“I’m Millner’s only living sister,” Katallia corrects, nothing sweet in her matter-of-fact tone.
“Thank you for letting us into your home.” Hate that I’m lying here instead of sitting up and greeting her properly. I might be gruff sometimes, but I have learned a fair share of manners. I roll to my good side and struggle for breath. Try to push myself up to sitting. It takes a long time, but I get there.
With a measured gaze, Katallia approaches the bed. “My home is in Shaerdan. This is a safe passage house for Channelers.” Her words are as pointed and crisp as her walk.
She waits for my reaction, of which I give none. Something in me recognizes the predatory hint behind those gray eyes. After all, I’ve been on the king’s payroll for a year and a half.
“My niece said you needed a carrier pigeon.”
Earlier, Lirra told me that this home, where I’m laid up, is south of Lord Freil’s fiefdom in the small logging village of Tahr. Though we’re at least one hundred leagues from Brentyn, a homing bird could fly a letter to the castle in a day.
“I need to get an urgent message to the king.”
“And what will you tell them of my niece?” Like Lirra, this woman wastes no time in getting to the grit.
I wouldn’t put Lirra in danger if that’s what she’s suggesting. I get that Lirra’s walking a hazardous path being here in Malam. Should anyone find out that her father is the Archtraitor, Lirra would be killed. Same result if she was discovered to be a Channeler.
“Nothing. I wouldn’t jeopardize a friend for my own gain,” I tell Katallia, but my focus is on Lirra. I want her to see the intention behind my words. I want her to know she can trust me.
Katallia doesn’t say more. She stands beside the bed, watching me. I figure she’s going to allow me to stay here because she clips out, “Very well,” and then pivots and leaves.
Her absence makes the air in the room easier to breathe. Not going to deny that.
“She can be frightening.” Lirra coughs out a small laugh.
“Her? No way.”
Lirra rolls her eyes.
“All right, she’s intense, but I appreciate that.”
“She’s a member of the Guild.” Lirra drums her fingers on her thigh.
“The Channeler teachers?”
Lirra latches the door and rests her back on the wood planks. “They’re not just teachers. They’re the leaders of the Channelers in Shaerdan. And they’re working to overthrow the Purge.”
That last bit is news. I get the impression that Lirra, like her aunt Katallia, is testing me. That she’s got a limited range of acceptance for appropriate responses.
“So this home is owned by the Guild, not your aunt?”
“Correct.”
She pushes off the door and comes to stand at the foot of the bed. “The entire Guild will be here tomorrow. Like me, they’re trying to figure out where all the missing Shaerdanian Channeler girls are.”
This catches me by surprise.
“Why would they meet here, and not in Shaerdan?”
“Well, all the missing girls are being brought to Malam, so who better to ask for help than the Channelers in hiding? The Guild will meet here to plan.”
I always thought there were less than a few handfuls of Channelers still risking their lives in Malam. Perhaps there are more. Just to be sure: “You’re talking about women here? The Guild is going to organize help from Channelers in Malam?”
Lirra nods slowly. “Yeah.”
Right. I get that. “How many Channelers are we talking about?”
“Hundreds.”
Not the answer I was expecting.
“That’s why my aunt demands your silence. Can you imagine if she was accused? Anyone who starts turning over rocks would be able to connect the women Aunt Kat spends the most time with. The entire Channeler network in Malam would collapse.”
Though I’ve been living with the gravity of what it means for loved ones to be accused of being Channelers, this information stuns me. The Guild, along with the hundreds of Channelers Lirra mentioned, could change the future of Malam. Is it possible they could overturn the Purge? Hope rises inside at the thought. The fear I carry daily for Britta would be eliminated if the Purge Proclamation is overturned.
I grin at her. “I’m a supporter.”
Always skeptical, she chews her lip and goes back to sitting in the chair by the window. I debate whether I should try to lie back down or check in on Omar.
Knowing I’m rubbish at sitting still, I take a moment to mentally steel myself for the pain of standing. Once I’m on my feet though—
Mother of bloody stars. I huff out a horse of a breath.
Lirra sneaks under my good arm, supporting my weight with her shoulders. Her little hands are wrapped around me. I chuckle to myself, because when she was smacking salve on me earlier, they sure didn’t feel so small. Reminds me so much of my sister, Imogen. Someone needs to teach Lirra to be a better nursemaid.
We hobble out of the room and along the hall of the two-story home.
“Gods’ stars, you need a bath,” Lirra mutters as she pushes open the next door and helps me inside.
I let her comment go because one, she’s probably right, and two, Leif pushes out of his chair where he’s sitting beside Omar. “You’re up.”
“I’m trying. Good to see you, Leif.”
He eyes me from head to toe and responds with a relieved smile. “You too.”
Taking my weight off Lirra, Leif helps me into the chair beside Omar. I start to ask how Omar’s doing today and stop. Bruising crawls out of the captain’s tunic, purple and blue. Other than the mottled color, his skin is paler than Britta’s, and that’s never a good sign.
“He going to make it?” I rest my palm on the bed beside Omar.
Leif shrugs, weary and somber.
A fist of anger and frustration hits me in the good ribs. Omar might not be my favorite person, but he’s stalwart and loyal. He’s been the man I’ve reported to since I started bounty hunting. Our travel party has already lost Wallace and Geoffrey. I don’t want to return to Castle Neart having lost Omar as well.
The Archtraitor’s daughter moves to Omar’s side and peers over the broken man. “Aunt Kat’s done all she can. But he needs a true healer.” The usual spark in her tone is extinguished. She turns and gives Leif a threatening look. “By now, I’m sure you’ve figured out that my aunt is a Channeler, and I’m one as well. This home belongs to the Channelers Guild.”
Leif straightens, his shoulders stiff. “I wasn’t going to—”
Lirra lifts her hand, silencing the guard. She rotates, her fierce glare absorbing me and Leif. “Should anyone in this room bring condemnation on me or my aunt, or anyone connected to our family, because of the gifts we were born with—” She walks her fingers over Omar’s bruising and stalls over his heart. “I’ll kill you. All of you.”
Silence.
While I could try to muster up a laugh to diffuse the tension, her ferocity has dried my mouth. Gooseflesh raises the hair on my arms. Her promise could frighten the fur off a black bear.
Being the smart men that we are, no one dares move as Lirra stalks out of the room.