The witch paled as understanding dawned on her. “You want me to lead you to my coven grounds.”
“Semras …”
“I-I can’t … You’re asking too much of me. I can’t betray my Coven by leading aninquisitor—”
Kneeling before her, Estevan took her hands in his. “I am not asking you to bring an inquisitor. I can wear a disguise; I can pretend to be someone else. Anyone you want. But we must leave tonight while we still have the element of surprise. It will be risky, and Cael might send his people after us, but he needs to be stopped.”
“I-I can’t …” Tears softly rolled down her cheeks.
“Semras …” Estevan cradled her face in his hands and wiped her tears away. “Cael wants to create a panic. This is not the misguided act of a single vengeful witch that I can cover up for; this is an act of war. We need to stop him, no matter the cost.” Closing his eyes, he softly rested his forehead against hers. “I never thought he could do this. Believe me, it hurts knowing my brother is behind it all. He had always been so righteous, so orthodox in his methods. Murder is … it has never been his style. But people change. I cannot let him destroy us all, and for that I … I need you, Semras. Say you will help me.”
Semras closed her eyes, then gently, hesitantly, placed her hand atop his, still resting on her cheek. If the price to save herpeople was to bear the guilt of betraying them, then she’d do it. “I will … I will help.”
Even if it meant living in exile after.
Estevan beheld her with unveiled tenderness. “Thank you. I know I have been monstrous to you … I do not know how to make amends for it, or if it is even possible, but I will have no rest until I do. If I spend the rest of my life grovelling for your mercy …”—his gaze fell on her lips—“… it will be a life well spent.”
Semras sucked in a breath. Eyes half-lidded, she watched him, not daring to close her eyelids lest the man in front of her vanish.
Tortuously, maddeningly slowly, he closed the gap between them, and she tensed. One of her hands hovered in the air between them, while the other stayed on his, cupping her face. She didn’t know what she wanted to do: push or pull.
Against her lips, Estevan breathed, “I shouldn’t …” Then he wrenched himself away, fleeing from her trembling shape.
Semras remained sitting. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips; a breath shuddered out of her.
Out of confusion, and worse.
Yearning.
Chapter 28
WhenSemrasregainedhersenses, Estevan was mumbling and pacing across the room. “… Need to make haste …” he muttered, “travel lightly tonight … if someone trails us …” He came to a halt, then hummed. “A decoy should take my place here, but for how long?”
“It’ll take a day and a night to reach Yore from Castereina,” Semras answered him.
Wide-eyed, the inquisitor spun and stared at her as if he’d forgotten she was still there. “Yes, thank you. I, um … I have to give some orders. Do not panic; I will explain all later,” he said, looking around without focusing on anything in particular. “Maraz’Miri, come at once.”
A gust of wind flew through Semras’ hair, and she looked at the window, expecting to see it open.
It wasn’t.
She frowned. “Wh—”
“Maz’s here,Ensi-il-ensi!”
Startled, the witch whipped her head toward the source of the voice—and found none. Papers took off from the desk to swirlaround a spot next to the inquisitor. The strange wind didn’t alarm him—and neither did the disembodied chuckle coming from it.
“The plan has changed,” he told it. “Tell Sin’Sagar to come here, and once I am done with him, call the Venator knights for me.”
Itcouldn’tbe. Mouth hanging, Semras peered into the Arras.
A vortex of threads, loosely woven into the shape of a woman, stood next to the faceless warp shape of the inquisitor. The whirlwind danced back and forth violently, laughing in the face of gravity.
Some of its wefts unravelled into a voice. “Will do!” Spinning its limbs around, the vortex condensed once more to wave at the witch.
“The draft …? It was you all along, Maz,” Semras said softly. “You unlocked the door for me.”
A chuckle answered her. The whirlwind folded within itself, then dispersed into thousands of threads in all directions. They flew under the bottoms of doors, through the cracks of the leaded windows, and into the smallest of gaps in the walls. One draft flicked past her face, trailing along her cheek before joining the others.
