I hadn’t voiced my thoughts aloud. Rearing back, I stared into his green eyes and studied his smug half-smile. “Oh, no. You’re apsyche.”
His smile widened, but he did not answer.
Great. He’d been reading my mind since the moment we met. No wonder he’d figured out everything about me; nobody had told him I’d never been imprisoned—he’d read my fear.
“Is the lady awake?” Percy’s cheerful voice ascended the hill where the others were camped. “And she looks no worse for wear.”
Rolling his neck, he yanked off his low-brimmed hat. I didn’t mean to gape at him, but I couldn’t help it.
Not one wrinkle marred his face, but shock-white hair brushed against his skin. Shadowed by his hat, I hadn’t noticed his pale gray eyes and pallid skin.
But he couldn’t have been more than thirty. Only those who’d suffered prolonged exposure to the Empty had their features warped, drained of color. Anyone who showed their face in public looking like that would be driven out of town, for fear of them spreading their curse.
Percy noticed my stare, but didn’t seem to mind. “I say we get going before the world tries to eat us again.”
“Agreed.” Seraphim marched back to her horse. “Up you go, girly. An inn room’s not far.”
A hand brushed my arm. Staring ahead, I avoided Eleos’ gaze. Ainwir had taught me how to block out psyches, but it required a great deal of concentration—something I lacked with a throbbing arm and a heavy head.
“Seraphim meant what she said,” Eleos promised. “It’s quite a sum she’s promised us. I haven’t decided how to spend my lavish retirement yet.”
“You’re getting paid, too?”
“And Percy.”
Seraphim flashed me a grin as she swung over her horse’s saddle.
A lavish retirement, eh? I closed my eyes, imagining presenting Laverna with the absurd sum I owed her. More likely, she’d slit my throat or sell me to a brothel for failing the job.
“Or,” Eleos suggested. “They’ll push more debt on your head and keep you in servitude for as long as you’re useful.”
“Stop that.” I hissed.
“Sorry.” Eleos glanced away. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I said reluctantly, holding back a groan as he boosted me back onto the saddle. Still exhausted, I wobbled back and forth until he sat behind me. Appearances be damned. I slumped against his chest, unwilling to spend the hours bent over the horse’s neck.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, Eleos pressed his legs against mine, securing me against him. Warmth from his body enveloped me, warding off the chill from my soaked clothes. Heat slowly trickled to my cheeks, and I turned a bright shade of red. Earlier, I’d dwelt on his pleasant scent and surprising musculature.
Oh. . . he’d read all those thoughts, too.
“I was flattered,” Eleos said, unhelpfully.
Closing my eyes, I reminded myself to guard my thoughts more carefully, going forward.
“I do a lot of traveling,” Eleos added, ordering the horse into a trot. “Running across rooftops, fleeing the guards. Sometimes stealing from temples or libraries.”
“So that’s why you’re built like a thief,” I muttered.
“I don’t consider myself a thief,” he said. “Had they less stringent rules, I’d simply borrow what I need, but—”
“But study of the Empty is forbidden.” I finished his sentence.
“Are you a psyche?” He teased.
As the horses trotted across the grasslands, I stared over my shoulder, remembering my brush with death.
I’d met my master like that. A pocket of the Empty had appeared beside me while I was playing in the woods, alone. Ainwir had appeared from nowhere, rushed to my side, and by the goddess’s grace or sheer luck, the all-consuming void had halted in its tracks, sparing our lives.
