"Help me!" the handmaiden screamed again.
Tears streamed down Kestra's cheeks, leaving behind long lines that glistened in the clearstone glow. She closed her eyes as if that would block out the screaming, but didn't try to pull her arms free to cover her ears, like I would have expected. Her muscles had become taut though, and her breathing more irregular than before.
With another scream, Kestra cried, "What are they doing to her?"
"Bring me that dagger," Tenger said.
The handmaiden screamed again, sharp enough to awaken the dead. I wondered if the other servant was dead, the driver.
"Are you monsters?" Kestra yelled. "What you're doing here proves everything we believe about the Coracks is true."
"It is all true. Trust me on that." Tenger leaned forward. "We'll do whatever it takes until you cooperate."
Could I say the same thing? I couldn't help but wonder if we'd crossed a line of our own tonight, becoming the very thing we were fighting against. Kestra's hands were clenched in white-knuckled fists and were visibly shaking. Was this any different than the fear created by Dominion soldiers when they rounded up innocent civilians for half-crimes and demonstrations of Endrick's power?
But Kestra was not an innocent. I had to remember that. She was a tool in a plan. Nothing more.
Kestra's tone went lower, commanding. "Stop this, now."
Tenger stuck out his hand again and the screaming stopped, though the girl's sobs continued, almost as loud. Then his hand returned to Kestra's knee. "You have four days to find the Olden Blade."
"There is no Blade--"
He ignored her. "To get it, I don't care who you lie to, cheat, or harm--in fact, it'd do some good if you caused a little trouble in Highwyn." He smiled at that. She did not. "After the Blade is in my hands, you will be free."
"Free? I'll be killed for betraying Lord Endrick this way."
He didn't even blink. "Well, you can always join the rebellion."
"I'd only do that if it got me closer to a knife and your throat."
Tenger chuckled at that. "You were a child when you left Highwyn. Perhaps after you have a chance to see the Dallisors for who they really are, you will come to the rebellion more willingly. Now do you agree to our plans"--he stuck his hand out the carriage door again--"or shall I let them continue?"
"I'll do what you ask." She lowered her eyes so they wouldn't reveal too much of her thoughts.
Despite the meekness of her voice, I noticed the set of her jaw. Couldn't Tenger see that she was absolutely going to betray us, or worse? I wouldn't say anything in front of her, but Tenger needed to know that she was lying to us.
And scheming. Lookin
g at Tenger, she asked, "In four days, we'll meet here?"
She wanted to know where to send her father's soldiers in four days.
Tenger wasn't that naive. "Not here, my lady. You'll be told where to go once you have the item I want."
"By whom?"
"You were traveling with a handmaiden and a guard. Since we have robbed you of their services, we will replace them." This time he leaned out the door, calling, "Trina, please join us."
Something twisted in my chest, though I didn't let it show. Trina was ... difficult, but in an entirely different way than Kestra seemed to be. Trina had offered Tenger valuable information about this plan a year ago, which was the only reason he had let her join the Coracks. No one else knew what she'd told him, but I'd never cared to find out. My role in this mission was nearly completed.
Thank the heavens for that. I'd joined the Coracks to fight the Dominion, not to threaten and terrify their daughters. Even this daughter.
Trina entered the carriage, having changed from riding breeches into the skirts of a lady, probably one of Kestra's skirts from the trunk at the rear of her carriage. One glance at Kestra and I knew my guess was right. Her cheeks were aflame with anger at seeing her fine skirt on a Corack.
Trina's hair was black and worn loose down her shoulders, unlike Kestra, whose brown hair had been woven into complicated plaits around her head, except for the lock Tenger had cut off as his usual token of victory. Both girls were about the same size, though Kestra's dresses had been fitted perfectly to her curves, and hung a little loose on Trina's straighter frame.
What I noticed most was the difference in their eyes. Trina's were like disks, narrow and sharp, and eager to do damage. There was an intelligence behind Kestra's green eyes, and determination. This wouldn't be nearly as simple as Tenger had thought.