Dreamstrider by Lindsay Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

flustered, too, in the heat rash rising on his neck, but thankfully he’s facing them dead on.
    The man, Marez, steps forward. “All right, Minister, you promised to share the details your source knows regarding the Commandant’s battle plans. Will you finally deign to regale us? Did your dreams deem today auspicious enough for you to share?” He looks at Kriza, and they share a brittle laugh. “Your councils and ministries have already picked our agreement to death like rabid dogs over a kill. I think it’s time we heard this report.”
    Minister Durst nods toward me. “Silke, my dear? Summarize the operatives’ reports from their expedition into the Land of the Iron Winds last month—the details of the Commandant’s battle plans.”
    Of course, he means Brandt’s and my expedition yesterday . He must have told the Farthingers that we’d already confirmed similar information to what they shared. I’m shaking as I bow low and clear my throat. I wish I could say it was part of my act as the nervous secretary, but I am no Brandt. “They were able to glimpse battle plans drawn up by the Commandant and General Cold Sun that indicated a direct attack on Barstadt City, via the harbor.”
    Minister Durst nods, his gaze somewhere beyond my shoulder. Neither of the Farthingers reveal any surprise or concern. Their gaze is far too flinty for my comfort.
    “Based on the arrangement of troops, we believe that the Commandant has secured assistance from someone on the inside—someone within Barstadt City,” I continue, though I omit that the traitor is likely an aristocratic woman.
    “That’s a very interesting assessment,” Marez says, turning toward me with a strange glint in his gaze. “How would you characterize the potential traitor?”
    I glance toward Minister Durst; he gives me a slight nod to continue. “Well, the reports indicate—”
    “No, I’m not asking about reports.” Marez takes a step toward me, dark eyes glinting. “I’m asking for your opinion.”
    My whole body is trembling like pickled jelly. I imagine Brandt on the other side of the false mirror; I try to summon the quick wit he would use in this situation. But nothing comes. “Well.” I smooth down the skirts of my gown, then force myself to look at the Farthingers. “It could be an aristocrat, dissatisfied with their station and aspiring toward the throne. Or it could be a disgruntled crime boss looking to strike back at the Empire for some transgression.”
    Marez holds my gaze with an iron grip. I feel as if he could slice through my flimsy role in an instant, if he so wished; the prospect puts ice in my veins, even as my face heats from his stare.
    “That’s very astute of you,” Marez says at last, breaking the gaze. I slump forward as he turns to Durst, still playing with that curl. “I wonder if your secretary isn’t cut out for field work herself someday. Or is it against imperial code to send women out as spies?”
    “We prefer to avoid subjecting our ladies to the dangers of field work, except when absolutely necessary,” Durst replies.
    “That’s a pity. There’s so much more to our work than playing a harlot for a bit of pillow talk.” Kriza steps toward me and brushes my hair back from my shoulder. Dreamer, but these Farthingers are bold! “I expect you’re made of more steel than your minister would give you credit for.”
    I grit my teeth. “I’m perfectly happy with my duties as they are.” But Marez is smiling at me as if in approval, and warmth surges up my spine.
    “Your secretary is correct about the potential traitors within your city walls.” Marez turns back to Minister Durst. “We heard scattered reports indicating similar activity, though you must understand I cannot fully reveal how we came across this knowledge.”
    “Of course,” Durst says coolly.
    “Someone who owns a vessel in these docks—” Marez gestures at the map of the Central Realms on the wall, pinpointing an aristocratic