GIDEON
IT WAS ALWAYS A shock these days, stepping into the Good Commander’s gaslit study. The room itself hadn’t changed. Familiar leather-bound books lined the walls, and a solid mahogany desk stood on the carpet with a wingback chair behind it.
The sight was almost comforting.
It was the man seated behind the desk who was not.
It should have been Nicolas Creed in that chair. A father figure, mentor, and friend. Gideon still recalled Nicolas’s calloused hand pressing a pistol into his palm before they took the palace by force at the New Dawn. It was Nicolas who’d first believed in Gideon. Who’d taught Gideon how to believe in himself.
But Nicolas was dead. Yet another victim of Cressida Roseblood.
Gideon had dug the man’s grave himself, right after digging his brother’s.
And the person sitting at the desk was his son, Noah. The new Good Commander.
Noah wore his father’s black uniform, with a scarlet cloak pinned over one shoulder. He propped his elbows on the desktop and steepled his fingers while listening to the young woman already inside the room, standing before the desk, giving an account.
Even from behind, the Good Commander’s master of spies was easy to recognize. Her black hair was pulled up into a topknot. The bottom half of her head was shaved close to the scalp, drawing attention to her missing ear
—taken from her by witches she’d been indentured to under the Sister Queens’ reign.
At the sight of Gideon stepping through the door, the Good Commander’s jaw tightened—a movement so slight, Gideon wondered if he’d imagined it.
Noah held up his hand, halting his spymaster’s words.
“Impeccable timing, Sharpe. Harrow was informing me of trouble on the Continent. And here you are: the source of it.” He nodded for the soldiers to bring Gideon forward.
With his hands shackled, Gideon let himself be nudged toward the Commander. When he stopped beside Harrow, her bright gold eyes locked on his. Not so long ago, Harrow had been Gideon’s informant, freely bringing him information to aid in his witch hunts.
Now Harrow reported to the Good Commander, who disseminated her intel as he saw fit. Gideon couldn’t blame her for the shift in loyalty. He’d failed her—failed all of them. Which was precisely why he needed to convince them to support his new plan. He had to fix what he’d broken.
“Start over, Harrow.” Noah looked Gideon up and down, as if inspecting every crease of his shirt and fleck of dirt on his pants. “I’ll deal with you in a minute, Sharpe.”
Glancing back to Gideon, Harrow said, “I have a contact who’s infiltrated the witch queen’s ranks.”
Gideon frowned, interrupting her. “To infiltrate Cressida’s ranks, this contact would have to be a witch.”
“That’s correct.”
“You’re sure she can be trusted?”
“That’s why we’re bringing in the sibyl,” said Noah. “To verify.” He nodded for Harrow to go on.
“My contact says Soren has given Cressida an army and will sail with her to lay siege to the New Republic in a matter of days.”
“I could have told you that if you’d simply waited for my report,” said Gideon.
Harrow cut him a look. “Soren has also doubled his initial war chest because of his fiancée’s kidnapping.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Gideon. “There’s a way to circumvent this war
and destroy Cressida. But it requires keeping the Crimson Moth alive.”
Harrow narrowed her eyes, turning her full attention on him. “You’re compromised, Comrade.”
Gideon brushed this off. “You aren’t thinking strategically. None of you are.” He looked around the room, which, other than the soldiers, contained a handful of Noah’s ministers. “If we kill the Moth, it will only enrage the prince. You think it’s bad now that he’s doubled his war chest? If his fiancée is dead, he’ll hold nothing back. You will make things worse.”
Harrow crossed her arms. But she was listening.
It wasn’t Harrow he needed to convince, though. It was the new Commander.
He turned toward Noah, who was staring Gideon down from behind his father’s desk, his eyes cold as glittering ice.
“Cressida believes she has a long-lost sibling. A missing Roseblood heir, who she can use to resurrect her sisters.”
Startled murmurs rippled around the room. “Resurrection is a myth,” said Noah.
“You certain of that? Because we can’t afford to be wrong.”
Gideon ignored the intense dislike radiating at him from across the desk and forged ahead. “Rune is hunting for this Roseblood heir. Once she finds them, she intends to smuggle them back to the Continent. My plan is twofold. First: we ambush them. I’ll learn when and where Rune is planning to launch her escape and ensure the Blood Guard are lying in wait. “Second: once we have them surrounded, we execute the Roseblood heir and arrest Rune, who we use to negotiate with Soren. All the prince has to do if he wants his precious bride back is cooperate with us. And all we’ll require of him is this: once we prove to him that we have Rune in custody, he must order his soldiers to turn on an unsuspecting Cressida, killing her and every witch in her army. If he doesn’t comply, Rune dies. If he does
comply, we return Rune to him, unharmed.”
Gideon glanced around the room, meeting the eyes of every official and soldier, one after another.
“We will prevent a war we’re not sure we can win, and we’ll rid ourselves of Cressida, along with any possibility of resurrecting her or her sisters.”
The room fell quiet.
“And if you fail to deliver?” Gideon turned to Noah.
