Really? I was trapped under the ground with a bunch of so-called “holy paladins” who had just tried to holy their way into killing me, and he figured the best way to deal with that was to tell me stories of misery and death? Wonderful.
I already told you I’d just as happily possess one of them.
I gritted my jaw.
I kept hold of the last man and with all our strength we rowed for shore, and when — after a very long time — we made it off the ever-rolling sea, he’d found he had such a taste for the dead that I —
Enough. Enough. Perhaps I couldn’t cast him out, but I could make his existence miserable if he did not cease.
How would you do that?
I’d recite the catechism in my mind from dawn to dusk, as I’m sure the High Saint did already.
I felt the demon shiver. Good.
Look, I’m not saying our situation trapped in a breathtakingly gorgeous dungeon wasn’t terrifying, but I was already in a terrifying situation and I had been since the beggar attacked Sir Branson. Living hour to hour with a bound demon who might just pick his lock and escape was not for those who couldn’t handle their stomachs twisting and their nerves getting a little frayed around the edges.
Now that I had also been singled out and rejected — albeit passively — by most of my brethren, I was in an even more precarious situation.
The causes of these worries were not going away anytime soon. Did my hands shake? I’d simply have to let them keep me sober and focused. Did my belly roll? Not a problem. There was nothing to eat here anyway.
“Look at this diagram here,” Sir Coriand was saying, but my mind was not on the books.
My eyes dragged back to Sir Adalbrand again. He wouldn’t let this descend into hell.
We shared a tight look and I felt myself leaning toward him, as if the lodestone were growing stronger. Does fear amplify everything? It certainly seemed to be amplifying it in me. I could only hope it didn’t cloud my judgment.
Hope, unfortunately, was not really my strongest attribute.
Hope in the God, dear girl, and calm yourself. Like unraveling a demon, you must take this one step at a time.
Good advice.
Deliver me from evil, I prayed. Deliver us from evil.
I almost — almost — thought I felt an echo of something in my heart, like a song one remembers but can’t quite recall.
And then Sir Owalan was there.
“The Cup is attainable. Hurry!” He squirmed as he waited for us and I hoped he was right.
Mayhap, once we found it — if we could escape this place — there would be no need to linger. We’d all be free of our orders. I could be rid of those who sought my death and they could be rid of me.
Adalbrand’s hands moved over his straps and buckles as if checking and rechecking as we gulped down what remained of our tea and gathered our things with brisk efficiency.
With my eyes drifting constantly to him, I was too aware of the graceful way his fingers moved as he eased his sword in and out of the scabbard, checking the draw.
“Ready, Lady Paladin?” he murmured to me. He seemed tense; the lines in his face were deeper than I’d seen them before.
I left the books where they sat. No need to carry them around, and the golems could watch over them. One of the golems — Suture — was collecting the wooden cups with the air of a stingy innkeeper.
“I think we should be careful not to split our forces,” Adalbrand said in his lovely, rumbly voice.
I glanced at him, and this time when I smiled, his rueful smile joined mine. It softened him and made him warm and I wanted to uncurl before that warmth and let all my secrets flow free.
So all it takes is pretty smiles and dimples to soften you? I could have offered those instead of terror.
I gritted my teeth. If the demon had nothing useful to contribute, he could go stick his opinions somewhere else. If there was terror to be found down here, it would be me. I would unleash it on anything that came after us.
