I grinned. I was actually excited to see what Ryllae could do, and to see the utter terror on Lord and Lady Montrant’s faces. Frightening a confession out of them was far better than just killing them. I wanted to see them utterly disgraced before they went to the executioner’s block. Not to mention, they could provide the names of any others involved.
Asher had watched the entire exchange impassively.
I pursed my lips, considering, and figured why not? He might be useful. “Do you want to come?” I glanced to Ryllae. “If it’s all right with you?”
She considered for a moment, then nodded.
Asher seemed genuinely surprised. “An invitation from my lady? My, I thought this day would never come.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t push it.” I looked past him to Steifan and Tholdri. “Are you both ready?”
Tholdri grinned. “We were born ready.”
I rolled my eyes, then led the way out toward the street. Tholdri and Steifan would be going through the gates, while Ryllae and I would take back to the canals. I thought it best if Asher came with us and not the men. I might trust him more than I wanted, but I still didn’t trust him not to eat my friends. What did that say about our relationship? What did it say that I actually thought of it as a relationship?
As usual, too many questions not enough answers. Best just to focus on bringing justice. After all, it’s what I did best.
Chapter Eighteen
Ryllae, Asher, and I waited at the ladder leading up into the Montrant’s cellar. I tried to keep my breathing quiet as Asher listened for sounds coming from above.
After a moment, his silver eyes turned down to me, glinting in the light of my new lantern. “There are four people in the house, none in the cellar. We should be safe to go up.”
Ryllae huddled close to me, her eyes a bit wide.
I turned to her. Still in her blood-stained dress, she looked ready to frighten the Montrants on appearance alone. “Are you sure you can do this?”
She stood a little straighter. “They won’t be able to break through my glamour. They won’t see any of us.” She looked at Asher again. “But I will not lead them to their deaths, only to justice.”
I finally realized what she was worried about. “Asher won’t eat them. He can control himself.”
Surprisingly, I believed my words. Asher would not be consumed by simple bloodlust.
Ryllae considered for a moment, then nodded and started up the ladder. She reached the top, then tugged the handle. “It won’t budge. I think it’s locked. They must have found the note.”
She climbed back down, then Asher climbed up. He tugged the handle until metal groaned and wood splintered. He descended, then gestured for Ryllae to try again.
I watched her go up, then she opened the hatch and crawled into the cellar. I hoped her glamour would be enough. Now that the Montrants had seen the note, they would be wary. But that’s why we had Asher too. If Ryllae’s glamour failed, he could try to bespell them long enough for us to escape.
Tossing my cloak behind my shoulders, I ascended the ladder one-handed, setting my lantern on the wood floor above so I could climb out. The Seeing Sword was silent, just as silent as Ryllae as she waited in the cellar.
Asher came up next while I looked around with my lantern. The cages were gone, as were the bloody rags and any other signs the cellar had contained captives. Our note had given them time to clear away the evidence, but it would also prepare their minds for what was to come.
Asher listened again, one ear tilted toward the rooms above us. He nodded, signaling we were clear to venture up the stairs. Once we had the Montrants in our sights, Ryllae’s glamour would take over. She would conceal us, and frighten the Montrants into confessing.
If things went wrong . . . Asher and I would be there to clean up the mess. The Montrants would be brought to justice one way or another. If things went right, however, Steifan and Tholdri would be waiting outside in full hunter garb, ready to escort the criminals to make their confession to the Archduke.
We went up the stairs and opened the door leading into the estate. We were in the kitchen. A cast iron pot burbled over hot coals in the hearth, and smoked trout was already arranged on a wooden platter on the nearby table, but the cook was nowhere to be seen. It seemed the Montrants appreciated a late supper, which was convenient. They would be easier to frighten if they were both there to witness the phantoms.
Asher gestured for us to step back into an alcove at the sound of footsteps. I didn’t like it, but I knew Ryllae would prefer if I were the one with my back pushed up against Asher instead of her. My skin tingled at his nearness, even though he’d gone as utterly still as only the dead can manage. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my nearness made him uncomfortable. But I really didn’t know any better, I had no idea what he was thinking. I wondered if he was blocking me from his emotions, and what I might feel if he let down that wall.
I didn’t have time to consider it further. The footsteps retreated, taking the scent of smoked trout with them.
Ryllae stepped out of the alcove ahead of us, then hurried out of the kitchen.
We followed her down a narrow hall and past the dining room, plastering our backs against the wall just as the female cook emerged and headed back toward the kitchen to fetch the soup. If she saw us, Ryllae should be able to conceal us, but I wasn’t sure what would happen if she ran directly into us.
We waited as the cook returned to the dining room with two
