CHAPTER 27

Vex waved the guard away when he offered to call for backup. She definitely didn’t need the Shadewatch with her today. She needed her bear by her side, and her absolute mess of a brother too. She’d cooled down by the time she returned from her rain-soaked walk through Jorenn yesterday, and while his words still cut, she knew she could and would always forgive him anything. If they didn’t see eye-to-eye on this, they’d find a way to meet each other in the middle. She needed to have him close.

But he’d been distant and distracted when she’d found him in the sitting room. He hadn’t been able to look at her, his thoughts apparently a thousand miles away.

He hadn’t been the only one out of sorts. Aswin had been moping around and she clung to Derowen, far more frightened than she had been before the fight. When the Shademaster had asked her what was wrong, Aswin had looked at her with large, serious eyes and told her, “The ash walkers will come again.”

So everyone tiptoed around the girl, and Vex decided to let the argument with her brother rest for a night.

Today, immediately after breakfast, he’d told her he’d go for a walk. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he needed to clear his head. So she did what any reasonable sister would do: she gave him enough of a head start to convince him he was alone, and then she followed him. She wasn’t going to lose sight of him again.

He had walked, at first. Around the town square and the random shops, his feet kicking up dust now that the rain was a distant memory. His shoulders slumped, and he didn’t return any of the curious greetings thrown his way.

It was easier to follow him there, skipping from corner to alley, letting the carriages and travelers on the road function as a shield. He looked over his shoulder once or twice, but she was certain he didn’t see her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kept walking.

He wandered toward the miners’ gate, on the north side of town, and slowed down, glancing at the windows of the various buildings, though there was little to see. The miners who lived in this part of town spent long days in the silver mines, leaving before sunrise and not returning until nightfall. She’d seen them pass through the gate—which was nothing more than two poles on either side of a mountain path—once when she ran around in circles in the hills. Dozens of miners, with tools and work songs and the pallid complexion of dwarves and humans who didn’t see enough sunlight.

She didn’t have a clue what Vax wanted here. This part of Jorenn was abandoned. Even that ridiculous tavern in the defunct chapel attic wouldn’t open until much closer to midnight.

All of a sudden Vax turned around and paced back toward the main gate of Jorenn, and Vex ducked around the corner, pressing herself against the wall and holding her breath, but not before she got a glimpse of the frown on his face and of his exhausted eyes.

When he confidently made his way out of town, despite the curious and suspicious glances of the Shadewatch, Vex’s anger returned with the fires of hell. She wanted to scream. Instead she gathered her bear from Aswin’s care and followed.

Trinket harrumphed when she dragged him back out into the hills, and she leaned down to scratch his head. “I know, buddy. Blame Vax.”

At least she knew which set of tracks to follow, so it was easier to keep up with her brother. She channeled her rage toward survival. She kept him at the edge of her line of sight, nothing more than a small shadow in the distance. It was riskier than allowing him the safety of being completely invisible, but she couldn’t bear the thought of letting him out of her sight again.

Now that the storm had passed, the pale late morning sun cast the hills into muted browns and bland grays. She could still see the ghosts of the tracks she’d followed before, and the scarce green was covered in mud mixed with ash. Perhaps her unease hadn’t only been the absence of her brother; perhaps it had been the dead grass and the scars that cut across the landscape. Nothing here was quite as it should be.

Vax led her past a shallow stream that had flooded in the downpour. He stood next to it for a while, as if trying to figure out where to go next. She could tell him the options. The mountain path that had once led deeper into the Umbra Hills was now a dead end as a result of a rockslide. The grasslands that would inevitably lead back to the main route—the Blackvalley Path where they were ambushed. Or another rocky passage that ambled past a half-hidden cairn she thought was one of the outlaws’ landmarks. This was nowhere near where they’d found the entrance to the mines. When she had investigated it, she’d lost the better part of a day following the slopes and inclines. She’d slid down an uneven path and nearly broke her leg.

Of course, it was the exact direction Vax chose. He headed directly for the cairn, and his footing became more confident, more sure of where he was going. His shoulders loosened, and she’d very nearly lost sight of him twice when his stride lengthened.

“What have you gotten yourself into, brother?” she muttered.

Trinket responded with a soft grunt.

She knew where he was going. Or at the very least, she had a decent idea. And the thought of it, the thought of him not trusting her enough to tell her, cut through her like one of his daggers. They could disagree with each other. They could fight. They had and would again. But she didn’t know how they could come back from not trusting each other, when it had always been the two of them against the world.

He slipped out of her line of sight again, and she picked up her pace, keeping a firm eye on the tracks and burying the hurt inside of her as deep as she could.

