For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the space between us as I scrambled to think of a clever reply—or any reply at all.
Something with claws flared behind his eyes. It examined me with such intense scrutiny that I was left speechless for a second time.
I might’ve missed the flicker of his eyes to the corpse, the twitch in his jaw, if I hadn’t been constantly watching him, searching for whatever came next. He’d shown the faintest shiver of discomfort, like he wasn’t as untouchable as he wanted to seem.
The moment broke as cleanly as my vials. All traces of humanity were gone from his expression just as quickly as they’d arrived. He returned to being the cold, hard dealer of death.
He dropped his gaze and turned back to his ruthless work, yanking the coin pouch free and tossing it. It landed with a clatter on the blood-slicked counter beside the mercenary’s death-frozen face.
“You see theft,” he said, his voice now a low rumble. “I see the consequences of his ill treatment of you. And for your lost business.”
“What?” I gaped, disgust rising like bile. “My business will only suffer because you cut him in half on my market stall…my lord.”
His jaw worked. “He was found guilty of murder, rape, torture, and mutilation. His sentence has been passed.” The mage’s deep voice was matter-of-fact. It wasn’t cruel but rang with finality.
Turning his head slightly, he shouted to the guards, “I’d be happy to demonstrate that again with one of you. Clean. Now.”
The sound shattered the fragile spell of silence still lingering around us, and I flinched.
I forced an innocent, obedient smile onto my face, trying to cover how truly shaken I was. Numbly, I watched as the mage executioner scrutinized me with that same unnerving intensity. He studied my lips for another long moment then sneered and turned away.
By all the gods, what kind of man could cleave someone in two and still find the time to study my smile?
Only after he vanished into the crowd did I finally feel the deep, reverberating echoes of his regret and sorrow. I swore the trailing end of his magic brushed mine in farewell.
My breath caught.
I hadn’t feltanythingfrom him before. Not anger, not satisfaction, not even indifference. For someone like me, that was impossible.
My sixth sense, the one that let mages feel magic, told me the well of power within that man was enormous. Like his emotions, I hadn’t sensed it at first because I’d been too overwhelmed by the mercenary’s terror, too busy trying not to drown in the blood and my own fear.
The guards finally moved. Two lifted the legs, two the torso. None of this was done with reverence for the dead or even with a mind to spare the gawking crowd from the gruesome sight. I remained plastered to my seat, unable to move, but they paid me no mind.
One wiped up the blood that slicked my stall and swept the broken glass and ruined herbs into a waiting bucket. Another cleaned the ground.
They’d had all these materials with them. Was the mage executioner in the habit of such acts in public places?
That awful, wet crack still echoed in my head. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t decide which was worse: feeling too much or feeling nothing at all.
A shiver ran down my spine. I prayed I’d never have to see that man again.
But the gods only laughed in my face.
Chapter 2
Emrys
The chancellor of the Mage Assembly had removed the usual pile of books from his desk in anticipation of my arrival. Not out of respect for my station or even common courtesy—I didn’t deserve either—but because the last time I’d visited his office in Caervorn, I’d set his correspondence on fire. Accidentally, of course.
He was broadening with age, his once-brown hair now mostly gray, his pale skin wrinkled. Maeron’s look matched his office, undecorated but functional. The room held a plain wooden desk, meeting chairs, several braziers for warmth, and bookcases bursting with scrolls and books, with no adornments other than curtains on the windows.
“So…my bloody spectacle in the market suited your purposes after all,” I said, my voice like flint.” It’s good to know that feeding my disgusting urges can still be calledjustice—as long as it’s useful to you.”
The chancellor shifted uneasily. “You’ve been summoned—”
“I know why I was summoned. Get to the part where you pretend this meeting is about diplomacy.”
“Very well.” His smile was little more than a subtle twitch of his lips but still somehow knowing. After my outburst, he spoke with less certainty and more caution. “You returning to share the throne with Nisien has created complications. The Assembly wants the rule of Darreth to be uni—”
