AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Some help. A fight. Another war on Auverraine’s doorstep, closing them in. But… “How exactly do you think we can explain this?”
Malcolm rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “We’ll work that out when we get there.”
Lore’s jaw clenched. “And the Kirytheans? What are they doing?”
“Nothing, as far as I know,” Alie said. “No one is greatly concerned with them; you leaving is all they want to talk about. Some are putting it together with Amelia’s murder, and some think it might have to do with the boat explosion.” Her green eyes were sympathetic. “The most prevalent rumor right now is that you killed her because you caught her and Bastian together, and he’s railing to get you back so you can face justice.”
Lore barked a laugh. “I guess that’s better than thinking I’m an explosives-happy traitor.”
It shouldn’t surprise her that the situation had twisted like that, the pieces almost truth. She sat down heavily next to Alie and thought of the actual murder she’d committed. It wasn’t likely anyone would discover it for a while, if Gabe was here.
She should tell him. Soon. But not right now.
The clearing of a throat; Michal stood at the edge of the group. He looked extremely out of his element, but also like he’d rather die than admit that. “Well,” he said, “I’m Michal, and I guess I’ll be captaining your boat in a couple hours. The good news is that I’ve beat up Bastian Arceneaux at the boxing ring on more than one occasion, so I’m confident I could do it again if necessary. The bad news is that I doubt I could beat up a god.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The ways of gods will always overcome the ways of men. Do not attempt to understand that which is not for you to know.
—The Book of Holy Law, Tract 864
Two of Val’s crew came by the warehouse—Alie, Malcolm, Gabe, and Lore hid in the back to avoid questions—and got instructions on where the ship was hidden and what needed to be done before it could sail the hundred-plus miles to the Caldienan coast. Mari gave them the rundown. It all sounded like gibberish to Lore, rigging and portside and lots of hoisting. Michal, thankfully, seemed to know what he was doing, so there was one thing going right.
Lore almost wished he didn’t, that she’d have to dedicate a large part of her mind to worrying about running aground or sinking or whatever else one had to worry about on an ocean voyage. It’d give her something to think about other than Bastian, other than the fact that they were all leaving him here alone.
Just like the gods had done to Apollius, so long ago.
Bastian wasn’t the only thought she was trying to avoid. Seeing Val and Mari made her think of Lilia, of the rose she’d thrown down the well. She’d thought she had no hope that help would come from her birth mother, if she was even still alive. But that wasn’t quite true, apparently, because the fact that no help had come, that she was being let down once again, felt like a hole in her stomach.
When the crew was gone and they no longer had to hide, there was nothing more to do than sit. Sit, and wait. It wasn’t a state that their anxious minds were conducive to, so Alie pulled out a pack of cards and tried to teach Lore some complicated game that neither of them had the attention necessary to play, while Gabe paced, and Malcolm and Michal sat on one of the far cots, talking animatedly.
Alie arched a brow in their direction. “Seems like Malcolm will have plenty of distraction on our trip.”
Lore glanced back over her shoulder to where Michal was ogling Malcolm’s scarred arms. “I’ll have to tell Michal about that celibacy vow, even though I’m fairly sure Gabe is the only one who takes it seriously.”
“More like you’ll have to warn him about Malcolm’s endless enthusiasm for discussing old-ass books.” Alie dealt another hand. Lore was pretty sure she was winning, but truly had no idea.
Val herded them all behind the boxes again an hour later, when the crew members came back to report that the ship was… well, shipshape. And moments after that, they were leaving.
Mari pulled Lore into a fierce hug, the sea-glass beads at the ends of her braids clinking musically. “Write to us,” she murmured. “And if you can’t do that, we’ll come to you.”
Lore’s arms tightened around her mother. “Can you not just come now?” Being here always made her revert to her younger self, when fear had always meant trying to keep her mothers close. She hated that she was having to think of that now, wanting to keep them safe from Bastian—from Apollius—but the thought of them staying in Auverraine set cold dread into her middle like a leech on a wound.
“We can’t just leave, mouse,” Mari replied, pulling back to put her warm hands on Lore’s cheeks. “People are counting on us here. And it would look suspicious, for us to leave right after you do.”
He would come to question them. Lore knew it, and she knew Apollius’s modes of questioning would not be kind. “Please, Mari. He’ll know I came to you. He’ll—”
“He’ll ask us where you went. We’ll say we don’t know.” She shrugged, a hard light glinting in her eyes. “That’s the only answer the Sainted King will get, god in his brain or no.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Lore whispered, tears burning at the backs of her eyes.
Mari gently pushed her hair behind her ear. “That’s half of what love is, mouse,” she murmured. “Learning to live with fear. Deciding it’s worth it.”
Lore hugged her again.
Warmth at her back—Val, closing them both in her corded arms. “Love you,” she said, her voice the gruff tone that said she was feeling far more emotions than she wanted to show. “Write us. We’re coming there when we can, either way.”
“Once we tie up all the loose ends here,” Mari agreed, reaching up to lightly tug on her wife’s braid.
