12. 11 #3
He nodded at my surprise, likely believing that I was shocked because no one would be stupid enough to kill a sunner, and not because I’d been lied to by omission more times than I could count. “Not just that,” Petros said. “It was Seera. The daughter of Aseem.”
I felt immediately this was true.
“She was the Sun Leader’s daughter?” I asked, the words tumbling out in a squawk.
How dare he? How dare Davian send me to the prison to speak to the sunners about other disappearances without telling me his wife was the daughter of their venerated Leader? My anger flared, but I forced myself to focus on the surprise. I could be angry later.
I shook my head at Petros. “I hadn’t heard.”
He nodded like that was the right answer. “You wouldn’t have. Aseem wanted to keep it quiet, until they could arrest the culprit.”
I nodded, knowing I had to leave soon; this man was sharing too much, and it was better to disappear before he realised it. And yet, I couldn’t believe Davian had kept this from me. What else had he obscured?
“Maybe the guy who killed her offed your friend, too,” Petros said.
I flinched at the glib comment.
Though he did have one thing in common with Davian; he believed the missing devotees were connected.
I asked the question he was waiting for me to ask. “Who killed Seera?”
The zeal in his gaze unnerved me. “Her husband.”
“My goodness,” I said, woodenly.
Ekris above, Davian.
How dare you send me here to investigate? Telling me to flirt my way into the group of people investigating you for your own wife’s murder? This was beyond sick.
Petros had spoken it without a shadow of doubt, as if the confession had been pulled from his lips by an Oath of Light. For all I knew, it might have been. Was this the real reason Davian had picked me to help? Because I had been too sheltered to hear the rumours?
But if so, it didn’t explain why he had sent me here. Surely, he would expect this to come out.
“Seera was happy,” Petros spoke into our pause, and I could hear the anger in his voice. “An important young woman, respected in town. Wanted for nothing. Until this man shows up. Davian is his name. Served time for theft, then wormed his way into Samiscus’ sordid den of pain.”
I shook my head, as he wanted me to, but there was something about that last statement that had the sourness of a lie. There was more to Davian’s story than that, and Petros knew it.
“He seduced Seera away from her family,” Petros continued.
“Dragged her to the gutters of depravity. Rumour is she wouldn’t see any of her relatives, and for months she was barely seen in Dytho at all.
Then a few days after Aseem writes that she won’t see a silver from her dowry, she mysteriously vanishes.
” Petros drummed his fingers on the table.
These words held all the conviction of truth.
This was something he believed, and worse, it had the zeal of true faith.
The words were almost practiced. He shook his head and his rage pulled his brutish face into something far more ugly. “Her body never showed up.”
“You’re certain it was him?” I asked, despite the nerves in my stomach. I asked because I had to know now, for my own safety.
“He’s from the House of Death,” he said, as if this were evidence for itself.
“A devotee of pain and killing. It would have been as easy as breathing. They have access to the dead, and to the graveyards. Who else could move a body without anyone suspecting?” Petros leaned forward again. “And if they were unhappily married…”
I leaned away from Petros.
I knew it was the wrong move. I should have played into his hand and probed for more. But I was shaken. If it was true that Davian had taken Seera away to the House of Pain, and she had died after she was disinherited? It looked bad. It did.
Petros didn’t seem to mind that I had moved away. If anything, I think he was proud to have discombobulated me.
“I can’t believe Saskia might have been murdered, too,” I replied airily. “Is this man, the husband, not in prison?”
Petros shook his head. “We wish. His House is protecting him. If he had something to do with Saskia, too, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I stood, at once knowing I had to get out of there. I had been lied to, though why Davian had done it, and why he had then sent me here when he knew my line of inquiry, was beyond me.
Petros stood, too, and I shivered. He didn’t say anything.
“Thank you for your help,” I said. “And for looking for Saskia. I really should be going.”
The warden gestured to the door and I sighed a breath of relief. I didn’t know why, but part of me thought he might prevent my leaving. I opened the door myself and strode for my cloak. My arms were covered in goosepimples and my hair stood on end.
Petros spoke from the doorframe. “Mark my words, Bella. The House of Death has their stain all over this.”
I muttered another thanks, and left the prison as quickly as I could, not looking back until I was out through the fence. Even with the heat of the sun, I had never felt colder.