Slaying the Vampire Conqueror(16)

“When you see the moon rise, some might say there’s something more to it than coordinates in the sky.”

For some reason, I found myself unwillingly thinking of my little painting of the sea.

It’s the ocean.

No, it is paper.

The memory hit me with an uncomfortable pang I didn’t want to look at too closely. I shrugged it away.

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Just wondering if you’re smart enough to know the value of things that can’t be quantified. Like the value of the offer I made you.”

“I don’t think it was an offer. Offers can be accepted or rejected.”

“You can reject it.”

“But you’ll kill me after.”

He didn’t say anything. Just gave me a grim little half-smile.

“I don’t like forcing people to do things,” he said. “Bad way to earn loyalty. And I do require your loyalty, and your services. I can take them permanently, or you can offer them temporarily. I can get them by your fear or your choice. I’d rather the latter, but I’ll do either.”

“So why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Seems a shame for my generosity to go unappreciated.”

I was silent for a long moment. I let him believe it was because I was considering his words, but instead, I was considering how much I should let him win now.

I should give him something. Not all of it—that would be too easy. Plus, the thought of rolling over for him…

It made me think of his entry on our shores. Raeth’s body beneath his armies.

I was supposed to be the good actress, the perfect spy, playing my role without complaint. My personal feelings shouldn’t matter. And yet… I couldn’t shake that anger when I considered the possibility of complete acquiescence.

No. Not yet.

But I’d give him something.

“The Arachessen are more effective and persuasive than you can possibly know,” I said haltingly.

“I’ve had plenty of experience with cults.”

I hated how dismissively he called us a cult.

“They’re worse,” I bit out. “Worse than you can imagine. They see everything. As long as I remain in Glaea, it’s only a matter of time before they find me.”

“I already told you that—”

“You can’t protect me from them.”

He laughed.

Outright laughed, from deep in his chest, like what I’d just said was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. The sound was rough and unpracticed, like he did it very rarely.

I was a bit offended on behalf of my Sisterhood.

“You laugh because you don’t know them,” I said.

“I laugh because you don’t know me.”

He straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. “I told you, Sylina, I do not lie. If I say it, it is true. I protect my people. If you’re one of mine, the Arachessen will not touch you.”

Such hubris. And yet, he didn’t say any of it with the boastfulness of a bragging commander. He said it as if was nothing more than fact, and his presence radiated not cocky showmanship but steady truth.

He believed it.

That was strange to me, that a man who recognized the power of the Arachessen—recognized their ability to make trouble for him—would still be willing to cross them on my behalf.

It was confusing.

I let out a sigh, showing him all my reluctant consideration, carefully measured. “I don’t understand how you can make that promise.”

“You don’t have to understand. You just have to seer.”

He stepped away from the rock, extending his hand, the question silent but obvious: Deal?

I drew my lips thinly together. The thought of taking his hand sickened me.

But those were the feelings of Sylina, Arachessen spy. Not Sylina, desperate fugitive.

I took it. His grip was rough and calloused.

“Good,” he said firmly. Like that was that.

He released my hand, and I felt his skin burning against my palm long after. He leaned against the rock again, arms crossed, taking me in.

“Now,” he said, “about the seering.”





Atrius’s army was, apparently, so active right now because they were preparing to leave and continue on their conquering path. He told me this flatly, in simple fact. He withdrew a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket and flattened it best he could against the smooth side of the rock, revealing a map of Glaea. He pointed to a city-state just north of here: Alka.

“You know it?”

“Of course.”

I didn’t bother hiding my distaste. It was a bleak, dark place. The Pythora King had given most city-states to his cronies to rule over in absolute power, and the one that held Alka was a warlord, Aaves, who was among the worst of them. Like most of the Pythora King’s followers, he kept his population drugged and starving and his warriors drugged and strong. Worse, most of the city was built directly into the stone and sea, so the whole place was constructed of narrow tunnels and rickety bridges over brackish, pest-infested waters. I’d been sent on several missions there over the years, and all of them had been miserable.

I could understand why Atrius was concerned about taking Alka. It was so decentralized and so difficult to navigate that numbers alone wouldn’t be enough to hand him victory.