She followed the tracks for the better part of half an hour, and the longer he stayed invisible, the more apprehensive she became. She could see his footprints. She just couldn’t see Vax. She wasn’t used to losing him in the wilds, even these weird hills. She was the better tracker of the two of them.

The tracks led her across a rocky path, where she could only keep up because of the shift in rocks and dirt underneath. Because she knew he had to have come this way. When she reached a collection of large boulders, the topmost rock with a cracked line that made it look split in two and pushed back together again, even those minuscule traces disappeared.

Her heart sank, and Trinket made a worried, mournful sound.

“He has to be here somewhere,” she said firmly to her bear. “He can’t actually have disappeared.”

She crouched down next to the boulders and ran her hand across the last of the markings—the toes of a footprint and broken blades of shadegrass. If she hadn’t known to look for them, she’d never have found the tracks. And while she crouched, she could see other subtle tracks too. The random clumps of grass that sprouted up amidst the rocks all showed signs of traffic. The small pebbles that were stamped into the dusty ground underneath.

If she hadn’t known Vax had passed through this place, the traces would’ve been small enough not to alert her or any hunter. But they were so obvious now. Others aside from Vax had walked the same path he had. And it was as if they’d walked straight into the boulder.

She stilled.

Perhaps they had.

She pushed herself back to her feet and motioned for Trinket to stay back. She reached for her bow, so she could have it drawn in an instant, and took a step toward the boulder. Then another. Hesitant, torn between the knowledge that she’d find solid rock beneath her fingers, and the hope that the stone might hold some explanation of why she hadn’t been able to find her brother before.

One step closer.

Her hand pushed straight through the border, like it wasn’t even there.

Before she could wrap her mind around it, something sharp dug into her side, below her ribs. “Not one step farther,” a young voice warned her.

She pulled back from the boulder and slowly raised her hands. She turned until her assailant dug the blade deeper. From the corner of her eye, she could make out a slender girl in a black cloak wielding an impressive glaive. She was in her teens, and the polearm was taller than she was.

“Tell your bear to calm down too, or we put an arrow into him.” Another voice, from above her.

She craned her neck and saw the silhouette of an older halfling man with a longbow, an arrow locked on Trinket. Cold rage coursed through her, and her hands trembled, but she cleared her throat.

“Stay there, buddy.”

Trinket growled to let her know that while he understood, he wasn’t happy about it.

She wasn’t either, but she had to find a way to distract the halfling archer before she could attack. She wouldn’t risk any harm coming to Trinket.

“What do you want?” she demanded, speaking in unison with the girl wielding the glaive.

The blade pressed harder. “You first.”

“Sightseeing,” she snapped. She couldn’t reach for her bow without attracting attention, but she might be able to get to the knife in her belt. “Looking for a good place for a picnic. Can you recommend any decent rocks? Nice view of the valley, maybe?”

She squinted at the boulders, where the halfling archer was busy dividing his attention between her and Trinket, his hand wavering slightly. She’d have to pick the right moment.

She edged away from the glaive.

“Cute,” the girl snarled. “Now give us your real—”

Vex didn’t wait for the rest of the sentence. She jammed her heel into the rocky ground underneath, sending pebbles and dirt flying toward the girl. They wouldn’t harm her, not beyond getting stuck in her boot, but they didn’t need to. Vex gambled on a distraction.

She angled away from the glaive’s blade, and in the same motion reached for the knife in her belt. Instead of trying to get away from the girl, she grabbed the glaive’s pole and used it to pull her off balance. By the time the girl recovered, Vex had already crossed the distance between them, and she kept her own blade at her assailant’s throat. She made sure to keep the girl between herself and the archer, who’d swung his bow toward them but still kept an eye on Trinket.

“Your turn to answer,” she hissed.

Right at that moment, a familiar half-elf stepped straight through the boulder she’d been investigating. He had his black hair bound behind his head, and rough scars across one side of his face. A new cut ran along his jawline, and he carried the weight of grief in his eyes. He wore a long coat that came down to his knees, full of pockets and mended tears. He folded his arms and looked exhausted when she glowered at him. “I do believe this is what they call an impasse.”

She recognized him as the man her brother had stepped in front of when the Shadewatch raided the mine. Thorn, the leader of the outlaws, and the man Derowen wanted to bring to justice.

She kept her knife at the girl’s throat, despite the wave of disorientation at seeing the half-elf manifest in front of her, when another figure stepped out too. Vax shrugged helplessly. “Drop the blade, Vex.”

“What the fuck, Vax?”

“My people will stand down too,” Thorn promised. “Though you and your guard ensured there are fair few left of them.”

She felt the tightening of her throat. “Yours first.”

