I can’t let her see it though, so my voice is all mock bravado. “If he’s foolish enough to trust me twice, then he’ll get what he deserves—"
“Or he’s playing his own game.”
There’s nothing I can do except shrug, because I know she’s speaking the truth. I haven’t figured out what stakes he’s playing for, but Keir definitely has some kind of game in play. “Most likely. But until we find the horn, the point is neither here nor there. We’re using each other, we’re both aware of it, and now that I’ve dragged your sorry ass out of your stone prison, I’m about to put the winning piece on the board. I just need one or two pieces of information.”
She rolls her eyes. “What?”
“Who did Father send you to kill?”
A hint of steel settles over her expression. “Mistmark.”
“That makes no sense. You’ve tried before.” I watch her expression closely, because this is Soraya’s weak spot. I don’t know how. I don’t know what happened exactly. But I do know she squirms like a worm on the hook whenever his name is mentioned. “You failed. And why would Father send you to the Court of Blood? How did he know Mistmark would even be here?”
She throws her hands in the air. “Ruhle said Mistmark was arriving for a tense negotiation with Malechus. I wasn’t in a position to argue.”
And there it is….
“Ruhle,” I whisper. “He’s the one who brought the information to Father. He’s the one who set this game in play.”
Soraya flexes her knuckles as though she’s thinking about conjuring a weapon. “You think Ruhle set this up? But why? We’re the ones in the field. If one of us brings the horn to Father….”
We’ll be the heroes. Not him.
I can’t stop my feet from pacing.
A thousand thoughts misfire through my brain. “Maybe he thinks he’ll earn his way into Father’s good graces for the sake of the information.” No, that makes no sense. Father doesn’t give credit to those who sit back and wait. He urges for us to strike and strike hard. He admires bravery, fierceness, courage and determination.
But he also admires manipulation.
Play the game right, and you earn a pat on the back. Play it wrong, and you’re right back there in the Abyss.
I think of everything I know about Ruhle and his seven wraith lackeys.
“If Ruhle set this into play then he’s waiting for us to retrieve the horn,” I say. “He’ll hit us hard the second we get our hands on it. Then he delivers it to Father.” I frown. “But why… why didn’t he send you straight for Mistmark? Why make the play here? At the Court of Blood? If Mistmark had the horn, then why this elaborate ruse to draw him out of his castle?”
Once again, there’s a flicker of some unknown emotion in her eyes. “It’s not that easy getting into Mistmark’s castle. Or getting out.”
“Well, yes, I have met Falion.”
She scowls. “So have I. Indeed, I promised him a reckoning should we meet again. But Falion’s not… he’s not the only weapon Mistmark has up his sleeve. The castle… it exists within an Other World, outside of time. He makes the rules there. He controls the entire castle. It’s shrouded in mist, and it’s hard to gauge sound and sight within those mists. There’s also something that hunts the forest around the castle. To make it past both….”
“How’d you get in?”
Soraya snorts. “Damsel in distress. How else? I appealed to his sense of mercy. When I ‘woke’ I was tucked carefully in his bed with a healer hovering over me.”
In his bed? Interesting. But there’s no point dwelling on that. I feel like there’s a knot within this chain of thought that needs to be untethered. “Mistmark’s impossible to breach. Ruhle knows Father wants the horn. But how did he know that Mistmark would leave the castle? What did Malechus have on Mistmark in order to draw him out?”
This time, I’m not mistaking the heat in Soraya’s cheeks. She glances to the side angrily.
“You.” It’s all starting to make sense. “You were the prize Malechus used in order to get his hands on Mistmark. He blackmailed him—marriage to Belladonna and the bridal tithe paid in exchange for you.” But how did he…? A thought occurs. A terrible thought. “Ruhle’s working with Malechus.”
It’s the only way Malechus would have known that Mistmark swore bloody vengeance upon my sister.
Maybe the Blood Prince doesn’t know who our brother is. Maybe they struck a deal. Maybe they think they’re going to double-cross each other. But there’s no other way that Malechus would have known what Soraya meant to Mistmark unless that information came from within the wraithen court.
“Falion’s the only other one who had that knowledge,” Soraya counters.
“Falion’s tongue is so far up Mistmark’s ass, I don’t think he would ever betray him.”
Soraya cuts me a dangerous look. “I haven’t seen a single glimpse of Ruhle or one of his little lickspittles.”
It doesn’t mean he’s not pulling strings behind the scenes. “If he’s here, then this game has more moving parts than either of us can handle.”
I don’t like the odds stacked against me. Father. Keir. Mistmark and Falion. Malechus. Ruhle.
Not to mention a certain vicious Blood Court princess whose curse is currently weaving its talons into my heart.
“The horn’s somewhere here at court.” Regardless of whether Malechus or Ruhle are the ones behind this ploy, they’ve managed the set up the play quite neatly. A little thrill runs through me. A means to steal the fucking thing right out from under their noses. “Malechus is watching both Keir and Mistmark. Falion’s out there somewhere, and he doesn’t like Malechus either. I don’t know what Belladonna wants, but I think she’ll take the chance to stab her cousin in the back if she gets one. And none of them will work with Ruhle. If he truly is behind all of this, then he’s
