The meeting place was an old tea house in the Merchant Quarter. Too public for an outright assassination, but too controlled for me to expect it was safe.
Perfect.
I arrived an hour early, watching from the shadowed balcony of a nearby warehouse. The street below was quiet except for the occasional rattle of a cart wheel on cobblestone. Two men in gray cloaks loitered outside the tea house—guards, pretending to be disinterested. A third was inside, visible through the front window, sipping tea while his eyes scanned the room like a hawk.
Dareth wasn't taking chances.
When the appointed time drew near, I left the balcony and moved through the alleys, looping behind the tea house. Ryn's voice echoed in my head from earlier: Make him think you're alone.
She was half right. I was alone—but only in plain sight.
I stepped through the front door, the faint aroma of jasmine and sandalwood curling in the air. The proprietor didn't look up from polishing the counter. Every other table was empty except one in the far corner.
Dareth sat there.
He was older than I expected—gray streaks in his slicked-back hair, deep lines carved into his face. But his eyes were sharp, assessing me with the same quiet intensity I'd seen in Aric. His clothing was immaculate: deep green robes lined with gold thread, a ring of black jade on his left hand.
"Kael," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Please."
I sat without touching the cup of tea waiting for me.
"I hear you've been… busy," he said. "Pier Eleven. My cargo."
"Your slaves," I corrected.
His lips curved slightly. "Merchandise. The distinction is legal, even if you choose to moralize."
"You don't want to discuss morality with me, Councilor."
He chuckled. "No, I don't. What I want is to understand why you've decided to involve yourself in my affairs. You're a new player, Kael. You could have built quietly, stayed under the Council's notice. Instead, you've set fire to my dock and thrown my name into a public feud."
"That was the point."
His eyes narrowed. "Why?"
I leaned forward, keeping my voice low. "Because I wanted your attention. And because I know who you answer to."
He studied me for a long moment. "Aric."
I didn't respond. The silence was answer enough.
Dareth's expression didn't change, but his fingers tapped once against the table. "If you believe confronting me will bring you closer to him, you are mistaken. The Council protects its own."
"The Council protects itself," I said. "People like you are just tools. Aric will use you until you're dull, then replace you."
A flicker of irritation crossed his face. "You speak boldly for a C-rank."
I smiled faintly. "You think rank measures danger? Ask your men on Pier Eleven."
That got a reaction—a slight tightening around his eyes.
"You've made an enemy, Kael," he said finally. "But enemies can be… useful. You want to survive in this city? You don't fight the Council head-on. You work within it. I could make that happen for you. Connections. Contracts. Power."
I let the offer hang in the air, then shook my head. "I'm not here to be your pawn."
He sighed, as if disappointed. "Then you'll be a problem. And problems are removed."
His hand twitched, a signal.
The man at the front table rose, reaching beneath his cloak. Two more figures emerged from the side hallway—silent, moving like predators.
I didn't move.
The tea house door slammed open. Ryn stepped inside, a throwing knife already in her hand. Loran followed through the back door, blade drawn.
The tension in the room snapped.
Dareth's gaze flicked between us, measuring the odds. "So you didn't come alone after all."
"I said I wouldn't be your pawn," I said, rising. "I didn't say I'd play fair."
He smiled thinly. "You're clever. That will make crushing you more satisfying."
I leaned closer, just enough that only he could hear me. "If you want to try, you'd better hurry. The things I know about your auction business—what I could tell the Guild, the Watch, even the other Councilors—might spread faster than you can clean up the mess."
That got his attention. His jaw clenched, the first real crack in his composure.
I straightened. "This is your only warning. Keep your Hunters away from me, or I burn you from the inside out."
For a heartbeat, we just stared at each other. Then he gave a short, humorless laugh.
"You think you can threaten me and walk out of here?"
I shrugged. "You're not stupid enough to kill me in public. Not yet."
We turned and left, the guards stepping aside as if unsure whether they'd been dismissed or spared.
Outside, the air felt sharper, cleaner.
Ryn fell into step beside me. "That looked like it went well."
"It went exactly how I wanted," I said. "Now Dareth knows I'm not afraid to hit him—and that I'm closer to Aric than he thought."
Loran's voice was low. "He's going to hit back."
"Good," I said. "That's when we take something bigger."