Martin whipped his head around to face Dmitri. “How do you know that? And how do you know he’s my friend?”
“I’m a mage.”
Martin glowered.
Dmitri sighed. “I know he hopes to be Chosen because any novice who’s been here as long as he is bound to want better things. Would you want to be a novice all your life, waiting on the whims of the more powerful? And I know he is your friend because he waits by the gate on days you’re on duty.”
No, Martin wouldn’t want to serve the more powerful. He wouldn’t want to be in service at all. “All those people around him and Cere still seemed so… lonely. He’s asked me to present myself to the temple elders many times. I have no desire to join with those who killed my parents. Besides, Chosen rarely venture from the confines of the temple. I’d no longer hunt demons in the night, no longer be free to wander the city after dark.”
“No longer be free to visit a certain tavern,” Dmitri supplied, a touch of mischief in his voice.
Martin stopped, a chill running down his spine. “You… you know about that?”
“You’d be surprised what I know. However, there’s nothing wrong with drinking among the common folk. It’s a credit to your skill that they haven’t figured out your true nature. Most of the folk on this end of town, well, let’s say they don’t hold most guards in high esteem. But I’ve often wondered how the Lady’s followers can serve a people they do not know, save for those who arrive in fine carriages. We priests walk among the people, bestowing the Father’s blessing on the deserving. We do not call the joining of two bodies worship. Joining between lovers is sacred, but still, not worship.” Dmitri sniffed. “There’s little difference between the matron in silk and the fisherman who works the wharves when it comes to finding paid pleasure. Money crosses palms to get what they want.”
Martin passed a hand through his hair. “Cere says I look the part, but I’d never be mistaken for one of the Lady’s ilk.” Not with his lack of adornment and modest clothing when he left the high city. No earrings graced his ears nor bangles, his wrists. They’d cause too much noise, a constant annoyance to Martin’s hunter soul.
“You wouldn’t. Which gives you an advantage. You can blend in among the common folk. You’ve never shown interest in religion. You do what you do because it’s right, not because you feel it necessary to appease some higher power.”
Martin resumed walking. “Are we going to the docks?” The scent of salt air carried on the breeze. He felt out of place in his visit-the-temple formal uniform, drawing questioning glances from passersby on streets where he normally evaded notice.
“We’re merely going for a walk.”
Martin’s hackles rose, but he didn’t let his inward concern show.
“Sometimes, our paths are clear and direct. Other times the way grows murky.” Dmitri’s words kept pace with his footfalls. “Then there are those who aren’t meant to follow the path but to blaze their own trail.”
Did the man ever just speak his mind and not talk in riddles? “Something troubles me, Father.”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
Martin sucked in a deep breath. After so many hours mulling over a few short words, he’d nearly convinced himself he’d imagined them. “The night we met, that creat… demon told me his master wanted me. Who is his master, and why would his master want me?”
If Martin hadn’t been watching so closely, he might have missed the sudden tightening of Dmitri’s shoulders. “Those were his exact words?”
“Yes.” Ah, so Dmitri didn’t know everything.
For several blocks, Dmitri said nothing, finally breaking the silence with, “I suppose his master wants as much magic as he can claim, and you have strong magical potential. But, Martin?”
“Yes?”
“Please be cautious when you leave home at night.”
Martin stopped short. What were they…? Why were they…?
The tavern.
“Enjoy your eve. Meet me outside your dwelling tomorrow after dark.” Dmitri reached under his cloak and withdrew a hide-covered tome. “Read. And practice.”
Martin cast his gaze across the street to the familiar place where he’d spent eves, pocketing the book.
“Why have you brought me here?” Did Dmitri know something more than Martin’s longing for good ale and companionship?
No answer.
He turned and found himself alone. Dressed as a guard, he’d never dare enter the tavern. Not tonight. Still, why bring him here?
He heard Dmitri’s words again.You’d be surprised what I know.
