Twice now, the Empty had stopped before me while I felt aching nostalgia in my breast and tugged upon it. Had that been a coincidence?
“It wasn’t,” Eleos said. “I saw you, the way your blood bent around the edges of the chasm. You werechanneling.”
6
Chapter 6
Isat on a bench, drinking in the sight of life. Outposts were always crowded with travelers and merchants. The awning above my head beat away the glare of the sun and blocked my view of the cottages clustered down the dirt path.
A pack mule grazed beside me, tail swishing aside buzzing gnats. Holding out a hand, I focused on the creature.
Eleos claimed I’d channeled while staring into the void—into my death. Nothing sparked to life in my heart, nor did any magic swirl about my fingertips. I felt nothing.
What was the odd scholar on about? The Empty halted its advance because of the Maiden’s Bloodstone, just as promised.
Tonight was my last chance to escape these lunatics. If I wanted to steal the Bloodstone from Seraphim, finding a caravan to ride back to Ikaria would be simple. I could return the stone to Laverna, pay off my debt, and run free. Doubtless, Seraphim would send word of my betrayal to the Archon, and my face would be plastered across city walls, but disguises were my forte.
Removing the sack of coins from my belt, I shook it, feeling its weight.
Fifty thousand Heschian pieces: that was my debt to the Guild. This sack held only two hundred. An amount that would make a peasant fall on his knees inprayer, to be sure. . .
I toyed with the coin purse’s strings. If Seraphim paid me well for this mission, I could carve out a comfortable life for myself—assuming the Guild didn’t come for my head.
Laying my head in my hands, I stared at the ground. Which was the best option?
“Let me guess,” Eleos’s even voice pulled me from my thoughts. “You think we stole that gold?” He sauntered over, wearing a smug little half-smile, and dropped a bundle onto my lap.
“I never said that.” I shoved the coin purse back onto my belt and inspected the bundle. “What’s this?”
“Clothes.” He glanced at my bandaged arm. “Your current attire is conspicuous and tattered.” Stretching, he sat beside me. “If you have questions, Lady Aethra, I’ll be happy to answer them.”
“Lady?”
Eleos ignored the inquiry. “Seraphim will go over the plan tomorrow morning, but she tends to leave out details.”
“Important details, like. . .” I tilted my head. “Who knows about us? Is the king’s council in on it? What about the city lords?”
“They don’t know.” He sat forward. “Nobility and clergy are inextricably tied. Most would not risk heresy for two reasons: to avoid sentencing, and so they won’t have to face the unthinkable.”
I paused to consider his words. Our mission, the appearance of the Empty so close to the capital. . . it meant the end days were closer than previously believed.
“We should keep a low profile, then.” I decided, looking Eleos up and down.
He dressed like a rich man. Embroidered cuffs, a well-tailored coat. But he still wore the pale blue scarf of the clergy.
“Are you sure you aren’t a priest?” I asked.
“Very sure.” He stood. “I found lodgings for the night. They have decent baths, too.” Offering a hand, he helped me to my feet.
A few people cast interested glances at my torn, bloody garb. Looking past them, I scanned the walls for wanted posters, lest the guard had arrived ahead of us. None appeared.
I had fond memories of this outpost. Ainwir and I had passed through often, traveling between Ikaria and Serifos whenever we started gaining unwanted attention from guards and cheated customers.
This place was cute, for a tiny hamlet tucked between enormous swathes of the Empty. Colored banners hung from roof sills and even stretched to the tops of the watch towers, shading fields of reeds growing from the damp soil.
“Here we are.” Eleos stopped before an ancient stone building, its foundation sunk in the mud. “Ah. One more thing.” He pressed a wrapped parcel into my hand.
The scent of sandalwood penetrated the paper. “Soap?” I chuckled.
