Mask of Shadows (Untitled #1)(40)

I leapt out of the tree and followed the messenger, peeking under his arm at the hidden side of the letter.

Definitely addressed to Lord Horatio del Seve. His seal was even stamped at the end of his name—a double-toothed kite spreading its wings after a storm, ready to strike again.

He’d positioned it so it loomed over Our Queen’s seal.

The messenger stopped at a two-story building, roof garden dripping with every flower native to Erlend, and bowed to the guard at the door. Thin paper window shades dyed the soft green of pines lined the upper floors. I slowed to listen.

The guard, a broad-shouldered man with a spear in his hands and a sword on his belt—overarmed for show—grinned at the messenger. “I’ll leave it with his attendant.”

I journeyed till there were no guards in sight and ducked back into the trees. If he wasn’t there, I was safe to snoop around his things and find the best way inside. The only door was guarded, but the windows were large and could be opened, and that garden had to have a door. I climbed an oak rising higher than the roof.

A little courtyard with a pond fed by rainwater barrels occupied one side of the roof, and a small dining area underneath a thick awning took up the other side. Furs and stained glass lanterns nicer than any I’d ever seen surrounded the table. I could picture Seve eating dinner wrapped in furs he’d bought—not hunted—under colorful lights more expensive than most people’s breakfast. He’d cleaned out the salvageable goods from the war and sold them to Shan de Pau. People weren’t treated as well as what he could sell.

The very idea of him made me sick.

I mapped out Seve’s rooms as best I could from the tree branch. A servant’s shaky silhouette flitted behind the window screens—back and forth from one side of the building to the next. I memorized the guards’ predictable movements.

Timing my jump, I landed on Seve’s roof with a soft thud. I stilled—no footsteps or shouts, no opening door or nosy servants. I crept around the little nook, fingers drifting over deer hides and decorative elk antlers that hung with candles. The table was set for tea.

A nightly ritual right before bed if the soft scent of valerian oil was anything to go by.

I moved Seve’s bird-covered teacup aside and bowed over the table, taking a deep breath.

My fingers slid over worked wood. An intricately carved puzzle box rested beneath my hands. I tapped one of the hinges and a piece slid down to reveal a lock. Not a puzzle box but a container made to look like one, made to make you look smarter. I picked the lock.

The papers inside were nonsense—all bookkeeping and management and words I didn’t know because I’d no need for them yet. “Nacea” wasn’t anywhere on the list—just fallow land and beasts of burden getting restless. I set the papers aside.

A small note fluttered to the floor.

“Wait for Winter to move and the Storm will pass.”

The writing was as controlled as Elise’s, but the ends were sharper and jagged. I tucked it back into the box.

Whatever it meant, it couldn’t have been good. The plainness and small size of the paper—just tiny enough to be slipped from palm to palm without being seen—screamed secret correspondence. Seve was still snooping even if the war was over.

Erlend’s last holdouts led by Lord del Weylin were tucked away in the impassable mountains, plotting their revenge against Our Queen as sure as I was plotting mine against them. A treacherous crown of ice and fog twisted around the peaks and protected them from Igna’s armies. No one from Weylin’s lands ever journeyed here.

If not for the occasional threat and raid, we’d have thought them all frozen and dead.

I threw up my hands to stretch and smacked one of the silver lanterns. The filigree caught the light.

Nacean silver.

Nacean silver cuffs he’d no business having.

I tore them from the wire, pried apart the glue holding them together, and stuffed them into my pockets. I’d nothing left of Nacea, and he’d all the things no Erlend should’ve had.

Mother had worn silver cuffs when she’d married Father and again when the three of us were born. She never stopped talking about feeling good memories in the silver, remembering the weight of the cuffs on her wrists. They were for special occasions.

I’d make him remember us, make us more than stolen relics and open graves.

I paced the roof. The sides dripped in expensive gold paint and landscaped ivy. There were no trellises for me to climb and no windows for me to sneak in through. A tumbler lock protected the only door leading inside.

I hung from the back edge of the roof by my fingertips. When I dropped and my feet hit the ground, I bounced up and rolled. The shock rattled my knees, but nothing hurt too badly. The small grove of trees behind me didn’t erupt in shouts from guards.

Amethyst would’ve been proud.

I raced back to my room, rage spurring me on, and slammed the door shut behind me. Of course Seve was here. I knew he was here, living well, no harm for what he’d done, but seeing it was a whole different world. And that lace!

Of course he’d kept the nicest things. Of course he’d hoarded the last pieces of Nacea.

But why was he still here? Why hadn’t Our Queen done anything about him? Wasn’t like he was hiding it with Nacean treasures hanging throughout his home away from home. How many more lived with him year-round up north? I collapsed onto my bed.