What’s more, the angle of this knife’s hilt would mean it was nearly horizontal to the ground when the former Oracle was standing up. This wasn’t a downward or upward strike.
It’s very possible it was pitched at him from a distance. A clean and sudden kill shot.
Again, not a strike I’d imagine a simple villager could make.
Unless…that man was not a simple villager.
I recall the odd lilt to his voice, the unfamiliar accent, along with the absence of a tan on his skin. I’m not completely familiar with coastal culture or customs, but both of those stood out as unusual.
Reaching for the pouch of coins I confiscated from him, I’m frustrated to discover that a section of my robes is singed, and the bag must have split in the battle because only half of the coins remain. Many of those are blackened. The handwritten note he gave me crumbles to ash when I try to retrieve it.
Maxim’s fire must have reached me in the explosion, although my own power must have shielded me from feeling it at the time.
I mutter a curse beneath my breath, regretting now that I let that villager go so easily. I should have seized him and interrogated him.
There’s no point in searching for him now. If he were a trained assassin, he’d be long gone.
I have no doubt the little girl was his daughter. The best assassins are those who blend in. They have families and undertake ordinary work like other lowborn.
Damn. I didn’t realize, when I held his daughter in my arms, that I held enormous leverage over him.
I recall the scene on the beach, running it through mymind. The assassin must have come back for his family, only to find me holding his daughter, at which he decided to use a version of the truth to his advantage, confessing to a crime. Given that I now suspect the Oracle’s father was killed from a distance, the assassin probably cut his own hand, possibly using a second, concealed blade, to produce the blood that had washed into the water and supported his supposed remorse.
I lean back on my heels, a renewed flood of ice filling my cold heart.
I showed him mercy. I even rationalized it. And now I’ve let him escape.
That is what mercy gets me.
No more.
At that moment, Lilis reappears from within the smoke, bringing with her the acrid scent of doused flames. Behind her, the village is quieter than before, the calm broken only by thesizzlesandpopsof cooling wood.
While the other two Frost Fae stay close on her heels, Lilis pushes a villager ahead of her.
I take a quick note of his tan skin and long, dull-black hair, the strands tied back with leather strings. He’s clean-shaven, tall, and muscular but lean, wearing a simple tunic and long pants. A necklace of pale blue shells sits around his neck, his only adornment.
Lilis shoves him to his knees in front of me.
“Their leader,” she announces.
Since I’m also still kneeling, the villager is at eye level with me, and it’s easy to read his hatred before he pales and quickly averts his eyes.
I’m indifferent to the shock my features inspire. My pointed ears, paler-than-pale gray eyes, and sharp cheekbones, somehow made more spine-chilling by my long, ghostly-white hair.
It’s in my interest to use his sudden fear to my advantage.
I rise slowly to my feet, where I tower over him. He may be lofty for a lowborn, but I’m taller even than Antony and Maxim.
“My people have put out the fires caused by the Ember Fae,” I say to him. “You will repay this kindness with honesty.”
His lips compress as if he would defy me, but then he squeezes his eyes closed. A sign of capitulation before he asks, “What do you want to know?”
“There was a man among you. He had pale skin, a beard, and a birthmark on the left side of his neck. Tell me everything you know about that man, and I will let you live.”
To his credit, the villager looks up, his voice betraying not a hint of the fear I detected moments ago. “I will tell you what I know, but it isn’t much. His name is Stanimir. He came to us only three days ago with his wife and child. He said he needed work, so we gave him work. We accept all travelers here and don’t ask questions.”
“A traveler?” I keep my tone casual. “Where do you think he was traveling from?”
