Page 53

“Same thing.” Red ran a finger along the page. “I’ve talked to everyone I can find who grew up in the Rim, anyone who saw the same ghosts as Farris. Path’s not precise but the landmarks are there. You’ll see it suggests a general southeastern route, so that’s where I’ll start.”

Fenrir went still, the room taking on a new and curious shape.

“Volunteers only,” Red continued, voice quiet. “Put out the call to all active and non-active-duty soldiers. It’s taken some time to gather resources since we won’t have time to set up a full supply chain, but the fleet is already on its way, and the soldiers have been given the order to muster. We should be able to intercept the fleet in three days' march.”

“But I thought you said—”

“I said I wasn’t leaving Sparks behind.” Red’s finger traced the line of sightings towards the far corner. “Here’s the deal. You just experienced some of the worst trauma of your life. A surprise attack from an enemy we didn’t know existed, who almost killed you but instead took your arm, and then Sparks went and got kidnapped like some bloody cherry on top. This isn’t a normal situation and you’re not gonna think clearly about it as a result. What’s going on inside your head” —Red made a sharp gesture, hand slicing towards her ear— “it’s all fucked up. And that’s okay, Rawkner. What you’ve gotta do now is put your trust in the people around you. Listen to them, because listening to yourself isn’t going to give you a clear picture.

“And the reality I see? You’ve sustained a massive injury, and you won’t be healed for weeks, so what if the journey across the Rim kills you? What if infection sets in and you never even make it to where Sparks is? Or what if you do make it but you can’t even hold a sword let alone fight for his life and then die right in front of him because you were too stupid to respect your own limit—”

Fenrir opened his mouth to protest but Red kept going.

“—if temporary limitations, while the Empire falls apart in the aftermath so when you or Sparks or any of us come home, we don’t even have a home to return to?”

Fenrir stared at Red, unable to speak—all the reasons this was a terrible idea catching in his throat because Red was right, no matter how wrong it all felt. He trusted Red. She made good, solid choices, over and over again. So, she had to be right about this too, even if it felt wrong.

She had to be.

“So, I will lead the rescue operation while you stay here and lead the recovery—while recovering yourself.”

“Red,” he finally managed to say. “You really believe this is the right move?”

“I do.” Red met his eyes when she spoke, voice level with a command he’d seen her wield often enough in the Stacks. “This is what we signed up for, Fenrir. This is what we got ourselves into when we decided to stand against Lore.”

There was no room in her voice for doubt. She held Fenrir’s eyes with a strength that bordered on rigidity, decision made like it was her in charge of the Empire, rather than him. And hadn’t it always been that way? Red doing the real work while he managed Lore’s fallout, creating the space she needed to grow the Stacks into what it was today?

He could trust her. He did trust her. If there was anyone in his life he could trust, it was Red. And he’d made a promise to Orpheus and the Empire. If this was the only way for him to fulfill both, he had to give it a shot.

“Alright,” Fenrir breathed, ignoring how the admission felt more like giving up than giving in. “Alright, we’ll do it your way.”

“I’m not done yet, Rawkner.” Red’s laptop landed in Fenrir’s lap. “There’s a tower I still need up and running and all this planning has put me even further behind. Mercer will be your point of contact. He looks out for his men first and the job second, but he’s good at what he does and won’t take advantage of you. You finish my tower while I find Sparks and by the time I’m back we’ll be tripping over ourselves to trade off, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Thank you.” Red let out a shaky breath.

It was almost worse than the missing arm, the wound growing inside him. The nagging insistence that for all the good choices he’d made, he’d missed something important—overlooked a detail that had led to all this. The wheels he’d set in motion years ago had never moved so fast Fenrir couldn’t keep up, but now he felt in a race, failing to outrun the avalanche of his decisions, the good and the bad and all the gray in-between, when doing the right thing had meant someone, somewhere, was suffering.

He’d simply never expected that person would be Orpheus.

I saved him from Lore, Fenrir thought, wishing he could scream. I saved everybody from Lore, why isn’t that enough?

“It’s a city, you know. That’s what Daedra said.”

Fenrir looked up from the map, blinking.

“Really?”

“It’s one of their cities, apparently. Disappeared from Hell a few hundred years ago.”

“You don’t think…” A few hundred years would place it right at the time of the Incident. “Is that how they survived the Incident? This city?”

Red shrugged, the answers they needed hidden in the mind of the elf who had tried to kill him. A prisoner who didn’t seem inclined to help them, but had happily helped their enemy, for reasons unbeknownst to them.

“Red…” Fenrir breathed, loose ends trailing, but almost touching, so close he said, “I think Lore knew about them. Not just Daedra, but them…”

Red met his eyes and there was fire there, hot and burning. “Wouldn’t surprise me one hells-damned bit, Rawkner.”