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Malin’s gentle hand slid around my waist until she embraced me from behind. “How could you have known this was a possibility?”
“Because it is something I would do if I wanted to hook an enemy. Dangle what they want out in the open.”
Malin pressed a kiss between my shoulders. I adjusted so I could pull her against my side, then kissed her forehead. To have her close soothed the disdain for my own failure to a dull ache.
Niklas returned a moment later. He met my gaze and shook his head. “Nothing more than a piece of glass.”
My eyes shadowed as emotions toiled in tight knots in my chest.
“Now we know,” Valen said, holding up a hand. No doubt a silent warning to me to keep calm. “There are false rings. We still need to find the true ring, but now that we know what we are facing, how do we do it?”
“Nik, is there a way we can use these mesmer-sniffing elixirs?” Tova asked.
“I can make more,” he said, “but they take at least two weeks to brew.”
“In the meantime, we think of another way to find the true ring. Please, gods, anything to get us out in the open,” Halvar said.
A few people chuckled.
“Malin is the elixir anyway,” Bard Strom said. Malin’s brother had proven clever with his traps around Skítkast. Creating sinkholes for the skyds, or trip cords that fired hidden arrows. When the others stared at him, Bard flushed and went on, “I mean, she wakes the ring. If we find one, we simply bring it to her, and we’ll know.”
“Yes,” Lynx offered, “but there could be dozens. Hundreds.”
Bard shrugged and tossed a handful of nuts from a bowl into his mouth.
What was the move? Hunting the true ring in a sea of false rings? Starving through the frosts? How were we to make our next step, and how was I to do it without getting Malin killed?
If Hob was not known by Ivar as our ally, I would use him once again as a key to the underbelly. Surely some crook or thief in the slums knew something about what Ivar was scheming. They might even know where the ring was being kept.
The underbelly was resourceful enough, even skyds used the crooks as informants sometimes, and . . .
My heart stuttered in my chest. An idea shaped in my head. Warmth blossomed as each step unfolded, each possibility took hold.
I tried. Gods, I tried since Elise was in the room, but as my mind whirled, as pieces of a scheme fell into place, the grin came as naturally as breathing.
“I know that bleeding look.” Raum gripped Lynx’s shoulder, eyes on me as he shook his fellow Kryv. “Scheming. He’s scheming.”
Halvar’s head dropped back against the wall. “Finally.”
“What thoughts are you spinning, Nightrender?” Malin whispered.
I drew her knuckles to my lips, then looked back to the room. “We have moves to make. There are some folk I’ve been meaning to visit. Some who might know what is going on outside these walls. It’s a long overdue visit.”
“Who’s the mark?” Tova asked.
The same tight, almost staggering pressure clenched in my chest. The sensation that came whenever the steps of our dance started to fall into place. We needed to speak with a man who knew how to play both edges of the sword. A man we could bend, but never break.
I didn’t answer Tova, simply returned to my place beside Malin, and added a bit of cruelty to my smile. “Load the ships. We’re returning to Klockglas.”
CHAPTERTEN
THE MEMORY THIEF
We sailedin a fleet of three longships. It had been challenging to pick and choose who would remain in the Skítkast camp and who would make the journey to Klockglas.
Junius remained with the Falkyn Nest. Niklas did not revel in the idea of leaving his wife, but his mesmer and elixirs were always needed, and one of the Falkyn heads needed to remain to guard their gates. Once we had word on the queen’s ring, we’d reunite.
Still, it was strange to only have half the Guild of Kryv with us. Isak and Fiske were divided. Isak sailed with us to darken minds if needed. Since Gunnar had joined us, Eryka and her seer abilities were in tow, so Fiske reluctantly remained in Skítkast to sense danger if any skyds tried to strike the walls again.
