Lucan’s eyes narrow. “What does she mean? You were tortured?”
“Just the vicar seeing if he could get me to use Etherlight without drawing it through a sigil by ripping me open and healing me over and over.” I can’t look at either of them as the moment replays in my mind. My hands ball into fists.
“Isola…” My name is heavy on his lips, but delicate. No one has ever said it like that—filled with so much pain. So much quiet fury. As if he has to whisper or else he’ll scream.
It’s enough to form a lump in my throat, and I shake my head to signal that I don’t want his pity. His well-intended sympathies make me feel far too weak for what the Tribunal demands.
A long stretch of silence. I bring my eyes back to his and find the muscles in his face bulging with how tightly he’s clenching his jaw. Regret contorts his features.
“What about you?” I ask, mostly to move the focus from myself.
He looks down as if guilty. I already have my answer, but I respect that he doesn’t try to lie. Lucan rubs the back of his neck. “I was questioned. But it wasn’t physical.”
“The prelate must like you,” I mutter. I don’t want to blame him for his good luck—for the choices of others that led to the brutality I faced and the relatively painless interrogation he got by comparison. But it’s difficult to be mature about things when you can still feel your skin ripping from your muscle, flayed by a magic knife beneath your flesh.
Lucan rests his hand on my shoulder, his touch gentle and his voice sincere. “Are you all right?”
I shrug. “I’ll live,” I say and avoid his gaze once more. I really don’t want any more attention for now.
“I’m sorry.” Lucan frowns.
“Are you?” Saipha narrows her eyes.
He turns his displeasure in her direction. “What’s that look for?”
“Strange, I think, that you are assigned to work with Isola as partners when there’s a scourge flood, then you leave her side, andthencome back looking fresh as sunshine on a spring day. She’s tortured while you just get a stern talking-to.”
Lucan removes his hand from my shoulder, and I’m surprised to find I miss the weight of it. “And that’s probably because they didn’t care what I did or didn’t do, since I’m neither Valor Reborn nor the person who drew Etherlight without a sigil.”
“Convenient excuse,” Saipha mutters.
Lucan shoots her a glare. “Why are you acting like I’m your enemy when we should be allies? I’m not keeping secrets from you—no need for any of us to keep things from one another.”
I catch Saipha’s eyes, and she arches a brow that asks,So you finally agreed?
“He’s on our side,” I say to her with a shrug, then give him a sidelong glance. “At least, I’m pretty sure he is after what happened today.” So much is wrapped into those words. Even as I say them, I can still feel the sensation of his arms around me. Him supporting me when I could barely keep myself upright.I have you. Those words are etched on my brain, embossed on my heart.
“You know I am,” he says, as if reading exactly where my mind is.
“No more secrets? Fine. Are you reporting to the vicar?” Saipha is still skeptical.
“I’d need to speak with him to report to him.” Lucan tears his attention from me to give my friend a dull look. “I’m as trapped here as you are. When could I be ‘reporting’?”
“Mercy Knights ultimately report to the vicar, and inquisitors are part of Mercy’s ranks. You could get information to them to be funneled back.”
“I’m not reporting to the vicar.” Lucan rolls his eyes. “But even if I were, it’s not as though I have anything to tell him that he doesn’t know. You think the inquisitors aren’t already telling himeverything?”
Saipha opens then shuts her mouth, stilling her retort. She clearly considers this. “But he did ask you to watch her.”
“Yes, so?”
“He did?” I ask softly.
Lucan looks back to me. “Obviously, he did.”
I nod, wishing the admission didn’t sting. I assumed as much…so why does it hurt to hear him say it out loud?
As if he can read my thoughts, Lucan adds, “But he asked everyone loyal to the Creed to do so. I wanted to ally with you for my own reasons.”
