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Ellory grimaced. “Damaris was going to be the last. I’d promised myself. But don’t shame me for doing what I must to survive. I’d think you, of all people, would understand.”
“Too well.” Again, Verve peered within Ellory’s heart. Not too deeply, but enough to get a better sense of the mage’s guilt and despair, to understand how both gnawed at her spirit. She didn’t expect to be slapped in the face by a sense of loneliness so strong it made her eyes sting.
With effort, Verve forced her voice to be somewhat normal. “By helping me destroy the Chosen’s leader, you’re helping other mages. Helping, not hurting. This is your chance to set things right.”
Ellory’s jaw tensed, and she stared into the fire. “Nothing will ever do that.”
Let it flow.
Verve nodded. “Then this will be a good start. And…” A memory of Ivet’s comforting embrace made Verve’s throat swell, and her stupid soft heart ached at the loneliness pouring off of Ellory. “And after this is done and Danya’s truly gone, there’s a place for you in Lotis. If you want.”
“Are you serious?” Ellory breathed.
“I am.” Verve stroked the scarf around her hair. Somewhere, she hoped Ivet was smiling. “Favor or not, I can’t make you do anything. This is all your choice. Say the word, and we’ll part ways. Forever.”
They stared at each other until Ellory exhaled and slumped forward. “Fine. I’ll help you.”
“Great.” Verve poked at the turkey again. Perfect. She carved off a piece for herself, then offered her dagger to Ellory, hilt-first. “Hungry?”
* * *
At dawn on the third day after the attack on Lotis, Verve and Ellory reached the meeting place from the Chosen’s note: a broad clearing deep in the pine woods. The clearing sat beside a tributary of the White River; this branch lay in isolated terrain, only near the ospreys and otters.
And mosquitoes.
A tiny, high-pitched buzz sounded in Verve’s ear. Crossbow in one hand, she clumsily slapped the insect away, but a dozen more took its place. Grimacing, Verve slathered on the last of her neem oil. The sharp, musky citrus scent made her eyes water, but the mosquitoes retreated.
Beside her, Ellory covered her nose with her “bound” hands as she sneezed. “Seren’s light, what in the blazing void is that?”
“Pest repellent,” Verve replied.
“It’s foul.”
Verve winked at her. “Must be working.”
“I’m more than happy to leave,” Ellory grumbled. “I’m not a fan of hematite chains.”
“Oh, they’re not even locked. You can break out the second you want to. But for now, stick to the plan.”
Ellory swore beneath her breath, adding a curse or two aimed at Verve.
But Verve ignored her and extended her senses. Besides the mosquitoes, few living creatures inhabited this area. The vague, familiar presence she’d sensed before remained; she was starting to wish it was a figment of her imagination. But that presence wasn’t much of a concern, for a much greater threat was much closer to hand.
Danya.
Verve and Ellory came over a small hill and found their target. The priest stood just across the tributary, on a blackened patch of ground where all the scrub brush had recently been burned clean away. No trees hung over her head, and a nearby pile of newly felled trunks and branches created a makeshift wall behind her — close enough to cover their backs, but not close enough to trap them within a wall of fire should a mage get any funny ideas. Someone had scattered buckets of water and sand all around to further put out any fires.
Of course, Danya wasn’t alone. She stood at the center of about a dozen of her Chosen, her white and black Circle priest cloak stark against the green forest backdrop. The Chosen’s hematite gear created a dark-gray wall around the priest, protecting her better than any blade could. Usko stood just behind Danya, at her right shoulder — a place of high honor.
The place Verve had once claimed.
Usko’s face was expressionless. All the Chosen’s faces were blank — as they’d been taught from their earliest days in Atal’s service. But while their expressions gave nothing away, their hearts were sharp with fury, edged with bitterness at Verve’s betrayal.
Knots tightened in Verve’s stomach, but she held her head high. Beside her, Ellory muttered a curse, adding, “You didn’t mention the priest would have a whole sodding army.”
“Not an army,” Verve replied. “A family.” And she’d left them.
Her plan, once sharp and clear as a blade, now seemed blurry — and beyond foolhardy. Even she and Ellory together were no match for so many skilled fighters — even if she’d wanted to fight any of her fellow Chosen.
