Jesper grunted and shifted Wolfe up on his shoulder. I kept close to him as possible as we walked through the room, Jesper calling greetings to gang members who smirked and leered at me. I felt a tug on my skirts and turned to see a young, haggard looking woman clutching at me. She sat sprawled over an old chair and I stumbled back under her regard as she licked her lips at me. “Jesper, asks Boss if I can have this one.” She grinned up at the man before turning that wicked smile on me. I blushed in understanding which made her laugh throatily. Jesper clamped his hand down on my arm.
“She’s for Boss, Nalia. Don’t get any ideas.”
Nalia’s lips twisted into a pout. “But I wants her. She’s pretty, like silk. You knows how I likes silk, Jesper.”
I shivered and hurried away as Jesper grunted and pushed me forward. We were silent as we made our way through steel grey hallways, until Jesper came to a stop and thrust his foot against a door, shoving it open. My eyes widened even further when we entered what could pass for a normal room in this hovel. A brass framed bed sat in the corner covered with colourful quilts and cushions. A fireplace that was obviously used had a tin bathtub in front of it, a cosy armchair off to the side, little knick-knacks here and there on the mantelpiece. Other pieces of well-made furniture scattered the room, men’s clothing haphazardly draped here and there. And it was clean. Surprisingly so.
“Boss’ room,” Jesper grunted and then dropped Wolfe on the stone floor as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. I cried out and rushed for Wolfe just as his eyes began to open. “Shit!” Jesper sighed and reached across the bed for something. In the next moments, I watched helplessly as he tied Wolfe - who was coming around far too slowly for my liking - up against the heavy brass bed.
“You next.” Jesper strode towards me and I tried to kick out at him again. He dodged and clucked his tongue at me. “Not that again, you little bitch.”
He lunged at me, trying to wrench my arms behind my back but I shrieked and punched and pummelled at him, vaguely aware of Wolfe now shouting and struggling from his prison on the floor. Then Jesper’s huge hand came towards my face and cracked it back with an almighty blow. I felt like I’d run into a brick wall. My legs gave way and I was barely aware of Jesper tying my hands behind my back and throwing me onto the bed. Water streamed out of my right eye and I hesitantly lifted my cheek, wincing at the throbbing pain.
“Stay here, and behave!” Jesper cried. “Boss will be in soon.”
I struggled into a sitting position as the man slammed out of the door, a key turning in the lock.
Feeling his eyes on me, I looked down at Wolfe whose eyes blazed back at me.
“Are you alright?” He asked hoarsely, his gaze on my cheek, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might shatter.
I huffed and shimmied toward him, trying to get a look at the cut on his head. “Am I alright? Wolfe, they knocked you unconscious.” I hissed at his wound. “We need to get that cleaned up. Are you feeling well?”
He winced now, stretching his legs out before him and pulling at the ropes. It was futile. He slumped wearily. “I feel a little dizzy.”
“You were out a while.”
“Noted. Where are we?” He glanced around the room.
I sighed. “We’re in an abandoned glass works. We’ve been taken by what I assume is a rookery gang.”
Wolfe cursed and then whipped around, vengeance burning in his blue gaze. “Did any of them touch you?”
I grinned, thinking about Little Sin. “I knocked out the one who tried.”
Wolfe quirked an eyebrow. “Knocked out?”
I quickly told him how I had incapacitated Jesper and then launched the mallet at Little Sin. Wolfe shook his head in amazement. “Perhaps I should let the men train you,” he murmured.
Surprised, I smirked back at him. “I told you so.”
He rolled his eyes. “Can you never take anything graciously?”
I snorted. “Not from you.”
Wolfe shook his head, hearing the teasing in my voice. He tugged at the ropes again. “We need to get out of here, Rogan.”
Ignoring the shiver that rushed down my spine every time he said my name, I stumbled inelegantly onto the floor, trying to manoeuvre myself in front of him.
“What are you doing?” I could hear the amusement in his voice.
“I thought you could use your teeth to get the ropes off my wrists,” I explained over my shoulder, thrusting my arms backwards at him.
“Rogan, please tell me your kidding. Have you seen how thick this rope is?”
“Well how else are we-”
I hushed at the sound of a key turning in the lock, and barely registered as Wolfe brought a leg up, pulling me back in towards him so I was sitting between his legs with a sense of being shielded. I felt his indrawn breath on the back of my neck, the tension from his body crackling against the tension in mine.
We waited, hearts racing, and the door swung open. At first I couldn’t make out anything except a tall, strong figure of a man. And then he strode inside, slowly, leisurely… and I let go a yelp of surprise.
I recognised those green eyes and jet black hair, that defiant smirk. They were just all now in a taller, older man with a harder face that was no less handsome than it had been as a young boy.
“Kir!” I gasped.
The smirk on his face fell as he came to a halt, his eyes drinking me and Wolfe in. “Rogan? Wolfe?”
“Kir!” I laughed a little hysterically, relief flooding through me.
