Page 3 of The Sundered Realms

A test. Had he seen through her so easily? Liris clenched her teeth against the ingrained urge to leap to meet it.

But nevertheless it was a rope she grasped onto, centering her.

Liris did know what she was worth, and just because Serenthuar didn’t value her didn’t mean she had to accept it.

So this was a test, but not the kind either the elders or the demon servant thought.

Time to play the game for all she was worth.

“How may I address you, honored guest?” she asked.

Not a rebuke, following in her elder’s example; but not an acquiescence, either.

By his mocking smirk, the man knew it.

“Jadrhun,” he said.

Claiming neither title nor realm of origin; an outcast, then.

Liris looked over to Elder Omaqil and bowed without taking her eyes off his. “Is this what you summoned me for?”

In that question were all the others she couldn’t ask:

You know what he is?

And: This is what you would make of me?

He did not flinch. “It is,” he said, and that was enough.

Liris saw in his empty eyes desolation and desperation. She saw the echo of the hallway no new visitor had been enticed to visit in months despite the vaunted skills of Serenthuar’s ambassadors, the once-envied tribute that existed to mark what Serenthuar had to offer fading into obscurity.

In the Sundered Realms, that was a death-knell.

Liris thought that would be all, but then Elder Omaqil added, “I summoned you to do your duty. Tell him about the patterns.”

A punch to the gut wouldn’t have hit her as hard.

Oh, it was enough, and more than. It was the final betrayal, trapping her into this.

Serenthuar needed help more than ever, and this was what the elders chose for her duty? Sacrificing her to serve demons?

Part of her was shocked.

Worse, part of her wasn’t.

That part was very, very done.

Liris said, “Of course I will do my duty.”

And prepared to do anything but.

She’d have to pretend to: Elder Omaqil had heard enough reports to recognize if she lied outright. Pretending was the only way she’d escape, and if she lacked worldly experience, she’d had a lot of practice pretending for the people who controlled her life.

Liris crossed to the table. “Do you have paper and ink, Jadrhun?”

“Always.” The caster reached into his coat and produced a pad and pen in seconds.

With reflexes like that, he had to be a field caster, not just in research or support.

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