“You really are dense sometimes, Clara,” Elorin says softly. “Did it occur to you at any point that you might have a friend here?”
“I’d hardly call us friends.” Not enemies. Not hostile.Friendly,maybe…But certainly notfriends.
“An ally, then,” she remedies.
“Can I call you that?”
She tilts her head. “Enemies of enemies make for good friends—or allies, if you prefer.”
“You hate the king, too?” I glance between them so it’s clear I’m asking them both.
“I thought that much was obvious.” While it’s true Elorin neverseemed keen to go to Fate Hearth, I didn’t think she was at the point of being ready to take action against our sovereign.
“While I admire King Naethor’s desire for order and honor of tradition”—the Hierophant isn’t endearing himself to me with that admission—“his approach in many areas leaves much to be desired.”
“Lukewarm criticism hardly inspires confidence that you’ll rise to the level of what I need from you.” I lock eyes with him. “If you assumed I was here to kill you, then you know what I need.”
“My silence.” He doesn’t mince words. “My lies when Ravin brings me to Eclipse City.” I nod. “You have my word, it will be done. If you are discovered, it will not be from me.”
I shift, regarding him warily. “Why would I believe it’s that easy?”
“The alternative is you killing me.”
“The alternative is you running to Naethor the second I turn my back and handing him Oricalis’s most wanted.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “You really are a skeptical one.”
“Rightfully so.”
Alphos leans back in his chair, stroking his beard again. “Tell me, what’s your intention, if I don’t turn you in when I ultimately would have the ability to do it?”
I open my mouth, hesitate, and say finally, “I’m making a new world for myself…and my sister.” The second part is far softer than the first. A quiet confession that is still surreal to say out loud. “If King Naethor finds me, he’ll kill me. Ravin already tried.”
“And failed. A feat, when faced with Death itself.”
I stand a bit taller, prouder than I expected at that remark. “My whole life, they’ve destroyed everything. I’ve watched as Oricalis took and took with no repercussions, one thing after another. Every sanctuary I’ve ever had, every love I’ve ever known, tainted or destroyed. I will have no home for myself and those I love unless it’s one I can carve from the clutches of destiny.”
“And what about us?” Alphos gestures to himself and Elorin. “Where do we fit into this new world of yours?”
“I don’t follow.”
A slight, knowing smile. “That was a good answer.”
Oh.“Do you think I’d keep Majors captive as he has?”
“I told you she wasn’t like that,” Elorin says. How much did Elorin tell him about me? Tell all of them? I thought she hardly paid attention to me last year. But her keen eyes missed little.
“Power can easily change the hearts and minds of mortals,” Alphos says gravely to Elorin.
I speak instead: “This won’t change me. My whole life I have resented Oricalis. I won’t suddenly become them.”
Both their eyes return to me, and then to each other one more time. Elorin gives a slight nod. Alphos a soft sigh.
“I’ll give you your time,” he finally says.
Relief tries to course through me. But I’m too cautious to let it overtake my better sense. “How can I trust you? If Ravin or the king finds me, they’ll know what you did, and they’ll kill you for it.”
“They will probably make me wish they killed me.” He’s so calm about it, and there’s a searing urge to correct him—to tell him exactly what they can do, because I’ve seen it written in the scars that line my sister.
