Stide sniffs in response, but Thessa stays silent. Morality matters to her, and she feels bad about their actions. That’s good to know.
‘You’re being foolish,’ Stide continues. ‘You should run while you have the chance. Any moment now, our vast numbers will be upon you.’
‘She’s lying,’ Caz says with quiet confidence.
Thessa’s eyes widen. ‘You’re a diviner of truth?’ She looks at Caz with renewed wonder. ‘What a blessing.’
‘It’s actually somewhat of a curse,’ Caz sighs. ‘People lie. A lot. Like Stide just did.’
‘Lies!’ Loch shrieks abruptly in agreement. His body jerks, eyes wide. ‘The Quiet Ones are lonely. So few Quiet Ones. So lonely. So little magic. So empty.’
Even beneath the fox mask, I catch their scowls.
‘So we’re not quite as outnumbered as you want us to believe,’ I say mildly. ‘With that in mind, I’ll ask you one more time. Who are you? What do you want withus?’
‘We have questions of our own,’ Thessa replies primly. ‘You answer ours. We’ll answer yours.’
‘What was that thing?’ Benny asks. ‘The tree? You’ve been giving us vague half answers all day. What was it?’
Thessa’s mouth tightens. ‘Tell us first where you got that blade from. One such as you should not have it.’
‘And why is that?’ I ask, interest piqued. What do they know of the weapon at my hip?
‘It is the Gods’ gift. For the Vind. The Gods’ chosen children.’
The Vind? I’ve never even heard of such a people. Then again, I hadn’t heard of the Quiet Ones before either. Maybe the Vind is their name for themselves?
‘A gift from the Gods, hey? That’s interesting, because I happen to have been gifted by the Goddess Etta herself in the recent Retterheld. So it’s no wonder the dagger is mine.’
My voice sounds confident, which truthfully is not how I’m feeling. The knife being left in my family’s possession pre-dates me becoming the gifted by decades. Which means what? That they had somehow decided I would be gifted before I was even conceived? The very thought of it makes my spine crawl.
Nobody likes to think of their actions as being predestined, predetermined. We each make our own choices in life – don’t we?
‘Who are you?’ I press.
Thessa frowns. ‘You already have our names.’
‘Who we are is more than the sounds by which we are known,’ I say impatiently. ‘Where are you from? And what magic do you possess? There are other Quiet Ones … so where are they?’
‘I don’t know,’ Thessa replies. ‘We have had to spread ourselves thin, trying to delay his return.’
‘His return? Whose?’ It’s my turn to frown, and I look to Benny and Caz. ‘Is it true what she says? That she doesn’t know where the rest of their people are?’
Benny presses his lips together. ‘I’m not sure.’ He looks her over again. ‘She’s afraid of something.’
Wanting a more definite answer, I turn to Caz, but she’s not looking at me. Instead, she’s staring at the women.
‘Caz?’ I ask gently.
She twists around to face me. Her cheeks pale. ‘The Sanning,’ she whispers, her voice cracked and raw.
Stide and Thessa stiffen visibly at the word, and Caz’s hand shakes as she lifts it to cover her mouth in disbelief.
‘The Sanning,’ she says again as her eyes drift back to the women. ‘That was who Rohan had me writing about. I knew he believed what he was saying, but—’ She cuts herself off.
I frown, recalling Rohan’s numerous ramblings, but it was all absurd nonsense … was it not?
‘Caz?’ I say again. ‘Who are the Sanning?’
