Midnight Jewel (The Glittering Court #2)(116)

“We need these,” he said, tapping the blanks. “That schedule could change everything. And I’d like to know where that green mountain is.”

Aiana leaned closer. “I think we got entwa wrong. It’s entwa. Bend, not mountain.” As usual, the two Balanquan pronunciations sounded identical to my ear.

Grant scrutinized the words and nodded. “You’re right. It’s a city. Green Bend.”

“Up in Alma,” said Silas. “We’ve had our eye on someone there for a while, and he may be the one inventorying all the supplies as they come in. I’ve got a man there right now I can get to check on it.”

I was studying the line about the schedule that both Silas and Grant found so critical. 34 is creating final schedule and will send out with _____ seekers on healing night.

The words Aiana and Grant had brainstormed to the corresponding Lorandian sounds were written by the blank: disbelief, serpent, hazy, and wet. I went through them as I had before, placing them in context.

“What’s the Balanquan word for ‘heretic’?” I asked.

“There isn’t one,” said Grant.

“We don’t even have the concept,” added Aiana. “No one should dictate another person’s worship.”

“Then, for this code, they’d have to substitute something—like the way they use ‘bay land’ for Denham.” My certainty grew. “Could ‘disbelief seekers’ be a way to say ‘heretic patrol’ then? Heretic hunters? You said you ride all over.”

“Yes,” said Grant. I could almost see his thoughts spinning faster and faster as he stared at the words. “And we sometimes deliver messages. There were a few people the patrol checked in with regularly when we made our rounds—people I suspected were more than citizens concerned with corrupt religions. If I had anything else to go on, where this person was, when the patrol will be there . . .”

“Assuming they haven’t already come and gone,” muttered Silas. “You better pray all your work wasn’t wasted.”

“Pray.” I tried to remember the date. My days were running together lately. “Tomorrow night. It’s Ramiel’s Day. That’s the healing night they’re talking about.”

Grant frowned. “I thought Ramiel was the angel of peace and mercy.”

“Healing’s rolled into that. She’s the patron of doctors too.” Silas swung around so he could meet Grant face to face. “Tell me you know where the patrol’s going to be then. Tell me.”

“Bakerston.” Grant clenched and unclenched one of his fists, as though he was already grasping the case’s conclusion. “I’m not on duty, but I know who the patrol’s contact is up there. I know who thirty-four has to be.”

Silas let out a grateful sigh having a burden lifted and then immediately straightened up. “Then you’d better make damn sure you see that message before they carry it off.”

“I’ll go now,” said Grant.

“Morning,” corrected Silas. “Get a few hours of sleep. I want you sharp. You’ll need to search his house for anything else. Might be better to wait until after you copy that mystery schedule. Lay low until everyone’s asleep.”

“I know, I know. I can handle this.”

“Don’t get overconfident. You may be younger and a little faster, but I’ve done this longer. Be smart. Don’t be impulsive. If you lose your cover, you lose the rest.”

“I know.” Grant speculatively ran his fingertips over the letter. “Warren Doyle started the patrols. If they’re being used as couriers for the conspiracy, it seems like there’s a good chance he might be part of it. And the letter mentions Hadisen.”

Silas’s face twisted into a scowl. “I thought about that. Hadisen turns out a lot of gold, too. Sir Ronald was certain their big financer was a Lorandian noble, but we’re going to have to look into Doyle now.”

Warren Doyle, a conspirator. It certainly fit with the villainous image of him I was building.

“Don’t go the usual way to Bakerston,” Silas added, rummaging through his papers. “You can’t risk crossing paths with the patrol if they head up early. This road here . . .”

He took out a map, and Aiana tugged at my arm. “Now I’m taking her home. She’s proved her worth. She deserves some sleep.”

Silas lifted his head from the map and fixed me with a piercing look. “You’ve more than proved your worth, Miss Viana. And you’ve also proven—again—that I was a fool for wanting to get rid of you.”

“Uh, thank you.” Compliments from Silas threw me off almost as much as Grant’s.

Aiana was already at the door. “Good luck, Iyitsi.”

I followed reluctantly, needing to say more to Grant but knowing I couldn’t. And even if others hadn’t been around, he wouldn’t have given me an emotional, heartfelt farewell anyway. It wasn’t his way.

Aiana walked outside, but I stopped in the doorway to look back at Grant. Despite his and Silas’s brusque attitudes, I knew how dangerous this was. Grant was penetrating the heart of the conspiracy. “Be careful,” I told him. “I—we want you to come back.”

Silas snorted and stalked off into his bedroom, apparently searching for something. “Don’t worry. I’ll still make sure you get your reward even if he doesn’t.”