Markus eyed her. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” Emily sighed. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell him. Markus was innovative, as were his friends. They might start trying to build Mimics of their own, if they knew it was possible. But she had to tell them something. They had to understand that the ‘god’ was nothing more than a powerful spell. “Can I tell everyone at once? That’ll save some time.”
“If you must,” Markus said.
Emily groaned. “Janus was an accountant,” she said. “Harman was – is – an accountant too.”
Frieda swore. “You think he betrayed us?”
“Someone had to,” Emily said. She was sure she was right. “Janus was very well informed, right from the start. Harman could have betrayed us…”
And he wasn’t at the square when all hell broke loose, she added, mentally. Did someone warn him to stay away?
“Harman is an ass,” Markus said. “But that doesn’t make him a traitor.”
Emily frowned. They had no proof. But there were truth spells and truth potions and plenty of other ways to get information out of an unwilling donor. She doubted Sienna would hesitate to use the spells, if she was still alive. Her family had nearly been killed. And yet…
It made sense, she told herself again. Harman had been a guildmaster. He was, as he’d said himself, the last surviving guildmaster. Perhaps Janus had hoped Harman would join any resistance to the new theocracy, just so he could betray it from the inside. Or maybe he’d even been intended to lead the resistance, covertly keeping it powerless until the time came to drop the hammer. General Pollack certainly hadn’t been intended to survive.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “And if he is the traitor, we can use him.”
“I have no doubt of it.” Markus cocked his head. “Caleb just passed through the wards. Jo is bringing him up now. Should I give the two of you some privacy?”
“No,” Frieda said, quickly. “She’s in no shape for anything.”
Markus gave her a sharp look. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” He winked at Emily as she flushed. “Although I wouldn’t take Pandora’s advice lightly. If she’s told you to be careful, be careful.”
“I’ll be very careful,” Emily said. She didn’t feel up to doing more than holding hands. Her stomach felt queasy. “Frieda, why don’t you get some rest?”
“Because someone has to look after you,” Frieda said. “Emily…”
“Come with me,” Markus said, firmly. He reached out and took Frieda by the arm. Emily saw Frieda flinch and sighed, inwardly. Frieda had problems being touched too. “You can tell me what happened to you while Emily and Caleb have their emotional reunion.”
Frieda scowled. “I need to be with her…”
“I’ll be fine,” Emily promised. Caleb wasn’t going to hurt her. She trusted him not to hurt her, trusted him to kiss her…“You go take some rest.”
“Emily.” Frieda sounded almost as though she were pleading. “Be careful, please.”
The door opened. Caleb stepped in. Emily’s eyes went wide. Caleb looked…stricken. It crossed her mind, suddenly, that she didn’t know the rest of his family had survived. They could be dead. Caleb could be the last survivor. Or…her imagination provided too many possibilities, each one worse than the last. General Pollack and Sienna might have been captured and brainwashed by now…
“Emily.” Caleb sounded worried. He hurried over to the bed and gave her a hug. “She didn’t make it out in time.”
Emily stared at him as he pulled back. “Who didn’t make it out in time?”
“Marian,” Caleb said. She could hear panic and fear in his voice. “They caught her! They took her!”
Emily swallowed, hard. The Fists of Justice were sacrificing children – and young adults – to power their god. Marian – a young woman with magic, but only limited training – would be an ideal sacrifice. They’d put her on one of the altars, stab her with their staffs…she shuddered at the thought. Marian had been rude and unpleasant, but she didn’t deserve to die like that. No one did.
“Then we have to get her back,” she said, standing up. Her legs still felt wobbly. “Where is everyone?”
“Fishing Plaice,” Caleb said. “I said I’d bring you back with me.”
Frieda cleared her throat, loudly. “Emily isn’t fit to travel. Bring your family here.”
“I have to go,” Emily said. She could make it, if she tried. “Someone has to explain what’s actually happening.”
She took a breath. “And someone also has to deal with Harman. He might have betrayed us.”
“I’ll kill him,” Caleb vowed. “If he hurt my sister…I’ll kill him!”
“I know.” Emily felt a sudden stab of envy. Marian was lucky to have siblings who cared about her. “And I’ll help you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“SHE’S STILL ALIVE,” SIENNA SAID. “I performed a blood rite. She’s still alive, but I can’t find her.”
Emily nodded, trying to breathe through her mouth as she stood in the kitchen. The tiny house in Fishing Plaice stank of rotting fish, along with other things she didn’t care to think about. Caleb had said, as they’d slipped through the streets, that it was a dosshouse for new immigrants, although most of them apparently moved on as soon as they found a decent job and better lodgings. It had been empty, apparently, until the resistance had turned it into a base. She could see why.
Sienna paced the room. “I’ll kill him. I swear…I’ll kill him.”
Emily kept her face expressionless. General Pollack had been utterly furious when Caleb had told him about Harman. Emily knew he could accept political differences, even outright enmity, but not betrayal. And it hadn’t just been General Pollack who’d been betrayed. His children had been lucky to escape the blaze…