Chapter 6 #2
Searching for something to fill the space, I thought of a question. “What did you do? Your crime, I mean.”
Opening a small pouch, Eleos pulled out a needle and threaded it. “I figured it would keep you entertained for a while if I made you guess.”
“Your insistence on keeping the secret makes me think you did something truly awful.”
“That narrows it down, no? You’ll get there eventually.” He wiped the blood from my shoulder and set to stitching. “What about you? How’d you end up selling cheap trinkets on Ikaria’s market street?”
“I was a gutter rat. My mother dumped me, and I was lucky to survive long enough to meet a tutor.” I narrowed my eyes. “Why ask? Can’t you just read my mind?”
“I’m trying not to.” He leaned closer, focused on his task. “It’s impolite.” He looked up, green eyes an inch from mine. “I haven’t peered into that chaotic hellscape since the marsh.”
“I don’t believe you.” I snapped my mouth closed. “Wait, what do you mean by-”
“You should. The honesty on my face reflects my sincere soul.”
“Alright, now I’m absolutely certain you’re lying.”
He muffled a laugh, pulling the needle through my wound.
I turned my head, nearly knocking it against his.
“Sit still.” He ordered.
“Sorry,” I murmured, looking ahead. “You watched me for weeks, huh? Did you learn anything interesting?”
“You have a tiny house.” He said. “You pick flowers most nights when you get home. There’s a step you trip on nearly every day, and you say the same curse. And,” He sat back, meeting my eyes. “You think an awful lot about how much you hate a man named Ainwir.”
I pursed my lips. “I can’t say I enjoy being spied on.”
“Sorry. Seraphim and I needed to be sure you were the one.”
“The one?” I chuckled. “There are plenty of con artists better than me.” Narrowing my eyes, I studied his even expression. Why had they settled on me?
“Who is he?” Eleos asked. “Ainwir.”
“My teacher. I’m in debt because of him.”
“Ah. Your hatred is justified, then.” He paused his work to look into my eyes. “I know trust won’t come easily, but no one in this company will betray you. You have my word.”
“I. . . thanks.” Trust wouldn’t come easily, but it was nice to hear.
We fell into silence as he carefully patched me up.
When not on the job, I rarely interacted with men.
Occasionally, I found a break and visited a tavern to listen to a bard and enjoy a drink.
But for all my talents with speech, sincere conversations were difficult for me, more so when the man across from me seemed a good soul.
If Eleos read my thoughts, he kept them to himself. He touched me tenderly, as though I were fragile glass that would shatter if handled too roughly. Neat little stitches closed up the ragged tear running down my arm.
“There.” Snapping the thread with his teeth, Eleos sat back. “You know, psyches can do far more than read minds. Were you never told that?”
I pursed my lips, trying to remember every inexplicable thing Ainwir had accomplished. Secretive trickster, he’d never said he was a psyche, nor informed me of what magic he could conjure.
He’d hidden everything that gave him an advantage, even from me.
“What else can you do?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Eleos responded with that little half-smile. Wiping his hands off, he closed his satchel of medical supplies.
This man was going to drive me mad long before Seraphim’s quest pushed me to my death. Racking my brain, I tried to recall something extraordinary Ainwir had done. Something that could have only been magic.
Nothing came to mind.
“We can tune emotions, too.” Eleos stood in front of me. “It’s not easy—I have to coax my target closer to my desired state before I can alter them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before, you were tense and troubled.” He knelt, gently wrapping a bandage around the wound. “But you’ve calmed down, and now. . .” Tying the bandage, he rested a hand on my arm.
Solace washed over me, like the comfort of a bath after a long, tiring day. Every limb loosened, my muscles relaxed, and my pounding headache slowly lifted.
“Ah.” I breathed. “I understand now.”
“Forgive me.” His brow knit. “You’ve lost a lot of blood and need rest.”
“No, it’s fine”, I said, tempted to lie back and close my eyes. “Thank you.”
Taking my hand, he helped me to my feet. I felt like I was floating above the clouds.
“Do you need help getting back to your room?” He asked.
“No, I’m fine.” I walked to the door and paused. “You said you study the Empty. Did you find something that gave you hope?”
“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“Whatever Seraphim’s plan is, it’s probably going to end in our deaths.”
“Very true.”
“. . .you just don’t seem—”
“The type who joins suicide missions?” He chuckled.
“Twice a week, the people gather at church in solemn devotion to the gods. We lead them in prayer, casting their wishes toward Those who wait for us in the beyond. And in exchange for their piety, the Empty encroaches a few inches every day, cutting off land, taking more lives, until inevitably, everything will be gone. I figured someone ought to try doing something about it.”
‘We lead them in prayer.’ I pointed at him accusingly. “You are a priest.”
Face unchanged, still wearing that little half-smile, Eleos turned away. “Goodnight, Lady Aethra.”
Defeated, I walked across the hall to my room. Closing the door behind me, I ran my fingers over the new stitches.
Eleos sounded so passionate, so frustrated. Maybe joining them on a noble cause would be a nice change of pace.
But Seraphim had mentioned recruiting me for my silver tongue and experience in the underworld, which meant. . .
That little heist of theirs was but the first of many crimes to come.