The Kiss of Deception (The Remnant Chronicles, #1)(49)

I looked at him sideways. “People lie every day. Especially to the gods.”

He grinned. “Truer words were never said.”

“And which god did you pray to?”

“Does it matter? Don’t they all hear?”

I shrugged. “Capseius is the god of grievances.”

“Then it must have been he who listened.”

“I’m sure his ears are burning right now.”

Rafe laughed, but I stared straight ahead. There was no god of grievances called Capseius. The gods had no names at all, only attributes. The God of Creation, the God of Compassion, the God of Redemption, and the God of Knowledge. Rafe wasn’t devout. He wasn’t even learned in the most fundamental tenets of Morrighan Holy Truths. Did he come from such a backward place they didn’t even have a small Sacrista? Maybe that was why he didn’t want to talk about his roots. Maybe he was ashamed.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


THE PRINCE



I had spotted Enzo in the crowds just as we were arriving at the Sacrista. I surprised him, moving in close and clamping down on his arm. I made it clear with the tilt of my head that we were taking a little detour. We needed to talk. The sweat sprang to his brow instantly. At least he had the good sense to be worried.

I took him a fair distance away from the crowds, in case he was as much of a sniveling fool as I suspected. When we were out of sight, I slammed him up against the wall of the smithy. He raised his fists for a moment to fight back and then thought better of it, erupting in indignant wails.

I pushed him back against the wall so hard it shuddered. “Shut up! And listen to every word I say, because the next time we meet like this, one of us will be leaving without a tongue. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He nodded his head wildly, babbling yes over and over.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” I leaned close and spit out each word clear and low. “I was in the loft yesterday morning. I heard you talking to someone, and I heard you give directions to the upper road.” I paused, glaring long and hard. “And then I heard the jingle of coins.”

His eyes grew wide in horror.

“I never want another word about Lia to pass from your lips. And if one word should escape, even by chance, I’ll stuff every coin that’s in your greedy little palm down your throat right before I cut out your tongue. Do you understand me, Enzo?”

He nodded, his mouth firmly sealed shut in case I decided to make good on my threat now.

“And this will remain just between us, understood?”

He nodded vigorously again.

“Good fellow,” I said, and patted his shoulder.

I left him cowering against the wall. When I was a few yards away, I turned to face him again. “And, Enzo, just so you know,” I added cheerfully, “there’s no place on this continent where you can hide from me if I choose to find you. Wipe your nose now. You’ll be late for the sacraments.”

He stood there, still frozen. “Now!” I yelled.

He wiped his nose and ran, circling wide around me. I watched him disappear down the lane.

Don’t make matters worse.

It seemed they already were. If only I had been brave enough to refuse the marriage in the first place, she never would have had to run, she never would have had a knife held to her throat, she never would have had to work at an inn with a slimy lout like Enzo. If I had acted so she didn’t have to, everything would be different.

Don’t tell her who you are. Don’t make matters worse for Dalbreck or your fellow soldiers.

If I stayed here much longer, everyone would find out. Sooner or later, I would slip. Sven was smarter than I gave him credit for. He had known things would go wrong, but how could I have known that Lia would turn out to be someone so very different from the person I expected?





CHAPTER THIRTY


THE ASSASSIN



I sensed them long before I saw them.

It was the settling, my mother had called it, the balance of thought and intent pushing its way into new places, finding a place to settle, displacing the air. It made your fingertips tingle, your hair rise on your neck, it reached into your heart and added a beat, and if you were practiced, it spoke to you. The settling was strongest when those thoughts and intents were foreign, out of place, or urgent, and there was no one more out of place or urgent in Terravin than Griz, Malich, Eben, and Finch.

I skimmed the heads of the crowd, and Griz’s head easily loomed above the others. He wore his cap pulled low to shadow his face. His scars were a sure way to make small children shriek and grown men pale. When I was certain he’d seen me too, I wove my way through the crowd and slipped down a quiet lane, knowing they’d follow.

When we were a safe distance away, I spun around. “Are you nicked in the head? What are you doing here?”

“How long does it take to part a girl from her noggin?” Finch growled.

“You’re early. And there’ve been complications.”

“Curse it!” Griz said. “Pop her head tonight, and let’s go.”

“I’ll do it!” Eben said.

I shot Eben a menacing glare and looked back at Griz. “I’m still getting information. It might be useful to the Komizar.”

Griz squinted and raised a suspicious scarred brow. “What kind of information?”