. We’re fortunate Tallon didn’t inherit that.”
“What can they do?”
“Command blood.” His gaze dropped to the desk, pain carving deeper lines at his eyes. “If they take your blood, they can control you. The effect doesn’t last long, though we don’t know the true extent—enough for brothers to turn on their own.”
His expression hardened with nightmares, and I shuddered at what he must have seen on the battlefield—men turning on each other, still aware, watching as he struck them down.
“But Egath is an Ichor,” he continued. “Some never fully inherit power. They’re little more than magicians playing tricks.”
“Why does that trouble you?” I asked. I couldn’t fault him for trying to place Tallon’s lineage, but I wouldn’t think he’d find it so concerning.
“The assassination attempt.” His fingers tapped against the mug. “Tallon and Egath were the only Velli this side of the Craggs. I thought Tallon used the Cruor gift to control the men who attacked you. But if he’s only an Ichor, then we know his limits.”
“Can bloodlines cross?” I asked. “What if Egath carried something latent?”
“I considered it.” He exhaled. “He went into lockdown immediately afterward, being my first suspect. I’m combingrecords, looking for contact between them before the attack, but so far, nothing has surfaced.”
My lip caught between my teeth, considering. “Can they carry both?”
“I’ve never seen it. Never heard it admitted—and we were very thorough with our interrogations.” His eyes lit with a dangerous gleam, the hardened warrior breaking through. “Though, if it were possible, they’d bury the truth. They already guard their magic like a secret weapon. I hoped Egath would reveal more, but it just goes to show we can’t trust them.”
I turned, eyeing the stacks littering his desk. “Where are these records?”
