Page 106 of A Weave of Lies
“Now you are the one threatening me,” Inquisitor Callum replied. “Do you truly believe me guilty of killing a tribunal? Death is the kindest fate awaiting whoever committed such a crime.” His fingers drummed against the armrest. “Regardless of if it was accidental or not, the culprit will be tortured, drawn, and quartered in the public place. So no, even if I had done it, I would not tell you I killed Master Torqedan. I am not suicidal.”
The monster frowned. “Then tell me what you two spoke of that night. Tell me why you met with him.”
Inquisitor Callum mulled over his thoughts. When he spoke at last, Semras could barely hear his low murmur. “He was … incoherent. He reminisced about his past. About the grandeur of the Inquisition and what it used to mean to be an inquisitor during the great witch purges of his youth. Of what he hoped would be his legacy.” Callum threw a furtive glance at his peer.“He spoke of you, Estevan. Of the ‘man who would follow in his footsteps,’ he told me. My turn with the question: will you?”
Her captor raked his fingers through his hair. “His ‘footsteps’? What does that even mean?” he asked. “Master Torqedan always harangued me about my ruthlessness. He certainly never congratulated me on it. You know how he was. He would not … he would not see me as following his legacy at all.”
“That stood out to me too. I came to talk to him about your last case, the one with the Anderas bleakwitch. He praised the way you handled it. And here I was, about to beg him to rein you in.” Callum clicked his tongue. “A fool’s endeavour, it turned out. The last words I ever exchanged with him, and he admired your monstrous actions. How odd the death throes of a man may sound like.”
Semras quelled her excitement as best as she could. Inquisitor Callum was admonishing the monster without restraint. He could stand up to him.
He could free her.
“‘Monstrous’? I amnotthe monster of that story, trust me,” her captor growled. The ghost of a memory passed by in his eyes, and his mouth set into a grim line. “You were not there, Cael. You have not seen what she … what she did to Sir Jaqh.”
Velten looked so haunted, pity almost overrode Semras’ hatred for him. With their intimate knowledge of human anatomy, a fleshwitch turned Bleak could weave unfathomable body horrors.
“Shewalkedin hisskin, Cael. I will never—! … I will never forget that. I still have nightmares. Not thatyouwould ever understand. ”
Estevan downed his drink, then stood and walked to a nearby liquor cabinet. After blindly grabbing one of the bottles on display, he poured more into his glass, then knocked it back.
Inquisitor Callum’s fingers stopped moving. “No, I would not. I do not have nightmares, and I do not have dreams. I have the law, however, and the law stipulates—”
Glass shattered on the floor at Estevan’s feet. He spun around, his cup gone. “Void take you, Cael! Can’t you act human for once? Just this once?”
Semras felt horribly out of place, listening in to such a private conversation. She hadn’t come here for that, yet the sight of Estevan mourning his friend froze her in place.
No, not Estevan. The monster. The monster who had taken away her weaving, her freedom, and her ability to love.
Even if … even if he didn’t look like one, standing there, breathing heavily while the other inquisitor still sat unnervingly still in front of him.
“I have been callous,” Callum murmured.
“Yes, you have.” Velten sat back down. “I … I still should not have said that.”
“What? That I acted inhumanely? It was true. Do not be sorry.”
“You should be angrier.”
Callum cocked his head. “I am not.”
With a sigh, Velten rested his elbows on his knees. “Youshould. That is exactly why people call you a—”
Inquisitor Callum sprang forth and grabbed Velten by the shirt, lifting him up from his seat. He had moved so fast, Semras wouldn’t have seen him move at all had she blinked at the wrong moment.
“Call me that word, Estevan,” he said calmly. “Do it. See how angry I can get.”
Breath stilled in her chest, Semras watched, unable to wrench her attention away. Goosebumps rose on her skin.
Velten shrugged him off, then straightened his clothes. “Now we are both looking for a fight.”
“Do you think you can win?” Callum asked as he sat back on the settee.
A bitter chuckle answered him. “I have had enough fighting my own demons these past days without adding you onto the pile. I am …” Her captor sighed. “… I am exhausted.”
Humming noncommittally, Callum swept his eyes around the room. His gaze stopped at the keyhole.
Semras twisted away from the door, hands clasped over her mouth. Had he caught her? She couldn’t see anymore—only listen as Inquisitor Callum’s voice grew stronger.
