You are capable of far more than you know.
Once, not long ago, Iris wouldn’t have believed those words. But she felt the tides pull beneath her, as if she stood beneath a bloodred moon.
She took the hilt in her hand.
{42}
Surrender My Hands
Iris set the sword down on her desk. In the mellow lamplight, the blade almost looked like it belonged next to the typewriter. But as she gazed at them, she felt as if two worlds and two vastly different times were colliding.
Her mind was distant as she retraced her dream.
The Inkridden Tribune was quiet and empty. Only a few desk lamps were on, making it feel like the dead of night when it was just after sunrise. Iris, sword in hand and wearing the clothes Enva had left behind for her, had gone directly to the Tribune as soon as the museum doors had unlocked. It was only a block away, and she didn’t want to try to fight the morning rush to her flat with a sword in tow that was most likely worth more than all the gold in Oath’s vault.
“Who’s there?” Helena’s voice rang from the office. She sounded haggard and irritable.
“It’s only me,” Iris replied. “Early for once.”
A beat later, Helena appeared in the doorway, wreathed in smoke. She took a long draw from her cigarette as she strode around the desks.
“You all right, kid? I heard there was a bomb last night in the Green Quarter.”
Iris’s mouth went dry as she pushed down the memories. Memories that made it seem like she still had glass trapped beneath her skin. “I’m not hurt.”
Helena came to a stop, intently studying her. “You certain? I can take you to the hospital now, if—”
“I’m okay.” Iris smiled, even though her face felt stiff. “Truly.”
“Well, I smoked an entire pack last night, thinking you were dead and despising myself for letting you go alone to that jamboree.” She extinguished the cigarette in a nearby ashtray. “Do you know what happened?”
Iris released a deep breath. “Dacre was there. I assume it was an assassination attempt?”
“That’s what my informant told me. Fifty-three people killed, twenty more injured. Eleven still unaccounted for. The chancellor is in critical condition at the hospital. They don’t expect him to make it. Dacre, on the other hand, vanished. No one knows where he is, but a survivor said he looked completely unscathed from the blast. Not even gunfire could touch him.” Helena paused, reading Iris’s expression. “Here, sit down, kid. You look pale. Let me make you some coffee.” That was when she finally noticed the sword on Iris’s desk. “And that is King Draven’s sword. What in all the gods’ names is it doing here in my newsroom?”
“It was given to me,” Iris said. “And I need to hide it in your office. Just for a little while.”
“Hide? Iris, have you—” Helena cut herself off when they both heard footsteps, descending the stairs above. Someone was approaching the Tribune, even though it was only a quarter after six and work didn’t commence until eight.
“Please, Helena,” Iris whispered.
Helena sighed. “Fine. Quickly now, before someone sees it. I don’t want word to get around that I stole a priceless relic from the people of Oath.”
Iris took the hilt and hurried after Helena into her office. It wasn’t a large room, and they had no choice but to hide the sword beneath Helena’s desk.
“Ms. Hammond?”
Iris froze at the sound of Tobias’s voice. She turned to see him weaving around the desks, approaching the office door. He also seemed shocked to find Iris there so early, his brows rising as he came to a stop.
“Tobias,” Helena greeted him. “Something wrong?”
“I was given an urgent post.”
“For the Tribune?”
“For Iris, to be delivered here at first light,” he said, holding out an envelope.
Iris stared at it. She went cold with dread when she recognized the spider-like handwriting. But she accepted the post from Tobias. Her nail bent as she broke the seal and read a succinctly typed request:
Dear Iris E. Winnow,
I would like to invite you to my estate for tea at half past four this afternoon. There are some important matters we need to finish discussing. Please come alone. You will be safe here.
Sincerely,
Mr. Ronald M. Kitt
“What is it, Iris?” Helena’s anxious voice broke the silence.
Iris folded the letter. It hadn’t occurred to her until then, and she almost felt foolish for it. But she should have known the moment she watched Dacre take the stage at the Green Quarter. She should have realized where the god had been hiding. What door he had used to reach Oath from the inside.