“I’ve chosen the place,” Damek said without offering a greeting. “There is an isolated mining camp up north, above Enêmûsk. The captain my father assigned has died, and my father is having a difficult time replacing him, which is no wonder as the place sounds like banishment.”
“He won’t order one of his officers?”
“With such difficult assignments, my father prefers . . . volunteers. He’s a tyrant who hates to appear as a tyrant.” Damek paused and crossed his arms. “This mining camp is ideal for our purposes. Can you manage to place your captain in a position where he has no choice but to volunteer?”
Quinn remained quiet for a few moments, as if thinking. “Yes, I can manage.”
The gazebo vanished, and Amelie was caught up in the mists, moving forward.
When they cleared, she found herself seeing a memory she’d already experienced. She was back inside the stable, directly following the dice game where Keegan had lost his money on payday.
Just as before, Keegan was leaning forward with his hands on his knees, as if he was about to be ill.
“What can I do?” he said. “Master Terlone is coming tomorrow. He said if I don’t settle my account, he’ll go to Prince Lieven.”
Both Sullian and Quinn looked on. But this time, Amelie noticed how Quinn’s eyes glowed. There was no way he could have orchestrated the happenstance dice game in the courtyard, but beneath his false concern, she could see he was pleased.
“Could you not give some of your purchases back to him?” Sullian was saying. “The pewter goblets?”
“He won’t take them!” Keegan snapped. “And I cannot give a season’s worth of wine back. It’s already been drunk.” He stood and ran his hands over his face. “The prince cannot find out how much I owe. I’ll be ruined.”
The rest of the conversation continued as before, only this time, Amelie focused entirely on Quinn.
She did turn to Keegan when he closed his eyes and said, “I have to do something. The prince cannot hear of this.”
“Wait . . . ,” Sullian began. He hesitated and then said, “Quinn, what about that game of Hard Tens you promised to deal tonight? Could you get the captain in? He’s better with cards, and he could win his wages back.”
Keegan stood straight, his eyes filling with hope. “Hard Tens?”
Sullian nodded. “With Prince Damek here on a visit, a few of his officers asked Lieutenant Tanner to put a game together, and Tanner asked Quinn to deal.”
“Can you get me in?” Keegan asked Quinn.
Again, Amelie stopped listening to the words as Keegan begged. Quinn glanced away. “All right. I’ll speak to Lieutenant Tanner.”
But as she moved to see his face, she could also see his hidden relief. He must have been the one who’d arranged for the card game with Damek’s officers, and he’d probably offered to be the dealer.
The scene in the stable vanished, and Amelie saw only a blink of the mists before they disappeared and she found herself in another small, windowless room.
Again, she was back in a moment she had already seen—the card game with six men sitting at a round table. The same goblets and pitchers of wine were scattered about on the table. Candle lanterns burned from small tables in the corners of the room.
Quinn sat there dealing, and she realized how easy this must have been for him. No one would suspect the dealer in a game of Hard Tens, as the dealer had nothing to win or lose. He didn’t need to win here. He needed only to make certain that Keegan lost.
Walking up behind Keegan, she realized at what point in the game she’d come in. He had a two of clubs showing, and when he peeked at his hole card she saw the ten of diamonds. Amelie moved over to stand next to Quinn. No one else even glanced his way, but she noticed he had a card palmed in his hand. The men began placing bets, and by the time they were finished, Keegan had put in almost every coin he had left. One of Damek’s officers raised an eyebrow.
“Looks like a do-or-die hand for you, Captain,” he said.
Keegan didn’t answer and nodded to Quinn that he wanted another card.
Quinn dealt him the ten of hearts, and Keegan closed his eyes, knowing he’d gone over. Amelie watched the rest of the scene play out, knowing Keegan would jump up, leave the room, and come back with the bag containing his men’s payroll.
He did.
Quinn was staring at him as he sat down, and just as before, Keegan glared across the table. “Deal the cards, Corporal.”
Only this time, Amelie saw the gleam of triumph in the very back of Quinn’s blue eyes. No one else saw it. No one else even noticed him.
The room vanished, and the mists closed in, rushing her forward in time.
When they cleared, she was in the Ryazan encampment, and it looked to be in the same state of setup it had been in when she’d seen Keegan’s memories. Only now, she was watching Quinn. The early evening was breezy, and he wore a cloak over his shoulders.
He was outside, among the tents, and he glanced through the flap of a deteriorating small one, barely large enough to stand in. But he entered, and Amelie followed to watch.
First, he put on his leather gloves, and then he took the metal flask from the pocket of his cloak. Removing the stopper, he covered the tip of his pointer finger with the black elixir. Closing the flask, he put it back into his pocket.
Emerging, he seemed to choose a man at random, but Amelie could not be sure about that. His gaze paused on a soldier with a crooked tabard. Amelie noted the men were all clean and shaved at this point in time.
“Guardsman,” Quinn called. “The state of your tabard is a disgrace.”
The soldier turned at the sound of his voice. Quinn walked up quickly and straightened the tabard, and as he did so, Amelie saw his pointer finger brush one side of the man’s neck. The black spot left behind vanished into his skin.
“Better,” Quinn said, completing his adjustment of the tabard. “Just never let Lieutenant Sullian see you like that.”
The guardsman nodded and walked away.
Quinn watched him leave. “Less than an hour,” he said to himself. “It begins.”
The camp vanished, and the mists closed in.
Chapter Fourteen
As Amelie came out of the memories, she found herself looking up at Quinn’s face, but his expression was faraway. At some point, he’d taken his hand from her jaw and now had both palms pressed against the ground.
She didn’t hesitate.
Scrambling out from beneath him, she rolled and pulled the dagger from her boot, holding it in front of herself as she crouched just outside his reach.
His eyes cleared too late. Grabbing for her, he missed, and when he started to rush, he saw the dagger and froze. But she could almost see his mind working, and she feared that in battle he thought too much like she did—always leaning on the element of surprise. He would not do anything that might be expected.
Then . . . balancing herself with her free hand, she felt her fingers touch upon a jagged, good-sized rock.
How long until Jaromir noticed she should be back by now? Probably too long, and he didn’t even know where she was. But he’d go to the weapons cache first. Without looking down, she closed her hand around the rock.
She needed to distract Quinn for a few seconds.
“You did that to Sullian!” she accused. “How could you? He was your friend.”
To her surprise, he blinked and answered, “I had to. I’d reached a point where I needed more control. With him gone, even as a corporal, I’d be second-in-command.”
Perhaps he’d been playing a part for so long he was hungry to be himself and speak of these things.
“Did you turn a guard right outside our quarters tonight? So the wolf would kill Céline and me?”