And as I’d stared at that strange blade, I’d thought about what I needed to do. Claude had to be made aware of the apparently very active shadow market in Archwood, and the fact that at least two of his guards were involved in not only the trade but the harvesting.
Knowing that Claude wouldn’t be awake until later, I’d headed out to the gardens in hopes of stilling my mind. The gardens and having my hands in the soil would’ve helped if not for the smoke I’d spotted as soon as I stepped out of the manor. I didn’t need my gifts to know what the cause of the fires was.
Him.
It was why he’d said I didn’t want him to answer the question of what he was going to do.
He’d sought revenge. But could it even count as revenge when whatever his actions were likely prevented another Hyhborn from being used in such a manner? Sounded more like justice to me, as harsh as that was.
I hadn’t seen Finn or Mickie that morning, but I hadn’t exactly looked for them as I entered the gardens. I thought— no, I knew— there was no reason to. They were no longer of this realm.
And I didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for them, not even Finn and his nice smiles. What they were a part of was wrong, horrific even. It was nothing like the stories I’d heard of people digging up Hyhborn graves to use what was left of their remains. They were committing torture and murder, and if they had succeeded in draining the Lord of all his blood? Harvesting his . . . his parts and selling them on the shadow market? Eventually, those kinds of deeds always came to light. I needed no intuition to tell me how King Euros would respond if he learned of what had been attempted against one of his lords. He’d send the dreaded Prince of Vytrus to handle Archwood, and whatever unrest was happening at the border would be the least of our problems.
But it wasn’t even that terrible reality that caused my heart to seize. It was the idea that . . . that he could’ve died. The mere thought made me sick to my stomach, and I shouldn’t have that kind of reaction to it, no matter the brief past I wasn’t sure he even remembered.
Was he still in Archwood?
I remained still, silencing my thoughts, but nothing came.
But I hoped—
“No,” I whispered, cutting that particular idiotic thought off. I would not hope to see him again. Besides the fact that he was a lord, there was always the risk of a Hyhborn discovering my abilities and accusing me of being a conjurer.
It would be best if I never saw him again.
No, that voice whispered in my mind, it would not be.
A shadow appeared beside mine, blocking out the early-morning glare of the sun. I looked over my shoulder, spotting Grady.
“Been looking for you,” he announced. “You hear about the fires early this morning?”
“No, but I’ve seen the smoke.” I nibbled on my lower lip. “Do . . . do you know what happened?”
“The Twin Barrels and Jac’s— the blacksmith’s place—burned. That’s what Osmund told me,” he said, referring to another guard. “He was on the wall early this morning when the fires started.”
I tensed.
“When I first heard of the fires, I was hoping it was the Iron Knights— ”
“Gods, Grady,” I cut him off, stomach twisting. “You shouldn’t even be thinking that, let alone speaking it out loud.”
“What?” Grady rolled his eyes. “There isn’t anyone out here.”
“You don’t know who could be near and overhear you,” I pointed out. “If someone did and reported you?” My heart stuttered. “You’d be tried for treason, Grady, and by tried, I mean executed without a trial.”
“Yeah, and you can’t tell me that’s not wrong,” he shot back. “The fact that the mere suspicion of being sympathetic to the Iron Knights ends in death or worse? Like what was done to Astoria?”
“It is messed up, and so is hoping the Iron Knights had something to do with the fires since you know exactly what happened to Astoria.”
“Again, you can’t tell me that’s not also wrong.”
“I’m not saying it isn’t. . . .” I trailed off, staring at him. Ever since news of Beylen and the Iron Knights first reached Archwood, Grady had shown more than a passing interest in what was being said about the rebels. And how could he not? Both of us were products of a kingdom that cared very little for its most vulnerable, but we had a life now. We had a future, and I had already risked that enough for the both of us. Worry gnawed at me as I looked away.