And then he asks, like I didn’t just suggest unleashing untold destruction, “Ready to try some tomato?”
Gods, no.
I do it anyway.
He made an offer, even after what I just told him. I recognize the extension of grace for what it is.
The tomato is... hmm. Better with more egg.
Doesn’t seem like I actually like the tomato in that case.
I don’t like this subject either, so maybe that’s appropriate.
“My request was a strategic error,” I explain. “The priests wanted me to be able to work on the scale I had promised them, but I’d also made them afraid, you see? They had to assert their power over me. So after we arrived, they revealed the condition that I would be locked up, ostensibly to better facilitate my concentration. But of course, actually, to make it clear that they had the power.”
Zan lifts his fork to my mouth, this time with a mushroom on it.
I must be imagining the hint of glow in his eyes. He’s wearing a disguise, after all.
I recognize the mushroom but eat it anyway. Maybe that’s a different kind of offering.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it.
But I’m not imagining the hint of growl in his voice when he asks, “And you let them?”
I sigh. “Yes. If I’d killed them, there was a standing order to launch their full military might against me, and they had magical means of making that order trigger with any priests’ death. Ifanypriests died—even if they were the ones to kill themselves—the same. With an army of priests working together, they would beat me eventually. And if I had to use my power to overcome them—remember, they sent a full military cohort to escort me, which I should have understood the implications of sooner—I wouldn’t have enough power to activate the volcano. So I let them board me in to buy time, while they starved me until I’d be willing to commit mass murder.”
And you know what, I deserve to eateverythingnow.
Determinedly, I take another bite of my sandwich, maybe a little viciously.
Because maybe I deserved to eat everything before, too.
“But youdidn’tactivate the volcano,” Zan points out tightly.
It occurs to me, belatedly, that while this is all old news to me, it probably would be upsetting.
To someone who cares.
Someone who notices.
Even if he never lets himself be seen.
“Even though, I assume,” Zan says, “you were even more filled with wrath.”
I sigh, putting the sandwich down. “No. We had to pass through Crystal Hollow on the way to the trail, and it finally occurred to me that the eruption would still kill those people even if it also killed a lot of corrupt priests, and that would mean the Order won. There were more priests, after all.
“I wanted them to lose. So since I couldn’t leave, I decided to force their power out instead. They couldn’t send an army of priests after me if the priests couldn’t work any magic, after all.”
I pause. “I didn’t actually realize it would also kill them all. I probably should have, but a sage’s power is different from a priest’s—it wouldn’t have killed one of us.” With a sigh I pick up the remainder of my sandwich. “It seems that even after all that, I only partially succeeded.”
Zan takes the sandwich out of my hands, strips several items off of it, adds some of what’s on his plate, and holds it up to me. “Here. These are the parts you like that have flavors that will complement each other. Try again.”
I blink.
I lean forward and bite.
Wow. Thatisa lot better.
