CH299 · Rewrite
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Chapter 299: Information and Messenger

Since autumn had tightened its grip on King’s City, the inner gates closed earlier in the evening. The meeting time had moved with the light: now they gathered in the afternoon, in the garden room of a mansion that did not appear on any of Theo’s official records.

Hill Fawkes arrived first, as always. Blue velvet, collarless—the jacket of an aristocrat doing his best impression of himself without quite reaching it, which was precisely the right pitch for this part of the city. White tie. Gray leggings. He carried under his arm the copy of A Kingdom’s History of Social Custom that Theo had lent him, and returned it with a short, practiced bow.

Theo took it. “Done?”

“Yes.” Hill paused, then asked: “Will you teach me wrestling? Fencing? Assassination, perhaps?”

“Why?”

“You said, during the demonic sickness, that you were going to train me as a spy. Since then, you’ve given me nothing but books.”

“That,” Theo said, dropping two cubes of ice into his wine and listening to them crack, “is not a strange book. That book contains the origin of every noble house in Graycastle, their heraldry, their estate customs, and the produce of every region in the kingdom. A spy who can’t distinguish information worth carrying from information worth forgetting is just a well-traveled gossip.” He took a slow sip. “As for fencing and assassination—I never intended to send you into an organization to gather intelligence from the inside. That kind of work requires ten years minimum to do properly. With ten years, I can buy the same result in an afternoon.”

“You can’t buy everyone.”

“And the organizations that can’t be bought make terrible targets regardless.” Theo set the cup down. “Two things. That’s all a qualified spy needs: know what information is worth having, and keep yourself invisible. The books build the first. The second—” he glanced at Hill’s jacket, “—you demonstrate every time you walk through a door.”

Hill lowered his head and appeared to be working through this.

By then the others had arrived: Clown, Rocky Mountain, and the rest. Theo opened his notebook.

“Rocky Mountain. Start.”

The big man crossed his arms. “New arrivals in the Eastern camp. Two or three hundred of them, mostly from the Northern Territory. About a third are Blood Sail men.”

Theo’s expression did not change, but something behind it shifted. Timothy had lost more than half his Royal Knights at the Redwater River; the camp east of King’s City had become the staging ground for his conscript army—refugees, criminals, whatever he could scrape from the road and feed those pills. A month since the last group of a thousand marched west, and already he’d begun refilling. “More than two hundred come in at once, you report immediately.”

“Understood.”

One use. Theo didn’t say it. He had seen what those men became once the conditioning took hold, and he had stopped being surprised by it. Timothy would continue the push into the Western Territory now that Garcia had gone north and left the southern border quiet. That information needed to reach Border Town before the next force assembled.

Clown spread his hands with a showman’s flourish. “This humble one bears a morsel of uncertain vintage—gathered through the wondrous loosening power of wine. Unverified, but the merchants who shared it have reliable noses for money and credible faces.” He cleared his throat. “Garcia Wimbledon’s Black Sail Fleet has appeared in the Kingdom of Eternal Winter. She attacked Church positions there. The siege at Wolfsheart Kingdom has stalled.”

The Queen of Clearwater in the Eternal Winter. Theo considered it. It was unexpected, but its implications were simpler than they seemed: she had sailed north. Whatever her reason—opportunity, desperation, or something colder—she had effectively abandoned her claim in Graycastle. A throne fight conducted from the far north was no throne fight at all.

“Next.”

Hill coughed. “I’ve found something about the task you gave me. His Majesty has opened a new workshop inside the inner city—clay artisans hired in quantity, and he’s been routing large amounts of saltpeter to the location. The guards are heavy. My people couldn’t learn anything inside.”

Theo straightened almost imperceptibly. “You tracked the saltpeter to the workshop yourself?”

“One of the carts. Yes.”

He had been at Roland’s side long enough to know what saltpeter meant in quantity—what it meant being moved to a place with hired craftsmen and closed doors. The alchemy association’s involvement suggested they had moved past experimentation. Workshop scale meant production. Production meant they had the formula.

“Well done,” Theo said. He meant it.


The meeting dissolved in small clusters, the members leaving the mansion at intervals of several minutes. Hill paused at the door.

“Sir. Will all of this actually bring him down?”

“Timothy’s throne is already shaking,” Theo said. “You’ve seen the letters.”


Late that evening, returning to the Covert Trumpeter tavern, Theo found someone waiting in his room.

Sean. The 4th Prince’s personal guard, the same as himself—though Sean moved through the world with the particular ease of a man who had never needed to hide what he was.

They exchanged a few words, the ordinary kind, while Theo closed the curtains.

“How did you find me?”

“His Highness gave me a letter, and told me to start with Lady Margaret. She knew where you were staying.” Sean held up a small object: a gem, deep red, the color of good wine held to the light. He waved it in a loose arc.

“A new task?”

“Not a task.” Sean went to the window and eased it open a finger’s width, then put two fingers to his lips. The whistle was short and specific.

Three birds came through the opening and settled on the table—beige-colored, compact, with the composed stillness of creatures that knew their purpose. They called out once, together, a small sound, and then stood waiting.

Sean fed each of them a pinch of wheat. “Witch-trained messengers,” he said, stroking the throat of the nearest. “Unlike carrier pigeons, they travel independently—back and forth between two fixed points without needing a person to carry them home. You tell them a keyword, and they carry the message directly to His Highness. Reply in a day, if all goes well.”

Theo looked at the three small birds on his table, their round eyes catching the lamplight. After a while he reached out and laid one finger along the back of the nearest, feeling the quick, steady beat of its heart.

A day. He thought of the Eastern camp, and the men being fed inside it, and what the spring would bring.

A day was faster than any courier.

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