“How did you turn our enforcers?” she demanded. “How did you turn so many? Was it money? Blackmail? Talk, damn it!”
She’d been asking the same questions for the last few hours. No one answered. No one even acknowledged that she was making noise. Thessa stared at her knees, grappling with her own fury. Of the original thirty-six enforcers that had accompanied them, twelve had turned at Breenen’s signal. The surprise of their betrayal was more than enough for the brief battle they waged. At least twenty bodies from both sides littered the barricades outside, left where they lay. The rest of the loyal enforcers, most of them badly wounded, sat under guard just outside the lighthouse.
But Thessa’s fury wasn’t for Tirana’s dead friends. It was for her phoenix channel. It sat dormant just a few feet from her, still connected to the copper cables. Thunder seemed to pass on either side of them but there still hadn’t been a single lightning strike. Did it matter at this point? The phoenix channel was no longer hers. It belonged to these dragoons and their mercenary master.
And to him. Thessa felt her eyes narrow as Breenen entered the lighthouse. Let Tirana rail at the soldier. Thessa wanted to shove Breenen off the side of the Forge and laugh while he fell. The old concierge paused just inside, glancing at them briefly, before moving over beside Captain Hellonian.
“And you!” Tirana barked, turning her attention to Breenen. “How could you do this? You’ve betrayed your employees, your master, your friends. These people depended on you!”
While the tirade seemed to slide off Hellonian like rain off a turtle’s shell, Breenen flinched. “I warned you, Tirana. If you want to get out of this alive, you’ll shut your mouth.”
“You think I care about that? You think I trust anything you say? You’re a traitor and a…” One of the dragoons suddenly broke away from the fire and crossed the room, kicking Tirana hard in the stomach. She doubled over, gasping.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Breenen snapped at the dragoon.
“You didn’t do it,” the dragoon said casually.
“Keep your soldiers in line,” Breenen demanded of Captain Hellonian.
The captain just shrugged. “The sound was getting annoying.”
“Then let’s get out of this place,” Breenen said. “We have the phoenix channel, we have the siliceer. Let’s take them both. Leave the rest for Demir to find.”
“How will he find anything when he’s dead?” Hellonian scowled around the room, then searched his pockets. He drew out a pre-rolled cigarette and stuck it in the coals around the base of the fire before puffing it to life. “General Kerite engages him as we speak. She’ll turn his army to mincemeat. She can decide what to do with the rest of these tonight.” He gestured lazily at Pari and Tirana.
“I have a deal with your masters,” Breenen growled. “I hand the phoenix channel over to the Glass Knife, and in return the Grappo remain unmolested. Kerite is bound by the terms of the deal just like the rest of your damned organization.”
Hellonian raised his hands in a calming gesture. “I’m not privy to the details. If Kerite has promised to spare Demir, then she’ll spare him. I’ve already sent a messenger to tell her we’ve captured the mechanism.”
Thessa swallowed hard. What did a mercenary general want with her? Or the phoenix channel? And who was the Glass Knife they spoke of? “Shouldn’t you be out there helping her win the battle?” she asked.
Hellonian glanced down at her, flashing her what in other circumstances might have been a charming smile. “We were set aside specifically for this purpose,” he said. “The Purnian Dragon plans everything out perfectly. If she says she doesn’t need an extra hundred dragoons to win the battle, then she doesn’t.”
“And you think she can beat Demir?”
Hellonian rolled his eyes. “Of course she can. She’s faced greater odds against greater foes and always comes out on top. You, my silic friend, will have the pleasure of meeting her before the night is out.”
“Why?” Thessa demanded. “Why does she care about any of this?”
“Even Kerite reports to a greater master, and that master has not given me the specifics,” Hellonian replied. “I just follow my lady’s orders.” He turned his gaze back to Breenen. “The Glass Knife would like to know whether the phoenix channel actually works before we proceed. So we stay here until Kerite arrives, or until we conduct a test. Nothing else is needed, correct? We just wait for a lightning strike?” The question was directed at Thessa. She turned her face away from him. Why give him the satisfaction of cooperation? Why say anything at all? She wondered how long she could keep any amount of stubbornness. How long until she was just too tired of all this maneuvering and backstabbing?
As she looked across the room, her eyes fell on the phoenix channel. It was secured by nothing more than the copper cables – lightning rod and grounding cable. How hard would it be to unhook it, drag it outside, and throw it off the Forge? The thought began to percolate, and she turned back to Hellonian. “Give me a cigarette,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Is that the price of a little courteousness?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I gladly pay it.” He drew another cigarette from his pocket, lighting it on the first and then putting it between her lips.
Thessa drew in, tasting the tar on her tongue. She exhaled through her nose. “Yes,” she told him out of the corner of her mouth, “nothing else needs to be done to prepare the phoenix channel.”
“Do not,” Tirana said between clenched teeth, “tell him anything else.”
“Oh, come now. We’ve won, you’ve lost. It’s time to move on.” Hellonian grinned at all three of his prisoners. “The Glass Knife is not without mercy. I won’t pretend to know the minds of my betters, but I imagine that by the end of the week you’ll be working for them. It’s really the easiest way.” He then patted Thessa patronizingly on the head. “Enjoy that cigarette, Lady Siliceer.” Thessa resisted the urge to bite his hand.
The door to the lighthouse opened once more, a drenched dragoon wearing an overcoat sticking his head inside. “Captain! There’s a break in the clouds just now over to the southeast. If you bring your looking glass you’ll see the battle!”
“How does it look?”
“Impossible to say at this point.”
Hellonian flicked his cigarette into the fire. “Keep an eye on them,” he told the other two dragoons, then strode out after his underling. Thessa leaned back on her haunches, careful to keep her own cigarette clenched between her lips. The other two dragoons walked to the door and opened it, leaning against the doorframe as they made bets on how many casualties the nearby battle would produce. Breenen sat at the little window overlooking the ocean, staring into the distance.
Thessa caught Pari’s eye, jerking her head slightly at Tirana. Pari’s eyes narrowed. She elbowed the master-at-arms. Tirana’s head came up. Thessa looked at Pari, then at Tirana, then glanced significantly at the two dragoons. She hoped the message got across. “Breenen,” Thessa said, shifting around until she could get one foot underneath her.
“Save your breath,” Breenen said. “If you plan to rail like Tirana, you can do it later.”
Thessa hauled herself up, wobbled, almost lost her cigarette, then turned to face Breenen. “No,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. “You have so much to answer for.”
He finally glanced toward her. “Sit down, Thessa.”