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There was a brief silence as the three of us studied each other Eyes darted from one person to another, assessing the situation.
“Is it someone from the Touch who sent you?” I asked Rowan.
She met my eyes.
“Yes. The Touch insisted that by touching the dart, we would be rid of a dangerous fire stealer who helped the Ninurta rise.”
“Do you still believe that?”
“No,” she sobbed, placing her face in her hands.
We let her weep as her fate crumbled all around her. I should still punish her because her tenacious fanaticism killed my father. She could have continued trying and killed me.
“I know you for what you are now, Your Majesty,” she said, lifting her face to reveal blotchy cheeks and reddened eyes.
“What, then, aside from an evil, hungry god’s minion?” I asked drily.
“You have a green thumb. You were the one who healed the land. I was told you only did that so that you can feed. I know you now for what you are. You are a healer. You healed the land. You healed me, too,” she said. “and made me grow. In wisdom. In power. Maybe, one day, in control.”
Then, she showed me her arm. The burns were gone.
Perhaps I had healed her, but she had not healed the anger and suspicion in my heart. I was still leery of her.
