The corners of his lips quivered, but he kept the smile on. Semras smirked too. He had visibly remembered the shrunken heads,andsheremembered Blyana’s particular penchant for them. Any second now, her dear friend would bring that subject up.
“Indeed!” Blyana replied. “Oh, I’d love to show you my collection oftsantsa.I made some of them myself!” Bringing the tips of her fingers together, she continued, oblivious to the rapid paling of the man in front of her.“I bet a man of your knowledge could really appreciate its true value. Perhaps you have ideas of what I could add to it? My little moths so love to nest among them.”
“Another time, perhaps,” Estevan said, smile twitching. “We sadly must leave after we are done browsing the shops.”
Semras took pity on him. “What brought you to Yore, Blyana?” she asked, changing the subject. “Wares as well? I know Lumne doesn’t have a market as big as this one.”
“Oh … no. That’s not it.” Her friend’s mood turned sombre. “Lumne is … small. Vulnerable. Yore’s bigger, and it’s hidden well within Weirlaind, so … when I heard the rumours, I came here for shelter. I’m not the only one either, as you can see by the crowd here today.”
“The rumours?”
“Yes, a Yore sister sent word a few days ago. She had intel on the Inquisition—about how they were thinking of startinga new witch purge, I think.” Blyana’s voice dropped low. The moths surrounding her flapped their wings distressingly fast. “I’ve heard the Elders tried to reach her afterward, but she had vanished from her home. They didn’t tell anyone who she was, but we all fear for her. No doubt a Crone-cursed inquisitor took her.”
Oh.
That was her. Semras had sent that message right after burying the Elder’s remains on their way to Castereina. Back then, she had meant to stop by Yore and explain the situation in person before returning home.
She shifted on her feet, trying to shake off the culpability rising within her. Her innocent warning had suddenly made their trip a lot more dangerous than she had expected.
“Some of our more belligerent sisters have called for an avenging strike on their headquarters in Castereina,” the pactwitch continued. “All the Covens are on high alert now, and there’s talk of opening the Path of War to anyone interested again. I fear we all must prepare for the worst.”
The glare of Inquisitor Velten burned her nape. “That’s …” Semras said, voice quivering. “That’s … worrisome. Thanks for letting me know.”
Her friend patted her shoulder. “I’ll send you one of my moth familiars if I learn anything new. You live at the edge of Yore’s lands, Semras. If a war breaks out, you must take shelter here with me.”
“I-I will.” Forcing a smile for Blyana, Semras clenched her gloved hands, hoping it would hide their red palms and make them look ordinary.
Next to her, the inquisitor’s stare anchored her down. She didn’t need it to keep her mouth shut—if anyone in Yore discovered she had sent that message, there would be acommotion, and the Elders would then learn that Semras was back.
And shecouldn’tafford for them to know that.
“I’ll leave you two alone. I can tell when I’m intruding,” the pactwitch giggled. “We’ll catch up next time, Semras. Stay safe until then! Don’t think I haven’t noticed these gloves. I must know the story behind them.”
“Oh, they’re … just a silly trophy.”
Blyana hummed with a wink, then waved her goodbyes. Chewing on her bottom lip, Semras watched her friend leave.
She needed to be more careful with the gloves. And she needed to get out of Yore before the Elders discovered she was back. They’d have questions for her, and she wouldn’t be able to lie to them—elderwitches always knew when someone did. If they caught her, they’d learn she had sneaked an inquisitor onto their sacred coven grounds.
A cold sweat ran down her spine.
“Well done, witch,” Estevan mocked in her ear. “I am sure this will not escalate tensions at all.”
“I didn’t intend for this to happen,” she hissed.
“You know this is how the last witch purges started, don’t you?”
“That’s not—! That’s not similar at all! Andyourpeople started it, not mine!”
Estevan rolled his eyes, scoffing. “It does not matter who did. Only that it happened, and that you just might have contributed to the next one. Stopping my brother’s plan will be for naught if witches get agitated into … what did your friend say? A ‘preemptive strike’?”
Semras gritted her teeth. “‘Avenging.’ Because aninquisitortook me away.”
“You followed me out of your own volition!”
Around them, passersby began turning their heads. Semras groaned in frustration, then dragged the inquisitor into a dark recess between shops. Pushing him against a wall of mossy stones, she grabbed his collar. “You manipulated me into it, you bastard!”
“Yes, I did! Are you happy I admit it now? I am not proud, but I cannot afford to regret it. There are a lot of things I need to repent for, but not this. Not for trying to spare us all from a waryourreckless action might have started anyway!”
