The hem of Felinus’s brown cleric’s robe brushed the stone floor as he swept inside. His hands were clasped in front of him, his bald head humbly lowered. “I apologize for the lateness of my visit,” he said, as Carver closed the door. “I know you plan to leave at dawn, so I won’t stay long.” He cast a sidelong glance at Carver before addressing Amryn. “You wanted to discuss that section ofZerrif’s Voyage?”
Carver scowled, a growl living in his throat as he said, “If that’s the best lie you can tell, I don’t have a lot of confidence in your ability to guard my wife’s secret.”
Felinus paled. Amryn wasn’t sure if it was due to Carver’s words, or the menacing threat they held.
She huffed out a breath. “There’s no need for that, Carver.”
The look he gave her made it clear he disagreed.
Exasperated, she shook her head and turned to Felinus. “Carver knows I’m an empath.” Just saying the damning words aloud made her mentally cringe.
The cleric’s shock was sharp, his expression stricken. “Youtoldhim?”
Carver’s eyebrows slashed down.
Amryn sighed and folded her arms over her chest. “Yes, I told him.”
Concern flared in Felinus. “Is that . . . wise?”
“I’m herhusband,” Carver ground out. “She’s not in any danger from me.”
The cleric’s expression hardened. In that moment, Amryn glimpsed the knight Felinus had once been—dark, uncompromising, and terrifying. “Forgive me if I don’t instantly believe you, General Vincetti,” he said coolly. “You have no idea how many empaths I’ve seen betrayed by those closest to them.”
Amryn’s stomach clenched. She knew firsthand the truth of those words.
Indignation speared through Carver. “I would never betray her.”
“Good,” Felinus said curtly. “Neither would I. So, have we finished threatening each other, or would you like to waste more of our limited time exchanging unpleasantries?”
Carver stared the cleric down for a long, drawn-out moment. His emotions seethed, a churning river of distrust, fear, and uncertainty. Pure resolution crested everything as he lifted a finger and leveled it at Felinus. “If you betray her, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
Felinus’s gaze remained pure steel, but he dipped his chin. “Noted.” He glanced at Amryn. “What exactly does he know?”
It was easy to pick up on his thread of concern and guess what he was referencing; it was the same concern he’d felt only hours ago, when they’d discussed the amulet hidden in her room. “He knows about the bloodstone, and how I used it to heal everyone,” she told him.
Felinus wasn’t happy with that revelation, but he mostly kept that from his lined face as he asked, “Where is the bloodstone now?”
“Whatisa bloodstone?” Carver countered before Amryn could speak.
The old cleric released a slow breath, as if that could increase his patience. “As I’ve already told Amryn, I know very little about the bloodstones.”
“But you know something.”
Felinus gestured to the nearby chairs. “May we sit? I’m afraid I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Carver kept himself firmly at Amryn’s side as they crossed the room, and when Felinus lowered himself into one of the cushioned chairs, Carver took Amryn’s arm to ensure they sat on the long couch across from the cleric. Together. That was enough to warm her, but when Carver deliberately took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, something inside her melted.
Felinus’s eyes darted to their joined hands. She sensed his surprise, as well as a flicker of faint concern that warred with an almost desperate hope. She knew he’d chosen to trust her estimation of Carver when the cleric leaned back in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests. “The bloodstones were a myth to me,” he said. “Younger knights debated the veracity of the stories, of course, but the more experienced knights all claimed the stories were only that—pure fiction. But as I rose in the ranks, I heard whispers. Eventually, I learned that at least one powerful knight believed in the bloodstones. A knight called Murdon Savin.”
Amryn straightened at the familiar name. “I came across some of his things while working in the archives.” She’d even found his bone ring. The mere thought of itmade her shudder. The gold ring carried a shard of an empath’s bone, encased in a protective dome of crystal. All knights wore one; it was rumored to help them seek out empaths.
“I’m not surprised some of Savin’s possessions made their way here,” Felinus said. “He was the knight we all aspired to be. A legend. Some say he lost focus near the end of his life, but that’s only because he turned all his attention to finding the bloodstones. He was obsessed with them, and with Saul Von, whom he personally tortured until the empath died.”
Saul Von. The most infamous empath to ever live. The man whose heinous acts had ensured every empath was viewed as a dangerous monster. He’d murdered the emperor’s wife. That assassination had led to the emperor giving the church full authority to carry out their extermination of all empaths. As if that weren’t enough, Von had also killed the emperor’s son andhiswife. Argent—the emperor’s beloved grandson—had nearly lost his life in that same brutal attack. Thankfully, Von had been captured before he could assassinate the young prince.
A pang lit in Amryn’s chest. Argent had survived so much, only to be killed here at Esperance by Tam, a rebel who betrayed them all. They had yet to find Argent’s body, but Amryn knew the prince was gone. Not only had Tam stabbed him in the side, but he’d also been poisoned. When Amryn had channeled the bloodstone’s power, she’d reached out with her empathic sense to try and find him so she could heal him, too. But while she’d felt Tam, she hadn’t sensed Argent. That could only mean one thing.
He was already dead.
