“Because Martin will need you. And because there will be danger. You must never tell him I came here, for doing so can affect his choices, his actions. So much depends on him.”
Peter scratched the back of his neck, then clutched his amulet as he often did when troubled.
The priest reached across the bar and snatched the charm. “Where did you get this?”
“My mum. It was hers.”
“What was her name?”
“Rosemary.”
The priest drew back, murmuring, “Rosemary, Rosemary. Then, finally, he said, “Rossmari.” His hood lowered and raised. “You look like her, or rather, the illusion she conjured. But her hair was lighter.”
Peter scrubbed a hand through his artificially dark locks.
“Ah,” the priest said. “I see. Tell me. What happened to her?”
“The villagers killed her, called her a mage.”
For several long moments, the priest remained silent. Finally, he murmured, “For that, I am deeply sorry.”
“You knew her?”
The priest wafted out a sigh. “Yes. I am sad to hear of her passing. When she chose to flee E’Skaara, I’d hoped she’d have a peaceful life. Though she possessed some skill, she wasn’t powerful enough to join our battle.”
“Both Martin’s parents were killed by mage hunters. Did he tell you?”
“He didn’t need to. I have long waited for him. You, however, are most unexpected. Tell me, was your father a mage?”
“A what?”
“Did he have special powers or abilities?”
“I know what a mage is,” Peter snapped. “What does that have to do with my father?”
“I sense power in you.”
Da had predicted the weather and knew where to find a safe haven for theSeabirdwhen needed. There was nothing magical in those skills, was there?
“Now, please forgive me.” Faster than the eye could follow, the priest grasped Peter’s hand, laying his forearm bare.
Peter screamed when the priest sliced open his skin.
Peter stared at the now-healed wound on his inner wrist. A mark, which glowed if he stared too long. He’d been taught by his mother never to question a priest.
“Why?” he croaked, in a voice hoarse from screaming. That no tenants rushed down the stairs to investigate remained a mystery.
“You need protection, but you might have refused. My apologies, but in this, I couldn’t take a chance.” The priest followed Peter’s line of sight upward. “No one heard us. I put up silencing wards.”
How strange that the man never removed his hood or let so much as an inch of skin show. But… “Silencing wards?”
“I’ve no time to explain. These runes are for protection—your protection. One of my kind warded your tavern long ago, and it appears Martin has marked you as his own. None can harm you here unless the wards fall.” The priest rose from his seat at the bar. “Remember, Martin needs you. I see in your heart your need for him.”
“But—”
The priest held up a hand, giving his head a shake. “Listen to your heart.”
Without another word, the priest vanished. Vanished!