“If I fail, we’ll go to war and lose.” He glanced at Harrow. “If I fail, Cressida will not only reclaim her throne, but resurrect Elowyn and Analise and usher in a new Reign of Witches—”
Gideon broke off as palace guards escorted a shackled young woman into the room. Iron cylinders encased her hands, preventing her from casting spells, and her copper hair hung in greasy strings down her back.
The woman was Aurelia Kantor: a witch they’d been using to track down others of her kind. As a sibyl, Aurelia saw into the past, present, and future. This Sight allowed her to know the exact locations of every witch on the island—which the Blood Guard had been forcing her to tell them, one by one.
“I want to see my daughter.” Aurelia’s voice scratched, as if she’d gone too many days without water. “It’s been two weeks. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”
The daughter in question was a two-year-old child in the care of a guardian halfway across town. Her name was Meadow. Kept under lock and key, Meadow was the only thing securing Aurelia’s obedience.
“Ask her,” said Gideon. “Let her verify everything I’ve said.”
The sibyl’s head turned, hawklike, to face Gideon. Her emerald eyes thinned as she took in his restraints, a question in them.
“Is Cressida Roseblood planning to resurrect her sisters?” said Noah. Her eyes shuttered and she looked away, pressing her thin lips together. “Is it possible?” he asked.
Still she didn’t answer. Gideon was preparing to barter with her. Better rations, increased visits with her daughter—these things usually worked. But before he could, Noah spoke from behind his desk.
“Bring in the child.”
Gideon hadn’t seen the kid since the two were captured together. The unspoken threat to Meadow’s safety had always been enough to make the sibyl comply.
A soldier brought the toddler into the room and set her down on an armchair that dwarfed her tiny frame. It was clear she’d been taken far better care of than her mother. White ribbons tied her wispy red hair into pigtails, and the clean dress she wore looked more expensive than anything in Gideon’s closet.
But her eyes were wide and terrified.
“Mumma?” Her chin trembled at the sight of her mother, in chains and kneeling on the floor several paces away. The girl held out her tiny hands to Aurelia, whispering: “Mumma, Mumma. I want to go home.”
Gideon watched the witch struggle to control the emotion in her voice as the tears ran down her daughter’s cheeks. “I know, baby. Soon. We’ll go home soon.”
It was a lie. Aurelia knew perfectly well that neither she nor her child was ever going home.
Noah rose from his chair. “Is Cressida Roseblood planning to raise her sisters from the dead?”
“I don’t know,” said Aurelia.
“Bring the child here,” said Noah. “And hold its hand down on the desk.”
What?
Gideon spun to watch Noah lift his dead father’s sword down from the wall. A dark dread coiled in his stomach.
This was not how he would have done it.
Because you are soft, said a voice inside him. And your softness gets people killed.
The Good Commander was demonstrating what a strong leader looked like.
But this …
“No! Please!” The witch’s voice shook as she looked to Gideon. “Don’t let him hurt her!”
“He won’t,” he said, hoping this was true. “If you answer the question.” As Noah gripped the sword in two hands, the child tried to back away.
One guard grabbed her arms while the other seized her wrist, pinning her little hand to the desk.
Meadow started wailing.
No mother should be put in this position. No child should be put in this position.
Gideon stepped forward. But what could he do? His hands were bound.
He was as much a prisoner here as the witch and her child.
Noah lifted the sword into the air. The blade glinted in the lamplight.
“Stop!” Aurelia stumbled forward, chains clinking. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. Just don’t hurt her! Please!”
“Then answer the question: is Cressida the last living Roseblood?”
The witch’s shoulders slumped as she realized the choice before her: the witch queen—who would kill her for her treachery—or her daughter. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she stared at her terrified child.
“Forgive me, my queen…”
Gideon watched as her green eyes clouded over, turning milky white. Her breathing slowed as her body went still as marble. More statue than flesh.
“Cressida’s mother, Queen Winoa, had a fourth child with her second husband,” she said finally. “But the sickly thing died in childbirth. The queen never fully recovered from her grief. For years, she heard it crying at night, and would wander the palace halls in search of it.”
Gideon knew the story. Cress had told it to him more than once. Cressida’s mother had remarried when her first husband died. Cress and her sisters hated their stepfather—who, by all accounts, was an unspeakably cruel man—and blamed him for turning their mother against them after the stillbirth.
“Everyone thought she’d gone mad,” he said. Even Cressida.
“But the child didn’t die,” said Aurelia. “It was stolen away in the night.”
Gideon frowned. “Why?”
“To save it from the royal family’s dysfunction? To fulfill a prophecy— or stop one from coming true?” She shook her head. “It’s unclear.”
“And this person—are they alive? If so, who are they? And where can I find them?”
Aurelia’s eyes went whiter still. Her brow creased as she concentrated hard.
“They’re alive, but…”
It was several minutes before the clouds retreated from her eyes. When they did, she drew in a sharp breath and collapsed to the floor.
“I can’t See them.” Aurelia bent over like a dog while the guards kept her daughter’s hand pinned to the desk. “Something’s blocking my Sight.”