Thorn tilted his head slightly, as if measuring her up, but he nodded. With a single gesture from Thorn, the halfling relaxed his bow, and the girl dropped her glaive to the ground. Vex felt her tremble, though whether it was fear or anger she couldn’t tell.

Vax nodded at her, to tell her she could drop the knife too, and perhaps she wasn’t quite so ready to forgive and forget as she thought, because hot anger coursed through her. She pulled the knife back and sheathed it. The look she shot her brother was sharp enough to cut.

“You must forgive us the welcome,” Thorn said, harsh edges to his voice. “We don’t often entertain guests here.” He looked between her and Vax, and then at the hills around them. “But while you’re here, let’s have this conversation inside. We’ll be comfortable there, and I’m sure you understand we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

She didn’t feel like being comfortable anywhere quite yet, but she twisted to call Trinket over, and with her bear by her side she nodded. “Let’s.”

If Thorn had any opinions about the bear, he didn’t show them, he simply nodded. “This way.”

She glowered when he turned and walked into the solid stone again, while Vax remained where he was. He had one foot inside what must be a cave, and from her vantage point it looked like it was sticking in a rock.

He reached out a hand to her. “Come on, Stubby. I’ll show you.”

The only thing that would outweigh her trepidation was her irritation. She ignored the outstretched hand and walked through the rock where Thorn had disappeared. She’d expected it to feel cold or different somehow. She’d expected some kind of resistance, but inside all she could see was the daylight being swallowed by a long passage that barely led along the surface before it dove deeper underground. Thorn was already making his way into the maw of darkness.

Behind her, Trinket moaned, and she popped her head back out. “Come here, Trinket. It’s okay. Just follow me.”

Vax cleared his throat. “Do you want him to wait outside? It’s safe there.”

“No.” She didn’t look away from Trinket, who slowly walked closer, hesitation evident in every step. “I’m not letting either of you out of my sight.”

Trinket paused in front of the boulder with a questioning grunt, and Vex placed her hand on his nose. She smiled. “Just follow me,” she repeated, and, one awkward step in front of the other, Trinket walked through the illusionary rock.

Vax followed immediately behind the bear. He’d curled his fingers around Trinket’s fur, and they were briefly connected through the bear. Then he pulled his hand back and pushed it inside his cloak.

“I’m sorry?” he tried.

“For what?” she asked. “For not trusting me yesterday? Or for not trusting me today?”

The words hit like blows. “I do trust you. I trust you with my life. I trust you with my heart. I’d made up my mind to tell you everything yesterday, until I realized these weren’t my secrets to share, and I needed to figure out what to do.”

“So you decided to just abandon me again?” She only realized that was what she was angry about when the words left her mouth. The mere concept was an emptiness inside of her.

Vax recoiled. “No. Never. I wanted to make sure you didn’t get caught up in this.”

“I’m already caught up in it!”

“I know you are, but I needed you to be able to deny my actions, for your own safety. I needed Thorn to know what I found. I owed him that.” He pointed out the path in front of her, and it was so easy to fall into the old rhythm of walking together.

“Why?” she asked. “You’ve already saved his life once. What can he tell you that I can’t? Why is he the one to make the decisions?”

They meandered farther down into the tunnels of an extensive mining system. Some of the tunnels were naturally created, others carved or expanded from what was already there. It had to be connected to the mine where they fought, but outside of the fight, she’d never seen anything like it in such detail, and it pulled her in and made her want to explore.

“Because he’s not the only one who’s left here,” Vax said. “They took care of me and I have a responsibility to them. Especially now.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

He leveled a look at her. “The Clasp is tied up in all of this.”

She stopped and Trinket nearly collided with her. “The Clasp,” she repeated. “The it’s-just-a-simple-fucking-heist Clasp? That Clasp?”

“Information is as valuable as gold,” Vax muttered.

“What?”

“Something my contact told me. It’s definitely as valuable as silver around these parts, and much harder to come by.” He indicated they should keep walking. “That fucking Clasp. Derowen deals with them. And I don’t know what the fuck to do about it or what that means for us or why they’d want to endanger their own operation in the first place. I do know we have to get to the heart of this. Thorn is the only one who may have the answers we need, and this is the evidence he needs.” He continued, “He takes care of everyone here, everyone who’s been hurt by the Shadewatch. Everyone who’s left. All they have is a small hideout. He’s been fighting to find them a home for so long, and now he’s lost everything. Again.” There was something else underneath the tension in his voice, something softer, and Vex considered it. She listened not merely to what he said, but how he said it.

They turned another corner to a more brightly lit hallway. A gateway led to a dark, damp chamber with sleeping cots set up along the walls, and a single lantern for light. When Vax glanced inside with a peculiar sort of curiosity, she realized her pretty-face jab at least hadn’t been far off the mark.

