Kalon’s expression darkened, but he kept his composure incredibly well. I was impressed. “Believe it or not, I am not my mother’s appendix. I am my own person. Also, what does the high priestess have to do with any of this?”
“Lady Esme here wants to know what happened to her snake friend. The high priestess, much like the Lord and Lady Supreme, wants this whole business to be wrapped up quickly and without any additional fuss,” the gardener said. “I serve the empire, of course, and therefore I wouldn’t want my allegiance tested or doubted here.”
“Beval, look at me,” I replied, resting one hand on his bony shoulder. “I promise you that neither Lord Visentis nor I will breathe a word of what you tell us. But you cannot live with secrets. Not while I’m around, trying to find out what happened to my friend. If you don’t tell me what you know, if I have to get my truth from someone else, Beval… you won’t like it. Because I’ll be coming back for you, and no one will be able to protect you.”
Instilling fear in people was not my usual approach, but my patience was running thin. The more time that passed after Nethissis’s demise, the higher the odds we wouldn’t catch her killer. Beval was literally obstructing my investigation.
He breathed out, a faint whimper leaving his lips. He’d gotten my message, for sure.
“Milady… I will tell you. I hope you will keep your word.”
“We will both be quiet about your involvement,” Kalon replied. “I have no reason to screw you over, Beval. You’re a bloody gardener. I won’t even remember your name by tomorrow.”
Was that pure elitism or just a ruse to get the guy to talk? I hoped I’d get my answer later, though I was already hoping for the latter. Out of all the people I’d met here on Visio, Kalon was the one I prayed would not end up disappointing me—or worse, betraying me or my people.
“It’s not just the foxes we’ve been having trouble with, lately,” Beval finally spoke. “More than once, I’ve found foreign footprints and broken locks on the garden gates. I’ve seen shadows moving through the hedge maze. I’ve heard whispers… The attempt on Lady Crimson’s life was not the first time I’ve caught glimpses of Darklings in the palace.”
I frowned. “You mean to tell us the Darklings are frequent covert visitors?”
“Most of the time, I think they’re just scouting. Looking for the right entry angles. They know the golden guards’ movements. I warned them several times about Darklings, but they didn’t do much,” Beval explained. “I do know the fiends hang around the gardens a lot. Those of us on the night shift have learned to steer clear of the sections where we spot them. If we leave them be, they leave us be, too.”
Kalon’s jaw was practically dislodged as he listened to Beval.
“What about last night?” I asked the Rimian.
Beval motioned around us. “I saw them here and there, about twenty yards away. ”
My heart stopped for a moment. “Did you see Nethissis with them? My friend?”
“It was too dark, milady,” Beval replied. “But they moved slowly until they got to this bush. Then they ran off and jumped over the fence.”
“Did you see where they came from?” I asked. Tension gathered in my throat like a great ball of fire, threatening to explode and consume me. I needed to keep my wits about me.
Beval nodded slowly. “From the palace. One of the service doors, most likely. They probably had keys or broke the locks. It doesn’t really matter. If they want to get in, they get in.”
“Why didn’t you tell the golden guards about this?” Kalon demanded, a muscle ticking angrily in his jaw. A five o’clock shadow was growing, accentuating the sharp line of his high cheeks.
“I don’t know, milord. I worry some of them might be friends with the Darklings,” Beval whispered. “It’s why I fear for my life. Why I stay quiet.”
“You know, it makes sense. After all, the Darkling we captured was a golden guard,” I said to Kalon, keeping my voice down. I couldn’t risk any of the soldiers overhearing us from behind. The discovery had been confirmed earlier this morning, but given Nethissis’s death, I’d not had the time or energy to properly take that in. By this point, though, it was a plain fact—something we had to deal with. “I can see why Beval would be afraid to tell them what he saw.”
Kalon ran a hand through his silver-streaked hair, once again looking behind him. The guards were still watching us, but they hadn’t moved an inch. He smiled, then turned his attention back to Beval. “You’re safe with us,” he whispered. “If there are traitors in golden armor, I promise you we’ll get them all, Beval.”
The Rimian’s shoulders dropped, as if a huge weight had been lifted off him. “There is something more you should know, milord,” he murmured. “There’s word among the Rimians here in the capital that some of us have formed a faction. The Red Threads, they call themselves.”
“What do they have to do with Nethissis’s murder?” I asked.
Around us, the daytime gardeners were busy trimming the hedges, their shears cutting and snipping as they made their way through the central maze, toward the main fountain. I could hear the water trickling into its base vessel. A rushing sound that soothed my senses.
“They’re trying to make contact with the Darklings,” Beval said. “I don’t know any of them personally, but the rumor is they want to help them. They’re anarchists.”
Kalon was unsettled by this revelation, and he made zero effort to hide his reaction. “Are they crazy? Why would they want to do such a thing?” he replied. “Anarchy is the one thing that none of the Rimians and Naloreans should be looking for. They’ll be the ones to suffer the most if the empire falls.”
Beval nodded. “I know, milord. It’s why I’ve kept my distance. But that’s not the most troubling aspect of the Red Threads. I heard a whisper that Trev Blayne is one of them.”
“Where did you hear that? Who told you?” Kalon hissed, his brow furrowed. I could almost feel the anger coming off him in smoky waves. It made my skin tingle. There were many sides to him, and I was willing to bet that the worst had yet to reveal itself. What would an out-of-control Kalon Visentis look like?
“I swear, milord, it was just a whisper in a tavern. It was a busy night, a couple of weeks ago,” Beval said, somehow shrinking before our very eyes. The Kalon effect was clearly powerful.
I took my hand off Beval and smiled briefly. “Thank you for this information. You should get home now, before anyone thinks our conversation is downright riveting.”
The Rimian gave us one last bow and scurried away, slipping through one of the garden’s service gates and leaving Kalon and me standing, somewhat dumbfounded, right next to where we’d found Nethissis’s body.
A few minutes passed in deafening silence as Kalon tried to process what he’d been told. He seemed incredulous, unwilling to believe that his friend might be in cahoots with the Darklings, the very people who’d tried to kill Valaine. To be fair, it did make me wonder, as well. What would his motivation have been?
“Are you okay?” I asked Kalon.
He nodded once. “At least we know for a fact that Nethissis was murdered,” he said. “If the shadows Beval saw were moving slowly until they got here, then ran off, they could’ve been carrying her body. Besides, two other gardeners have already confirmed that the foxes don’t snap necks like that.”
My stomach clenched, anxiousness coursing through my veins, sharper and hotter than any other emotion that had tried me over the past couple of hours. But Kalon was right. At least we knew for a fact that Nethissis had been killed. By the Darklings, most likely.
“What would the Darklings want with her?” I asked, and Kalon shrugged.
“I don’t know. But you can’t mention any of this to the Lord and Lady Supreme. Not to the master commander, either. None of the higher ranks of Visio, for that matter,” he replied firmly. “Ideally, we should keep this to ourselves until we learn more. Maybe wait a little while longer before we tell Valaine and Tristan. I’d like to see what information they come up with, as well.”
“That sounds reasonable,” I said. “What about Trev? The Red Threads? It’s all new to me.”
The corner of his mouth turned into a sad, slight fraction of a smile. “It’s new to me, too, Esme. I’ve known Trev since he was a kid, fresh out of Rimia. He grew up with us, in my family. I find it hard to believe he’d work against us.”
