Page 130 of A Weave of Lies
Semras came back to Estevan holding her by the shoulders and staring straight into her eyes. She blinked.
“Please do not panic,” he said, smiling tentatively.
She pushed him away. “What wasthat!”
Stepping back, Estevan raised his hands in front of him. “Maraz’Miri is agidim il-saru. An Andakkadian demon of—”
“I know an air elemental when I see one! What do you mean, Maraz’Miriisone?”
“I did not summon her. Sin’Sagar did, and that was long before he worked for me.”
“And now you tell me Sin’Sagar is a diabalhist?” Semras threw her hands in the air. “Your horse is half-kelpie, your brother has fey blood, a seeress works for you, your spy is an air demon, and your steward is a spirit summoner. What’s next? Ulrech is a shapeshifter, and you’re a genuine devil taking the shape of a man to tormentmespecifically?”
A placating smile drew across his face. “Nothing of the sort. It is a long story. I could tell you—”
“Oh, youwilltell me everything on the way,” Semras said, fuming. “Callum doesn’t know how right he is when he says you disregard your own dogma. What kind of inquisitor are you even?”
“A reformist, who believes integration over segregation to be the best way forward for all of us.” Scratching his neck, Estevan added, “Or so I like to think.”
“Well, I don’t. You’re a heretic, more like. Or a hypocrite—that could work too.”
He laughed. Hedaredlaugh.
“If my brother were not trying to doom us all, you two would have been a great match. I can already hear the bells to a wedding I would be banned from.” He gazed fondly at her. “What a sight you would be. Alas, we will have to take him down instead. Should I compensate for your loss with my person?”
Cheeks flushed, Semras looked away. “You realize this is the second time you’ve offered yourself to me?” Semras grumbled. “I know inquisitors cannot marry, what with your oath to your god and all. So, be serious for once. This is no time to joke around.” Or flirt, she thought.
His face sobered up at once. “My apologies. That is just my way of coping. I assure you, I take Cael’s threat seriously. I just … I missed that. Our banter … your laughter, and your miffed glares too, and—”
A knock startled them both. Taken aback by the reminder that the rest of the world still existed, Semras nervously pulled on the edge of her sleeves.
The inquisitor strode to the door and opened it. Beyond it, Sin’Sagar bowed with his usual polite manner.
Semras eyed him from head to toe. The dark-skinned man looked nothing like an upper-sect member of the Diabalah. He lacked a certain mystical, holy aura to him—and the scent of myrrh and scriptures inked into his skin. His decorum certainly fit the image of the revered summoners, but his role as steward didn’t.
A diabalhist should be walking among believers, binding into servitude some of the thousand Andakkadian sphinx gods or creating elemental demons to help their people prosper. Not here in Castereina, listening to the inquisitor of a foreign god.
“Change of plans, Master Steward,” Estevan said. “I will need Pagan and one more horse prepared for a two- maybe three-day stealth mission.”
Sin’Sagar nodded with a courteous smile. “Glad to hear it, my lord. I must admit, it was the most idiotic, egocentric, irrational plan you ever pigheadedly decided upon. I bow before your wisdom.” He did, looking unmistakably mocking. “Your steeds shall be ready before midnight.”
Semras snickered. The older gentleman might not look the part of a diabalhist, but he was certainly a wise man. Clearly, he had never approved of the inquisitor’s plan; it restored him in her esteem.
“Hilarious,” Estevan said, groaning. “If you have time for quips, you will have time to clean up my household. A spy of Inquisitor Callum is in our midst, probably among the laundry maids. Have Maraz’Miri investigate them. I do not care if I come back to rumours of ghosts running wild.”
“Anything else?”
“Have two evening meals prepared at once, and bring them here yourself. I do not wish to be disturbed by anyone outside of my inner circle until we leave.”
“Immediately, my lord Inquisitor. I am glad to see your appetite has returned at last, along with your wisdom.” Sin’Sagar threw a quick glance at Semras. “Should we revisit the plans for the wing expansion?”
“Master Sin’Sagar,” Estevan said slowly. “I have made your career, and I can unmake it too if I so please.”
A sly smile graced the steward’s lips. “Perfectly understood, my lord.”
Estevan shut the door on him, then turned to Semras and crossed his arms. “You need to stop encouraging him. He loves having an audience to rile me up for.”
Smiling, Semras shrugged. “You deserve all that he said after you—after …” Her smile fell, and she looked down at her maimed hands.