She nearly laughed. “Really, brother?” She shook her head and would have slapped him if he had been closer. “I’ve been worried sick about you, and you spent your time here dallying with this new friend of yours?”

Vax swung back to her. “It isn’t like that,” he protested.

“Of course it fucking isn’t. Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong.”

Of course it wasn’t. Fuck, she couldn’t even blame him for it. Sometimes the easiest way to deal with heartbreak was to find someone who didn’t mind the pieces. She had before too. But she’d never let the pieces cut her brother.

Inside the room, Thorn sat down at one of the cots. He had a leather-bound notebook in front of him. He raised an inquiring eyebrow and slowly looked Vax up and down, before turning to Vex.

“I lied about the comfort,” he said, gesturing around him. “This is what we have now.”

“I’ve heard stories about you.” She crossed her arms, declining to sit. She needed to keep standing to keep her balance.

Thorn sighed and tipped up his chin. The slightest shift in demeanor, and he went from casually friendly to closed off. “Ah, I see it’s like that.”

“Even if I hadn’t, your guards threatened my bear,” she said. It was a shitty comment, she knew that, but it was absolutely what she was going to be angry about.

Trinket growled, as if to put force to her words.

“They were protecting their own,” Thorn said. “You can hardly blame them after the last couple of days. And from what I could see, you were handling that situation quite well.”

She hadn’t. She knew how to handle a blade because once upon a time she’d had the finest fucking teachers in Syngorn, but in a direct fight she would’ve been overpowered. Still, Thorn didn’t need to know that.

“Vex.” Vax rubbed his hand over his face. He reached for the notebook and held it up. “This is the truth. I stole into the Shademaster’s office yesterday. I found evidence of her smuggling. Getting the miners out of the mines was never just about the ash walkers. These are notes of all her transactions with buyers in Westruun and in the Turst Fields. With every shipment of silver that comes out of Jorenn’s mines, at least a quarter disappears before it makes the official records. She’s been stealing the town’s reserves.”

She snatched the notebook from his hand and leafed through it. All the notes were in shorthand, but Vax had included loose pages with chaotic scribbles and attempts at breaking the code. Lines that included transactions of raw silver. Some gems and craftwork. Destinations, too. Westruun. Turst Fields. Traders in Drynna and Kymal, and lists of agreements to deliver new shipments of silver. The coin she made in gold.

She kept reading to find new names of new contacts. Dates for deliveries. Places Vax hadn’t been able to translate yet. Names that were all still in code.

Vex looked up. “You figured all of this out on your own?”

“I didn’t sleep much last night. I was hoping Thorn might be able to help. He deserved a chance to see it, at least.” He managed a hint of a smile. “Or maybe I should’ve asked you. You were always better at our studies than I was.”

She ran her finger over one particular line of transactions. “Westruun?” Vax had managed to translate both the place name and a word starting with C. “The fucking Clasp. Fucking pieces of shit.”

“There’s more,” Vax said. “Turn to the last page.”

She didn’t want to. She did. The last page was a list of names, nearly two dozen of them. They were written in a messy scrawl, and next to at least half of them, in the neat handwriting that Vex recognized as Derowen’s, was the same word repeated over and over again.

Eliminated.

She felt her anger drain away for something colder. A void inside her. The betrayal of the people she’d come to trust despite all her best efforts.

Thorn got to his feet and when she nodded her permission, he leaned in and pointed out the second name on the list. Anissa. She’d heard it before.

“That’s my sister,” he said, and something in his voice caught. His finger trailed lower, to where his own name still stood unmarked.

Vax’s explanation was barely audible. “This is a list of the people she’s killed to get her hands on the mines. All the people who stood in her way. She is dangerous, Vex. She’s deadly.”

Vex felt faint. “No, it can’t be.”

“Thorn saw her run through his sister with that tall sword of hers, and he recognized some of the other names as miners who were killed. Others were part of the town’s guard and council before Derowen took over. You saw how the Shadewatch fought here. They came in to kill everyone but Thorn. That isn’t about justice, it’s about cruelty and revenge.”

“She knows you’re a danger to her community.”

“She knows we’re a danger to her trade,” Thorn countered flatly. “Most of us only want to get out of here and settle somewhere else, so why should the Shadewatch hunt us down? Even if we could escape, everyone she’s ever dealt with knows that we’re the miners who woke the ash walkers. No mining community will take us.”

“She wouldn’t have made a list, Vex.” That was her brother. “If it had just been about outlaws, she wouldn’t have made a list.”

Derowen was always the one with vision, Wick had told her.

The words wrapped around her chest like vines, tighter and tighter until she struggled to breathe. And Thorn, being the annoying gentleman bastard that he was, caught her arm and guided her to a chair before the world tipped out from under her.