“Holy mother of-” he dropped to his knees and grasped my shoulders, his strange eyes wide on mine. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Well it is,” Wolfe grunted from behind me. “Fancy untying us?”
Stunned, he sank back onto his heels, taking a moment. It was then realisation struck.
“Your Boss?” I asked softly, trying to keep the condemnation out of my question.
Kir must have heard the accusation anyway, for he flinched and looked away. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m Boss.”
Wolfe struggled to be seen from behind me, so I moved out of the way, letting him peer around my shoulder, trying not to inhale that wonderful woody spice that was all Wolfe. “So, any intention of letting us go then?”
Kir turned to Wolfe and they shared a long look. “I can’t believe it’s you. How are you?”
I was surprised by how congenial the two were, considering Wolfe’s father was Syracen and the fact that Kir had had to live with the bastard for a year. There seemed to be so much more in Kir’s question than I understood.
Wolfe nodded slowly. “I’m alright, Kir. Except for being kidnapped that is.”
Seeming to shake himself, Kir nodded, a flush of embarrassment cresting his cheeks. He gestured at me. “Turn, Rogan. Let me get those off of you.”
I shimmied out from Wolfe’s embrace and managed to twist, holding my hands out behind me.
“I’m going to use a blade, so keep still.”
As soon as I was loose, Kir moved around me and freed Wolfe. He eyed the top of Wolfe’s head and frowned. “I told them not to do any damage. Mind you,” his gaze flickered over Wolfe as he slapped him on the back, “Considering how big you’ve gotten, they probably had no choice.”
Wolfe grunted and stumbled to his feet, rubbing his wrists. “Not that it isn’t good to see you, Kir… why the hell did you have us kidnapped?”
Feeling lost in this reunion, I too slowly rose to my feet, watching the two men as they faced off with another. There was no tension or animosity between them. In fact they both appeared happy to see each other in one piece. I was growing steadily more confused every second.
Kir shrugged, looking between us both. “I didn’t know it was you. I got word that a fancy gent and lady were here and I knew the Markiz would be interested.”
I gaped, feeling disorientated and lost. “The Markiz?”
Kir nodded grimly. “Things have been changing in Vasterya for a while now, Rogan.”
Wolfe growled, “Changing how?”
Gesturing to the bed, Kir slumped down into the armchair. As I took a seat beside Wolfe on the bed I realised how much older Kir looked than Wolfe, despite them being of the same age. It was almost as if Kir had seen too much; whatever he had gone through had made a physical impression on him.
“Who do you think set the rookery up, Wolfe?” Kir exhaled slowly, seeming pained to be having to explain this.
I was still completely lost but Wolfe drew in a breath, “Markiz Solom.”
“What?!” I squeaked, any colour in my cheeks surely having completely leached out now. What on haven were they talking about? Why would the Markiz create the rookery?
“The Markiz cottoned on to the fact that the Princezna’s powers were beginning to weaken in Vasterya. Suddenly all these plans and feelings he had buried inside himself were bursting forth, being allowed free reign. With no word from Silvera that there was anything wrong with the Princezna, tipping him off that there was some kind of cover up going on, the Markiz began making plans.”
“What kind of plans?” Wolfe asked softly, and I knew that menacing quiet did not bode well.
Kir shrugged again. “I was working for him, he found a Glava useful and he paid me well. When things began to change he put his plan to take the sovereignty over into action.”
My stomach plummeted and I felt like I had been kicked in the ribs. “Take the sovereignty over?! Is he insane?!”
“Yes.” Kir nodded. “Quite possibly. He’s started training an army. He paid me to start the rookery up, hoping that a gangland at the border would put off visitors who may take tales back to Silvera. So far it’s worked.”
Wolfe was frowning. “I sent men in only a few weeks ago. There was no mention of an army.”
“No there wouldn’t have been. The army is trained out in the west near the sand dunes. And the people of Pharya are almost religious in their belief in the Markiz and would never betray him. Without the Dyzvati power these people are easily brainwashed, especially with food and money.” He snorted and gestured around him. “Even I’ve been brought low by it.”
I narrowed my eyes on him, suddenly understanding his role in this. “You would have let him do this? Bring an army into Silvera? Betray Haydyn?”
My old friend remained expressionless as he replied in a flat voice, “I suspected Haydyn was unwell and that it was being dealt with. I expected this madness to be over soon and for me to return to working for the Markiz who would remain a Markiz, not a Kral.”
Remembering the boy who had fought so savagely against Syracen when he hurt me, who had taken a lashing unlike anything I had ever seen, I wanted to believe him, but there was a hollow darkness in Kir’s eyes that hadn’t been there those many years ago.
Wolfe cleared his throat, breaking the strained look Kir and I shared. “So what were you planning on doing with us?”
“Making sure you weren’t spies. I thought the Markiz would pay good money for you. And he certainly would pay good money to get his hands on the Captain of the Royal Guard and the Handmaiden of Phaedra.” Kir shook his head, grinning wryly, not seeming to believe we were here. “But he won’t find out about you. I would never let any harm come to either of you.”