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The magic I sensed must be carrying it—disguising the speaker and the direction they’re standing in. I don’t recognize the voice at all.
I’m supposed to be playing the part of a disgruntled but idealistic noblewoman. I draw myself up straighter. “I came as you asked. What did you mean about wanting more from the world?”
The words continue to drift around me as if carried on the breeze. “You can sense that something isn’t quite right, can’t you? The way the kingdom is run, the way we honor our gods.”
I shrug as if I’m being careful about sharing my opinions. “The daimon definitely seemed to feel there’s a problem. I don’t think anyone could argue about that.”
“And would you want to heal the damage that’s been done if you could? If you had the chance to change all of Silana—all of the continent—for the better, would you take it, even if the way was hard?”
Julita lets out a scoffing sound in my head. We know what ways these people have been turning to—and that they’ve been cajoling kids into taking on the real hard parts.
I remain cagey. “I suppose that would depend on what kind of hard you mean. Of course I’d want to serve the godlen as well as I can.”
Wendos thought that what he and his associates were doing was somehow honoring the gods. I’m going to assume that’s a common line of thinking among the conspirators.
They have to justify the horrors they’re committing somehow.
“There are many who’d stand in the way of rebuilding what was lost,” the voice says. “You would need to work against them and risk punishment if you’re found out.”
My brother never trusted anyone—except maybe Wendos, Julita says.I don’t know if you can even dabble in scourge sorcery without getting paranoid. They’ll be suspicious if you give in too easily.
I can believe that.
I cock my head to the side. “Why should I accept thatyouknow what’s right when you won’t even show yourself? I have no idea who you are.”
“We must be cautious if we’re going to succeed. The fate of the world rests on our shoulders. Any indiscretion jeopardizes that goal.”
These murderous psychopaths do think awfully highly of themselves, don’t they?
“How am I supposed to fit in, then?” I demand. “If you’re not going to tell me anything specific, I don’t see how I could help even if I wanted to.”
“Once you’ve earned our trust, we can reveal more. We will give you simple tasks, and if we’re satisfied with the result, you’ll earn more responsibility. Trust can flow both ways.”
How very poetic.
I restrain myself from wrinkling my nose. “I’ll admit I’m intrigued. What do I have to do first to get you to tell me more?”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by the request that follows, knowing what I do.
“Show that you’re willing to give of yourself. There’s a dagger on the ground a few steps ahead of you. Find it, cut your palm, and offer your blood to the All-Giver with whatever prayer feels most fitting to you.”
To the All-Giver, not to the unknown speaker and their fellow conspirators.
I don’t see how that act can hurt anything—other than my hand. “I can do that.”
I feel along the ground until my fingers brush the hilt of the dagger. It’s a small one, the grip barely long enough for me to wrap my whole hand around it.
As I straighten up, I cautiously arch my eyebrow in a silent question. What does Julita think these people would consider an appropriate prayer?
When my invisible companion speaks, her tone is more subdued than usual.Borys and Wendos mostly talked about their own personal power. But sometimes they’d add in something about how they’d use that power to honor the gods.
That gives me a little more material to work with beyond what I heard from Wendos in the tower.
I bring the blade to my right palm, half expecting Julita’s presence to withdraw before she has to experience the pain of blood-letting again. But she remains, the tingle of her presence twitchier than usual but still with me.
Go ahead, she says.I’ll be all right. This is all so we can defeat them in the end.
I drag in a breath and dig the edge of the blade into my skin.
