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But if he’d watched Verve acting friendly with the Lotis villagers, what else had he seen? Her mind raced to the morning she’d met Usko. Sparring with Owen. Her own inattention, and then Alem had…
Shit.
Danya chuckled. “Oh dear, do you think you’ve made friends in that backwater dump?”
“No, serla,” Verve managed. “But I have had to seem friendly to gain their cooperation. As you have taught me.”
She braced herself for another slap, but Danya released her chin. “You care about the rabble there, don’t you? My poor Vervaine,” she sighed. “I have taught you everything you know, therefore I know you better than you know yourself. You cannot hope to fool me.”
No. Danya’s words were wrong. This was all wrong. The truth tore at Verve’s throat, fighting for freedom. “I’m not—”
But Danya continued, heedless of Verve’s protest. “Do you know why you have not found Marea Damaris?”
Oh, this did not bode well. Verve kept her voice as neutral as possible. “Please enlighten me, serla.”
Danya eyed her, searching for sarcasm, but Verve was adept at keeping a straight face — most of the time. At last, Danya said, “Obviously, Damaris is using a false name. That’s the other reason I wanted to speak to you, especially since you refused to take a few minutes and send a letter to let me know your status. How I have fretted this last month! But I have it on good authority that Marea Damaris is even more powerful than we feared — and that their abilities are a far cry from those which were first reported.”
Verve’s heart beat faster in her chest, surely loud enough for Danya to hear. Play dumb, she told herself. Don’t think of Alem. “What do you mean, serla?”
“Marea Damaris is no mere particle mage,” Danya said. “They are dendric. A rare and deadly creature, to be sure. Have you encountered such a moon-blood during your time in Lotis?”
Alem.
Verve’s mouth fell open, but she managed not to spill his secret. No way Usko had gotten a good enough look at Alem’s healing of Owen to understand what he’d seen. She could still find another mage to pass off as Damaris. “I thought dendric mages were just legends.”
Danya waved a hand dismissively, and it took every ounce of Verve’s control not to flinch away. “More mage lies,” Danya replied. “Usko did some scouting over at Mara’s Hope and learned the truth from a merchant: Damaris is a dendric mage living in Lotis. Surely, you’ve encountered them by now?”
Worse and worse. Verve swallowed the bile rising at the back of her throat. “I have encountered some mages. But none have claimed to be Marea Damaris.”
True enough. But Danya knew her too well. Danya always knew when she lied outright.
Indeed, Danya studied her, gaze sharp. “You understand, of course, that if any dendric mage were to be discovered in Lotis, regardless of what name they used, the other Chosen and I would be forced to apprehend the monster — and exterminate anyone found to be in alliance with them. It is the burden of my role in Atal’s world.”
She leaned forward. Verve braced herself, but Danya only patted her shoulder. “The world is cruel, Vervaine, especially for those of us without magic. We are at the moon-bloods’ mercy, and Atal knows they will not show us any. But,” she sighed, “every time I think you’ve learned this lesson, you prove me wrong.”
Verve ducked her head. “I know the world is cruel, serla.”
Too well.
“Aye,” Danya said. “But despite your shortcomings, you have found your true path with me. This life is hard, I know, but you are perfectly suited to it, as if Atal Himself crafted you specifically for these tasks. Don’t you realize that, Vervaine?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “You are a killer, but there are many in this world undeserving of the gift of life. Thus, you are an instrument of Atal — one of His true Chosen.” She beamed at Verve. “This path you are on is the right one for you, the only one. You know that, don’t you?”
The response came without thought, carved as it was into Verve’s deepest self. “Yes, serla.”
Danya smoothed a hand down her immaculate iron-gray hair and smiled again. Why did she get to smile? “My poor girl,” she said as she toyed with one of Verve’s bedraggled braids. “I can see the last month has not been kind to you.”
Verve’s wire bracelet winked in the sunlight. How easy it would be to wrap its length around Danya’s neck, to draw it tighter and tighter, until the Circle priest’s face turned purple, until her eyes bulged and her tongue swelled, and…
More foolish fantasies, best dammed before they flowed too far. Verve’s jaw tightened. “I’m fine, serla.”
“Good. See that you remain so.” Danya folded her hands in her lap. “Usko should have told you I have another job for you? It’s the final portion of your previous mission. You’re to escort our prisoner, the man named Celidon, to a contact of mine to the east, near the White River.”
“The White River?” Verve knew better than to allow shock into her voice, but some things were unavoidable. “That’s Legion’s territory.”
“The region is in dispute,” Danya replied. “But as long as you play your role, Legion will not trouble you on this mission.”
A heavy weight pressed against Verve’s chest, like an urslan had sat upon her. Even deep breaths brought no relief. Legion. The word echoed like drumbeats throughout her whole self.
“My dear child, are you truly frightened?” There was mockery in Danya’s voice, hiding beneath the honey-sweetness. “After all you’ve been through, the very mention of Legion turns you positively gray. Well, you worry for nothing. Just follow my instructions and don’t trouble yourself overmuch about the details.”
