Chapter 8
Carver
“Me?” Sadia squeaked, rearing back from Zacharias’s leveled finger.
Samuel slid in front of his wife, his cheeks flushed as he squared off before the high cleric. “She’s not an empath, you bloody lunatic!”
Carver’s pulse hammered, sweat rolling down his spine.
He forced his fingers—which had been inching for the dagger sheathed at his side—to curl into an empty fist. His other hand gripped Amryn’s too tightly, but he could still feel her trembling.
His own body vibrated as every muscle strained to keep still despite the adrenaline shooting through him.
“She is the empath,” Zacharias insisted.
“You’re targeting her because of me,” Samuel snapped, fury in every word. “Accusing her of being some mythic monster just so you can punish me. You vindictive—”
“Enough!” Lisbeth shouted.
Tense silence fell, giving way to the emperor’s aged voice as he demanded, “How can you know she is the empath, Zacharias? Only a knight can truly know.”
“All the evidence points to her,” the High Cleric of Esperance said.
“Explain,” the emperor commanded.
Zacharias drew himself to his full height. “The moment the unnatural healing occurred during the Feast of Remembrance, I knew a powerful empath was at the temple.”
“Healing?” Jayveh asked, a slight quiver in her voice.
“Yes,” the high cleric said. “Some empaths have the ability to heal.”
“But . . .” Jayveh’s forehead creased. “Why would an empath heal anyone? They’re evil.”
Amryn’s breath hitched.
Carver gritted his teeth.
“It is not for us to understand the ways of evil,” Zacharias said.
“But there were too many miraculous recoveries that night. The healings could have only happened by supernatural means.” He looked to Samuel.
“Your wound was especially grievous. I saw it. And yet, with Sadia by your side, you made a complete recovery in moments. Not even a scar remained when the physician looked at you.” His head tipped to the side, a taunting sheen in his eyes. “Explain that, scholar.”
A muscle ticked in Samuel’s jaw. “I can’t explain what happened that night. No one can. But Sadia didn’t heal me. That’s absurd.”
A furrow appeared between the emperor’s brows. “What further proof do you have, Zacharias?”
“I didn’t have a suspect in mind that night,” Zacharias said, clearly relishing the fact that every eye was on him.
Smug satisfaction shined in his eyes as he wove his explanation.
“All I knew was that a powerful empath had infiltrated Esperance. I wrote to High Cleric Bartholomew—” He shot Lisbeth a pointed look.
“—and asked for knights to be sent to the temple. I was going to leave the investigation in their hands, but then we were ambushed on the road.”
The emperor stiffened. “By the Rising?”
“No,” Jayveh said. “Hired mercenaries. They were coming to kill us at the temple.” She touched his arm, trying to comfort him. “We’re all right, Your Eminence.”
“Not all of us were,” Zacharias said. “Sadia was shot with an arrow. She was dying.” He looked right at Sadia, who was frighteningly pale. “She should have died. But she healed herself.”
“She wasn’t healed,” Samuel ground out. “I held her as her wound was stitched. She’s been in pain every day since—”
“An empath’s trick,” Zacharias interjected. “I know she healed herself, because I saw her take another’s life force to do it.” He glanced at Amryn, and Carver’s muscles locked. “Sadia used—”
“Impossible,” Lisbeth stated firmly.
Zacharias’s nostrils flared. “Forgive me, High Cleric, but you weren’t there. One of Jayveh’s bodyguards removed the arrow, and he claimed it was a miracle she lived. And Carver—” Zacharias turned on him, bringing the attention of everyone in the room with him.
Amryn’s fingernails dug into Carver’s skin at the sudden scrutiny. Her tangible fear made his heart crack.
Zacharias had eyes only for Carver. “You saw it. You can attest to the fatal placement of that arrow.”
Carver fought to keep his expression impassive as he said, “I didn’t have a chance to study her wound. I was focused on fighting off the attackers.”
Zacharias’s face was thunderous. “But—”
“You misunderstood me, Zacharias,” Lisbeth interrupted. “What you say is impossible because no empath has the ability to heal itself—no matter how powerful they are.”
“Lisbeth is right,” the emperor murmured. “Empaths are immune to their own foul magic. They can only use it on others.”
Zacharias’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Clearly, the high cleric hadn’t known that. Or perhaps he’d merely forgotten in his desperation to be right.
Lisbeth exhaled slowly. “Zacharias . . .”
