of the seeds left by the Destroyer, so that he might weaken Koth—and so there will be no refuge for those who flee from him?” He met Aerax’s eyes. “You say the outlanders spoke of foul magics.”
“They did,” Aerax said. “Another claimed that it was wraiths who killed the soldiers.”
Lady Junica sharply added, “That cannot be. Nothing of magic can exist on Koth’s heart that is not Varrin’s own.” With a lift of her hand, she gestured to Aerax’s hair, as if to remind them all of how his ancient forefather had become a god. “That was Varrin’s gift to us—that we would be safe from magic that would do us harm.”
Riasa’s brow creased. “Perhaps there are no foul magics on the island, then, but you said these marauders were in the outlands—where there also might be magic.”
“The marauders who killed the soldiers defending the King’s Walk were not wraiths.” Again Lady Junica appealed to the Krimathean. “My lady, Koth will also pledge to you our blood and our steel and help defend against the Destroyer when he arrives. But I fear that without your assistance, we will have no blood and steel to offer.”
Around them again were baffled stares when she shook her head—and fear and frustration from the Kothans.
All of Aerax’s control it took to swallow the hot bile of his own frustration. For he knew what had happened, and why they were being denied. At the river, the Krimathean had waited for the entire caravan to cross before following—all the while sitting on the dock with two Parsatheans left behind to hear what the fisherwoman had to tell them.
To the Krimathean, he said, “The woman at the ferry told you a story?”
“What story?” Lady Junica asked, puzzlement creasing her brow. “That she followed her son around the world?”
Not that story, but another—one that had named Aerax a villain. But he cared nothing of that, except that never could he complete his purpose if Koth received no help.
Her gaze on his, the Krimathean nodded.
“And now you would like to hear the truth of that battle?” he asked. When she nodded again, Aerax stood from his chair. “Then I will find her.”
“Find who?” Lady Junica asked again.
Always Aerax would say her name. But he would not give them opportunity to prepare a false defense against her. So he only said, “Someone who you’d best pray still cares for all who live on the island.”
Or Koth might soon reap what its lies had sown.
CHAPTER 11
LIZZAN
She had not known there would be so many stairs. Nor had she expected them to be so uneven.
But though she stumbled, Lizzan would not falter. The most splendid of all ideas had come to her as she’d ridden into Oana earlier that day—that she would take a quest from the goddess Vela.
She knew not why it hadn’t occurred to her before. Perhaps because she’d not met Laina, or anyone else who had worn the red cloak. Perhaps because she’d not met the fisherwoman, who had spoken the truth of redemption.
Or perhaps because her thoughts had been so full of Aerax. But the ale in the bandits’ barrels had taken care of that. So strong it had been. As had been the beer at the tavern she’d visited upon reaching the village. There she had looked for work but was told that in the past season, travelers coming from the north along this road had dwindled to almost none, and even fewer now arrived from the east. As if everyone who intended to flee had already fled.
But no worries did Lizzan have. Thanks to the bandits, her purse was full. So she had lingered at the tavern, and as promised she told the story of Ilris’s mother—and told it again and again to those curious about a woman who was from Oana, and as they all tried to guess who it might be. And in every telling, Lizzan thought that the fisherwoman had been correct: soon they would all be dead.
But Lizzan might make something of her death. If she served Vela, so simple it would be to undo all the shame her family knew.
Simple, after she reached the temple. High into the canopy it was. As if she might soon climb to the moon and visit with Vela herself. She stumbled up the final stairs, thighs and lungs burning—then saw the counterweight lift that she might have used.
But the path was never easy, as they said.
The temple doors sprang wide at the slightest push. She