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SCORCHED

CEDRIC

Kit’s sigh pulled Cedric back to the present. “I’ve had enough of this,” she said. “If you won’t⁠—”

“Can’t,” hissed the cultist, still bound to the wooden chair.

“—tell us where the blood king is hiding, then at least tell us what you’re doing out here. Daeglen is little more than a rest stop between Aerithia, Coralith, and the Sacred Mountain. What do sanguinagi cultists want with this tiny wayward village? Why are you here?”

The man spat another mouthful of blood onto the floor, glaring at Cedric. “Maybe if your guard dog hadn’t been so quick to pummel Tyrren into unconsciousness, he could have explained.”

“Guard dog?” Thraigg laughed as he spoke, but there was something surprisingly biting underneath the words. “Who exactly is it ye think ye’ve been talkin’ to all this time?”

“Thraigg,” Cedric said, voice low.

His warning did not deter the dwarf. “The Lord Victor deserves some respect—ye best show it to him.”

The man’s eyes widened, his gaze flicking between Cedric, Thraigg, Nox, Tristan, Kit, Zephyr, and even Sid, comprehension dawning on his face. “Y-you⁠—”

“Yes, yes, I am, in fact, the extremely handsome best friend of the Victor of Havensreach.” Tristan looped an arm around Cedric’s shoulders. “Aren’t you just the luckiest to have met me?”

Cedric ducked out of Tristan’s hold with a roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t deny that the conversational detour had helped clear some of the gloom from his head. “You said Tyrren”—he gestured loosely at the man’s unconscious companion beside him—“could tell us what you’re doing out here, but it is you who has been granted the opportunity to explain.”

Tristan let out a chortle. Thraigg grunted in agreement. The cultist man simply sat there, grinding his teeth.

“Your last chance,” Cedric said icily.

“It’s not so simple.” Bloodshot eyes darted between the entire group, before falling once more on Tyrren. “It’s also not what you think.”

“Tell that to the blood runes we caught you carving into the forest floor,” Kit said with a snort, but Cedric could not ignore the sudden earnestness in the man’s voice, the softening of his expression. It had something that felt uncomfortably close to guilt flaring between the waves of rage roiling in Cedric’s chest.

“We won’t get anywhere with him, Ric. It’s just a deflection.” Kit stretched her arms over her head, stifling a yawn. “He clearly won’t tell us anything, and we’re just wasting time at this point. We still need to go over our rendezvous plans for after we part ways tomorrow.” Frost formed at the tips of her tawny fingers. “Shall we finish this?”

“W-wait,” said the man, squirming against his bindings. “Please, you must understand, when I say that I can’t, I⁠—”

“What is your name?” Cedric asked.

Kit’s mouth popped open—the picture of surprise. Tristan crossed his arms over his chest, questions written across his face as he caught Cedric’s eye.

The man hesitated. “Ignatius,” he finally said.

“Why should we believe you, Ignatius?” asked Cedric.

Several moments of tense silence ticked by. “I lied before,” said Ignatius, blowing out a long, slow breath. “When I said we don’t have anything to do with the Cult of Malakar.”

“Great Gaia’s tits!” exclaimed Thraigg. “Ye don’t say!”

Zephyr clapped her hand over her mouth once more in a failed attempt to prevent a laugh. Tristan and Nox both let out low chuckles.

“Tell us something we don’t already know,” said Kit, rolling her blue and green eyes.

“Neither of us ever wanted any trouble. We thought that volunteering to come here would be the easiest way to guarantee we stayed out of it, in fact.” Ignatius bit his bottom lip. “Sounded like a pretty plum gig, really. Getting to travel the continent with my brother . . .” He tilted his head at Tyrren. “I should’ve known if things sounded too good to be true, they probably were.”

“What was it, exactly, that you volunteered to do?” asked Cedric.

“It was just supposed to be reconnaissance.” Ignatius’s brow furrowed, and sweat began beading at his temples, as though saying the words was taking great effort. “Keep an eye on the mana spring, report back regularly. Outside of that, we were free to do as we pleased.”