Page 50 of Deadly Maiden

From the state of it, the road is maintained by some degree of magik—perfectly levelled and lacking potholes, surfaced with good stone and gravel. Purple-and-red robins and green sparrows flit by, chirping. Dappled shadows drape across the road. When we can keep to them, the trees shield us from whatever else might fly overhead.

Again, I angle my neck, peering upward. “No blood hawks.”

“No.”

Around us, the trees thin and a fence appears to one side. Another half an hour of walking and the road slopes downward.In the distance are hints of the town of Venin—a smokiness about the sky, a busy crossroads ahead, then a small caravan of carts and riders passes. None of them seem interested in us, or not beyond the normal.

I ease the straps on my pack, swing it to the ground, and stop for a drink of water. “You said we could talk about where to go.”

“Where to go will depend on where it is safe for you,” he muses. “Unless you have reasons to be elsewhere? If you want to remain near your foster-father?—”

“My father,” I assert.

“Yes.”

I let out a sigh. “I wish I could, but I know I can’t.”

“Things may change with time. However, King Madlin and Queen Ruelle rule Zardrake and Orencia, and that is unlikely to change.”

“Orencia might be safer? It was ruled by the Chained King, up until the last war. Slaedorth is there.”

“You think you could live there without being detected?” He glances at me.

“There are still rebels?—”

He shakes his head. “No. That life is violent and often short. I’ve heard stories. There is a Church of the Usurper associated with the rebels, and those are extremists. They even encourage self-sacrifice if it may advance their cause—freeing their king.”

I blink at that. “Self-sacrifice? You mean killing yourself?”

He nods, takes the canteen from me, gives me a kind look and a squeeze of my shoulder.

“The world is bigger and weirder than I knew.”

“Indeed, it is. People get oddly zealous when it comes to who they think should govern them. The war left a lot of wounds that have not healed.” He gulps down some water. We grab our packs and start walking. “Your best choices are Frenland, overthe Hogback Mountains to the east. Or west across Fathomless Sea to Wenway. Or?—”

“Vancourter is in Wenway.” When Rorsyd looks puzzled, I continue. “I was told of someone in Vancourter who might be able to teach me…about necromancy. Landos knew of her. A woman called Saphora.”

“I see.”

“Nothing more thanI see? You don’t like that because necromancy is evil?”

“No. I agreed with you. It isn’t necessarily evil.”

Chastened, I nod.

“But others will still see it that way. If you become known for acts of necromancy it will close doors, turn some against you automatically. It will also strengthen you and add possibilities, other pathways. Do you want power or infamy? The powerless are more easily ruined and manipulated. I do not know which is best for you.”

“I don’t want power. I want a peaceful happy life.”With him? Yes.I’m getting way ahead of myself here.

Then he swings around and takes me by the shoulders, hugs me, hard, rucksack and all, until I gasp and frantically pat his back.

“Less squeezing!”

“Tsk! Soft girl.” He releases me, ruffling my hair so I have to reposition the hood. “You cannot imagine how much your words said. This is why I want to eat you all up.”

I crack a rueful grin. “Only eat?”

He snorts. “Fucking you against a tree is too public here. Do not give me ideas. However…” He looks about then crowds me. He works his hand down the front of my leggings while holding my chin with finger and thumb and kissing me. I know what he’s doing, and I stay there being kissed while he pushes his hand between my legs.

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