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Collin scoffed. “Lure her where?”
“Back through the mountains,” I said waving my arm in the direction of the kingdom. “I assume you don’t want her expanding her search to the rest of the Faeland?”
Riven shook his head. Collin’s cheeks turned red with whatever words he wouldn’t say in front of me.
“Then Caerth’s the only option.” I rested my hands along my belt. “We’ll have to give her reason to go back to through the pass. Make it seem like I’ve headed back to the capital.”
“And if she catches up with you?” Collin asked, his honey-colored eyes turning to thin slits.
I shrugged. “We’ll manage that on the road. The important thing is getting the head start.” I looked at Riven. Collin didn’t trust me, but he’d follow Riven’s orders.
“Then we leave tonight,” Riven said. “We’ll ride with Syrra and Nik across the pass, drawing the Dagger away from the city. The rest of the Elverin will stay here and wait for our signal that it’s safe to cross.” He cut a look to Collin who nodded and left the room.
“I need my blades,” I said, pointing to the outside door.
Riven grabbed his own cloak off a hook on the wall. He slowly fastened the neck with a tight knot of Elvish rope. “I’m coming with you,” he said, walking out the door.
WE CROSSED THE CITYin silence. Riven moved through the shadows just as easily as I did, scanning the streets for a sign of the Dagger. I followed behind him and kept my eyes on the roofs. We crept up to the back of the inn and I slipped Riven the key from my pocket.
“Wait for me in my room,” I whispered. “I know you know which one it is.”
Riven scoffed.
“I need to let the staff know I’m headed back to Caerth,” I said, crossing my arms. “We need to leave a trail for Gerarda to find if we expect her to follow it.”
I could hear the grind of Riven’s teeth as he loomed over me. He nodded. “If you’re not upstairs in one minute, I will come and find you.”
I agreed, watching him cross the alley in a dark blur. I followed him, turning to enter through the main doors instead of the back. The same Halfling who had checked me in on my first day was standing behind the counter.
“Good evening,” he greeted me with a polite nod.
“Lovely,” I said, sliding a pouch of gold coin toward him. “I must leave for the capital right away. I wanted to make sure my bill was paid. I leave tonight.”
He swiped up the bag, his eyes widened at the weight of it. “Absolutely,” he choked. “I shall get your change right away.”
“No need,” I said, patting the top of the desk. “Whatever is overpaid is for you.” I’d spotted the Halfling coming from the pubs each morning. Hopefully he wasn’t shy explaining where he’d gotten all that gold for drinks.
I gave him a tight smile before scurrying up the staircase.
Riven was standing beside the armoire when I walked in. Two orbs of golden faelight were the only sources of light in the room. They lit one side of Riven’s face and casted the other in shadow. I paused, realizing I understood him less since I pulled down his hood. The Shadow was familiar, but the tall, brooding Fae in my room was a stranger.
My eyes shifted to the rumpled sheets on the bed. Dynara, my double, was gone.
“I forgot to tell you she was in here,” I said, still staring at the bed. “Did you scare her?”
“No. The opposite actually. Is she...” He trailed off, too reserved to finish his thought.
“From a brothel?” I asked, crossing my arms. I didn’t know what Dynara had said, but it had put Riven on edge.
He coughed. “We don’t call them that here.”
“She was, in a past life,” I said, rushing to the large table where my extra blades were laid. “I needed someone to keep your scouts distracted. It was an easy solution to find a look-alike.”
“You hired a courtesan?” Riven whispered. His violet eyes wide and unfocused as he noticed the unmade bed.
“I’m the king’s Blade,” I scoffed, throwing open one of my bags. “I kill people. Lots of people, and you’re surprised that I have connections with courtesans?”
“I’m surprised you have connections with anyone,” he said evenly. I could feel the weight of his stare on my back. My skin shivered with how easily he tore at my words. How accurate his assessment of me was, even in a fleeting comment. I wasn’t used to being marked, especially by a target.
