“I’m a healer. My job is to preserve life.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’re Sufani. Ivet and Dannel have talked about the Sufani’s reverence for all life.”
“Reverence is nice and all, but it doesn’t keep you safe.”
“But endless killing will?”
She rose, water rolling off her in rivulets. “You don’t understand.”
“No,” he said. “But I’m trying to. And I think…” His cheeks colored. “You’ve had a hard life and made some mistakes, but they don’t have to define you forever. You can change. You have, already. You’re better than whoever your employer wanted you to be. I’ve seen the evidence for myself. You’re a good person, Verve.”
As he spoke, he allowed his earnestness to seep through the cracks in his wall, like a comforting hand on her back. But as much as she wanted to believe him, she could not shake the memory of the mages she’d killed.
And the mention of her “employer” sent another thrill of warning through her, one that darkened her mind like storm clouds. Danya was nothing if not thorough. Eventually, Verve’s former patron would send someone to verify what the Legion sentinels must have surely reported.
I should leave, she thought, then dismissed the notion. Even if Danya abandoned all hope of finding Verve, she believed a dendric mage lived in Lotis. And Alem had said he’d never leave, which meant if Verve truly wanted to protect the village, she ought to stick around.
Yes, of course. She’d stay to protect Lotis from Danya and her Chosen — no other reason. Verve rolled her eyes at that willful ignorance.
Carefully, she picked her way back to the sandy shore, where Alem had returned. He tensed at her approach, but held his ground and her gaze. “I know I sound preachy,” he said. “But I just… I want more for you. Call me a fool, but I do.”
“Fool,” she said, and skimmed a hand up his arm, over his solid chest. He sucked in a breath, his eyes going darker as he stared into hers. Desire bloomed around him, thick as jessamin blossoms.
“Very well,” she murmured. “I’ll try to talk again. But Alem?”
“Verve?” he whispered.
She bit her lip, considering. “I know you love it here, but Danya—my patron—she knows a dendric mage lives in Lotis. You could leave — just for a while,” she added when he opened his mouth to object, “just until the danger passes. You’d be such a prize for Danya. Please, Alem.” She curled her fingers against his chest. “Please, leave Lotis, just for a while. It’s not a coward’s act to leave when danger threatens. You’ve lived in Pillau; you’ve been through those intense summer storms, right? How does the saying go? ‘Hide from the wind, but run from the water.’ Danya and Atal’s Chosen are a flood, and they will destroy you if you stay.”
His brows knitted, but he placed his hand over hers, pressing it to his chest, where his heart raced. “This isn’t about cowardice, or bravery. This is about my home and my family. I’m not going anywhere, Verve.”
Despite the tight ball of fear coiling in her belly, her heart soared again at his touch. “You’re either brave or stupid,” she said, “but either way, Lotis is lucky to have you. And I swear I’ll keep you—all of you—safe.”