Page 69 of The Fury She Holds
Faron’s chuckle followed her through the tunnels.
“Tal, focus. You need to know the layout before we go traipsing about the grounds.” There was something about Faron’s serious tone that Tal found adorable.
A miniature model of the mansion sat on the tunnel floor, erected out of whatever they could find. Faron’s basket stood in the middle, representing the extravagant house. Inside, rolls and croissants were placed strategically to signify different rooms of import. One of his shoes sat a short distance from the basket. Faron used a charred piece of wood to draw the path they would take through the surrounding forest, and another line connectedthe basket to his shoe. Tal’s dagger jabbed a rolled pastry with a delicious brown spice and sugar drizzle.
“So, the study is here, next to it is where they dine, and over here is a second house.” She pointed the pastry-tipped dagger at the shoe.
“It’s a dovecote, but I know for a fact that Mordency lost all his doves. The beetle-headed barnacle can’t run a house to save his life.” The nobleman in question appeared to be the one at the center of this invitation business.
“Remind me what a dovecote is again?” She waved the dagger around and took a bite from the impaled pastry.
“You’re sprinkling icing all over the grounds.”
“Maybe it’s snowing.” She took another bite, and more of the drizzle landed in their display.
“In the dead of summer.” His hair fell into his eyes when he shook his head at her. “A dovecote is where the doves are housed. Mordency’s is empty, at least of doves. He’s been hosting something there that he doesn’t want some of the other nobles to know about.”
“And that’s what we’re going to find out,” Tal added around a mouthful.
They planned to sneak into the main building through the servant’s quarters and try to eavesdrop on the house staff. If they were lucky, they may even be able to catch conversation among the guests. Once the event started, they would make their way to the dovecote.
“Do we engage? Will they recognize you?”
“As much as I’d love to indulge your fantasies, this is one I’m afraid that we will have to exercise restraint.”
“I don’t know what fantasies you’re talking about.”
The banter didn’t stop the whole way to the mansion. Monitoring Badger and Gully proved frustratingly boring, and Tal’s hatred for them did nothing but grow as the days passed.Now, a wave of excitement coursed through her. The hilt of the dagger in her hand kept her mind calm. It flipped in the air and landed back in her palm. She yearned for a fight, but these men were not the bottom of the barrel scum she encountered in the docks. It wouldn’t be wise to cross them.
A pine-scented breeze blew hair into her face. The surrounding forest provided the perfect cover for observing the property, and Tal could almost see it in its entirety from the branch she perched on. A twig snapped below as Faron crept through the leaf-littered ground. Branches bowed underneath her, and her palms scraped on the bark during her descent.
“It doesn’t seem large enough to hold any kind of auction,” she noted. The dovecote appeared exactly as Faron had described. The small stone structure was barely larger than a one-room home. At most, she expected no more than ten people would fit comfortably inside.
“I did find it odd he hosts there. Though, it does offer more privacy than anywhere else on the grounds.”
Faron relayed his observations regarding entrances and exits as well as the number of visible staff and visitors. They had arrived well before any guests and spent the afternoon getting a better layout. At the appearance of the carriages, Faron moved around the house to recognize any faces while Tal kept an eye on activity within the smaller building.
He returned with a newfound tension in his shoulders, his nostrils flaring.
“What is it?” Tal asked.
“Waylon is here.”
“What? Here?” Tal searched the grounds as if she would see him standing there.
Faron seethed. “I’ve known him since we were children. I would have trusted him with my life.”
Tal swallowed. Her usual snide comments died on her tongue as confusion blasted through her. Had Waylon betrayed them? “Who else is here?”
“Briggins and Lighton—the two nobles Rain mentioned—along with one other noble and a foreign dignitary.” His jaw ticked listing off each man that arrived.
“Are any of these men capable of buying human slaves?”
“If they are, I’ll personally take them to the palace to be humiliated in front of the whole court, and make sure their titles and lands are stripped from them.” His voice grew deep with anger. His hands gripped the handles of his knives, his knuckles white.
Tal wasn’t used to seeing him anything less than jovial. If Faron had fury, he most certainly would have lost control of it by now. “You can do that?”
He replied with a grim nod.