He gritted his teeth. “I’ve thought this through.
Sadia has been unassuming the entire time we were in Esperance, as if she was able to make any negative thoughts about her slide from our minds.
An empath’s unholy manipulation, I have no doubt.
And then she managed to turn a radical like Samuel into a man so besotted, he abandoned all reason—and even his fanatical beliefs—to protect her from all sides.
She’s pretty enough, but she doesn’t merit that level of devotion. ”
Samuel growled. “Insult her again, Cleric, and I’ll—”
“Samuel!” Sadia hissed, gripping his wrist to keep him from advancing on Zacharias.
The prince of Wendahl’s entire frame vibrated with rage, but he stayed in place.
Zacharias made a disgusted noise, flicking a hand toward the couple. “You see? She has him utterly enthralled!”
A threatening growl escaped Ivan. He had proven to be protective of all the women since his wife’s murder, and that was clearly in evidence now. His words were filled with barely restrained violence as he said, “I am under no such enthrallment, High Cleric.”
Zacharias flinched back from the large Sibeten. “You wouldn’t dare to—”
“Enough,” the emperor declared. “I appreciate your effort to uncover the empath, Zacharias, but your evidence is severely lacking.”
His face reddened. “Your Eminence, please, I—”
“I chose Esperance for a reason,” the emperor overrode him.
“It was supposed to be a peaceful place for the Chosen to grow closer together. A place where new beginnings and hope could flourish.” He lifted an age-spotted hand.
“This before me? It is not peace, Zacharias. If you do not foster unity here, in my very throne room with me as a witness, I fear you failed to do so at Esperance as well.”
Zacharias’s throat bobbed, panic entering his eyes. “Your Eminence, if there is any discord between me and the Chosen, it is the empath’s doing—”
“Silence,” Lisbeth snapped at him. “You’re embarrassing yourself. And the church.” Ignoring his fuming, she looked to Sadia, her eyes softening as she said, “My dear, I apologize for the high cleric’s unfounded accusations.”
“Unfounded?” Zacharias spluttered.
Lisbeth quelled him with a shrp look. “The empath will be found, Zacharias. I passed along your request to the Holy Superior. He was most alarmed—not just by the suspected empath’s appearance, but by your many failures in Esperance.”
Zacharias bristled. “I can explain everything.”
“Good. Because Highest Cleric Jeremiah is coming here to personally hear your explanations.”
Zacharias paled. “The Holy Superior is coming to the palace?”
“Yes,” Lisbeth confirmed. “And he’s bringing knights with him. I expect them to arrive in three days.”
Carver swallowed a curse, even as he heard Amryn’s breath falter. Three days. That didn’t give him much time to get Amryn out of Zagrev. Especially since there was no way the emperor would allow anyone to leave until after tomorrow’s meeting.
“The empath must be found,” the emperor said.
“It will be,” Lisbeth assured him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “The knights will find the empath, no matter what it takes.” An almost feral glint appeared in her eyes as she added, “We cannot allow an empath to roam free. A monster like that does not deserve to live.”
Carver had never wished empaths were mind readers until the moment he was forced to watch Amryn walk away with the rest of the Chosen while he remained in the throne room. I’ll keep you safe, he silently swore to her. I’ll get us out of here before the knights arrive.
Amryn never looked back.
The door closed, stealing his wife from view, leaving Carver with only the memory of her cold hand in his and an imprint of her fear pressing against his skin.
And the image of Ivan walking beside her.
Carver tried to ignore the irrational burn of jealousy, but even if the Wolf didn’t have feelings for Amryn, it still bothered him to see another man at her side.
The only good news was that Zacharias and Lisbeth had been dismissed as well.
While Zacharias had always annoyed him, Lisbeth unnerved him.
He didn’t know her—had no reason to dislike her on sight—and yet there was something about her that made him uneasy.
It might have been her heavy stare, or the way she’d hesitated at the emperor’s dismissal.
Regardless, as she’d walked past Carver, her blue robe trailing behind her, a chill had rolled down his spine. She’d given him a thin smile.
He had not returned the gesture.
“I know both of you must be tired as well,” the emperor said to Carver and Jayveh once they were alone. “I’m sorry to ask you to stay.”
The last thing Carver wanted was to be apart from Amryn—especially after everything that had just happened—but if giving the bulk of his report now could pave the way for his request to leave Zagrev with Amryn . . . “I’d like to answer any of your questions, Your Eminence.”