him dead to persuade Grimsen to make him his own crown of Elfhame. And that is what I came to tell the High King. I would have told you first, but I couldn’t get to the Court of Shadows.”
The Bomb and the Roach share a disbelieving look.
“If I was really glamoured, would I have told you any of that?”
“Probably not,” says the Bomb. “But it would make for a quite clever piece of misdirection.”
“I can’t be glamoured,” I admit. “It’s part of a bargain I made with Prince Dain, in exchange for my service as a spy.”
The Roach’s eyebrows go up. Hann gives me a sharp look, as though sure anything to do with Dain can’t be good. Or perhaps he’s just surprised that I have yet another secret.
“I wondered what he gave you to make you throw in your lot with us ne’er-do-wells,” the Bomb says.
“Most
