Page 53 of Assassin's Mercy

Space-Between-Stars

If pain was a warning that something was wrong, it was pointless when it was everywhere, all at once. If the One god was real, why would they let someone suffer like this?

Suffering begets suffering, came that strange but familiar voice. Surely you know this better than anyone.

Verve moaned.

“Here!”

Footsteps came lightly over the ground. A new presence parted the tall grasses and knelt at her side. “Oh, gods, are we too late?” Alem’s voice was hoarse. “Verve? Can you open your eyes? Can you hear me?”

“Let me,” said Sohvi.

A warm feeling pooled around Verve’s heart at the sound of her friend’s voice.

Wait. Her friend? Sohvi was a stranger, and a hostile one at that. Why did she feel like a friend now?

“Be easy, relah,” Sohvi murmured, her palm brushing Verve’s cheek. The southern slang word for kin echoed in Verve’s head, but before she could wonder too much, Sohvi’s voice spoke again, this time in her mind. Let me in.

Verve had little choice. Sohvi’s awareness brushed hers, gentle as her touch, and the strange new voice in Verve’s mind—the one that had chided her—keened with grief.

Cel’s gone, and he left me trapped within this…killer.

I know, Sohvi replied, sorrow tinting her words. But he swore an oath to preserve you, and so he did. To the end.

Better to be dead than one who brings death. The presence coiled in on itself, wracked with bitterness.

Vervaine, Sohvi said. Can you answer me?

Verve opened her mouth, but her swollen tongue did little more than flop against her teeth. Even that minor movement sent pain shooting through her head with renewed force. She moaned again.

“You’re hurting her,” Alem said. “She’s near the river’s shore, close to death. Question her later, if you must, but let me work now.”

“Keep your distance,” Hasina said in a low, dangerous voice. “Watch for Legion’s return.”

“Oh, go fall on your axe,” Alem shot back. “If not for me, you’d still be wandering around the province looking for Celidon. Now get out of my way.”

Alem. Verve tried to say his name, but her mouth still didn’t cooperate. But it didn’t matter, for then he was at her side again, hands grasping hers.

“But she’s dripping in hematite,” Hasina began.

“Shut up,” Alem hissed. “Your part’s done. Let me handle mine.”

Verve desperately wanted to smile. Warmth flooded her, like sunlight pouring through each vein. The throbbing pain that had taken over her body eased enough for her head to clear a little. Her vision focused; Alem’s features came into view as he knelt over her, eyes closed, face pinched in concentration. Black hair stuck out at odd angles from his braids and sweat beaded his upper lip.

“I told you,” she croaked, “not to worry about me.”

His eyes flew open as he stared at her. “Sorry to disappoint.”

She managed a smile. “You’ve never.”

Sohvi cleared her throat. “She’s well enough to speak now?”

“She’s out of danger — for the moment,” Alem said, cradling Verve’s hand. “But I’ll need to work on her a bit more before we can move her safely. Must you interrogate her now?”

“The first few hours after a meridian’s death are critical,” Hasina said as Sohvi came to Verve’s side once more. “Sohvi needs to understand exactly what happened to Celidon, and for that, she needs to speak to Verve.”

Alem’s jaw tightened, and he jerked his chin. “The bloodstains over there seem pretty damn explanatory to me. I’m sorry your friend is gone, but Verve is alive and I intend to keep her that way.”

---