The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 77: Sunrise on the Mitrove

Yo, we're at chapter 77! That's... too long. that's too many chapters. why am i like this.

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I pinned my braid up in a coil, trying to put myself in the right mindset as Joshua and I stood on the docks and looked out at the awakening ships. The sunrise was all yellow and pink over the water, deceptively soft. 

"Right. So. I have a list of things I need to do in the capital."

"We're going to assassinate a diplomat, not shop at the market," Joshua reminded me. He'd been antsy, shifting his weight from one leg to another, ever since he told me about Iso the night before.

I rolled my eyes. "Did I ask for your input? I'm a busy thief. And I want to talk to some of my old friends in the city."

"You want to interrogate the capital branch of the Phoenix to see if they had anything to do with Jaden's accident," he translated.

"That's basically what I said, captain."

He shuddered. "No. No more. Don't even joke. Do you know how long I hated that title?"

He did seem truly disgusted by it. I would have wondered how he'd born it for so long, pretended to be proud of it for so long, if he hadn't already proved himself far too good of an actor. "Relax. I meant captain of our ship. Or do you want me to make my first solo trip?"

"Solo trip? Even if you were steering I'd still be there."

"Not after I tossed you overboard."

He groaned, following me to the mail boat Roman had... acquisitioned. Illegally. I couldn't pretend I wasn't impressed when I'd heard. Even I had never stolen an entire boat, though I certainly planned to try now that I had been outdone.

"Alright," Joshua said, jumping aboard. "So, I'll find out the best way to corner Iso while you deal with the rebels. The next day, we'll—"

"Also," I cut in, "I have to talk to Nemia, which I'd better do before the cornering, in case we have to escape quickly."

"You want her to come to the rebels?" He guessed, and then frowned. "I mean... I have no stock in the rebels. I don't care or anything. But don't they sort of want to wield her as the ultimate weapon?"

"Yes." I was happy to hear him phrase it that way, pointing out how ridiculous it was. It was as if no one else in Maenar had realized how annoying the rebels' plans for Nemia were. "Yes, they do, but I won't let them. Anyway, she may not want to come. I just thought I should offer to take her, now that I have stuff mostly sorted out here." And if knowing Irina was all but courting her had spurred that decision, well... that didn't mean it was the wrong one. Maybe I should have asked her to come with me from the beginning. Maybe Nemia would want to come with me. I wanted her to want to.

Joshua shrugged. "Well, it will be hard to keep Ysmay's hands off her once she's here, you know. And Roman won't let it her into the court the way he let you in."

I hadn't planned on Nemia entering the court, but I was surprised to hear that. "She's the Assassin. How could he not?"

"Roman would just rather that she stayed on the sidelines. The prophecy stuff bothers him."

I dropped the rope I had been hauling up. "You know about the prophecy? You guys aren't supposed to know about that!"

Joshua blinked. "Oh. Yeah. No, apparently Roman found out a few days ago. Caer let it slip during a questioning session."

"Caer knows? Does all of Solangia know?" I couldn't believe this. What happened to keeping secrets?

"No. Just... all of Maenar."

"And now Roman's bothered by it. Fantastic. Why is he bothered? It either means that Nemia will kill the king, which would be good for Roman, or that the king of assassins will become king, which would be even better for Roman."

Joshua picked up the abandoned rope, slinging it over his shoulder. "Missing one interpretation there, aren't you?"

I ticked off my fingers. "Hm... dead king, or king Roman. No, I covered both of them."

"What about 'the assassin will kill the king of assassins'?"

I gaped. "Ysmay didn't say that was an option."

"Morane, these people are going off a bunch of words they barely heard that definitely included several iterations of 'king', 'assassin', and 'kill'. If any way of arranging the words is a possibility for what the prophecy meant, why isn't the idea that Nemia might kill Roman a viable possibility?"

"Well...." I searched for an excuse. "Nemia would never kill anyone."

"Ah, and that's an even better reason not to let her into the court. So you see, it all works out." He smiled cheerfully. I still wasn't used to him doing that. The upcoming assassination must have put him in a good mood.

I gave up. "Fine. I don't want Nemia in your court anyway. You're bad influences."

"You're part of the court."

"That just proves my point."

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Just a few hours ahead of Morane and Joshua on the route to the capital, Caer's small boat was swept along the Mitrove, carrying only him and a few snatched provisions. He felt half-dead from exhaustion, and still weak from his imprisonment, but he knew Roman's reach stretched wide. The farther he flew, the quicker he ran, the safer he'd be.

The sunrise was just brightening the gray waters and cutting into his exhaustion. He ripped another chunk of half-stale bread off and chewed it resolutely. If he could stay awake the entire day, until it was dark again, he would let himself pull up at a town and find a safe place to sleep. By then he wouldn't be far from the capital.

But it was a challenge. He wanted to curl up on the floor of the boat and sleep now. Would have, if he didn't need to keep his wits about him.

Until the end of the day, he promised himself. And soon he'd be home. He touched the lock picks in his pocket and they seemed to warm against his skin. Proof that Morane wasn't against them. That would make Magali happy, and made him more cheerful in turn.

It was almost enough to keep him from worrying over his slip up. Telling Roman about the prophecy... it had seemed like a good idea at the time. He'd been told they would stop questioning him for the day, let him sleep and give him an extra meal, if he told them one royal secret. He needed strength, he'd reasoned, if he was so find a way to escape. So he tried to think of one thing, one secret that would sound important without being dangerous to tell them.

The prophecy. If the rebels knew the prophecy, and the assassins were now allied with the rebels, Roman would learn about it eventually. Why shouldn't Caer tell him first, and get his meal?

But now he worried. Maybe the rebels never planned to tell Roman the prophecy — in fact, he was sure they didn't — and would have been closed-lipped enough to keep him from finding out. In that case, Caer really had given that dangerous, awful man important information he wouldn't otherwise have known.

Which, well... crap.

This could change the entire game. It might splinter the assassins from the rebels if Roman decided to pursue the throne, which might not be bad... but Roman was smart, he wouldn't throw away an alliance when he knew he'd need them to have a shot at power, so it might have no affect on the alliance while making Roman a more determined enemy. And information was slippery; it might change things in other ways he couldn't foresee.

Some spymaster he'd turned out to be.

He groaned, then scooped river water up with his hands and poured it over his head. The cold helped him wake a little more, and he shook away his dread. One worry at a time. He was going back home. Back to Magali. They would figure out what came next together.

And if Caer's slip with the prophecy would have unintended consequences, ones neither he nor Roman could have predicted or intended, well then... that was for the coming days to show.

For now, a liar, a traitor, and an assassin sailed on into the sunrise as a new day broke.