Page 68 of A Weave of Lies
Semras stared at him, dumbfounded. “Inquisitor Velten told me—”
“Inquisitor Velten has ordered that you sleep in that room over there tonight,” he said, pointing at it again. “As you must have understood by now, his will is not to be questioned.”
“I’m certainly aware of his … fickle nature. As for his will, I have challenged it enough for the day. I suppose I will follow it, for once.” Ulrech’s gaze flared with uncertainty, and she let out a long sigh. “Don’t stare at me like that. You look as if I mean to sneak to his side later.”
The knight contemplated her. “You. You have started becoming trouble. Remember what I told you last night about returning home once the investigation is over.”
“Such a good guard dog you make, Sir Ulrech. I’d bid you goodnight, but I fear you will not sleep a wink in fear I’d have cursed your rest.” Walking toward her assigned room, Semras waved at him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She felt more sombre than her airy voice let on. The sword-bearers had grown increasingly discontented with her presence and were no longer concealing it. It gnawed at her, and their presence in closed quarters was tainting her relief at finally spending a night alone in her own room.
Exhaling softly, she pushed her concerns to the back of her mind and entered the bedroom.
Tucked in a corner, the most inviting bed she had seen since leaving home lay waiting for her. A dresser and a small sidetable furnished the rest of the space, but she barely paid them attention as she dropped onto the mattress.
It felt divine. The blankets were old and itchy, and the mattress was too hard, but it was hers alone for the night. She wanted to make the most of it—and that meant sleeping in a soft nightgown after a long, relaxing bath. Two days of riding had left her feeling gross.
After gathering what she needed, Semras left for the bathing room, then came back after an hour, refreshed and wearing her nicest shift. A minute later, she slipped beneath the covers and closed her eyes eagerly.
And sleep didnotcome to her.
The witch stayed still for what seemed like hours, her restless mind growing ever more irritable as the night flew by. She could not sleep. An imaginary dread had built up within her, and it now refused to let her rest.
Semras tossed and turned in bed for the umpteenth time. Opening her eyes, she stared at the plastered wall, then forced them closed again.
Something felt wrong. Her hairs rose on her nape; a tingling sensation of not being alone kept creeping up on her. She felt on edge.
When the wood creaked beneath her bed, her ears immediately caught it.
A few seconds passed without it coming back, and she forced her shoulders to relax. Floors creaked from time to time in a building so old, she reassured herself.
The sound came again—this time accompanied by the rustling of fabric against wood.
Her eyelids snapped open. Had she moved the blankets and not noticed in her half-asleep state?
Had she?
This was getting ridiculous. There was nothing and no one in her room. She just needed to turn her head and look, and then she’d be able to sleep.
So Semras turned.
And stared straight into someone’s eyes.
Chapter 15
Frozeninsurprisehalfwayunder the bed, a man lay on the floor next to her. Semras stared wordlessly at the rope and knife clutched in his hands. It didn’t feel real.
By the time it did, he had scrambled to his feet and was plunging the knife toward her chest.
She dodged it narrowly with a sudden jerk backward. Her heart beat wildly, pumping blood through her ears with a deafening, thumping noise. Her back pressed against the wall, she darted her eyes around and worked through her options as fast as she could.
The window was too thin to escape through it. The door? He stood in front of it. She could turn the bed over to create cover. But how? It was too heavy; he’d have her bleeding to death before she could even try to move it. Scream?
Scream.
His hand sealed her mouth, and her shriek died in her throat before it could alert anyone. With his other hand, her assailant grabbed her neck and squeezed her windpipe shut. His toolsscattered on the wooden floor. From the corner of her eye, she saw the knife roll out of reach.
Panicked, Semras scratched his face, his wrists, his arms—anywhere she could reach. Her nails broke; blood seeped from beneath their beds.Crush his eyes, a voice in the back of her mind chanted.Rip off his ears. Pierce his skin.
