I have no control.
Lillian tosses a sympathetic look over her shoulder at the frozen decorations. I throw open another door before finally stopping in front of Everbound’s smaller library, where a legacy in a Reformist uniform dutifully stands guard outside.
I recognize him as a caster I met during my second year as a student at Everbound. When he sees us approaching, he salutes me, but his attention lingers on the left side of my face.
“Dude,” Douglas prompts after too many seconds pass, exasperated.
The legacy realizes where he’s staring and clears his throat uncomfortably. “Forgive me, Commander, it’s just the first time I’ve seen you since…you know.”
Yeah. I know.
Hard to forget when people keep staring like he is yet again.
“Move,” I say coldly. He moves aside quickly, but I pause to look at Douglas before entering. “You have an hour to eat and visit with your pet flea ball before we head out again.”
“Sure thing, hard-ass.” He turns and strolls away, whistling.
I push through the doors, and Lillian follows quickly after me. When I see two purple-clad prophets and a priestess standing in the room next to the large hearth Lillian constantly keeps lit, I’m surprised.
I’m also pissed.
“Oh, look. There are liars in my stronghold.” I give them my dead-eye look.
“Everett, please,” Lillian chides gently, gesturing at the quacks. “This is Priestess Anna, Prophet Julius, and Galene’s Second High Prophet, Vincent. They’ve come from the makeshift temples in Halfton.”
The only temples left are makeshift ones. As far as I know, the others have all been destroyed by shadow fiends, Limbo Zones, rioting humans, and Crypt. Now, there aren’t many prophets, priests, or other holy servants left. Those who survived ended up fleeing to strongholds and building shabby temples for the six gods.
“And?” I ask flatly.
I don’t miss the way my flippant tone makes Julius’s eye twitch.
“Well—” Lillian begins diplomatically.
“Andwe are the gods’ servants,” Prophet Julius admonishes me, lifting his chin. “I have heard much about you these last months, Commander Frost. I came because I received a great divination from the gods, who told me your soul desperately needs redemption. If you would only turn your substantial monetary support to the building of the temple of?—”
I freeze him solid to shut him up.
Yet another greedy idiot. No fucking surprise there.
The other two temple workers startle in shock. I overhear Lillian’s muttered prayer to the gods—something about mercy for hurting one of their chosen saints.
What a waste of her time.
As if a damn prayer is going to save these con artists from me. The last time I prayed was six months ago, when my first and only love died in my arms and took the better version of me with her. All that hell and suffering my keeper fought so damn hard to survive for the sake of countless innocents, only for her to be gone in the next breath?
Yeah, no. The gods can rot for all I care, right along with everything we should have had together.
I level a look at the other two. “Anyone else want to join my collection?”
The priestess wisely rushes out of the library without a single word, dipping her head respectfully as she goes. But my irritation lingers when the Second High Prophet of Galene remains in place, watching me calmly in his ceremonial purple robes.
“Everett Frost,” he greets quietly. “The Knowing has blessed me with a great sense of clairvoyance. Knowing what I do of these last several hours, I am compelled to share what I have sensed of thetelum.”
The irritation quickly transforms to silent outrage, crystallizing in my blood.
Of course. Of fuckingcourseI have to go through this again.
I’m not surprised another corrupt jackass is milking my keeper’s posthumous infamy for attention. Her name is on everyone’s lips—a whisper, a rumor, a byword, an inspiring story. They use her name like it’s a godsdamnedjoke. Amid the Upheaval that some blame her for, everyone wants to pretend they knew her.
