Page 76 of Truth's Blade

“They have people like me,” she countered. “Do you think I’m the only one?”

He paused. “Yes.” He clicked his tongue. “You went too far, little girl. I believe most of what you told me, but now you’re just being ridiculous. In all my time actively searching for anotherlike me, I’ve never come across a single one, until you. Maybe the Commander and his queen have other magic users. I’ve never heard so, but the shirts their soldiers wear confirms they do, and that’s a well-kept secret. But another like you?” He shook his head. “You present me with a real conundrum.”

“And what is that?” But she already knew what he was going to say. She saw it in his covetous eyes.

“You would fetch me so much money with a court, rich or poor—they’d pay whatever I ask for you. But equally, you would be so useful to me as to be priceless. Absolutely priceless.”

“I’ll only be yours for so long,” she told him, keeping her fear of his words and intentions from her voice. “The Rising Wave is coming for you.”

“The Rising Wave crested, broke, and has done nothing more than lap at Kassia’s shores for the last fifteen years,” he said.

“You think the original members of the Wave don’t remember why they rose up to begin with?” she asked. “You think the queen and her commander are so complacent?”

He didn’t think that. She could see him trying to keep his hands from shaking as he held the paint box.

“Nice paint set, by the way,” she said, prodding him with whatever she could. “It was handy in breaking the children and my fellow soldiers out from their restraints.”

He looked down at the paints. “You used it?” The look he sent her was astounded. “You actually used it?” The last words were almost a screech.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked. “I bought it from that trader fair and square.”

He opened the box, squinting a little, like she’d had to do, because of the bright glow coming off it.

“The black is nearly finished.” He sounded barely able to say the words.

She shrugged. “It takes a lot of black to draw hand tongs that snap shackles.”

“I will kill you for this.” He snapped the paint box closed.

She laughed at him, keeping the fear from her face. “No, you won’t.”

He seemed to try to get a grip on himself, then stepped closer to her. At the last moment, she saw him swinging the stick.

It hit her lightly in the side, with hardly any force at all given the angle and how far away he stood, but it seemed to reverberate through her, like she had been smashed into a wall.

She fell to the ground, unable to breathe, and at last he approached, grabbed up the rope, and crouched beside her.

“You’re right, I won’t. But I can make you wish I would.”

CHAPTER 30

Something was happening to Melodie.

Unable to stand not seeing a moment longer, Theo crouched down as low as he could and peered out of the broken door.

Melodie lay just beyond the white stones, curled up on the ground and unmoving.

He tensed, hunting for Marchant in the darkness, and found him rolling a white stone back into place.

The arch was closed again and he was trapped inside.

Why had Marchant closed it? Did he know Theo was here?

Theo recalled the long moments he’d been exposed to view from Marchant’s house when he’d levered the door open.

Marchant might have seen him and been chuckling to himself this whole time.

“You’re heavy.” Marchant stood over Melodie, shook his head, and hobbled toward the stables, leaving her on her own.

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