Havenfall (Havenfall #1)(36)

There’s no universal currency between the Adjacent Realms, so everything is done by a barter system. This year, it seems like the blue snowflake gems are in, because that’s what Saber has his eye on. They haggle and negotiate and decide in the end that three cases of the gems will be transported to Fiordenkill over the course of the coming year, in exchange for seven cases of a rough, warm-looking purple fur, one case of a slinky black fur with gold spots, and two cases of a rich, lustrous red.

But just when I start to think I might get through this meeting without making an idiot of myself, Mima carefully closes her briefcase and turns to me.

“Who is running the transport channels, now that Frederick has retired?” She speaks precisely, each word delivered carefully to minimize her Byrn accent. “Who can we speak to in order to arrange this?”

My mouth goes dry. I remember Frederick, a stately old rancher from town who was in on the Havenfall secret, who helped Marcus man the transport of goods between the doorways all year round. I remember a conversation with him at the bar last year, where he told me he was retiring and moving to Florida. He must have told me the name of his replacement. It’s on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t remember. My cheeks burn as the silence stretches.

My phone vibrates silently in my hands. I look down out of habit and see a text from Graylin. LEE REISS.

“Lee Reiss,” I say automatically. Then a memory clicks—Frederick’s assistant at the ranch, a clever younger woman who always seemed to know a bit too much when she came by the inn to pick up packages in her beat-up minivan.

“Oh, of course,” Graylin murmurs, as though he’s just remembered Lee too. When the delegates aren’t looking, he drops me a wink, and I smile weakly.

“If you want to write a letter to arrange a shipment, my lady, I’ll be sure it reaches her. What’s your room number?”

Mima sighs in poorly hidden exasperation. “Three forty-nine.”

I stab the number into my phone and try to decide which element of today’s particular cocktail of emotions is the least bad. Fear or shame or grief or betrayal. I force myself not to apologize again as we all stand up and I shake Mima’s and Saber’s hands.

The mountains look like a painting on all sides and the sky is as blue as Mima’s gems. I wish I could soak up all this serenity and let it drown the anxiety gnawing at my heart.

This—being in the room where deals and business and politics are happening, shaking hands and having the delegates learn my name—is what I wanted. And I need to step up, or I’ll let down not only myself, not only Marcus, but every single soul here, human and otherwise. Graylin and Willow, the Silver Prince and the Heiress, Jayden and Taya and everyone else. Shit, the whole planet, if I’m being honest with myself.

I have to push through. I have to be better.

Even if it feels like the magic has turned to poison.





9

I avoid the dining hall when lunch rolls around, a time that always puts a pit in my stomach. Not like I’m not used to it from every single day in school, taking my lunch and eating alone in the library or outside, my back to the school’s brick wall, looking out over the parking lot. But this isn’t supposed to be my life at Havenfall. This is supposed to be the place where I belong, I’m welcome, I’m my true self.

And yet I can’t face the delegates, their questioning gazes and whispers too low for me to hear. I want to not worry about anything for half an hour. If Brekken were here, he’d sneak out with me and we could take a walk through the woods or lounge by the side of Mirror Lake. But he’s not here. Maybe I can help Willow with something mundane or play a game of table tennis with Taya.

But they’re both occupied when I duck into the staff common room. Loud and crowded as it is, Taya is in one corner, her face mutinous. I can’t see Willow’s face; her back is to me, but there’s tension in her bunched-up shoulders. I drift over, acting like I’m just out for a sandwich and chips from the lunch spread set up along one wall, but straining my ears to listen.

“I was very clear that everything below the first floor is off-limits,” Willow is saying coolly. Her voice low, but not low enough. I blink, my hand freezing for a beat too long as I go to pick up a PB&J. Below the first floor? The only thing below the first floor is the tunnels.

“I’m sorry.” Taya’s cheeks are a hectic pink, her posture tense with her hands stiff at her sides. “I honestly just forgot.”

I’m torn between feeling bad for her and being concerned that she was in the tunnels. I’m sure Willow did tell her to stay on the first floor and above, but I saw Taya in the gardens last night too, so it seems more likely she was just wandering than that she was up to anything nefarious. And Willow can go right to DEFCON 4 when she wants to. But I know her fear—the fear we’re all feeling—is probably making it worse. I decide to intervene, taking my paper plate and edging awkwardly into their space.

“Um, sorry to interrupt.” I look between them. “Willow, I promised Lady Mima and Saber Cancarnette I’d help them arrange a shipment with Lee. Do you remember her address?”

Willow blinks, her eyes flickering from Taya to me. Her anger ebbs away. “Of course,” she says, then glances back at Taya. “I don’t want to hear about you being where you shouldn’t be again, do you hear me?”