Bile still soured the back of my throat.
I told myself the red hair was a coincidence. Yet the resemblance was too close to dismiss. Enough rumours hadalready spread about Reagan’s human emissary, the one seen far too often at his side throughout the Aurora Rite. Perhaps word that I was a hybrid-born and training for Ladyship had already gotten out too.
If Madden knew about me, which he did, then other members of the Order could know too. That would make it a more personal threat.
Clodagh Foley had been hybrid-born and likely murdered for it. Her family had wailed when they saw her. Hildegard had already removed the stitched ears, scrubbed the blood from her skin, and dressed her in clean linen. Even so, her mother collapsed beside the gurney.
Joy shook at my side at the mother’s cry, and I guided her out from the infirmary.
“Flinging will be a border problem, given the free passage,” Barracus said sternly, hands clasped on the table, a single finger tapping as he regarded Reagan.
Reagan didn’t react. His gaze remained fixed on the centre of the table, hair recently washed from the bath that cleaned out the blood.
“You have precedent to limit passage, but I need to give the orders,” Barracus continued, looking straight at him. “Outposts are only surveilling for now.”
Still, Reagan didn’t move, didn’t seem to be hearing. For once, Barracus’ expression creased in something like concern, as if he didn’t know how to jolt Reagan out of that stupor.
I cleared my throat and asked Barracus, “Are you suggesting we limit entry to Mountheim so none can fling here, but only come in via portal or…on foot?”
Barracus’ attention flicked to me, his chin dipping. “Or train, yes. We can reasonably allow passage only via places we can monitor.”
Cerridwen looked wan and unresponsive, as if she too hadn’t heard the question. Perhaps the only reason I wasn’t like her was that I had noticed Joy flinch at the cries, and my mind had narrowed on her instinctively. I had taken her to the garden, where the air was cool and free of the healer’s concoction meant to mask the scent of decay. The part of me that had been reeling had turned quiet as Joy told me she and Astrid had stayed near the outpost. They hadn’t seen the body hanging.
“We don’t forbid entry,” Barracus clarified, picking up where he left off. “But we can properly assess who is in the estate for the foreseeable future.”
When something like this could happen again. Otherwise, anyone could be out of the estate in seconds. This must be a common protocol if Barracus suggested it, even if the situation seemed far from common. I glanced at Reagan again.
Earlier, he’d faced the family and listened to the parents’ grief. It was unlike him to be so silent, and I wondered if this was what shock looked like.
“Reagan?” I murmured, reaching for his hand. “Did you hear Barracus?”
He blinked, his eyes dropping to the hand I’d just touched.
“It sounds reasonable to stop anyone from flinging for now,” I continued.
His head bowed, his unkempt, wet curls flopping over his face for a moment. “Yes,” he said at last. “Let’s do that. Anyone coming or going can be questioned by patrollers, especially any Scions.” Then, to Finn, he asked, “Did we get an invitation from Banfgaard yet?”
“Nothing yet,” Finn said, his voice low, eyes fixed on his lap.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t leave Mountheim now,” Cerridwen warned. “We need to find those responsible and deal with the panic.”
Reagan shook his head. “I’ll leave the moment they send the invitation,” he said gruffly, turning to his Second. “You wanted to send letters to the Order and get an audience with Madden. When is it? He didn’t respond, did he?” His voice went cold, seething. “Diplomacy is getting me nowhere, and now someone is dead.”
She met his gaze yet didn’t respond.
“Heil already has patrollers out looking for whoever did this,” Reagan went on, “but the odds of them finding this person now are slim at best. Every day I stay here is another day those measly lives walk free.” He sagged back against the chair, gazing at the centre of the table again. “I won’t wait until they decide to send another message or for them to show up like the last Scions. I want them found. I want to know where the Order is hiding, and the fastest way to do that is through elven spies.”
“We need to track them down if we want names and proof to bring before a magister,” Finn added. “It’s harder to catch them when they’re moving, so we need to find them. Forbidding passage will help, but a lot of people in this city will stay awake at night from now on.”
My thoughts returned to the Foley family and every hybrid-born on the estate who would likely be scared out of their minds after today.
“How many hybrid-born live in the estate?” I asked.
The table was quiet for a moment.
“It’s hard to know exactly,” Cerridwen said. “The last I heard, roughly forty percent of the Estate’s residents are of hybrid descent.”
My mouth slackened. I hadn’t imagined there were so many.
