Ah yes, the formalities of having an attack squad behind you.
An attack squad that is moving slowly through a form that I keep half an eye on.
“You still have not introduced yourself,” I remind her gently.
While inside, my anger is rising.
Thisisa blatant attempt at manipulation.
The real question is, how much of it is coming from her?
Does she want to go inside to separate her from the people who are keeping her captive?
The red-rimmed priest behind makes no moves to gainsay her, but that could mean she is playing her own game under his nose.
I did, after all.
“Oh, you really don’t know, then?” the sage asks.
Damn it again. I’ve given myself away after all, it seems, if she’s apparently well-known enough that anyone would recognize her.
That isverydifferent from my time.
Zan finally speaks from beside me. “This is Eraya,” he says. “The Sage of Compassion. She often speaks on behalf of the Order.”
Oh, that’s clever. Letting someone of her charisma be the mouthpiece, to make the priests seem oh-so-reasonable.
That means she’s likely not as innocent as she pretends.
And I think I know, now, what the priests’ slow form is doing.
Taking the strength of her compassion, and magnifying it, in an attempt to make me more receptive.
Now that I’m looking for it, I feel it—and see it, like light glinting around us.
That’s why I didn’t notice before, of course; I thought it was just sunlight.
It’s a light touch that will no doubt increase, but now that I know what they’re doing, my own wrath rises.
It is more than enough to keep them from influencing me in that way.
Eraya’s gaze alights on Zan for the first time. “I don’t know what the dragon has told you, but I promise you that we mean you no harm. Quite the opposite.”
“He hasn’t told me anything of the kind,” I say mildly. “We’ve had many other things to discuss.”
Etiquette among normal people may be a mystery to me.
But dancing this dance—fielding probing questions from priests who mean me harm, and navigating a path through them—
That,I’ve practiced for a lifetime.
“Oh, really?” Eraya asks. “Like what?”
Do you know the names of the trees?
“Have you ever tried Evermore Blackberries?” I ask. “I never knew about them, but they grow wild here.”
See, look, I can be innocuous and innocent too!
