involvement. If they’re holding the girl’s father there, it’s likely he’s guarded by the Hand’s agents, which would implicate Antoine. The Mirror won’t like invading Kasis for two reasons. First, they know Antoine is dirty and they observe him in order to gather intelligence on the Hand’s movements. If they take him out, there goes their chance to spy on the Hand. Second, if the Hand isn’t there for some reason and if the Mirror’s agents don’t find any clear- cut proof of Antoine’s involvement with the Gauls, invading Kasis would cause an international incident of huge proportions.”
William nodded again. “I have it figured out. I will use the journal as leverage.”
“That’s a really dangerous game to play,” Declan said. “If you get burned, William, there is nothing any of us can do.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“My job is to warn. Here is the interesting thing. According to the treaties, if de Kasis is found to have violated his agreements, the realm that proves his wrongdoing gets to confiscate his lands. There isn’t much land there, but whatever there is will become the property of Adrianglia. You need to buy that land from the government. They wouldn’t sell it to you normally, so you have to make that part of your deal with the Mirror. It will give you access to the Mire, and you can smuggle your girl and her family out.”
William exhaled. “So all I need is to get the money to buy the place. Borrow it, steal it …”
Declan stared at him.
“What?”
Declan braided the fingers of his hands. “
William shrugged.
“When Casshorn died, his possessions passed to you. You’re his adopted son and his only heir. You own two castles, half of the Darkwood, a forty-mile stretch of Darron River, for the use of which you charge the shipping companies a sizable toll, and the land on which the city of Blueshire sits. They pay you rent. Why the devil would you need to borrow the money, you dumb bastard? You’re richer than I am.”
William’s brain screeched to a halt.
Declan got up. “While you had your two-year-long pity party and hid out in a shitty trailer, playing with your toys and drinking beer, I had to take care of your financials. And if you think I don’t have my own shit to deal with, you’re sadly mistaken.” He pulled several large ledgers from the shelf and dropped them in a stack on the table. “There you go. All yours now, Lord William Sandine. Have a go at it. Don’t spend it all in one place and hire somebody good with money to manage it for you.”
WILLIAM sat alone in the silence of Declan’s library. It had been twenty-four hours since he made the call to Erwin through Declan’s scryer unit. He’d outlined the details of the deal. Erwin said nothing. He simply bowed and severed the connection.
Declan insisted on both him and the kid staying in the manor, reasoning that if the Mirror didn’t like the deal, they would be more reluctant to rain hellfire and meteorites upon the house of the Marshal. He even deployed his most effective weapon, in case things went really sour—two hours after the scrying took place, the carriage of the Duchess of the Southern Provinces pulled up to the front gates. William had met the Duchess before. He would rather go up barehanded against a rabid bear.
The ache inside his chest gnawed on him. It started when he woke up and found out Cerise had left him. Over the next few days it grew stronger and stronger. She had left him. The rational part of him reassured him that she had done it to save him. But the rational part of him grew weaker and weaker. She had left him. Like so many people before. Even if everything went his way, even if he managed to pull it off, she could still walk away from him. And there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it.
He got up and stepped onto the balcony. The sun was slowly setting. They would serve dinner soon—he could smell it from the kitchen.
Voices came from below. William leaned over and looked down. Three kids, George’s blond head, Jack’s auburn mane, and Gaston’s closely cropped hair. He’d barely seen the kids since he arrived. By the time he and Declan had hammered out and delivered the terms of the deal, he was dead on his feet and he passed out for about twelve hours.
“So what are you?” Jack asked, aggression vibrating in his voice.
This ought to be interesting.
“Are you like William’s kid or something?” Jack asked.
“Leave it alone,” George said, his voice calm.
Gaston leaned back a bit. “Who’s asking?”
This wouldn’t go well
“What do you mean, who’s asking? I’m asking. Are you that stupid? What are you, some kind of inbred hick?”
“Here we go,” George muttered.
Gaston shrugged. “I tell you what, run along. I have no time for spoiled rich babies.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jack lunged forward. He was fast, but not faster than George, who stepped out of the way half a second before Jack struck. Gaston threw his hand up, and Jack ran face-first into his fist.
That had to hurt. William winced. Gaston had fists like hammers. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with them yet, but Jack wasn’t hard to stop. He all but threw himself.
Jack spun from the impact. A low feline growl tore from his mouth.
Okay, that was about enough of that. William hopped over the balcony and landed between them. The jump almost took him off his legs. He was still too weak, but the kids didn’t know it.
William looked the boys over. In two years George had grown taller and filled out. He’d never be bulky, but he was no longer thin and sickly. His pale hair was cut in the same manner as Declan’s when Declan kept it short. His clothes were meticulously clean.
Jack wore a ripped-up shirt. His nose was bleeding. His eyes shone every time he turned his head. The kid was strung up too high.
“What the hell are you doing?” William asked.
Jack wiped the blood from his nose. “Nothing.”
“Why the hell would you run at him? He outweighs you by sixty pounds.”
Jack looked away.
“He’s also taller than you by eight inches. First order of business—make him shorter.”
William dropped down and swiped with his leg, knocking Jack’s feet out from under him. The kid was fast, but he wasn’t paying attention. His legs went one way, his head went the other. He fell into the grass and bounced back up, hissing like a pissed-off cat.
“Your turn,” William said. “Go for it.”
Jack lunged at Gaston’s legs. Gaston tensed and jumped, catching the lower branch of an oak.
Jack rolled up. “What the hell?”
“Did you expect him to stand still for you?”
Gaston grinned.
“Go on,” William said. “Try to get to higher ground.”
Jack scrambled up the tree, trying to get a drop on the older kid. They squared off in the branches, kicking and talking shit.
William and George watched them.
“How have you been, George?”
“Good, thank you. I’m really glad you are back,” George said. “Will you stay?”
“I don’t know.”
George sighed and for a moment he looked just like the weak, pale kid William had met two years ago. “I wish you would stay,” the boy said. “It would be better for everyone. Especially Jack.”
THE dining room was huge, William reflected. His whole house would fit into it. It was also mostly empty. The Duchess had pulled Rose away to her rooms for some sort of female reason, and it was only Declan, him, and
