Rebecka Evertrue's Arc

Chapter 50 of 66

Rebecka came back down through the slot with the kitten still purring under her jacket. The spring was safe. The drover was dead. But the woman on the coast road was riding fast, and three bound refugees in the front chamber still knew things Rebecka did not. She had hours until dawn and no map of what was coming. Marcus stood at the arch with an arrow nocked. The three traitors sat against the wall, wrists cord-bound, eyes low. He gave her one flat look. "They won't talk," he said. "I asked twice." "I know." "Third time won't help." She crouched in front of the oldest of the three, a lean man with a split lip. "How many riders. What roads. What signal." He stared at the floor. She tried the woman next. Then the boy. Nothing. The kitten stayed silent in her jacket, which told her only what she already knew. All three were guilty. None were speaking. Katia came to the arch with a small vial. The liquid inside caught the lamp and held it, gold layered under a thin blue line. "Your grandmother left this in the cabinet with the bread." "What does it do." "Three drops on the tongue. They will answer what you ask. Only what you ask. It costs them a day of sleep and it costs you an honest question." Rebecka took the vial. "Meaning." "Meaning ask what you need. Not what you want." Marcus lowered the bow. "Do it." She tipped the man's chin up and put three drops on his tongue. His eyes glazed. She asked the plain questions. How many. What roads. What signal. The answers came in a dull, even voice, like a man reading a list he did not care about. Four more on the coast-road woman's payroll. Two riding with her tonight. One waiting at the milestone with fresh horses. The signal was a single lamp lit in the north window of an empty shepherd's hut on the ridge road. If the lamp went dark before the moon crossed the notch, the woman would turn back and try again in a week. Rebecka gave the drops to the other two. Their answers matched. No one lied under the gold. She corked the vial and gave it to Katia. Two swallows left. "Marcus. The hut on the ridge road. I need the lamp out before moonset." "Go." He was already pulling a potion off his belt. "I hold here." She looked at the three bound figures. The boy had started to cry. "They stay tied," she said. "They stay alive." Marcus nodded once. She took six arrows and the compass and stepped back into the cold. She knew the count now. She knew the road. She knew the lamp. The woman on the coast road was still coming, but she was coming toward a trap Rebecka could set.