Page 62 of Silverbow
She glared, hesitating on her answer. “When I held the Testing rod…it…burned me.”
“What do you mean?” Colm asked. “Did it leave a physical mark?”
She nodded. The surprise was plain on Colm’s face and behind him, Aiden sucked a breath through his teeth.
“Did they try to collar you?”
She shook her head as if she still didn’t believe it herself. “No. They didn’t seem to notice. They went on their way.”
Oryn furrowed his brow. “So where were you going?”
“My father had a change of heart. He wanted me to go to the Vale, so I left.”
“You weren’t headed to sanctuary,” Colm said, understanding dawning on them all.
“The outpost in Windcross Wells,” she answered bitterly.
Mosphaera’s outrage slammed into the damper he held in place with so much force, he coughed. “Are you so eager to end up under Pallas Davolier’s thumb?” He asked more harshly than he intended.
“What would you have me do?” She scoffed. “Let my family be put the question? Let them hang?”
Bade sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Ten seconds in a collar and you’d be singing a very different song.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“If you don’t like a little room, girl, you wouldn’t take well to a leash.”
Color drained from her face and Oryn heard her heart skitter.
“Enough,” he snapped at both of them. “What does Ralenet have to do with your leaving?”
She pushed a loose strand of copper hair behind an ear and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’d never heard of Peytar Ralenet until I saw the bounty.”
Oryn arched a brow. “Your lessons have not covered the king’s small council?”
She scowled again. “I’m sure they probably have, but I don’t find royalty to be of much bloody interest.”
Oryn darted a warning look at Aiden as the fire wielder laughed.
“Has your father been to Misthol? Or Pavia?” Colm asked.
She shrugged. “I think so, but it was a long time ago and he never spoke of it.” She swallowed audibly, tears suddenly brimming in her eyes. A note of pleading entered her voice. “Please, do you know what’s happened to him? His name is not on the list.”
“We can make inquiries,” Colm said, even though that could only mean two things. She gave a tight nod and swiped a tear away. “Where was your Master of Arms from?”
She furrowed her brow and gave a mirthless laugh. “Perhaps I am the most ignorant woman in Estryia. I don’t know.”
“How long was he with you?”
“My whole life.”
“You never asked about the vow?” Colm pressed.
She shrugged. “Marwar never talked much about himself. He just said it was a long time ago.”
The spirit wielder scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “Do you know what the vow mark means?”
She shrugged again. “A sacred vow.”
