Page 68 of This Monster of Mine

“‘The strength of the shield cast by this fulgur scutum,’” he read, “‘depends on how fervently those who dwell under its protection believe in the Elsar. A prayer will save you. But doubt, that stealthy poison, will doom you.’”

Staring at her shaking fingers gentled by large, callused ones, it took a moment for the words to penetrate. Her jaw dropped. “The shields work onfaith?”

He released her. “That’s what the runes say.”

“So if the scutum doesn’t work …” She broke off. “You can’t be serious.”

“If it doesn’t work, then the inhabitants must not have had faith,” he said sardonically.

“Something as nebulous as faith can’t governthis.” She gestured at the catastrophe around them. “Everyone would be better off erecting a monument to Lord Fortune on their roofs. How canbeliefpower a hunk of metal?”

“How indeed.” The strange gleam she’d seen in Kadra’s eyes by Jovian’s corpse resurfaced. He turned his mount back to the path. “Come.”

“You’re going to just walk away? Won’t you offer a word of comfort?”

Something bitter tautened his face. “There is no comfort for the living after this. No platitudes that will ease the burn of everyone saying that these people deserved it for lacking faith. The dead will die again by public opinion, and the living will never live it down.” He indicated the spectators keeping their distance from the carnage as though it were contagious. “You can’t change that.”

Without thinking, she gripped his reins. “Don’t.” Her voice wobbled, aware that his vigiles were watching them, and that she was being insubordinate again. “Don’t do what Cassandane and Tullus did to Livia’s mother and walk away, thinking that coin alone will help.”

“Words won’t aid them.” His features were hard.

“They will aidsome. You may never have lost anything, Kadra, but I have, and if even one person had bothered to tell me that it wasn’t my fault, I would have appreciated it a great godsdamned deal.” She realized that she’d addressed him without his title.

Something shifted in his eyes. After a moment, he dismounted and stalked over to the survivors with her. A few tearstained faces turned at their approach.

Sarai bowed low. “I’m sorry for your losses tonight,” she said awkwardly. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think that a lack of faith caused this.”

“Then why?” a woman cried, clutching her mangled arm. “Who did this then?”

A lump built in Sarai’s throat. “I know it’s no comfort, but sometimes, there’s no one to blame,” she whispered. “Perhaps the gods are cruel. Or perhaps they want to take us where it’s safe. At the very least, there is no stormfall in the Bright Realms.”

Some shrugged, deep in grief. Others lined up to where Kadra was offering his condolences so compellingly, it was like she’d hadn’t talked him into it.

Returning to their mounts, she snuck a glance at him.Why listen to me? Do you care about these people or are they just useful to you? Why were you at Sidran Tower that night?

Eyes still holding that fierce light, Kadra turned to the road. “This way.”

She let the questions turn to ash in her mouth.

They made rounds of the other farms to see if they’d been struck. A city like Edessa didn’t have the capacity for much arable farmland, but livestock farmers were always necessary, and littered the outskirts. Leaving a dwelling, Sarai stiffened when Kadra cast a sharp look at the sky.

“Get down.” He indicated a nearby holm oak.

She didn’t think twice. Dismounting, she’d just finished tethering their mounts when blinding light ripped through the sky followed by a scream of thunder.

A drop of rain hit her shoulder. Then another. And the sky opened above without any garden folly to save them.

Rain spitefully bit into her skin, her robes doubling under the weight. The ground softened into sludge, and she cursed when her worn Arsamean boots began rapidly sinking in. Eyeing Kadra’s sturdier footwear, she tried to keep her balance, searching for something to grip. The wide tree trunk behind her had no purchase, and Caelum was too skittish for Sarai to grab her reins.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” Kadra said quietly.

A warm hand gripped her waist, pulling her against him. The scent of oranges enveloped her. Her boots squelched, ruined. Yet, she only had eyes for the face a foot above hers.

“I would have asked,” he said with amusement. “But you were about to fall.”

Blood throbbed in her ears. The side of her body touching his sighed at the heat, as if she’d never known she was cold until this very instant.He’s a mass murderer, she reminded herself fiercely.He was at Sidran Tower.Her pulse cooled.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly.

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