Page 129 of Esperance

Carver looked to his friend. “You shouldn’t have threatened the high cleric like that.”

Argent’s expression darkened. “I’m bloody sick of him. He’s fixated on you, and I’m pretty sure it’s my fault.”

Carver shot him a look. “What are you talking about?”

“I ruined his illusion of total authority here. I’ve done it more than once, and in front of an audience every time. He can’t punish me, so he’s coming after you.”

There was merit in that conclusion, but even if that influenced the high cleric’s decision to target Carver, it wasn’t the main reason. “I’ve irritated him from the beginning,” Carver said. “He even told me I wasn’t a good candidate for such an important arranged marriage. Besides, he’s desperate to stop these murders so he can save his reputation. The easiest solution is to pin the murders on me. Two birds, one stone.”

Argent huffed. “He couldn’t throw a stone and hit the side of this bloody temple.”

It wasn’t that funny. And considering everything that had happened tonight, it was wrong to laugh.

But Carver did.

Chapter 33

Amryn

Amryn stood in the Hall of Saints,a gallery in the museum with marble sculptures of famous saints. The statues stared at her, lining the long, empty corridor.

The message she’d found inZerrif’s Voyagethe morning after Rivard’s death was short.

Hall of Saints. Cyrin. Midday.

Her heart pounded an uneven tempo and her lungs felt too tight in her chest. She stood by the statue of Cyrin, one hand in her pocket. For once, it wasn’t her mother’s prayer coin she clutched with nervous fingers. Instead, it was the amulet with the black gemstone. The now-familiar hum she felt from it wasn’t as comforting as usual.

She’d been waiting for this in-person meeting ever since returning from Zawri. But now that it was upon her . . .

Footsteps approached, and her tension flared. She sensed the emotional aura of the person before she saw him, and she felt a stab of surprise.

Samuel rounded the corner and strode toward her. His face was smooth, no hint of the boyish smile that normally lifted his features. Unease ribboned through him as he scanned the area carefully. Some of his tension ebbed, but not all of it. “You’re alone.”

“Yes.”

His eyes settled on her. “You’ve grown close to Carver. I wasn’t sure if you’d bring him.”

Her stomach twisted. “Of course not. I haven’t betrayed you.”

Samuel glanced around them, his nerves tight. “It’s dangerous for us to meet in person, but after everything that’s happened, I allowed your request. However, this meeting must be brief.”

She lifted her chin. “Were the attacks on Zawri made by the Rising?”

“Yes. The high cleric’s outing was an unexpected opportunity to kill our most dangerous enemies. We couldn’t pass it up.”

She swallowed hard. “So the goal is to kill Argent and Jayveh here?”

“Yes. And Carver.”

The hard edges of the amulet bit into her palm as her hand clenched around it. Her words dried in her throat as she stared at Samuel. She felt his inflexibility. His determination. It bordered on desperation, and she knew he would not be swayed by anything she had to say.

Her fragile plan of convincing the rebels that Argent and the others didn’t have to die shattered.

She somehow kept her expression smooth. “What about Cora and Rivard? Did they have to die?”

His mouth tightened. “The Rising isn’t responsible for their deaths. I already conveyed that to you after Cora was killed. There’s someone else at work here.”

His fear rippled through her, chilling her blood. “Do you know who?”

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