Page 30 of Jeweler to the Blessed
Soren stepped forward, his voice harsh. “It’s nothing personal. We need to cut off the Blessed’s adamas supply.”
10
The Feared have become a problem. He leashes them, but for how long?
— ALARIC SARE’S LETTERS TO ISABELLE ARKOVA
Iknew a threat when I heard one.
The side street felt too small. I was surrounded by those who meant me harm. From what the prince had said that afternoon, these had to be the Feared.
Another thought struck me just as quickly: Soren had known Alaric, or at least, he appeared to. Soren didn’t seem to like him, but he’d had dealings with him from my brief interaction at Forest’s Edge. Which could only mean one thing: Alaric knew the Feared.
Anger flashed through my growing dread as I found another thing Alaric had keptfrom me.
I rolled my shoulders back. Right now, it didn’t matter why. It only mattered that my life was in real danger. Soren must be one of the Feared, and I had fallen into the one thing the prince had warned me about this morning. Silently issuing my own curse toward Macen for whatever part he played in this, I reached for the dagger beneath my skirt.
Macen leaned forward to stop me, but I elbowed him—hard. He doubled over, breathing heavily as I started to back away from the group. They moved together toward me, but slowly, with a confidence that said there was no way I’d escape.
Keeping my eyes on my opponents, I took careful steps back toward the bustle of Cross Street. I ran into something solid, like a wall behind me.
I flinched. Turning sideways quickly to face this new threat, my head tilted back, and my gaze locked with one of forest green. The dim glow of torchlight made clear that the imposing figure was one I was growing increasingly familiar with. The guard from this afternoon stalked past me. His sword was still sheathed, and his adamas still wasn’t visible, but authority radiated from him, even as his movement was stilted. The faces of those on the side street changed with each step, their conviction faltering. As I caught a glimpse of his face, I knew why: his scowl wasn’t one I’d forget.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
Unsure who the question was for, I waited silently. My back faced the stone wall of the side street buildings, and I was unsure who the more significant threat was—the guard or the group that’d learned my identity so quickly and wanted me gone.
The guard glared at the gathered individuals with a ferocity I wouldn’t wish on many—but as Soren had threatened me, I’d decided they deserved it. Even though the guard was severelyoutnumbered, those gathered glanced carefully toward Soren, as if asking for direction.
“You know this is the only way,” Soren said.
The guard’s hands balled into fists at his side. “I told you she’s mine.”
Heat rushed through my body even as the breath stole from my lungs at the declaration. When had he said that? How did he know the Feared? I swallowed as I realized any hope I had that the guard didn’t recognize me from Alaric’s shop or the castle hallway was long gone.
Soren spared a dismissive glance at me. Then, a look of resolute determination crossed his face. “And maybe I don’t think you can be entirely trusted with this.”
The growl that ripped from the guard would have been enough to terrify anyone else. Soren stood his ground, though I did notice a few of those gathered quickly exited the side street.
“I’ll give you one chance.” The guard’s anger seemed focused on those remaining in the group, but it hadn’t been all for them when he’d stepped onto the side street. He prowled forward, the stiff movement of his right leg catching my attention.
Nothing about this situation should be funny. The Feared wanted me dead—worse, they’d found me with annoying ease. This guard knew them, but also seemed the only one intent on me leaving this street unscathed. I was at a mental breaking point for the day, unable to stop the smirk threatening to take over my face at the guard’s slow steps. Realization struck. He must have been the one to grab me on the street. My kick had landed. Lifting my hand to smother the tilt of my lips proved insufficient. A giggle loosed, and the intense green glare was once again squarely focused on me.
He stopped an arm’s length away from me, like thedistance he’d given me in the alley that afternoon. “This is not funny.”
With another step toward the Feared, he put his body slightly in front of mine, placing himself between me and Soren’s group. I didn’t know why, but my gut said he protected me. It infuriated me even though it was exactly what I needed.
I had so many unanswered questions. But decided they didn’t matter at this precise moment. No matter what I did or didn’t know about my uncle, I knew he trusted this man on some level. This man helped him with the herbs for Mother’s tonic. They cursed openly about forbidden goddesses together. I’d figure out how they knew each other and why Alaric trusted him if he got us off this side street alive. His knack for showing up when I needed him was almost enough for me to regret how hard I’d kicked him—almost.
“I didn’t know it was you,” I whispered.
It was another mark of his strength that he took a moment to glance at me. This wasn’t so much a glare as an assessment. “And if you’d known?” His voice was more wry than angry as he arched his eyebrow, ignoring the group of Feared staring at us.
He may have been pretending they weren’t a threat, but I was confident he tracked every movement they made while we spoke.
The mob had lost whatever steam they’d been building when the guard stormed in. Rage still filled Soren’s face, but he waited for something.
“I still would have done it,” I replied without hesitation.
