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“Vicer.”
He nodded at us. “Follow me to the safe house.”
As I’d expected, the safe house was in the slums. But just as Vicer’s original headquarters had been carefully hidden in plain sight, so was this one.
It was a brothel.
We dismounted, leaving our horses with several of Vicer’s people, and he led us through the front entrance. It was surprisingly quiet, perhaps because it was the middle of the day. I peered into the dim front room, but Vicer was already turning, unlocking another door—just footspans from the first. I swallowed at the sight of the small supply closet.
“You just need to walk straight through the wall,” Vicer said.
Lorian went first, gently pulling me with him. And my heart jumped into my throat when he walked through the back wall. I held up one hand, and it melted into the wall. Moments later, we were walking up another set of stairs.
“How?” I got out.
He winked over his shoulder at me. “Magic.”
I gave him a long look, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead as we reached the top of the stairs. Booted footsteps sounded behind us as Vicer led us down a hall and into a suite.
I surveyed it as Rythos, Galon, and Marth spread out, making themselves at home. Telean sat on one of the stuffed chairs with a long sigh as she rubbed her feet. The suite was large, with five separate bedrooms connecting to a main living area. It was comfortable enough, but I was already fantasizing about curling up on a bed.
First, though, we needed to talk.
“Any luck with the hybrid camp?” I asked Vicer.
“Kaelin Stillcrest wouldn’t cooperate. I did everything I could. Both she and her generals refuse to move south.” Grief battled with helpless fury in his eyes. Since the moment his lover died, Vicer had been fighting for the hybrids. He was one of the most stubbornly determined people I knew. Leaving that camp before he’d finished convincing Stillcrest to abandon her suicidal ideology had likely killed a piece of him.
“They’re going to die,” Marth said.
I winced.
Vicer snarled, whirling on him. Marth stepped closer, and Lorian slowly moved between them. He didn’t say a word, but both men seemed to regain control of their rage. Vicer turned back to me, ignoring Marth.
Clearly, Vicer was on edge. And I couldn’t blame him. But I was going to have to consider the problem of Kaelin Stillcrest another time.
“We traveled through the night. We’ll need some rest,” I said.
Vicer nodded, gesturing to Ameri as she stepped inside the room. She looked tired, but she smiled at me—a very different attitude from when we’d first met. “Nice to see you, Prisca.”
“You too.”
“Let me show you your rooms,” she said.
Telean nodded. “I could use a nap.”
Rythos and the others followed her out of the room, but Vicer gestured for Lorian and me to sit at the small table.
“Where’s Madinia?” I asked.
“Working with Finley. She has been with him all day, creating these.”
Vicer held out a strange, ink-stained device about the size of a book. He gave a faint smile at my confusion and handed me a piece of parchment. The message had been stamped onto the parchment.
The Eprothan King is lying to you.
Brothers and sisters, hybrids and humans: None of us are corrupt.
I glanced up. Vicer’s smile widened. “Madinia wrote it. We’re using our contacts to get them into as many hands as possible.”
