Page 38 of Sanctifier

But Ru knew better. As a purveyor of information, talented in the arts of music, subtlety, and peril, everything Simon portrayed was an act, a disguise. His true heart, his raw emotions, they were something as mysterious to Ru as the inner workings of the artifact itself. He handled emotions with far more difficulty than even Ru.

“Ru,” Simon said, and his expression softened. He reached out, placing a warm hand on hers for just a moment. It was all he was going to give her in the way of comfort, and she knew it. “Allow me to enlighten you,” he went on, sipping his tea daintily.

“Please do,” Ru said, resigned to the witty, surface-level dance that was a conversation with Simon.

“I came to warn you about Lady Bellenet,” he said, managing to sound haughty even while relaying grave information. “But it seems you’ve already come to the correct conclusion. She’s far more powerful than she seems. As you’ve no doubt witnessed, everything that leaves her mouth is a pretty lie, and everyone around you will be lapping it up like starving kittens being offered a bowl of milk.”

“Then it’s what I thought. She’s the one holding the regent’s leash. And Hugon is her lackey.” Ru sat back, setting down her tea so as not to spill it in agitation. “But how is she gaining power? How does she change people, how can we stop it? And…” she bit her lip, hating that this was the most pressing of her questions, “why is Taryel here?”

“Ah yes, of course,” Simon said, leaning back slightly, regarding his sister with a half-smile. “Your handsome rogue Fen, all grown up and revealed to be an immortal committer of genocide. How sweet.”

“Simon.”

He waved a hand. “Oh, who cares about Fen, Taryel, whatever his name is. I’m far more interested in discussing the tale of Bellenet and D’Luc, the delightfully deadly duo. Theirs is a story as old as time itself, isn’t it? Two wealthy, attractive people join forces and start a cult defined by questionable fashion choices, travel to a new country, spread their ridiculous beliefs, seek out the reincarnation of their terrible god, dig up his heart, summon him here as some sort of annoyingly scruffy party trick, and… well, I suppose you know the rest.”

Ru stared, fingers clutching the sofa cushions. The fire crackled cheerfully as her blood ran cold. “Did you say they… dug up his heart?” she said. “Lord D’Luc knew, or at least suspected what the artifact was, and he’s been lying to me the whole time?”

“I thought you were supposed to be the intelligent one,” Simon replied, a smile tickling the edge of his mouth. “Of course, he was lying. Why would he admit anything to you, a mere academic?”

“Shut up,” Ru muttered, her thoughts a blur. “Then… he and Lady Bellenet came here together. From Mekya.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Overheard, you mean,” Ru said, raising an eyebrow. “So they came for the artifact. Somehow, they knew what it was and what it could do. But how? And Taryel…” her heart lurched. “Why did he come? Is he… loyal to Lady Bellenet?”

Simon leaned forward conspiratorially. “She believes he is. He’s far too clever to fall for her special charms, fortunately for you.”

“So, she really can turn minds like that?” Ru asked, her stomach roiling. “Do you know the nature of her power? Or how to stop it?”

“That,” said Simon, “is a bit beyond my ability to learn. So far, anyway. I’ve yet to come across any evidence of her methods or limitations. She’s very good at keeping secrets, Lady Bellenet. It’s all very gauche if you ask me.”

“But how did they know where the artifact would be buried?” Ru demanded, a thousand more questions bubbling to the surface. “If the regent ordered the dig at the Shattered City, has she been under their influence since then? I thought… but… I thought Taryel… he wanted me to come with him…” She chewed her lip and tasted blood.

“Ugh, not that,” said Simon, recoiling slightly. “If you must insist on crying, please wait until I’ve gone. You know I’m no good at tears.” Even so, he pulled a delicate handkerchief from within his waistcoat pocket and held it out.

Ru took it, blowing her nose.

“To be perfectly frank, I don’t know any more than you do. Taryel’s motivations are his alone.” He leaned back as if to be as far away from strong emotion as possible. “I advise you to forget him, Ru. He’s a knave, a rake, and sooldfor god’s sake. I’d hate to be forced to duel him to preserve your honor, though you know very well I’d do it, and he’d die upon my sword. A situation I would rather avoid.”

“Simon,” Ru snapped, glaring at her brother. “I’m your sister. I can tell when you’re lying. Why is Taryel here?”

Simon sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh,fine. As far as I’ve been able to surmise, Taryel was never part of Lady Bellenet’s original plan for the artifact. Until he stole the artifact from you, and those subsequent dramatics at the Shattered City, she thought Fen Verrill was nothing but a ragamuffin from the woods. I mean, heis, but he and I are—”

A knock sounded at the door, cutting Simon off mid-sentence. He and Ru shared a wide-eyed glance.

“That’s my cue,” said Simon, winking. Before Ru could protest, he leapt from the sofa and disappeared into the bedroom. Ru went after him, but by the time she got to the bedroom, he was already gone. A cold wind blew in through the window.

“Utterbuffoon,” she said through gritted teeth.

The knock sounded again, more insistent this time.

Heart in her throat, Ru opened the door.

“Delara,” said Lord D’Luc, giving her an assessing once-over, and clearly finding her lacking. “It’s time.”

CHAPTER 13

As Ru and Lord D’Luc neared the throne room, the corridors became increasingly lively with bodies and noise. Courtiers made their way toward the great room as well, though considerably more slowly, gathering in clusters to stare or wave shyly at Ru, smoothing their skirts prettily. Footmen wove effortlessly between them, carrying trays of drinks and food as if this were nothing but a grand party.

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