“Exactly.” He leaned on the wall opposite me. The Traveler was tall and broad beneath his robes. Even from across the room, I tilted my chin to keep his gaze.
My face scrunched. This issue had been addressed. The question asked and answered. Why would he continue to press?
I arched my brow. “As I understand it, lives are not meant to belivedonce a mortal enters the Hive.”
“That can be true. For some.” The Traveler was alluding to something…but what?
He withheld the information amidst more infuriating silence, testing my piqued curiosity. I knew better than to take the obvious bait, but I needed to know. Reluctantly, I inquired, “And for others?”
A satisfied smirk flashed across his angled features.
“For others…” The Traveler moved to the window and traced a finger along the sill. He clicked his tongue at the grime. “Others find the Hive to be a most welcoming and comfortable home.”
I sensed deception lacing his words. While Travelers’ robes were modeled after the traditional garb of holymen, they were not held to the same expectations of honesty or morality. No, he could skirt the boundaries of truth. Dilute accuracy. Contort facts. All in the name of securing a tribute to the Hive.
“As a slave.” A statement, not a question, flew out of me before I could consider the repercussions of the comment.
“As aguest,” the Traveler amended with upturned palms.
“As ameal.”My quick retort earned a delighted expression.
This was not a game of cat and mouse. We were both feline—clever and nimble. I could tell this visit wasn’t going as expected, and he was rethinking his approach.
“Lady Ashf—Bergmont, I sense your emotions are running high with your impending sentence. I’ll do you the voluntary kindness of forgiving you for this small measure of hostility.” His stern tone was a direct opposite of his playful expression. A ruse, for eavesdropping guards maybe.
I rolled my tongue over the roof of my mouth.All right. Let’s play.“Apologies, Lord Traveler.”
We resumed our game. His cloak danced across the stone floor as he moved to sit.
“Wine,” he called as he crossed an ankle over his knee.
The door opened a moment later. A second hooded man, younger than my inquisitive visitor, entered with two golden chalices. In the dim light, the inky liquid looked more like blood than wine. A shiver pressed my spine.
“Thank you,” I said half-heartedly as I lifted the cup to study its contents.
“Takethatwith you when you go.” The Traveler pointed to the execution block, then locked his eyes back on me. “Lady Bergmont won’t be needing any more practice this evening.”
A strained grunt leaked from the second hooded man as he lifted and carried the execution block away. A seed of concern took root in me, as if the block’s presence in my cell rather than the courtyard ensured my survival.
My throat turned to dust as a new pang of fear rushed through me.
Then, the Traveler lifted his cup. “To your soul’s safe passage.”
I steadied my expression and returned the salute with a silent smile. The cold metal of the cup met my lips. I held it there, taking a brief pause to smell for any toxic elements. I found only the earthy notes of coveted northern wine. No unmistakable iron tang of blood, no putrid hints of detectable poison. The Crown wouldn’t appreciate their most prolific criminal passing away before my rendezvous with death, and the Traveler would have known that too.
His watchful gaze remained on me. Tracked me as I evaluated the liquid. Assessed me assessing him.
I took a large drink. Death would cradle me in a few hours anyway. The familiar spirit burned a sliding trail into my belly like a warm embrace.
Pleased with my decision, he continued, “Where were we?”
“Discussing theopportunityof life at the Hive.” My thinly veiled sarcasm sank to the bottom of my goblet.
He scoffed. “That’s right. For those with certain skills or talents, the community at the Hive can be gracious, generous, and welcoming.”
My muscles knotted at the wordtalents. He knew.
The Traveler squinted, recognizing the crack in my calm demeanor and the opportunity to strike. “It’s rumored you’ve honed a particular ability that could be of use to the Hive.” He sipped from his cup.
