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“Home to Tiber, the god of riches,” she said reflexively, remembering scripture.
The gems were marvelous, but Erida was queen of a wealthy kingdom. It was difficult to impress a woman like her with jewels. She straightened, a diamond in her fist, watching Taristan’s face.
When his thin lips spread into a smile’s shadow, she swallowed. “What else?”
“Nothing gets past you,” he replied, taking the jewel from her. His bare skin was already pale, but Erida did not miss the steady spread of white veins in his flesh. They matched those already on his chest, growing and branching, as something grew and branched in him.
His fingers closed, the diamond in his grip. His knuckles went hard and sharp, bones standing out beneath his skin, and the gemstones crumbled to dust, sifting like starlight between his fingers.
This time, he smiled with white teeth, like a predator closing in on a kill.
Her flesh burned when he raised his palm to her face, cupping her cheek. His blood smeared, sticky on her skin, but somehow she didn’t mind.
In the Spindle, something growled.
26
PAIN AND FEAR
Corayne
Sigil rode a horse as a bird flew. Second nature, with incredible, impossible ease. The people of the Temurijon were legendary equestrians, nearly born in the saddle, and Sigil was no exception. Her mount was no steppe pony, but a chestnut hunter, with long legs and a white star down its face.
She kept a rope from the pommel of her saddle attached to Charlie’s, forcing him to keep pace, dragging him along with a grimace. He bounced on his mule like a sack of potatoes, and every time they stopped, he walked gingerly, wincing. Like Corayne, he wasn’t exactly comfortable in the saddle, and Sigil needled him for it. Their relationship was strange, gruff but tolerating, despite Sigil’s endeavors to bring Charlie to execution. Even so, they shared old jokes and even older insults. Clearly she’d been chasing him for a very, very long time.
“I must say, I’m glad to get out of that marsh,” Sigil said, raising her face to the sun as they trotted along a country lane. Freckles dotted her cheeks. She led them southwest, leaving the Adiran mists behind. Though Corayne knew the map as well as anyone, she had no idea where they were going.
Sorasa swayed with the rhythm of her horse, her cowl raised again. “I can’t believe you wasted so many days squatting in the mud, waiting for such a sorry excuse for a bounty,” she said, cutting a glance at Charlie.
Sigil drew herself up proudly. “I’ve never failed to bring a charge to justice.”
Charlie sneered next to her, huffing. “And never failed to collect a blood price.”
“Blood price? Don’t act so moral, Priest,” she shot back, grinning. “I believe one of your charges is murder.”
On his own horse, Andry coughed, doing his best to hide a disapproving grimace.His best isn’t very good,Corayne noted, watching the squire squirm next to her. Dom was stone-faced, trying to hide his own disapproval.You’re surrounded by criminals now, Prince,Corayne thought.
“It was him or me,” Charlie said airily, waving a hand in the air. The movement almost made him slip from the saddle. “Garion of the Amhara taught me well.”
Another Amhara?Before Corayne could open her mouth to ask, Sorasa peered out from her hood, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“I’d say you taught him a few things too,” she wheedled, loosing her sharp, reserved laugh.
Charlie blushed a furious red but laughed with her, the pair exchanging meaningful glances.Another odd history, longer than we know.Corayne couldn’t help but be amused watching them both. They reminded her of theTempestborncrew, a collection of killers and rogues, at home with each other and no less lethal for it.
Craning her neck, the bounty hunter looked back, twisting her body in her leather-bound armor. Her own smile was brittle. “I’m surprised Garion wasn’t waiting in the marshes, same as me. You didn’t exactly make yourself difficult to find.”
His smile disappeared in an instant, replaced with a pained frown. With unsteady motion, he slipped from the saddle, landing hard in the dirt of the road. “I think I’ll walk for a bit,” he grumbled, stumbling on uneasy legs to put some distance between them.
Sigil let him fall back.
“That was unkind,” Sorasa said in a flat voice, without judgment. A simple statement of fact.
Sigil shrugged. “No one pays me to be kind.”
At Corayne’s shoulder, Andry leaned, closing the distance between them. “She might be harsher than Sorasa,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
At the rear of their line, Dom scoffed. “I did not realize there was a competition for worst personality,” he crowed.
