We study each other for a long moment, the pixie watching us both. Finally, Lord Roiben lets out a long breath. “Probably more of a coward. Very well, Jude, kingmaker. We will gamble with you. Put the crown on a head other than Balekin’s and I will help you keep it there.” He pauses. “But you will do something for me.”
I wait, tense.
He steeples his long fingers. “Someday, I will ask your king for a favor.”
“You want me to agree to something without even knowing what it is?” I blurt out.
His stoic face gives little away. “Now we understand each other exactly.”
I nod. What choice do I have? “Something of equal value,” I clarify. “And within our power.”
“This has been a most interesting meeting,” Lord Roiben says with a small, inscrutable smile.
As I stand to leave, Kaye winks an inkdrop eye at me. “Luck, mortal.”
With her words echoing after me, I leave the encampments and head back to Cardan.
The Ghost is up when we return. He had been out and brought back with him a handful of tiny apples, some dried venison, fresh butter, and several dozen more bottles of wine. He’s also brought down a few pieces of furniture I recognize from the palace—a silk-embroidered divan, satin cushions, a shimmering spider-silk throw, and a chalcedony set of tea things.
He looks up from the divan where he is sitting, appearing both tense and exhausted. I think he’s grieving, but not in a human way. “Well? I believe I was promised gold.”
“What if I could promise you revenge?” I ask, conscious once again of the weight of debts already on my shoulders.
He trades a look with the Bomb. “So she really does have a scheme.”
The Bomb settles herself on a cushion. “A secret, which is far better than a scheme.”
I grab an apple, go to the table, and then hoist myself onto it. “We’re going to walk right into Balekin’s feast and steal his kingdom out from under him. How’s that for vengeance?”
Bold, that’s what I need to be. Like I own the place. Like I am the general’s daughter. Like I can really pull this off.
The corner of the Ghost’s mouth turns up. He takes out four silver cups from the cupboard and sets them before me. “Drink?”
I shake my head, watching him pour. He returns to the divan but rests at the edge as though he’s going to have to jump up in a moment. He takes a big swallow of wine.
“You spoke of the murder of Dain’s unborn child,” I say.
The Ghost nods. “I saw your face when Cardan spoke of Liriope and when you understood my part in it.”
“It surprised me,” I say honestly. “I wanted to think Dain was different.”
Cardan snorts and takes the silver cup that was meant for me as well as his own.
“Murder is a cruel trade,” says the Ghost. “I believe Dain would have been as fair a High King as any prince of the Folk, but my father was mortal. He would not have considered Dain to be good. He would not have considered me good, either. You’d do well to decide how much you care for goodness before you go too far down the road of spycraft.”
He’s probably right, but there’s little time for me to consider it now. “You don’t understand,” I tell him. “Liriope’s child lived.”
He turns to the Bomb, clearly astonished. “That’s the secret?”
She nods, a little smug. “That’s the scheme.”
The Ghost gives her a long look and then turns his gaze to me. “I don’t want to find a new position. I want to stay here and serve the next High King. So, yes, let’s steal the kingdom.”