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“Lies,” my accuser says in the gruff voice that feels even more wrong with each word it speaks. “She’s an excellent pretender. You can’t believe anything that comes out of her mouth.”
What rot. Go on and simper like you’re shocked by his claims.
My body balks. I can’t shake the sense that me simpering would come across just as fake as my opponent’s gruffness.
There are other ways to show I have nothing to hide.
I set my hands on my hips and hold my voice steady. “Has my accuser brought any proof? As far as I can tell,he’sthe liar. He must think he has something to gain by turning you against me.”
“I heard her,” the shrouded figure insists. “I heard her plotting with that lout of a failed general she works for, talking about how they’d bring the Crown’s Watch down on you all.”
He flicks his hand beneath his concealing robe, and the fragments of recognition crash together with a sickening certainty.
His gruff tone faltered with the urgency of that last claim, more of his natural voice coming through. And something about his flippant phrasing, about the gesture he just made…
Is thatBenedikthiding beneath the shroud?
I try not to react, but I have to stiffen against the cold rush of nausea that floods my body.
What would he be doing out here? Why would he—?
The scourge sorcerers are waiting for my answer. Maybe I’m mistaken.
I wrench my scattered mind back to the most vital matter at hand and manage to let out a snort. “I can barely stand to discuss the weather with my employer, let alone get involved in some ridiculous scheme. I accepted your invitation to discover what more I could be in this world partly for a chance to getawayfrom that man.”
Ivy… I don’t know…Julita squirms inside my skull, but she must realize I’ve decided to ignore her advice.
She’s guided me well so far, but I’m the con artist between us. I’ve handled tricky situations with everyone from the lowest street rats to the highest nobility.
If I’m going to get through this mess, and without my magic tearing me and who knows what else apart, it has to be my way.
The figure who might be Ster. Torstem crosses his arms over his chest with a ripple of his shroud. “Weareonly going by hearsay.”
He turns his head toward the man I don’t want to believe is Benedikt. “And you did have a motive. You were trying to make up for your failure tonight.”
His failure? At one of the initiation tasks?
Since when was Benedikt even aiming to get recruited? That was my job.
I want to think that means I was wrong, but with my accuser’s next protest, even more of his familiar voice, taut with strain, shows through. “If I were making this all up, how would I have known she’s been sneaking out here in the first place?”
My stomach has tied itself in a dozen knots, but I can put on an even better performance than he probably expects.
I roll my eyes skyward and let a sneer creep into my voice. “I can’t imagine it’d be all that difficult if you know what to look for. What, were you watching the woods every night to see who’d sneak out here so you’d have someone to point a finger at ifyourloyalty was too shaky to keep up?”
Make the scourge sorcerers see him as the potential traitor. Take the heat off me and aim it back at him.
A sour tang of bile creeps up the back of my throat, but I don’t know what else to do.
And if that’s Benedikt, then heisa traitor. To me, to Stavros, to Julita—to everything we were supposed to be working toward.
“You questionmyloyalty,” he starts to sputter, but I’m ready for him. Ready to fight.
I fix him with a glare. “I do. How selfish can you be to try to compensate for your own weaknesses by dragging someone else down with you? Someone who actually wants to see the All-Giver return and create a world the Great God would be proud of.”
I sense a shifting in the circle of figures around me. I’m sowing doubt in their heads.
One thing Julita’s made more than clear to me is how arrogant the scourge sorcerers are. They think they deserve greater power than anyone else; they think they have some special calling.
