Page 72 of Children of Fallen Gods

“How did they find us so quickly?” I murmured.

Serel winced. “Many of the people here wrote to their friends and relatives as soon as we were settled. It would only take one intercepted letter.”

“Did you know about this?” Filias asked, and I snapped my head up.

“No. Of course not.”

“They would have threatened the Orders, too. Threatened those who now controlled the Mikov Estate. They’re just as afraid of the Orders as they are of you. The Arch Commandant didn’t tell you?”

Of course Zeryth wouldn't have said anything. Lately, Zeryth could barely construct a sentence without losing track of his own words. “No. He did not.”

“But you can get them out,” a small voice said, from one of the girls in the crowd. “Can’t you?”

“One of those letters is from my nephew,” another added. “He’s only seven.”

I closed my eyes. A headache bloomed behind my temples. “We will get them out. And the Orders will support us as we do it.”

“We shouldn’t have left,” someone in the group murmured, and though no one responded aloud, my magic could feel the pang of guilt in the air — a ripple of silent agreement.

“Let’s not pretend that the Arans will do anything to help us,” Filias said. “They have bigger things to worry about. If our kin need us, then we’ll need to go help them ourselves.”

My stomach fell through my feet.

“You can’t do that.”

“It may be the only choice we have.”

“Because the Zorokovs willslaughter you. And they will slaughter your loved ones.” I stood, eyes scanning the crowd. “Trust me, I want immediate action just as much as you do. But if you give me time, we can win this. Zeryth Aldris doesn’t win his war without me. He needs me, and I have bound the Arans to their promises. The minute their war is over, ours begins. With their resources, we won’t be throwing more corpses at the Threllians’ feet. We’ll bewinning.”

“And how long will that take, for Aldris to pick off Sesri’s cousins one by one? Even then, they won’t surrender. That isn’t a plan. That’s a dream.”

I hated how much his words echoed my own insecurities. “It will be a quick victory. We just need time.”

But would it be quick enough?

I wished I could make that promise. But it wouldn’t be so simple.

“We need to trust her,” Serel said. “She came back for us when no one else would. She didn’t have to do that. If she says it’s the truth, then it’s the truth.”

A bitter laugh came from another corner of the room. “Bullshit.”

I knew that voice.

My head snapped up. And I saw a familiar face in the back of the crowd, far enough in the shadows that I hadn’t noticed him when I first arrived. He looked better than he had when I last saw him. The scars of his face had been repaired, revealing freckled, healed skin. But his lip was still split, and his nose still missing, leaving behind two gaping holes. A cane was clutched in his hand.

“Vos,” I choked out.

Vos, my old friend, whom I had betrayed at Esmaris’s estate the day that Serel had helped me leave. He had paid the price many times over for my escape.

He regarded me with a cold stare, a sneer twitching at his ruined mouth.

“Say that to me,” he spat. “Tell me that they should trust you.”

I needed words — the right words — now more than ever. I needed words that were comforting enough to assure the refugees that I would be able to help them. I needed words that were strong enough to keep them from doing something stupid.

And above all, I needed words that weretrue.

In Esmaris’s court, my tongue had spun so many honey-sweet lies. But these people deserved more, deserved better. What did I have to offer them?

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