Page 53 of The Coven of Ruin
“Sure,” Grae said, grinning. “After he apologizes.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Kace rasped.
“I don’t think she heard you, nor did her friends who had to suffer through your display.”
“I’m sorry,” Kace whimpered louder. “I don’t want”—he grunted as Grae’s hand tightened around his wrist—“any trouble.”
Grae held him for a second longer, saying something low that only he could hear. Kace nodded once. Relaxing his grip on him, the war god straightened out Kace’s tunic, patted him on the chest, and then stepped away.
“Greatest swordsman of Witch Country, we will have to take you up for drinks at a later date,” Ares said from behind her, causing her to jump slightly. She hadn’t realized that she was still pressed against his chest. “We were just leaving.”
Illean narrowed his eyes at him but then shrugged good-naturedly. “Of course.”
“You three are coming with us,” Ares commanded.
“Yes,General,“ Demurielle replied.
Nodding numbly, Trista stepped away from him toward Demurielle and Zyana. “Let’s go,” she said to them, apologies and tears wanting to pour out. Without hesitation, they each grabbed one of her hands.
“Trista—“ Kace’s voice was full of uncertainty, as if he was afraid that once she walked away, he would never see her again. But she knew that if she were to stay with him, that would all give way to anger. Anger for leaving him without telling him, anger for not defending him. Gods, probably even angry at her for being abducted all those moons ago.
Zyana glared at the mage’s rumpled form as they moved past. “Pathetic.”
Meeting with the enemy now,Ares had said. Illean was a member of the group he was there for. But now she realized he hadn’t meant just the brutish mage. He had been referring to all of them. As much as she thought it would bother her, the truth settled with a thud. It was all too easy to believe that Kace had involved himself in something dark and dangerous.
She looked back at him just once. His stance and expression reminded her so much of the moment she had been dragged by the god to The Arena that her breath left her in an inaudible gasp. Except now, she had a true friend on either side of her, the warmth of their hands in hers reassuring. And she was being escorted by gods of war away from him and to safety. The paradox was a bitter taste.
Kirla had already moved in, offering placation and comfort, no doubt. Vaunt, and Illean were still stiff as they both looked at their departing group, an agreement made between them, their glares meaningful.
“He used to court you,” Demurielle whispered as they stepped into the darkened streets that had taken on a different energy. “We have got to talk about standards at some point, but speaking of that…” she trailed off, her eyes traveling to Grae and Brune, who walked in front of them with the Iron Prince.
Trista let out a shaky laugh in response.
“I think I just put a couple generals on my list,” Demurielle stated.
“They even had my heart all aflutter,” Zyana said dryly.
Chapter XXIV
“Youknow,Ididn’tactually agree to this.”
Finding herself in a small carriage with Brune, Grae, and Ares early the next morning was not what she had in mind when Ares had told her they were going to the Durge Pits. She sat on one side with Brune. Even though he tried to give her room, his large form left very little space for her hips to cram in between him and the side of the carriage. Grae and Ares also had their legs spread out in her direction, leaving her feeling altogether cramped.
Ares pinned her with a droll expression. “Do you or do you not want answers?” When she didn’t reply, he continued. “The carriage will be left with Brune and the driver here. And we will gate to here,” Ares pointed to the location on a map he held of Spellspire and its surrounding areas. “From there, it is a short trek to the prison.”
Trista noticed the Durge Pits weren’t established on the map. “Won’t they recognize us?” she asked, looking between them. “And won’t the driver say anything?”
“The driver will remember a day spent at the lagoon and a pocket full of coin,” Grae answered. “As for the prison, we will not appear fully as ourselves. The interaction should be short enough that a simple glamor will go unnoticed.”
“Glamor?”
“God stuff,” Grae said by way of explanation.
When they arrived at the lagoon, they quickly stepped off into a dense copse of trees. Trista would have enjoyed the area under any other circumstance. She imagined spending the day there with her friends. The water was even the same color as Demurielle’s eyes, and a constant cool breeze rustled the vibrant green brush, creating a soft tune.
“We are not here to enjoy the scenery,” Ares said sternly at her side, and she noted he had his arm up for her to take.
Stepping closer to Grae, she grabbed his arm instead. The god looked from her hand to Ares, a sly smile playing on his lips. Before she could prepare for it, the sensation of being forcefully pulled through space overtook her. Squinting, colors roared past, flashing so fast that she couldn’t make out anything substantial.
