Page 80 of The Space Between Stars

“He sounds perfect for you,” Pinto chortled.

Attilatia bit at her cheek. “That remains to be seen.” For the time being, their relationship did not extend beyond being a very convenient way for her and Thedexemore to stay alive. “Now, when is your friend coming to tell me about the Shadewalker?”

Pinto’s spine stiffened and then slumped as he released a sigh. “Pragmatics, pragmatics. Of course, you must get what you came for, eah?”

A sudden knock came at Pinto’s door. Both jumped, Attilatia so much that she knocked into a side table, casting a bowl of trinkets to the floor. They scattered across the plush carpet in every direction—hardly her fault Pinto had to keep things so overcrowded.

Ignoring the mess, Pinto drew a dagger from beneath the tea table, and her mouth fell open.

“Who’s there?” His voice held nothing of its usual sweetness.

She never would have guessed anything could make him act like that. Not Pinto. Attilatia found her feet and backed away from the door until she was against the doll shelves.

“I’m here from Harbent Alchems,” came a boy’s muffled voice.

Attiltatia’s shoulders fell. She’d pulled a doll from a shelf and clutched it to her chest, prepared to hack at their impending foe.

“I have a transcript for Mesu—” The voice hesitated, before making mincemeat of Pinto’s name. “Peento… Erayt–ieeohs.” Why the Nelfinden could never pronounce Azadonian terms never ceased to vex her.

Pinto unbolted the door and cracked it. His demeanor returned to placidity. “Many thanks, and my regards to your master. Tell him I’m sending Fekkas. Happy Fates.”

Pinto sighed as he closed the door and bolted it, a piece of paper clutched to his chest. He put his back to the wall and slid to the floor. In that moment, Attilatia saw Pinto for his body, not his mind, and realized just how aged he was. Older than her father would have been by now. All that over a mention of the Shadewalker.

She set the doll down and hurried to him. “Are you—?”

Pinto waved her off. “Fine. Fine.” He held up the paper. “This is the screening you requested of me.” He opened the letter as though it were a scheduled ledger with nothing of interest.

As he scanned it, he tensed way a cat might in the face of a stray dog. Very suddenly, it was hard to breathe. He didn’t need to say anything. She already knew.

“Atti. Where did you get that wine?” The edge had returned to his voice, sharp enough to open a vein.

“As I told you. It was a gift.”

The old man’s eyes hardened. “From whom?”

“Tell me what it says,” she countered.

Pinto swallowed. His eyes searched hers for answers before he spoke. “It was tainted with veilstrike.”

Attilatia’s hand found her throat. “It—it’s poisoned, then?”

“Veilstrike is not just poison. It’s a very expensive and very deliberate way of making someone’s death look like an accident. And it’s a hallmark of the Shadewalker’s Ghosts.” Fates help her. She’d nearly drunk the wine on multiple occasions. “It lies latent in the body for almost a ten-day before it is fully metabolized. At which point it stops a heart in an instant.”

“You’re saying he did try to kill me.”

Pinto’s jaw jutted forward. “And he spent a lot of resources making it look like he didn’t.”

She’d thought she was paranoid—falling back on survival tendencies. But Roskaad Thyatira had indeed brought death to her doorstep… So why bother sending a coded letter with yet another mystery? “He did tell me not to drink it.”

Pinto shook his head. “I never wanted it to come to this, but I think we need to discuss your taste in men.”

Attilatia paced, hands caught in her short hair. He might have been given the bottle by another party. Instructed to give it to her. The note could be his way of telling her who it was. She tried to think back to their last conversation. It all seemed so fuzzy now.

“Thedexemore is in trouble,” she’d told him.

“I know,” he’d responded.

She’d sent Thedexemore into the Red Wing under his watch, sure that Roskaad found value in her as a political ally—perhaps more. If the General Prime had wanted her to be long dead by the time he returned to Seraphinden, why had he agreed to help protect her brother? Could he know who Thedexemore was? If he had any affiliation with Thacklore, he very well might. She considered the Ratka on his chest.