Page 63 of The Coven of Ruin
How had she become the secret keeper for not just one war god but two?
“Pavon is smarter than I realized, and he isn’t acting alone,” Ares was saying. Two pairs of footsteps sounded as they walked back toward the seating area. “We’ve tracked the royal—“ She looked up to meet Ares’ gaze at the same time he noticed her.
“Witch,” he said, his eyes flicking to the small bruise on her cheek before looking to Grae.
“What about the princess,” Grae asked. “I mean, no one expects her. They’re all too busy gossiping about where she’s been when maybe she was faceless the whole time.”
“Possibly,” Ares said. “But she likes Pavon just about as much as we do.” Huffing out a breath, he took one of the stuffed seats on the other side of her. “We’ll discuss it later.”
She knew why he didn’t want to discuss the matter. They barely talked about anything in front of her or worded it so carefully and vaguely that she couldn’t understand. “Or,” Trista dared, “you could just tell me. It might help me figure out what these runes mean if I knew what to look for.”
Grae’s brows shot up as he looked away, a smile playing around his lips.
Brune grumbled, a deep sonorous sound, as he sat across from her, where Grae had just been.
Ares, who had leaned his head back and closed his eyes, didn’t even look at her as he said, “If you were to be captured right now by the enemy, what information would you know?”
She quietly sorted the scarce knowledge she had. “Well, I know that these witches think Khaos speaks to them, that Illean and Pavon are involved, and that Braxton knows the prophecy.”
“And”—Ares finally looked at her—“you know that we are, in fact, not mages. From the moment I saw you at the dance, you were both a liability and yourself at risk. The less you know, the better.” He turned his head away from her to close his eyes again.
Indignation roiled within her, even causing her magic to prickle her fingertips. “If I’m already at risk and I am such a liability, then why not make it worth something? I knew too much when I knew it was you at the dance. All I have is your word of this supposed threat to witchkind. If I’m going to be in danger, then I should know everything.”
Ares snorted.
But Grae spoke from where he lounged in his seat across from him, “What if she plays for the information?” A deck of cards appeared in his hand.
“It doesn’t matterhowshe obtains the information. If she is ever captured and tortured, she would give them everything.”
A tense quiet enveloped them, broken only by Grae shuffling the cards. They were a thick, worn, teal and brown parchment that made a satisfying noise as he maneuvered them.
Grae’s gaze flicked to her. “I’ll show you how to play. If you win, you can ask a question. If we can’t tell you because of the whole ‘if you’re tortured, you’ll spill it all’ business, then you can ask another one.”
“He just wants a fourth person to play, seeing as how our usual is not here,” Ares murmured. “He cheats anyway and will most likely win every time.”
Grae made an act of pulling a blade from his chest. “I do not cheat,” he scoffed. “I can’t help that my skill is greater than yours.” He looked at Brune. “Defend me here or something.”
Brune slid his dark eyes to her. The scarred skin on his face tightened as he raised his brows, diminishing his usual threatening appearance. “He may not cheat, but he wins a suspicious number of times in a row.”
His voice was all deep bass. All Trista could do was blink at the large god, who she had spent long evenings with and had repeatedly spoken to, despite never receiving a reply. She had thought that maybe he just couldn’t speak. Knowing that he could but chose not to was almost insulting.
“I see,” Trista said, recovering. “Well, show me how it’s done, then.”
Grae explained the rules, which sounded very much like a game she had played with Kace and his friends. The significant differences were that there were no partners, and cards could be switched out at certain points during the match. It wasn’t overly complicated. One part skill, but mostly luck and the ability to appear confident in one’s hand even if it held nothing good.
She used the first round to ensure she had the rules down and to familiarize herself with the cards. Grae won fairly quickly, handing the cards off to Ares to shuffle while he smirked.
“I told you he always wins,” Ares said to her as he dealt the cards around the table.
“We will see.” She was determined to have at least one victory.
They played two more rounds in which Grae and Ares each won one. In the fourth round, she asked a lot of questions as if she had somehow misunderstood the rules.
“No, the Titan is a good card, second to highest. You do not want to get rid of that if you have it,” Grae answered her third question. As if realizing what she had asked, he eyed her suspiciously.
“I have absolutely nothing,” Ares announced, slapping his cards down and drinking deep from a goblet.
Brune switched one card for another and, with a rumbling sigh, also placed his hand down on the table. She looked at Grae, holding her cards up to cover her mouth. Her hand was good, but she wasn’t sure it was good enough.