Noah raised the sword again.
“She’s telling the truth,” said Gideon, stepping forward to intervene. “Cressida said the same thing, that a spell is blocking sibyls from seeing this person. As if someone wants to keep them hidden.”
Reluctantly, Noah lowered the sword. He glanced at the sibyl. “This missing Roseblood—can they be used to resurrect Elowyn and Analise?”
Aurelia released a breath. “Yes.”
“If this person were found and killed,” said Gideon, “could Cressida use her own blood to cast the spell?”
Aurelia shook her head. “It’s an Arcana spell—it requires the blood of a close family member. A parent, child, or sibling. But it isn’t just blood that’s demanded, it’s life. The spell requires the kin’s life be sacrificed in exchange for the resurrection of the dead.”
“So if Cressida used herself as the blood sacrifice, she’d die in the process.”
Aurelia nodded.
“In other words: if this missing Roseblood were disposed of before Cressida found her, Cress wouldn’t be able to cast the resurrection spell.”
“That’s correct.”
Gideon looked to Noah. Aurelia had just made it clear Gideon’s plan was the best one they’d come up with. Noah had no choice but to concede.
The Good Commander nodded to the guards still pinning Meadow. The moment they let go, the girl ran for her mother, locking her little arms around the witch’s neck. Despite her chains, Aurelia hugged her child tight, forming a protective shell around her.
Harrow stepped forward, walking a slow circle around the chained witch. “We know Soren has given Cressida an army. What we need are
numbers. How many ships, soldiers, and artillery does she have at her disposal?”
Gideon remembered the steamships sailing into Caelis’s harbor.
“Eleven ironclads, nine gunboats, and seven troopships,” said Aurelia. “Plus thousands of well-armed soldiers.”
It would be more than enough to take the capital by force.
Harrow glanced at the Commander and nodded, as if the sibyl was indeed verifying the information delivered from her contact.
“And the terms of the alliance?” asked Noah.
“Once Soren’s army helps Cressida take the capital, the prince will marry Rune Winters. If the wedding does not take place as promised, Soren will retract his men, artillery, and ships, leaving Cressida to fend for herself.”
Gideon watched as Aurelia hummed a familiar lullaby against her child’s cheek, trying to calm her. It was the same lullaby his mother once sang to him and his siblings, frightening away their nightmares, soothing them when they were sick.
He shook the thought away.
This witch was nothing like his mother.
A soldier crouched in front of Aurelia, whose arms tightened around her child. The song in her throat quieted and her lips curled in a snarl, like a she-wolf ready to tear out his throat if he came any closer.
“Captain Sharpe.” Noah’s voice pierced the silence, forcing Gideon’s gaze to the Commander. “Soren’s ships may have already disembarked from the Continent. If so, they will be here in three days. In order for your plan to work, we need to get a message to the prince, and have the Crimson Moth ready to hand over when he arrives. I’m therefore giving you two days to come through on your promises. If the Crimson Moth slips through your fingers once again, I’ll have to assume it’s intentional. Two days. Understood? If you fail, you’ll be accused of sympathizing with witches and put in a cell to await execution.”
Execution.
The word rang through him like a gunshot. But could he do it in two days?
Did he have a choice?
Gideon steeled himself. “You must let me work unhindered. I need your complete trust, even if it looks like I’m compromised. To get the information we need, I must convince Rune I’m on her side. No sending soldiers to search my apartment or arrest me. No interference whatsoever.”
The Crimson Moth could not expect an ambush, or she would outmaneuver them.
Noah slit his eyes. “Fine. Agreed.”
“Great,” said Gideon, flatly. “Now, if someone wouldn’t mind releasing me”—he held out his manacled fists—“I’ll escort the sibyl back. I have a few more questions for her.”
 |
“THIS ISN’T THE WAY to my cell,” said Aurelia. They’d taken her child away, and ever since, her eyes had gone dark.
Gideon led her through the palace’s gaslit halls, boots thudding on the marble floors. “I’m not taking you to your cell.”
She glanced up at him. “Then where are you taking me?”
Gideon couldn’t help but compare the feral-looking thing beside him to the aristocratic woman he’d originally brought in. Two months in the palace prison could drastically change a person.
“That depends on your answers to my questions.” She narrowed her eyes.
“Where is Cressida keeping the bodies of Elowyn and Analise?”
Aurelia glanced away, pretending to study the marble walls as if they were made of complicated tapestries rather than blank stone.
He stopped, forcing her to halt. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll get you out of here.”
She cocked her head, studying him carefully. “Why should I trust you?” Gideon shrugged. “You can’t.” He glanced behind them, then up ahead.
The hallway was empty; a corridor of white. “But you can barter with me: the answers I need in exchange for your freedom.”
She sharpened like a freshly honed knife. Her green eyes blazed at him.
“I’m not going anywhere without Meadow. And I’m not telling you anything more until she’s safely in my arms.”
Turning on her heel, she headed toward the palace prison.
“You want answers? Free my daughter first. Then, we’ll talk.”
