Page 55 of A Weave of Lies
“You have followed other inquisitors? You wound me, witch,” he said, theatrically slamming his hand over his heart.
How childish.
“And here I thought I was yourfirst,” he finished.
From childish to crass now. Her blood started boiling. “You’ll be my first for something much less pleasant if you don’t give me answers tonight, Velten.”
“Must I? I am tired. I would appreciate some peace for once.” His eyes avoided hers.
Semras frowned. He always sought to make her squirm beneath his gaze. This avoidance gave her pause.
Then, it hit her. “Are you drunk?”
She leaned down and grabbed his jaw to examine him. The smell of alcohol on his breath hit her nose at once, and she stepped back, cheeks reddening at her boldness.
In his drunken state, Velten followed her retreat, then collapsed back onto the bedroll. “Merciless witch,” he muttered.
His gaze darted to the entrance of the tent. Before he could plan his escape, Semras knelt in front of him and levelled their gazes. He turned away, visibly intent on ignoring her.
She grabbed his shoulders and pinned him in place with a blazing glare. “Why would you even drink so much?” she asked, irritated. “You’re the one who keeps saying we need to make haste and be ready when the sun rises, and you—!”
“I have nightmares,” Estevan said, voice hoarse. “I keep seeing the moment when I found my friend’s—when he … I-I have not slept well in weeks.”
Made wordless, Semras stared at him. Ulrech had been inebriated too; she should have realized earlier that they had drank for their deceased friend.
“Sothis, witch,” he said, gesturing at a nearby flask, “is medicine for the mind. You will not be so cruel as to take it from me, will you?”
“I …” Semras felt lost for words. She found some anyway—platitudes, but at least they filled the silence. “I’m sorry. For your friend. Truly.”
“Do not be. You are not responsible, and I do not resent witches for the actions of a single one.” Passing his hand over his drawn face, Estevan looked away, his attention lost toward the collection of alcohol bottles. “Var Hesser, he … Please forgive his temper. I wish he blamed me too; then he would have an outlet for his grief.”
Semras studied Estevan, trying to reconcile her understanding of the inquisitor with the man before her. “I … I don’t think you are to blame for Sir Jaqh’s death either. I’m sorry. It never crossed my mind you’d have nightmares about it. You always look so sure, so … infallible.”
Grief flashed through his eyes before a snarl smothered it. “I am human too, even if people forget when they see … this.” He gestured at his cloak, lying discarded on the floor tarp.
Pinned onto it, the golden, twelve-pointed star looked tarnished when no light touched it.
“You …” he muttered, “you forget it too.”
“I …”
“You are scared of me.” It wasn’t a question.
Deep down, she knew he was right. Inquisitor Velten was a murderer sanctified by his church to hunt down people like her. There was no place for trust between them.
But Estevan was a drunken mess right now, and not liable to remember any part of this conversation later.
“Not now,” she murmured. “Not when you’re like this.”
“But you were scared in the glade. And … in the inn’s room … I think? And in your hut. You fear me when I approach you. Touch you.” His hand reached for her face, as if trying to illustrate his point. “I want—”
She batted it away. “Don’t toy with me. You’ve mocked me, threatened me! And you—” A shiver shook her. “… You wanted to kill me. How could I not be wary of you? You meant to kill me.”
Face scrunching with pain, Estevan closed his eyes. “I should have. Still should. You were too close to the Bleak. And I cannot … I cannot forgive those who walk the Bleak.”
His words froze the blood in her veins, but she shook it off. She wouldn’t cower, not in front of him. Not now. “I am scared of cages, not of you, Estevan. And I—”
A hand slammed onto her mouth, while the other caught her wrist. With muffled cries, Semras struggled and tried to push him back—to no avail. Even in his advanced state of inebriation, he remained formidably strong.
