“You made it clear to me that you understood seering to be unpredictable,” I said. “Perhaps you avoided a greater bloodshed, or an all-out defeat, by acting when you did.”
“Tell me,” he said, “was the entire vision a fabrication, or just parts of it?”
“I risked my life to save your men. Would I do that if I was trying to sabotage you?”
He seemed unfazed. “If you were smart, then yes.”
Weaver damn him.
“I have no interest in working for a man who doesn’t understand the nature of seering,” I scoffed. “To think I actually started to believe that you were more enlightened than the others. You’re just another self-absorbed king who wants to be told what he wants to hear.”
I had watched Atrius kill enough times by now to recognize the way he coiled, like a snake preparing to strike.
Weaver, I was going to die here if I didn’t come up with something, and fast. But then, he also hadn’t killed me yet. If he’d really been fully convinced of my dishonesty, he wouldn’t have bothered to allow me to talk.
He needed me. He knew it. He wanted me to give him something that would make him believe me.
Desperate, I reached for the threads, the sudden push greeting me with a stab of pain to the back of my head. Atrius’s presence was a wall, as always, but I followed the threads to him and pushed—pushed—
Give me something, Weaver. Anything.
With enough force, sometimes an Arachessen could snag bits and pieces from a person’s past or future, like a difficult, highly-abridged, even-less-useful version of seering. Usually, it provided nothing useful. But I was desperate.
I pushed against Atrius’s presence and was greeted with a barrage of fragmented images and emotions.
Mountaintop night sky cold cold cold the prince isn’t moving blood on a blade wipe it with cloth the prophecy was a lie a sea of ash a sky of mist and—
“The prophecy,” I blurted out. “I know about the prophecy.”
Atrius’s shock actually showed in his face. Radiated from his presence. He lowered his sword a little in a way that seemed unintentional.
Then a sheet of cold rage fell over his gaze.
“What are you talking about?” he snarled.
I’d just made a huge mistake.
“You didn’t let me complete my Threadwalk,” I said, carefully. “You stopped me. Because you didn’t like the… grounds upon which I tread.”
“Don’t seer about me.”
I raised my palms a little more. “I know. But because you stopped me, you didn’t get the full truth.”
His throat bobbed. He looked genuinely torn as to whether to kill me or not.
“What did you see about the prophecy?”
I smiled sweetly at him. “I’ll tell you if you promise not to kill me.”
“I don’t make those kinds of promises.”
“I’ll take a lowered sword.” I wanted that thing out of my face. It was still covered with the guts of Aaves’s goons. What an insulting way to die.
He ceded. Barely.
I leaned back against the wall.
“Tell me,” he demanded. His shoulders were heaving in a way that I suspected had nothing to do with the exertion of the last several hours, which didn’t seem to bother him until now.
I noted this carefully—this prophecy. The mountain. Nyaxia.
The prince.
All these things were very important to Atrius. The only times I had ever witnessed him upset were when they were mentioned.
That was useful.
“The truth?” I said, raising my palms in concession. “Maybe it’s a mistake telling you this, but what I know is vague. Only that it exists. I sensed it in my Threadwalk. After I saw… you. If you won’t take my head off for making that reference.”
Atrius didn’t take my head off, but he still looked like he was considering it.
“I know you have a greater mission,” I said quietly. “I know this is about more than just conquering for you. Even if not, I can’t offer you the specifics. Not without your cooperation.”
Weaver, I was pushing it. And yet, somehow, even as the words flowed over my lips, something deep inside me thought… perhaps they were true. There was more to this than Atrius was showing me.
His face shifted, revealing so little and so much—all but confirming my suspicions.
“What benefit do I have in lying to you, Atrius?” I murmured. “Either you kill me, or the Arachessen will. To be honest, I would prefer you do it.” My toe nudged one of the bodies on the ground. “At least you’re swift about it.”