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right. Then get back in here.”

I spun and stepped out of Helat’s private chamber, thinking I needed to head toward the castle’s main entrance.  Instead, just outside the door, I found the king’s newest page, Brent, who snapped upright as soon as he saw me. “They’ve tracked it to the wharves near the river bridge.  I was told to tell you that Jella says it’s inside one of the warehouses there, actually one of your family’s.”

I noted that he used the pronoun it.  Which meant that either none of my people had seen what I saw, or that they were keeping it quiet.  My money was on the latter.  Jella, at the very least, has much better eyesight than I do, and so does Soshi, for that matter.

“Excellent, Brent. Exactly what I needed to hear.”  I spun around and headed right back inside.

Slinch was talking as I entered, but he stopped as soon as I opened the door.  Erser looked thoughtful, the king was frowning, and Kiven was stony-faced. Brona shot me a tiny smile and a nod before smoothing her own expression clear.

“Well?” King Helat demanded.

“It’s holed up in a DelaCrotia warehouse on the wharf.  My people are all around it, waiting.”

“If your information is right, it has implications,” the king said.  “You’ve had longer to think about this than the rest of us… what do you think it means?”

I took a breath and marshalled my thoughts.  “I think, sire, that it’s a message from the Paul, although maybe not exactly what he intended.”

He glanced at Slinch and Erser, then looked back my way.  “Explain.”

“Take one of your enemy’s best soldiers and change him into one of yours.  Then send him back to wreak havoc and sow fear.”

“Saying to us, look what I can do,” Slinch said, nodding.

“Exactly.  Only, he picked the wrong soldier.  Ash came home but didn’t tear into the city. Instead, he scouted it carefully, cautiously.  Then he sought out his family, checking up on them,” I said, glancing at the lord marshal before continuing.  “He only acted like a true woldling when he was injured.  Now he’s holed up, away from most of the citizens of Haven and out of sight.  I doubt that’s what the Paul had in mind.”

“You think the Paul chose him out of all the other Shadows because he was the leader?” Slinch said.

“Leader, survivor, last man standing.  Or maybe he caught the entire murder and tried changing the whole lot of them and Ash was the only one to live through the… treatment.”

“I actually hope that’s the case,” Brona suddenly said.  “Because if he chose just Ash, then he’s got a Crafted taint with a very high survival rate, and that’s horrifying.”

“What?” Kiven asked her, suddenly focusing on the conversation.

“If he can pick one person, one adult person, and be sure they’ll live through the infection, then he has a weapon he can release on any nation that will turn the population into crazed killing machines,” Slinch said.

There was silence as that thought wove its way around the room.

“That’s if Savid is even right,” Kiven suddenly said.

“True, but Captain DelaCrotia has a very high credibility rate, don’t you think, Lord Marshal?” the king asked, pinning him with a stare.

Kiven stiffened for a second, then reluctantly nodded.

“But we need absolute confirmation, and we need Ash Newberry,” the king said.

“Alive, Your Majesty, if at all humanly possible,” Neil added.

“Yes, alive.  Well, Captain?” Helat asked, looking at me.

“On it, Sire,” I said, coming to attention and saluting.

“See to it,” he dismissed me. As I turned to leave, Brona gave me a wink, a little smile on her face.  Her message was clear, at least to me—well played.

Chapter 10

“Where is he?” I asked Jella.

She shrugged and waved at the warehouse. “Somewhere in there.”

“Helpful,” I said.

“Listen, he’s your friend and it’s your warehouse.”

“He’s what’s left of my friend and it’s my family’s warehouse, and might I remind you that he’s fought at your side for years. Also, I haven’t been in there in years,” I said, my words triggering memories.  I had played in the recesses of the building as a kid, but the last time I had been in here was several years ago, on leave from the Squadron, drunk and looking for a place to crash—with Ash.

The memory of that night was fuzzy, but I recalled entering through an unsecured roof vent, Ash stumbling through the opening and almost falling to the floor six spans below.

Walking the perimeter of the building, I nodded to my people who were spaced around the building, torches and lanterns lighting the dark corners of the waterfront.  On the east side of the building, I saw the long, mast-like crane support that we had climbed that night long ago.  This time, it was much easier than I remembered, no doubt more to do with sobriety than any skill I might have gained in the last years.

Jella followed me up, making the climb look easy even though she was my mother’s age. A splotch of black blood stained the roof tile directly off the crane support.  Across the roof was the square wooden frame of the vent, tipped over on its side, splinters of broken wood lying around its base.  Back in the day, I had just popped it loose and pulled it aside.  Wounded woldling Ash hadn’t been that patient.

I remembered that a catwalk was just off to one side of the vent opening.  Drunk and disorderly, we’d had to hang from the opening and then swing our feet over the rail.  I glanced inside, listening and smelling.  The stink of woldling fur wafted out and more black blood was smeared on the edge of the opening, but the dim outline of the catwalk looked clear.  I pulled back and let Jella take a look.  She could undoubtedly hear, see, and smell more details than I could, which is why she was always our best scout.  Back during my training with her, she would have made

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