CH671 · Rewrite
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Chapter 671: A Turbulent Situation

Yorko suffered in silence.

Hell — didn’t they agree never to meet again? “Please feel free to contact the ambassador should you encounter any difficulties” is a courtesy, not an invitation.

He exchanged a look with Otto. After a long hesitation, he said, “Send her in.”

Had the real buyer not been present, Yorko would have invented some excuse — the ambassador is indisposed, please call again later — and bolted the door. But Otto was here, which meant the door stayed open.

No. 76 led the girl into the room. As Yorko had feared, it was the tenth item from the “Black Money” auction: Amy.

The witch seized his arm the moment she crossed the threshold. “Sir, please help us. Annie and the others are in danger!”

“Danger?” The word landed like a cold stone. “Slow down. Sit first.” He guided her to a chair and kept his hand steady on her shoulder. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

“We’ve — we’ve been found!” The words came in broken bursts, each one harder to pull free than the last. “A large patrol surrounded the orphanage. They’ve blocked every road nearby. I saw more than one platoon of knights — they’re searching block by block. The others are still trapped inside. Please, please help them!”

“Are there other witches besides you and Annie?”

“Yes — Hero and Broken Sword. Hero has no legs, so Annie carries her.”

Yorko drew a slow breath. One witch had seemed problem enough. Four. “How did you escape?”

“Our food was running low, so I went out for groceries. By the time I came back…” Her voice frayed at its edges. “By the time I came back, they were everywhere.” She pressed a fist to her mouth, fighting back the sob.

He was in an impossible position. Ambassador of Graycastle was a title with no executive weight behind it — he could not order the patrol to stand down, could not countermand a king’s operation. And the operation was Appen Moya’s, the very king he had vexed that morning at court. If Yorko stepped forward to shield these witches now, expulsion from the palace would be the least of his penalties.

“Don’t worry.” No. 76 settled beside Amy and drew slow, gentle circles across the girl’s back. “Sir Yorko will know how to bring them all back safely.”

Not at all, Yorko thought, with a ferocity he kept well off his face. If Amy had simply accepted Roland’s protection when he’d suggested it, none of this would be happening.

“What about Mr. Hill?” Otto asked.

“I never know where he is. He doesn’t report to me.” Yorko frowned. “If you want him, try after dinner.”

“Then I’ll start with Earl Quinn.” Otto’s expression was complicated — past and present compressed into a single look. “He’s the king’s prime minister and commands the patrol teams. Perhaps he can arrange something.” He paused. “Do you remember the witch I mentioned — the one I called a friend? Her name is Andrea Quinn. She’s the earl’s daughter.”


Time moved through the room like water through sand.

No. 76 worked quietly on Amy, and the girl’s ragged breathing gradually eased; somewhere in that slow interval she tipped sideways in the recliner and slept. Yorko stood at the window and watched the light change. The long journey had hollowed Amy out — that much was obvious. Still, he thought, falling asleep in a place like this required a particular kind of trust.

Hill Fawkes returned to the ambassador’s mansion at dusk.

“Where did you—” Yorko stopped mid-sentence.

Three people had followed Hill into the room. Two and a half, really.

The tallest stood half a head above Hill, her face streaked with dried blood, her eyes wide-open and watchful. Annie — the same woman who had spirited Amy out of the auction. She was carrying someone on her back: a purple-haired girl lashed to her with two straps, one crossing the waist and one the shoulders, the arrangement functional and without ceremony. From the way the girl’s trouser legs hung empty below the knee, Yorko understood. Hero.

The third figure was barely taller than No. 76 — silver hair cut to the shoulder, frame gaunt, one hand pressed to her side as though bracing a wound. Broken Sword.

Amy jerked awake at the sound of footsteps. For one bewildered second she blinked, and then she was across the room, pressing herself against Annie. “You escaped — thank God! Did the knights hurt you?”

“I’m fine. But Broken Sword — she spent a great deal of her power.”

“I was so worried…”

“Annie’s here,” Hero said quietly from her perch on Annie’s back. “Nothing to fret about now.”

Yorko stared. “How did you find them?”

“It’s a long story.” Hill caught him by the wrist and pulled him into the bedroom, lowering his voice. “Listen — all of you must leave Glow before the city gates close. Five wagons are ready. The first two carry wheat and fruit. You and the witches take the other three—”

“Wait.” Yorko stopped him. “You said you and the witches.”

“You and the witches,” Hill corrected, pressing each word flat. “Not including me. Someone has to maintain contact with the Kingdom of Dawn so His Majesty’s plans aren’t compromised.”

“But I am the ambassador.”

“Which is precisely why you need to leave.” Even in a crisis, Hill’s composure held — a steady flame behind glass. “Understand something: I did not save those three witches.”

“What?” Yorko blinked. “You didn’t?”

“My birds circle Tourney Square. When I can’t find a target, I watch my rivals find it instead. I learned the knights had moved out the moment they did. But by the time I reached the block, it was already sealed.” He paused. “The only people who know those streets well enough to move inside a siege are the Black Street Rats.”

“You bribed the Rats.”

“I’ve been cultivating them since I arrived in Dawn. It costs money, but money is what crises are made of.” Hill’s voice dropped further. “Still — by the time the Rats traced the witches for me, they had already fled on their own.”

“Then it’s simple. I’ll have Denise move them out quietly. We pretend nothing happened—”

Hill shook his head. “It isn’t that simple. The King of Dawn knew exactly where those witches were hiding. He had sufficient men to turn that block inside out. Yet they escaped. There is only one explanation: he let them go. Either Appen wants to flush out other hidden witches — or he wants to identify whoever is shielding them.”

Yorko’s throat tightened.

“If that’s the case, every hour you remain in Glow increases your risk.” Hill held his gaze. “If you can bring four witches to His Majesty, the value of that far exceeds anything you might accomplish as an ambassador.”

“And you?” Yorko asked, after a pause. “If they catch you—”

“They can arrest a man with a name and a face.” Hill allowed himself a small smile. “Not a nameless man who lives in the dark. To them, I don’t exist.” He spread his hands. “No one will notice that one guard from the delegation has gone missing, and Lord Otto will cover for me. Remember what I told you — I’m simply an acrobat. The next time you and His Majesty visit the city of Glow, you’ll probably find a brand-new troupe performing in the square.”

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