Page 82 of The Ragpicker King
“Why is Conor bringing you to the Palace?” Mayesh said quietly. “What does he expect you to do there?”
“So youdidread the note,” Lin said accusingly.
“Either way, you have confirmed my suspicions,” he said. “I amnot a fool, Lin, and I have eyes everywhere at Marivent. I know Conor had you brought to the library on the night of the banquet. Why? What does he mean about what isrequiredof you?”
Lin hesitated. She could not think of a lie he couldn’t check easily. He knew too much about the Palace, about the royal family. More than they knew themselves.
She took a deep breath. The Prince had told her not to speak of this to anyone. But there was no way around telling her grandfather something: He would dig and dig at it otherwise, like a dog trying to find a bone buried in a garden. “I cannot say,” she told him. “The Prince placed me under a royal order.”
Mayesh stared, his pipe halfway to his mouth. “You’re not serious.”
“I would not lie,” Lin said, “about such a thing.”
“Then this is about his father.” Mayesh stood up abruptly. He paced to the window, staring out at the modest view of the Sault, the cobblestoned street stretching down and away, toward the gates.
“I cannot tell you,” Lin said, feeling wretched. “It is not that I do not want to. I have questions; you may know the answers. But Icannot.”
“I do not like this.” Mayesh’s pipe was burning away between his fingers; he seemed to have forgotten it was there. “Conor has changed, you know. Since first you met him, when Kel was injured.”
“So I’ve heard,” Lin said dryly. “Mostly from Kel.”
“He isn’t wrong. And yet—how much can a man truly change, when he has only ever been raised to be one kind of person?” Mayesh’s pipe had gone out; he tossed it impatiently onto the table. “In the past, his plans have led to disaster. I do not want him to drag you into disaster with him.”
“There is only so much I can tell you,zai.” She could not help but wonder. The worry in his voice sounded real. But that didn’t mean his concern was for her, or only her. He might also be concerned for Castellane, for the alliance with Kutani, for the nobles on the Hill and their thoughts about their Prince...
Lin sighed. “I can tell you that Con—that Prince Conor has not asked me to do anything I would not have been willing to do anyway, had he not placed me under an order.”
“Recall what our sages say.Live by the Laws, do not die by them.You must put your own safety first, Lin.” When she did not reply, he let out an irritated breath, and said, “Then why did he place you under an order at all?”
“He believes I don’t like him,” Lin said, and saw her grandfather raise an eyebrow. “I don’t think he knows what to do with such a thing. He’s never been around anyone who didn’t at least have topretendto like him. He has no idea how to ask someone to help him just for the sake of helping him—not because they want something else from him as well.”
A look close to amusement flickered across Mayesh’s face. “I see you know our Prince better than I thought. Perhaps better than he knows himself.” He picked up the note from the table. “He wants you in Valerian Square during the blessing,” he said. “Very well. Come, and bring Mariam with you. She’ll enjoy the pomp and circumstance of it all. I will make sure for her sake,” he added, refolding the note, “that you have a good view.”
Jerrod
Jerrod,
I’ve considered your warning, and I’ve decided you’re right. Though it seemed expedient to keep a certain person around, the danger now outweighs the potential benefit. Please read the following list of instructions carefully, then do what you must do. I trust you will act with all speed.
Beck
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Andreyen isn’t pleased with you, you know,” Ji-An said.
“Really?” Kel peered out at the harbor. “Did he tell you that?”
He had to admit that it was a good night for sailing to Tyndaris, despite his general pessimistic mood. The wind was still, and there was little chop to the harbor water. The moon flashed out only occasionally behind a thick scrim of clouds, allowing for a darkness that hid their movements as he, Merren, Jerrod, and Ji-An clustered at the edge of a narrow dock.
As Andreyen had promised, a small skiff waited for them there. (It seemed he maintained a fleet of shallow, quick-moving boats with which smuggled goods were ferried from ships moored far out at sea to the caves along the coastline where pirates like Laurent Aden lurked in wait.)
Ji-An shot Kel an irritable look before scrambling into the boat. Kel, Jerrod, and Merren followed suit.
The skiff was manned by two gruff oarsmen in worn oilcloth who looked as if they’d much rather be knocking back pints at one of the lighted taverns along the Key. But they were Andreyen’s men,polite enough as Kel and the others settled themselves in the boat and they pushed off from the shore.
They skimmed across the water, silent save for the rhythmic slap of the oars. The tide was at its lowest, and the drowned island of Tyndaris rose from the water near the harbor mouth, crowned by jagged temple ruins whose outlines stood out starkly against the cloudy sky.
Merren and Jerrod sat in the bow, their heads close together. Kel wondered what they were discussing, but not for long. Ji-An, frowning, plonked herself down on a seat facing him. “Didn’t you hear what I said on shore?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “The Ragpicker King—”
