“Because you also don’t want a damagedmagvisby your side,” I concluded.
“No, I don’t. But for very different reasons than Koerlyn’s.”
* * *
The bodies still hung from the wall walk on the far side of the training grounds. The four men who’d almost killed me in the kitchen were now mottled, gray ornaments against the Citadel’s stones, thankfully far enough away from the room’s window that I couldn’t make out any more details. Harthon had left them there as a warning against future attacks on me. Weeks later, he still hadn’t taken them down.
And he may very well be planning to add another body to the count.
Stefano had informed me that Jac was being held prisoner. Harthon had yet to mete out his punishment—and therewouldbe punishment. Jac committed treason. Not only had he brought me to Koerlyn’s men, but he’d allowed his mercenaries to infiltrate the Citadel the night before. Yet, if what he’d told me was true, he’d had no choice. His family’s lives were at stake. He was a victim as much as he was an actor. To see his skin turn the same shade of death, to see him reduced to a symbolic corpse, would be so terribly wrong.
A throat cleared. “Etarla, would you like to share what occurred?” Ana’s voice, a coaxing note to it, pulled me back into the space.
I surveyed the table and the wealthy Lords seated there, all watching me with a range of wariness, curiosity, and expectation. And then there was Jonathan, who’d made his disdain for me plenty apparent at our last meeting and did the same now. Wispy white strands were combed across his bald head, and gold chains threatened to crack his shriveled neck in two. He regarded me as if I were an atrocity, lifting his nose with an air of condescension, waiting for my response.
It was enough to give life to a feeling besides exhaustion: anger.
Gripping onto that emotion, I looked Jonathan directly in the eyes, remembering how much my own unsettled him. The bob of his wrinkled, sagging throat suggested I’d accomplished my goal.
“I went for a ride outside the city walls, accompanied by one of Harthon’s men. Unfortunately, it was there we came upon a group of mercenaries disguised as villagers making a trek to the city center. They took me and poisoned me, transporting me to their Territory unconscious.”
“Excuse me,magvis,if I may.” The polite interruption came from a handsome, middle-aged man down the table—Harold, as I’d learned last time. “The Citadel was infiltrated the night before, and you were not to leave the city walls. Why were you riding?”
It was a fair question, one I’d anticipated. “The city center is too…stiflingfor my kind. Time in nature is like sustenance to me.”
Was that actually true for amagvis? I had no clue. But it sounded legitimate.
The Lord across from me, a man with dark hair and hawkish features, tilted his head. He was one of the only Lords to meet my gaze at our last meeting. This man didn’t fear me as Jonathan did, and I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.
“While that may be true, you could not have waited a few days to leave the city walls?” he asked.
I tipped my lips in an unbothered smile. “No. My urges are not governed by the same laws as humans. While I understood there were risks to being outside the walls, I was confident in my ability to leave Koerlyn, if required at a later time.”
“And how is it his men were able to take you? Considering your power, I suppose I’m…surprised you were so easily taken.”
Was it innocent curiosity or shrewd suspicion?
“I am powerful, yes. But my power is taxing, both on me and the surrounding area. It’s something to only be wielded when necessary. As I said, I was certain I could escape whenever needed, so I didn’t bother to reach for that power within me.”
“I’ve heard that the soldier you were with returned to the Citadel.” The Lord cocked his head. “Unharmed, apparently.”
“I ordered him to leave while I faced the men alone. I didn’t want any casualties.”
“I am surprised a high-ranking soldier wouldn’t have insisted on giving his life for amagvis.”
“He was following orders given by his superior,” Harthon interjected, saving me from having to create another fib. “That said, hisfailure,” he punctuated the word, “was unacceptable. He will face the consequences of this in the coming days.”
A euphemism for death.
He was going to kill Jac, who was as much a victim of Koerlyn’s threats as me. Unless, of course, I found some way to convince him otherwise.
Like that’s even possible.
The Lord didn’t challenge me further—outwardly, at least—but the inquisitive tip of his head and evaluation in his beady eyes suggested our responses hadn’t appeased him.
Themagviswouldn’t care. Doing my best to appear indifferent, I continued, “I woke up in an inn located in a small city. Koerlyn had bound me, thinking to contain me.” I tossed the Lords a self-assured smirk. “He couldn’t, of course. I freed myself from the restraints and easily escaped once night fell.”
Finished, I waited for questions.
