Agatine (Terres book II)

Chapter Thirty One

Rannok's eyes widened when the door opened and Michael pushed Armand through, hand gripped tightly around his upper arm. His eyes were dark and guarded, and he looked around the room with an empty stare. He looked over at Wren. Her lips were sucked into her mouth and she'd gone white as a ghost. He put his hand on her arm momentarily, then stood.

"What is this?" Ittra asked, before he could get the same words out. Michael shoved Armand roughly, then let go of his arm. Armand looked down at the floor, face burning red. Rannok didn't know whether to be furious or feel bad for him?

"Jonah kicked me out," Armand said, as Elyn was going to open his mouth. He held his hands up to show there were no weapons, and Rannok relaxed only very slightly. Armand was a rotten liar, but that didn't mean he couldn't lie by omission. 

"You beat my face in, you killed Griffon, and now you expect us to feel sorry for you?" Rannok snorted. He left out the part about Wren, though he could tell by the look on her face that she was holding back tears. Her hands shook visibly and she had one of them clenched around the dagger she'd taken to carrying in her pocket. 

"Calm down," Ittra said. She strode over to Armand and looked him in the eye, then took his face and tilted it to the side. "You got any weapons?"

"No," Armand responded as she let go of him. He took a step back as Rannok took one forward, grabbed his arm, and reached his hand into Armand's pocket. Armand squirmed away from him as he checked the rest of the places he might hide a blade or a firework or anything else that might be meant to hurt him.

"Stop that," Ittra said. She gave Rannok a hard look, and he let go of Armand's arm. Ittra walked around him slowly, like a cat, or a very wise owl. "So Jonah kicked you out and you decided to come here. There's no reason to think we might help you of our own accord...that means you know something. Spill it."

Rannok tried to quiet the rage he could feel growing in his chest. He wanted to grab Ittra by the shoulders and shake her. He could remember the look in her eyes when she apologized, when she'd said she was truly sorry that he'd gotten his face turned into mincemeat. Now he wondered whether she actually meant it, or if she'd said it just for show. 

"I know where Seltus is keeping the prostitutes," Armand said. 

"Make him leave." Wren's voice was quiet as she said it, so quiet he nearly didn't hear. Her face had gone so red it was nearly purple and she'd clenched her hands around her cloak to stop them from shaking. He wanted to reach out to her, but he knew it wouldn't help. Instead she'd turn the anger back on him, and they'd be right back where they started, like an overly-reactive dog.

"Wren, maybe he--" Rannok said.

"I said make him leave!" she spat, louder this time. "Get him out of here before I cut his throat."

Rannok put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and stood up. She stalked toward him, dagger barely hidden in her palm, and pinned him up against the wall. Her dagger was at his throat before he could stop her.

"Wren, control yourself!" Ittra shouted, and she grabbed at Wren's cloak, but Wren shrugged her off. Rannok debated what to do. He could grab her, and haul her off him, but the dagger in her hand made him shudder.

"Tell me where she is, and then get out of here," she growled. 

"Wren," Rannok said. She didn't move. He could see the angry tears rolling down her face and he reached out to grab her arm.

"Don't touch me," she said. She jerked her arm out of the way and shoved the dagger harder into Armand's throat.His eyes were pinpricks of fear as he stared at Rannok, too terrified to say anything. Rannok's heart jumped into his throat.

"Wren."

She said nothing in response. He watched Armand's throat bob as he swallowed, head turned up against the wall by the dagger and her arm. Rannok looked toward Ittra. Her mouth was open, pursed in a small 'o', like she was at a loss for anything to say that might help. Anything that would stop Wren before she killed him. 

She wheeled her hand back. Rannok winced at the sound of it cracking across his jaw. He looked at Ittra, praying that she would have some solution. Ittra glanced at Rannok, then at Wren, then back again. For a few moments, he didn't know what she was saying. Ittra pointed at her hand and something clicked. Rannok nodded. Ittra took a step forward,took Wren's hand, and pried the dagger from it. Rannok grabbed her by both wings and pried her off him.

"Let go of me!" 

Wren's shrieks were piercing, and her face was stained with tears. She kicked out at him and she threw her as gently as he could to the corner of the room, then pinned her wrists with his hands. 

"You need to stop," he said. She shot him a look that made him wither, and it very nearly broke him. He knew how this was going to end. She'd give up, and then she'd be angry, but the look wouldn't fade until far after that. He couldn't blame her. Nothing sounded more satisfying than punching Armand across the jaw.

She let out a heaving sigh, then collapsed against the wall, not looking at him. She nodded and he let go of her wrists. She struggled to her feet, arms folded, and leaned against the back wall. Rannok turned his attention to Armand, who rubbed the shallow cut under his jaw and glared back at him like fire. The area by his ear was red from the force of his punch. It made Rannok shudder. 

"I'm sorry about what happened with the sellswords. If they knew, they would have killed both of us."

Rannok nodded, even though it wasn't an excuse. There would never be an adequate excuse for what happened, not one that would make up for the split lip and the nightmares and the ache that still radiated through his ribcage. 

Ittra shook her head and clucked her tongue.

"Children, all of you. You should be ashamed of yourselves." She shot a look at Wren, who shrank down into the wall. Rannok's heart broke for her. He couldn't imagine how hard it was to lose your family and then lose your friends in the space of a month. He'd just gotten his back and it hurt plenty enough.

"They're keeping them under the building in the middle of town. I know how to get in, but there are guards. Too many for the four of us. I have an idea, though." 

Ittra's face lit up at the same time as Rannok's sunk. Somehow he already knew that whatever the idea was, it wouldn't be good. It never was, when Armand was involved. He looked toward Wren. She still wouldn't look at him. He just hoped whatever it was, it wouldn't involve her.