He’s pointing to the target, but I get the feeling he’s talking about knowledge as well as knives.
“And you won’t believe the riches and luxuries in the castle. You’ll think you’ve died and gone to the Elysian Fields instead of the Underworld.” Flynn’s deep, animated voice reminds me of a rumble of thunder in the north. Something about him puts me in mind of home—the good parts—even though he’s a southerner to the core. Maybe it’s his size. Everything is big in the north: big lakes, big mountains, big Oracles, big magic. “You can have a room filled with gold furniture, the finest linens, gowns, and feather pillows.” He chuckles. “You can lounge around drinking wine and eating sugared fruit all day long.”
I look up at him, confused. What makes Flynn think I’ll be in the castle when both he and Kato have talked about living in the barracks? Anyway, locked up is locked up, even if it’s in a gilded cage. “The Elysian Fields are reserved for those favored by the Gods, and I refuse to be a drunk with rotten teeth.”
Flynn laughs, smiling broadly before his expression turns unnervingly serious. “You’ll be protected.”
“Protected?” My eyebrows nearly shoot off my head. “Who will protect me from Beta Sinta?”
Flynn’s eyebrows nearly shoot off his head.
“Oh, never mind,” I mutter. “I’ll protect myself.”
He frowns, shaking his shaggy auburn-haired head. “You haven’t realized it yet, but you’re part of Griffin’s team. He won’t let anything happen to you.”
A disconcerting wave of warmth rolls through me. “He’s the problem. And for the rest, he can’t control everything.”
“Don’t tell him that,” Carver says, ambling over. Carver hasn’t shown any interest in target practice. He’s been polishing his sword until the long blade gleams like frost on a frigid dawn.
“Don’t tell him what?” Beta Sinta asks, startling me. The man moves like a shadow, despite his size.
I turn and scowl at him. “That I’m not an actor in your Sintan tragedy.”
He gives me his hard stare, widens his stance, and crosses his arms. Apparently, he’s here to stay.
“If you’re loyal to Griffin,” Flynn says soberly, “he’ll be loyal to you.”
“And what’s more important than loyalty?” My tone mocks Beta Sinta’s at the circus fair.
“Well?” Beta Sinta asks. “What is?”
“Freedom. Choice.” I face the target and throw, hitting the knot again. There are no more knives, so Carver sheathes his sword and goes to retrieve the daggers, returning three to Flynn, three to Kato, and Beta Sinta’s to him. I don’t get to play this time. Maybe Carver’s afraid I’ll stab his brother.
“What are freedom and choice without honor?” Beta Sinta demands.
“What honor is there in keeping me against my will?”
“What honor is there in letting go of an important weapon just because she complains all the time?” he practically snarls.
“I don’t complain all the time!”
His eyes flash silver. “You do!”
My jaw drops, but before I can respond, Kato jumps in. His voice rises, mimicking mine. “I hate this rope. I want bread. There’s no more fruit. It’s too bloody hot. Let me gooooo!”
“That doesn’t sound anything like me!” I punch Kato in the arm. Hard. “And I do hate this rope! And I want bread. And fruit. You people eat meat at every meal, even for breakfast. It’s not normal. And don’t get me started on all that goat cheese!” I make a face because I just can’t help it.
“Cat, you know things, things about Magoi and royals. Things about Giants, and Oracles, and Dragons from the north. Things we know next to nothing about. Plus, there’s your Kingmaker power. You’re very valuable to us.” Beta Sinta flicks his hand toward the birch. “And you’re not bad with a knife.”
Not bad? Not bad! I cross my arms, sullen. “It all comes down to how much use I can be.”
“That’s what it comes down to for everyone. How much use we can be.” Beta Sinta comes toward me until I have to tilt my chin up to look at him or step back, which I refuse to do. His gray eyes are stormy, and a tremor runs through me. It isn’t fear, and it makes me want to squirm.
“I conquered a kingdom and found a treasure.” His voice turns gravelly, low. “I won’t let you go. Not now. Not ever.”
A fluttering stirs deep in my chest. Something new. Something strange. I beat it down and turn, nodding to Flynn to get his daggers ready. “Yeah, I get it. You won’t let me go.” I guess I’ll just have to escape.
So why is some small part of me considering helping these people? Sinta has been both a home and a refuge. I’ve watched Sintan faces split wide with wonder and delight. I’ve given advice and seen what’s in a thousand hearts. Most of it’s not bad. I’ve been protected—by Selena, by loyal friends, by Cerberus guarding our gates, by Poseidon when he feels like it. Most Sintans have no magic and no refuge, and the Magoi royals were like Gods. They maimed, struck, killed, and rewarded at their fancy. Sintans didn’t necessarily live badly, but they lived in fear. The takeover has been a source of new hope. For the first time, a Hoi Polloi family is in charge, and the majority of Sintans think that will be better for them.