“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.
I told him this, and his brow lowered as he inclined his chin.
“You’re right. That’s why we have you.”
“You expect a seer to get you out of this situation.”
He smiled faintly. He said nothing, but his presence said, Yes.
Even if the Bloodborn liked to make use of seers, it was strange to use them in this way—for something so specific. Visions were cryptic and unpredictable. They weren’t instructions or even guideposts—nothing concrete. The images were often difficult to make out and even harder to make sense of. The best seers in the world might have strong enough connections to the gods to be able to ask specific questions and get specific answers—or something close—but I certainly wasn’t one of them. In fact, I didn’t like seering much. Too abstract. I didn’t like to relinquish that much control.
“If I ask the gods how you can conquer Alka,” I said, “they aren’t going to just respond by giving you a map and a set of instructions.”
“I know,” he replied simply.
That was all. He just waited, expectant.
“I gave you an order,” he said.
“Now? And you’ll stand here and watch me?”
“Yes.”
It felt wrong, to seer with him just staring at me, like I was doing something intimate with a very unpleasant audience. But while I was willing to put up a little bit of a fight just to make him trust his victories, I also knew which fights weren’t worth having, and this was one of them.
I sighed.
“Fine,” I said. “Help me build the fire.”