Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
It’s time to begin asking our questions.
I survey our options and decide to start with a tiny tavern on the first level near the docks. It’s the obvious choice for sailors just washing in. “Let me do the talking. You scare people.” She glares and I point at her face. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m talking about, you get that look on your face like you’re going to start ripping out throats, and people get nervous.”
“Ripping out throats is my favorite pastime.” But she relents immediately. “You might as well tell me the plan of attack.”
“Once again, no attacking. No murder. No bar fights. Nothing that’s going to make our welcome on Drash shift.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “There’s two plans of attack, so to speak. We talk to the sailors. Most of them aren’t locals and so pass through, some with regularity and some without, but they’ll have the most recent rumors about the Cŵn Annwn. Then we talk to the barkeeps. They see every single person who comes through their doors. If the Crimson Hag has been in these waters, they’ll know it.” The trick is charming them into parting with that information without needing to delve into our dwindling stash of money. I know who the rebellion contacts are on the two closest islands to Viedna, but there was no reason to give me the information about islands farther afield. Especially when it could mean a security risk. I might be able to find whoever locally support the rebellion, but there’s no guarantee. We have to make the money last.
Lizzie raises her eyebrows. “That seems deceptively simple.”
“Because it is a deceptively simple plan. Putting it into action is significantly more complicated. Sailors love to talk, but every person in Threshold fears the Cŵn Annwn. If they think for a second that we mean the crew of the Crimson Hag harm, we won’t be able to get a single piece of information out of them. Not because they’re loyal, but because they’re afraid of the consequences coming back onto them and their people.”
Lizzie braids her hair back with smooth, practiced movements. It leaves her face on display, and it’s almost too much beauty for me to think straight. I expected to be inoculated to her presence after all this time together, but moments like these strike me all over again, and I’m rendered speechless.
Not that she seems to notice. She finishes braiding her hair and frowns. “It’s interesting to hear the perception of the Cŵn Annwn from someone who isn’t Bowen. I don’t understand how someone so disgustingly honorable spent so long wrapped up in such a corrupt system.”
From what I gather, Bowen is the exception to the rule. Honorable Cŵn Annwn are certainly not my experience. “He didn’t choose to be part of their group any more than most people do. And, to hear tell of it, the last captain of his ship, Ezra, was a lot like him.” That was before my time gathering information for the rebellion, but when my mother indulges in more than her usual amount of wine, she’s been known to wax poetic about Ezra. A member of the Cŵn Annwn with honor? It defies belief. The only exceptions I’ve seen are people who actively participate in the rebellion. Like Nox.
“I won’t pretend to be some paragon, but at least my family doesn’t run around terrorizing entire civilizations.” She says it slowly, almost as if musing to herself. “The Cŵn Annwn truly are evil.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that participating in the rebellion would ensure a significant amount of murder, certainly enough to satisfy her more violent impulses. Surely that’s reason enough for her to stay.
But I don’t. Even making that comment in jest reeks of manipulation. Lizzie has no interest in the rebellion or staying in Threshold longer than strictly necessary.
What if she asked me to come with her?
The thought slips free before I have a chance to smother it. And then it’s there, sitting in the center of my brain and demanding a response. I turn away from Lizzie, angry at myself for even contemplating it. She’s not going to ask me to come with her, and even if she did, what would that even look like?
My place is here. In Threshold. Fighting against a corrupt system. Or at least informing for those who are fighting. When this hunt for Lizzie’s family heirlooms is over, I’ll return to Viedna and resume my place in my family’s tavern. I’ll smile and charm the Cŵn Annwn who come through our doors and milk them for every piece of information they have access to. And then I’ll turn around and report it to the rebellion. And some day, hopefully within my lifetime, we’ll take down the Council and the corrupt crews and establish a new, just system in Threshold.