“You’re telling me the truth?” dal Ruisseau Noir said, then answered before Gill could. “Yes, I think you are. Why hasn’t he used it, though? Why is he delaying? If it can give him that much power, all the problems he faces now will be like chaff on the wind.”
“We’re not sure,” Solène said, “but probably because this is a one-time opportunity for him. If he gets something wrong, there won’t be another chance. I’m sure he’s tempted, but he’s being prudent. We have no idea when he’ll take that step, though. It could be tomorrow. It could be a week from now.”
“Well, he has to be stopped,” dal Ruisseau Noir said. “That much is clear, and all things considered, it falls to us to do it.”
“There’s no one else,” Gill said. “No one else even knows he has it.”
“We’ll need to work the details out carefully,” dal Ruisseau Noir said. “Ideally, we’ll take the king and you’ll deal with the Prince Bishop and the cup at the same moment. I presume this item will be with the Prince Bishop, or close to him?”
“I expect so,” Gill said. “The truth is, we don’t know exactly where it is, but it can be sensed, and we’ll be able to pinpoint it once we get closer.”
“Within a hundred paces, I should be able to determine exactly where it is,” Solène said.
“That means you’re going with Gill,” dal Ruisseau Noir said. “And what about you, my silent friend? What unique skill do you bring, and where might it be most usefully employed?”
“My interests lie with the Cup,” Pharadon said. “I will accompany Gill.”
“I thought that might be the case,” dal Ruisseau Noir said. “So, we gain entry together, then your party proceeds to take the cup and kill the Prince Bishop, while mine goes to rescue the king.”
“Agreed,” Gill said.
“Good,” dal Ruisseau Noir said. “We’ll be ready to go at first light. We’ll meet at pier four on the south docks at dawn.”
CHAPTER 12
It had been a long time since Gill was last in a boat. Pharadon had never been in one. They had both stepped into it at the same time, and very nearly gave their mission a wet start. Considering the citizens of Mirabay used the river for waste disposal, it wouldn’t have been a particularly pleasant one either. As though the gods favoured their endeavour, a mist had descended on the river and spilled out over the banks. As propitious as it was, river fogs were common in Mirabaya, as the water, chilled in the distant mountains, met the warmer air of the lowlands.
A boatman—another undercover Intelligencier, it seemed—rowed them up the river, dodging the traffic of other fishing boats and ferries, which was heavy even at that early hour. The current wasn’t strong at that time of year, the spring thaws being long past and the winter rains not yet come, which meant the water was fouler than at any other time of the year. As various pieces of flotsam and jetsam floated by, Gill felt doubly glad he hadn’t ended up in the water. It was heartening to see the water get clearer and fresher as they put more of the city behind them, until they were in the veritable wilds of the upper reach, with the Isle behind them, open ground and fields on the left bank, and the forested slopes and cliffs of the hill on the right.
While dal Ruisseau Noir stood at the back of the boat with a fishing rod, seemingly unperturbed by the boat’s rocking, Gill scanned the shore for the quarry shaft’s entrance. He’d never seen it from this vantage point—he’d always been on the inside, letting people through the gate. He expected that the entrance had become heavily overgrown, and the task of spotting it was made even more difficult by the fog.
Pharadon personified discomfort. He sat on the narrow wooden bench beside Solène, gripping the bulwark with both hands. It made Gill wonder how vulnerable the dragon was while in human form. He certainly looked far frailer as a human, and he had already alluded to the fact that he could only shape very limited magic while in this form. Like as not, he would be no easier or harder to kill than anyone, but for a creature as ancient and mighty as him, the vulnerability everyone else took for granted must be a shocking proposition.
“I think that’s it,” dal Ruisseau Noir said.
Gill tried to follow his gaze and eventually spotted a shadow on the cliff face, partly concealed by bushes. He looked up the cliff, trying to get a sense of the location by checking the position of the palace walls and towers, but the structure was completely obscured by fog.
“Looks like it,” Gill said, shrugging.
Without needing instruction, the oarsman turned the boat toward shore, and continued his rhythmical movements, accompanied by the gentle creaking of the rowlocks and the splashing of the oars. The day was wearing on, and Gill hoped the fog wouldn’t burn off under the day’s sun—it would be a gift when it was time to make their escape. Still, he had long since learned not to rely on the things he couldn’t control. Which is pretty much everything.
The boat juddered and there was a crunching noise as the oarsman drove the craft onto the shore, far enough out of the water that they could hop out without getting their boots wet. Best not to leave a trail of wet footprints through the palace, Gill thought.
They got out quickly and hurried to the shelter of the cliff, where they would be out of sight of anyone up on the walls. Dal Ruisseau Noir delayed, shoving the boat back out into the river and giving the oarsman a salute before joining them. Returning the gesture, the boatman then resumed his steady motion, heading for the left bank, where he would wait out of sight.
Pushing aside some of the overgrowth revealed a passageway that sloped upward for a few paces before terminating at the impassable seal. Gill wondered for a moment if the engineer was still alive, and in a flare of twisted humour, considered sending the man a note letting him know they’d gotten through. Assuming they managed it, of course.
Enough light made it in to show that the surface of the steel had taken on a rough, rusty quality, but it still looked impenetrable. He placed his hand on the cold, damp, and gritty metal and gave it a push, just to be sure, but there was no movement. It was as solid as the rock that surrounded it. To be fair to the engineer, Gill didn’t think there was any way through it without magic, and even then, seeing and feeling it, he wasn’t entirely sure magic would be enough.
“What do you think?” he asked Solène.
She shrugged and gave him a hopeful smile.
Val, Pharadon, and the unnamed Intelligencier remained outside the passage, but dal Ruisseau Noir joined them.
“How does this work?” he said. “In truth, if it’s not going to then we can’t afford to waste much time on it.”
“I don’t know yet,” Solène said. “I have to decide what result I want, then work out a method of achieving it. That’s the starting point. It’ll require a little time and a lot of concentration…”
“Understood,” Gill said. “We’ll leave you to it.”
He placed a guiding hand on dal Ruisseau Noir’s shoulder and led him back to where the others waited. Making small talk was not something Gill was usually inclined toward, but he could see how pale Val had gone, and he felt sorry for Pharadon, who was likely wondering why the hell he’d agreed to this instead of flying in, burning the place to the ground, and picking the Cup out of the ashes.