Page 47 of The Never List
“What? Who would be bold enough to make direct attacks against the royal cities?”
The stories of the Legends’ thirst for violence are, well…legendary. I may not have seen that rage yet, but I haven’t exactly given them a reason to show me, either.
“Rumors say they call themselves the Faders,” she explains. “A group of rebels comprised of some of our own and, we suspect, those from across the sea.”
“There are people from Erithmore here?” My skin tightens at the thought. I’ve grown up hearing stories of Erithmore—the country to the north whose people loathe all things Lumathyst. The kings have issued dozens of mandatory royal posts warning of the threat they pose against us, urging us to comply, submit, and support the royal cities in order to ensure our protection against them. So many Never List missions have been dispatched to try to maintain a tentative peace with Erithmore, too, only for those put on the list to never return.
I swallow around a rock in my throat. If the kings charged Erin with such a mission…
No. It would’ve been in the records. Hundreds of those missions were listed “bound for Erithmore,” and her name wasn’t there.
“Yes,” Mirren answers, drawing me to the present.
“What’s their agenda?”
She leans back against the loveseat. “It’s too early to tell. So far, they’ve been focused on destruction in the Legends’ cities. Sometimes, in their efforts to destroy important property, some of the princes’ people get hurt.”
My heart rate kicks up, and I take a deep breath to slow it down. “Why haven’t I heard about this? Why isn’t the news a mandatory royal post?” Even in the Ashlands, we’re forced to listen to political messages in the town squares.
“The kings don’t know if the instigators are organized professionals or rebellious youths in over their heads. They’re leaning toward the latter.”
I tilt my head. “You don’t believe it’s youths,” I say, “and neither do the Legends. If they did, they wouldn’t have left like that.” Masks and jackets on, eyes ice-cold, powers crackling.
“How do you know?” she challenges. “You’ve just met them. Who’s to say they don’t rush off like that at any supposed threat to their territory? Haven’t you heard the stories of the Legends of Chaos? They rip apart anyone who tries to harm what belongs to them. Anyone who refuses to bow to them, anyone who refuses to obey their rules.”
I study her, noting the exaggerated way she says the last few sentences. “What do you think about the group, then? These Faders? Are they youths trying to show off or something more?”
She pours herself another drink. “Why does it matter what I think?”
“It matters to me,” I say. “I value your insight.”
She blinks at me, shocked, before she settles back into her indifferent attitude. “I think it’s more. I think it’s happening too frequently to be youths playing at being adults.”
“Well, if the threat is real, surely the kings would step in and assist, right? They wouldn’t leave it to their sons to handle everything. They could back the Legends with all ofthe kings’ enforcers if they wished, and the kings would still be protected. That’s one of the reasons Erithmore has kept its distance for so long, along with the magical protection of the goddesses’ wards. They can’t match the kings’ armies.”
Mirren looks like she wants to agree with me, but all she does is take a sip of her drink.
“Whoever they are,” I continue, “they’re mad. Everyone in Lumathyst knows even thinking about rebellion ends in a dungeon or a public execution.”
“You aren’t wrong,” she says, but there is a wariness about her that unsettles me.
Considering any form of rebellion is ludicrous, but I suppose knowing the way the kings will deal with it doesn’t mean someone isn’t foolish enough to attempt it. Even in the Ashlands, where souls are broken in the mines, whispers of rebellion and change are exchanged, though they’re never acted on. They’re more like tiny drops of hope to get us through each day, of a future we’ll never see.
“And they’re harming people?” I shake my head. “The enforcer said five were hurt.”
“It seems that anyone who happens upon them or gets in their way ends up getting hurt.”
“I thought life on this side of the border was perfect,” I mutter.
“This side of the border,” Mirren repeats, slowly sliding to the edge of the loveseat.
“Yes,” I say quickly, burying the panic in my heart. “There isn’t a whisper of this in Cedar and Silk.” At least that much I know is true; Layce would’ve told me. Same for Ivy in Leaf and Claw.
Mirren studies me for a moment. “The kings willdeliberately keep it that way. They’d never allow such unsubstantiated rumors to reach the cities where…unrest is most likely to take root.”
“But the more people they make aware, the more eyes would be on the lookout for the danger.”
“Maybe,” she says. “These Faders seem to be well trained. They blend in like shadows in the corners. Yet another reason to not believe it’s youths.” She nods to a shadow behind the wardrobe, and chills burst along my skin. “The Legends have yet to catch one alive.”
