“So you’re a former Arachessen. Still devoted to the gods. All by yourself.” He paused, as if lining up all of these incongruent, unlikely facts. “And the Arachessen let you leave.”
“I didn’t give them a choice.”
“You don’t look strong enough to evade them.”
No sarcasm, no double-speak. Surprising, but I could appreciate that.
It was a valid point. The Arachessen did not allow its members to leave their ranks. You joined for life. Death was the only escape, and they would make sure that anyone who did escape did it through that door alone.
“I’ve been running,” I said.
“Yet you’re still here in Glaea. One would think it would be smarter to get out of the country.”
“Your invasion made it hard to leave,” I snapped. “No ships out anymore. So thank you for that.”
His presence shifted. Interest. He leaned forward.
“So you need protection.”
I could sense him thinking. Considering. Did he need a seer so badly that he was willing to risk earning the attention of the Arachessen? Would one escaped Sister earn the same degree of attention he would have gotten from the order if he had kidnapped one of us? That had been too much risk for him, too much trouble.
But this… he was considering it.
It was stupid of him. If my tale had been true, the Arachessen would indeed have thrown as many resources as needed into finding and snipping that loose thread. A Sister carried many secrets. Dangerous to leave out in the world, let alone in the hands of a conqueror.
But his stupidity, at least, benefitted me now.
“Yes,” I admitted, between gritted teeth—like it pained me to say aloud.
“You can seer.”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The flap to the tent opened, and the guard returned again, grabbing my arms and wrenching them back.
I tried to pull away, to no avail.
“Get off me!” I snarled, with convincing desperation and a note of fear I was a little proud of. “Let me go!”
The conqueror stood there, his hands behind his back, watching as his men restrained me.
“No,” he said. “We’ll be needing your services.”
“I don’t offer any services,” I spat.
“You will help us,” he said, “or we will kill you. That’s the only choice I offer you.”
He stated it flatly. No dressing up, no games. I knew he meant it.
“But,” he went on, “I’m fair.”
“Fair?”
“You need protection. You’ll have it. And you want to leave Glaea. You’ll have that, too, once we’re done with you.”
I scoffed. “You expect me to believe that you won’t simply kill me when you’re done with me?”
It was almost funny to me that he was even pretending otherwise. Even if he had completed his task, it would be stupid to let me go. Just like it was stupid of him to keep me knowing the Arachessen wanted me.
He seemed offended that I’d question his truthfulness. “I don’t lie.”
“Everyone lies.”
“Not me.” He stepped closer, closer, until he stood right in front of me again, the scent of salt and iron thick in my nostrils. “Don’t be foolish. Maybe I haven’t been in this country long, but I already see it isn’t different from mine in any way that matters. You won’t outlast the Arachessen another month without me. Don’t spit in the face of your protector. Accept a gift when it’s offered to you.”
My mouth twisted into a sneer—this one too easy to fake. I wondered if he had convinced himself he was this country’s savior, too. “So benevolent of you.”
I jumped a little, startled, as he touched my cheek, the rough pad brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“You’re lucky,” he said, “that I have a soft spot for caged birds.”
7
I was brought to my own tent. My wrists were shackled, and I was chained to the center post. At least, in a small show of mercy, the restraints were long enough that I was given some room to move around. There, I was left alone for hours.
Eventually, I leaned against the post and reached through the threads that connected me with the others here. If I guessed correctly, it would be past midnight by now, and the camp was abuzz with activity. The tent’s fabric was thick, making it difficult to make out the specifics of what was being said outside, but I caught fragments of grumbled conversations about exhaustion or hunger, and pieces of orders shouted at slacking young soldiers in Obitraen.