Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(7)
I avoid his steady gaze, wondering what I should tell him. Adox wants to keep my news from general knowledge or he wouldn’t have asked Isha to leave. Hamish is a friend. But one who will spend more time with Adox than with me.
“Adox doesn’t want me to say, and I have to respect that. I’m in his territory,” I decide. Hamish’s breath hisses at my response. I wince at his hurt expression.
“I see.” He stands. I reach out and grab his arm.
“No, you don’t see,” I say. “And I don’t want to keep this from you. But please just accept that I can’t tell you for good reason.”
“You never can tell me much, can you?” he asks. “You can’t tell me why you came here in the first place, why you were in the pits, why you suddenly left, and why you’re back. I’m beginning to wonder if I know you at all.”
His words are too near my own thoughts to deny.
Chapter Three
I watch in a trance as light forces its way between the overlapping tent coverings. Sleep last night wasn’t elusive—it was impossible. My thoughts wander, and as I lay on the thin mattress, I wonder what punishment Jimmy’s mother has concocted for him. Maybe she, Hamish and Adox will find some solace in discussing how much they dislike me once I’ve returned to Glacium.
Then there’s the arrow…
Just before I leapt from the rooftop, Jovan had shared his theories about Kedrick’s assassin possibly originating from the Ire. Something clicked into place when he spoke the words. Had I always known deep down my search of Glacium for the prince’s murderer was hopeless? With nothing else left of Kedrick, I’d held on to finding the assassin with everything I had. After my lead of the Seedyr wood arrow took me to a dead end, there was no other option than to put the matter aside and hope another clue was yet to be discovered. That clue had been the Ire. I’d lived there for weeks, but never made the connection that the easiest place for an assassin to disappear would be to an unknown community on the Oscala. But Jovan had. At the same time he reminded me of my duty to Osolis and made me swear I would place prevention of the war as my highest priority. He didn’t need to remind me, the fury that has blinded me for a long time is gone. I think. And true to my promise, I’ve forced my intentions to find Kedrick’s killer to the side, while the army still marches. Once I would have felt guilty about this, like I’d failed my dear friend, but I’d learned vengeance could be served hot or cold, and mine was fourth sector freezing after so long. If the person is from the Ire, they probably feel secure here. They’ll still be here when my duty is done. And then I’ll collect.
Fear has kept me awake overnight. I estimate I’ve slept for about three hours. The rest of the time I’ve been coming to terms with what I must do. The thought of making my next move shocks me. It’s something I would never have considered a year ago. I know that if I take this path now, there’s no turning back, and I can’t begin to predict what will happen as a result.
Adox is expecting me to go. He’s likely feeling relief at his avoidance of discovery, but he’s only burying his head in the snow. His plan is to continue doing what the Ire has always done, though the situation has changed. He’s afraid. But he’s made a conditional agreement, despite the fact that he believes the terms are impossible to carry out. The surprise I’m about to deliver should persuade him otherwise.
Adox is awake when I soar to his rock. I’m sure the troubles I’ve brought to his door are responsible for his sleepless nights. His face hardens when he sees me. The first time he saw me, he was curious. The second time he was reasonable. Now I’m trying his patience. His island is full of quietly shuffling Ire folk going about their chores or waiting to speak with their leader. They make way for me. I could misinterpret their actions as respect or fear, but just like any other people, they’re hoping I can provide them with the day’s gossip. The older man is sitting down on the cushion where we once exchanged stories about the Ire’s history and joked about who would tell Hamish my flying lessons were over. It feels like long ago. Time is deceptive that way.
“You said if I had some way of guaranteeing the Ire’s safety you’d reconsider your decision,” I say without preamble.
My words have the desired effect. Within seconds my forearm is encased in Adox’s wiry grip. His eyes caution me to be silent.
“Perhaps there’s somewhere private we can discuss this,” I offer. He sighs and looks at the keen eyes and ears around us. He signals and a man steps forward to help him up. I walk beside Adox, following his lead as he straps himself into a magnificent Soar. I’m under no illusions. He’s humoring me. I rush through putting on my Soar and trail him to a circular island I’ve yet to explore. A large tent is erected in the middle of it. It’s far removed from any of the inhabited islands. Perfect for the conversation we’re about to have.
He lands and I touch down close by.
“We will not be disturbed on the Meeting Island,” he says, placing his Soar against a cliff face.
We enter the huge tent. Cushions are set around the inside wall. A large chair sits opposite the entrance. The ceiling is high, the tent spacious. I wouldn’t be surprised if over fifty people could squeeze in.
Adox wastes no times with pleasantries.
“I was perfectly clear last night,” he snaps. He lowers himself into the largest chair. “You test my patience.”