“I don’t know,” she replied, somewhat honestly. What little she did know, she did not care to reveal. But she needed them to believe her. A few details couldn’t hurt. “It was a spell. I saw it with my own eyes. He – he carved it into his hand.”
“Hedidknow the spell,” said Bertrand. “I told you.”
“And I haven’t forgotten who else you told,” Anya cut in, heat rising in her chest.
Chastened, he pressed his lips together and ducked his head.
“And where are our dear friends Count Aquila and Claude?” David asked as if he knew the answer, but needed to hear it from Anya’s lips. “Neither has returned to the city, nor been seen in the country.”
“Aquila’s dead,” Anya said flatly.And good riddance. “I don’t know about Claude, but the Lichtenwald is less than generous with those who don’t respect it, as you all well know.”
“He did it, though,” Bertrand pressed, unable to help himself. He turned to David. “Palingenesis. I was on the right path.”
“I thought…eternal life, possibly, but to actuallytransform…”
“After all we’ve seen?” Bertrand leaned forward, raising his eyebrows. “Now who isn’t being serious?”
“But why?” David said with an incredulous laugh. “Why would he do that?”
Bertrand shrugged. “To sever his bond. To live forever. To get back at Edgard. Pick one.”
“Exactly what kind of help do you need, then?” David demanded, turning back to Anya. “If he’s worked out the spell, if he’s changedhimself, great fame and fortune await him, just like he wanted. Has he turned on you? That’s unfortunate, but I won’t pay for his mistakes–”
“He did it to save her,” Sabina interrupted softly. He and Bertrand both looked at her, befuddled. “He gave himself up for her. To break your curse. Didn’t he?”
David’s forehead creased. “Curse? What curse?”
All eyes upon her once more, Anya found herself at a loss for words.
“Perrine figured it out,” Sabina said, still looking at Anya, a strange expression on her face. “Anya was cursed by a witch for killing her familiar. She wanted a new one. The phoenix. That was the only way to break your curse. And here you stand.”
As he put the pieces together, David’s face drained of all color. “He – he made himself the witch’s familiar.”
“The witch who was turning Anya into a bug,” Bertrand clarified, attempting to catch up.
Anya stepped toward David, imploring. “I need your help to get him back. It isn’t a curse like mine – it’s an enchantment. A bond. Killing her will break it. I cannot kill her with weapons. But if I had your magic–”
“Our oath forbids us from sharing our secrets. Or,” he added, when Anya opened her mouth to protest, “doing harm. Even if we think the other deserves it.”
“And how exactly did you come to possess my shotgun?”
Briefly, his mouth hung open. “It – it was only a sleeping spell.”
“Right,” she said skeptically. She’d made her point. She took a steadying breath. “He has the phoenix’s magic, now. It’s stronger than the witch’s, but he’s bound to her will. She’s as bad as your king. She’ll keep to the Lichtenwald for now, so it will only be people like me who suffer. But with that kind of power at her disposal – it may not be this year, or the next, but she’ll come for this city and your king, and she does not remember either fondly.”
“...Even if we think the other deserves it,” he repeated, but with far less assurance.
Anya lost her fragile composure. “How is it not doing harm to stand by and let others cause it when you have the power to stop it? You play parlor games when you could cure every ill beggar on the street! You let petty tyrants impose their will, let them steal the choice from those who have already had everything else stripped from them! Butah, at least you have kept your oath!”
“We can’t always stop it,” he objected. Bertrand and Sabina watched between the two of them like following a volleyed ball. “Sy knew that better than anyone.”
“Well, you can now. This once.” She swallowed. “Like he did.”
David laughed humorlessly. “I still struggle to believe Sy would sacrifice himself for anyone.” Anya rushed to contradict him but let herself be silenced by his lifted hand. “But that he could inspire such loyalty, even in one as stoic as yourself? That, I can believe. Even so, an oath is an oath. So long as one of us still holds it, it is sacred. I will be the one. I will not violate it.”
“Youroath,” Anya said hotly. “Notmine.”
“I will,” Sabina chimed in. They all looked at her. “I’ve no compunctions. The old biddy should get what’s coming to her.”
