Chapter 18 #2
Rheave tips his head in agreement, his expression calmly intent. He’s really the perfect comrade for a bit of subterfuge like this—he’s so unaffected by human insecurities that he doesn’t have any nerves to hide.
I wasn’t totally sure at first how he’d fit in to the dynamic that’s formed between the four of us.
Ivy, Alek, Stavros, and I have been through so much at the college before Rheave quite literally barged in.
But somehow he manages to be both fanciful and steady when we could use more of both to bolster our spirits.
I sink back in my seat, letting my own nerves settle. It should be smooth going from here. Hanie vouched for a cleric at a temple of Prospira that’s about an hour outside the city. We’ll go there and surrender the sacrificial accomplices to his care.
Alek wanted to talk to the cleric too—something about investigating records about the Great Retribution. I’m not sure where he hopes that line of inquiry will lead him, but I trust the scholar knows what he’s doing.
And now the scourge sorcerers will have four fewer victims to exploit to enforce their rule. All the brothel owner will be able to tell them is that one of their own came to—
“Hey, you there! Halt a moment.”
A burly man with a sword at his hip steps into the street ahead of us, holding up his hands. My pulse hiccups.
We’ve only made it a few blocks from the brothel. Did someone realize what we’re up to?
From the man’s swaggering stride toward us, he’s either a member of the Order of the Wild enforcing their will around the city or one of the locals doing the same to win the Order’s favor. His imperious gaze sweeps over us.
“What’s your business in Pima?” he demands. “I don’t recognize either of you.”
Probably a local, then, and one whose head has swelled with his newfound authority.
I keep my stance relaxed. “We came through town to do a little business. We’re making the trip back to Valk now.”
I pick a Nikodian town that’s farther from the border rather than closer in the hopes that’ll deflect any worries that we’re involved with the king’s forces. All I get in return is a frown.
The guard takes on a haughtier tone, ambling past the horses. “I hope your business supports our goals. Have you pitched in anything toward seeing a proper king on the throne?”
“We do what we can. What the All-Giver would want from us.”
He pauses next to me and squints at Rheave. “Your business partner is awfully quiet.”
Rheave peers at him in his unflappable way. “Is there something you wanted to ask me?”
His detached tone appears to raise the guard’s suspicions. He glances at the rest of the wagon. “Maybe I should take a look at what goods you’re peddling.”
Gods smite us. I grope for the right words to temper his authoritative ego, but nothing comes to me.
I don’t know what he really wants. But I do have a way to find out.
I inhale deeply, my teeth setting tight against each other. I wouldn’t normally use my gift twice in such close succession—I’m not totally sure it’ll work.
As I aim my attention more intently at the guard, pain splinters through my forehead. It condenses into a throbbing ache at the sides of my skull.
I keep casting out my gift through the pain. The impressions that reach me come in filmier fragments than usual, but I think I grasp enough emotion and ambition—and a single name—to piece together an answer.
Now I know what would make him happiest… and I’m going to do the opposite.
I set my hand on the seat beside me to offset the dizzying headache and raise my voice just slightly. “You’re one of Artor’s fellows, aren’t you? He did say you were getting a bit big for your britches.”
The guard jerks around, his shoulders going rigid and his face flushing. “You know Artor? He talked about me?”
I know from the glimpse I caught that Artor is someone who’s given this man orders, who he desperately wants to impress.
I manage to nod despite the throbbing in my head.
“Oh, yes. We’ve known each other since we were little.
I told him it’s impressive what you all have coordinated here, but he’s concerned some have come on board to puff themselves up with bullying rather than to see that the gods’ purpose is fulfilled. ”
The guard blinks, and most of the arrogance deflates out of him. He averts his gaze with a scowl. “I was only trying to do my job.”
“I’m sorry if we gave you any reason for suspicion,” I say in an arch tone that’s more chiding than apologetic.
My heart doesn’t stop thudding until he waves his arm for us to continue. “I didn’t know you had those kind of ties here. Go on now.”
“Thank you,” Rheave says in a tone that’s a little more chipper than the situation calls for, but to my relief, the guard doesn’t shout after us as the horses clop onward.
I tip my head into my hand, rubbing my temple as the ache slowly wanes.
Rheave glances over at me. “Are you all right? You used your magic on him, didn’t you? But I thought it was a regular gift—it shouldn’t hurt you like Ivy’s does.”
I manage to give him a crooked grin. “It only does if I push it harder than is wise. As long as I don’t try to peek inside anyone else’s head today, I’ll be fine.”
He hums to himself, though I’m not sure if he fully understands what I’m saying. How can a being practically made of magic comprehend the kind of gifts we humans sacrifice for?
He turns to glance at the canvas covering behind us as if he can see through it. When he faces the road again, his face has turned solemn. “You got the people the sorcerers are using for extra magic?”
“Four of them.”
He knits his brow. “It isn’t any of them.”
I shoot him a puzzled look. “What isn’t?”
“The one who helped make my body—and the one who helped control it. Neither of them are in the wagon. Those two are still out there, making more like me.”