Page 97 of Reap & Sow

“You may have made a demon’s Pact, but you claim this greater evil is the bishop’s doing, as does Wolfram. I am inclined to believe it.” Eda’s heart soared, but Tenelle continued, “The problem, Miss Shaw, is that you did not send word to Wolfram tonight as promised. Lich warned me first. Now I find the bishop and his men all but slaughtered, with only yourself unharmed.” She finished the bindings, tugging on the rope painfully. “I am left with little choice but to apprehend you in lieu of a more obvious culprit.” She circled back around.

Eda took an unsteady breath. “I’d ask that you trust me.”

“I do not.”

“I suppose asking for faith would be too on the nose.”

A snort.

“Then trust your own intuition, Commander.”

“Intuition is not enough to convict a man.”

“The bishop is setting me up,” Eda hissed. I have to make her see. “Once he heard you were coming, he knew he’d be caught, so he commanded the fiends to attack his own men.”

“I no longer doubt his ability.” Tenelle’s dark eyes flickered toward the man in question. “But I cannot prove it, and evidently, neither can you. You are a wanted woman and guilty of consorting with demons. That is irrefutable.”

If Tenelle meant to throw her in a cell, so be it, but saints fucking damn it, Florian Fane should be joining her!

“You mean to do nothing? These attacks won’t stop so long as Fane goes unchallenged.”

Tenelle mouth twisted. “The Clerics’ Conclave is being held at the Great Templehouse three days hence. The Patriarch will be naming a new Head Cleric, who stands to inherit the Patriarchy when he passes. I’ve heard that in response to the great works Bishop Florian has sown here in Blackbridge; he is the clear favorite.” She grabbed Eda by the scruff of her shirt and hauled her toward the rest of her men, where Fane watched them with searching eyes. “If you’ve some clever idea on how to condemn such a man, I would hear it.”

Icy dread leached through Eda like branches of a frost-kissed tree. Of course. Of course this was Fane’s true ambition—to be made Head Cleric. He’d implied as much, had spoken of the Conclave when he first arrived in Blackbridge. Kit had warned her too. Powerful men get where they are by looking out for themselves.

All this horror, all this death…for what? In the Shaws’ cellar, Fane had spoken of wanting only to guide the Faithless, of seeking the greater good. But he harbored baser aspirations. If he’d deluded himself into believing a zealous fantasy in which he was the Lordfather’s righteous warrior, it was only to excuse his own mortal greed. What irony, that a man who exulted mercy and honor could possess so little of either.

If the other clerics voted him in, Fane’s path to power would be assured. A mere three days away.

Autumn harvest.

Kit, where are you? She was just beginning to feel lightheaded with the idea that something terrible had happened to him, or, just as painful, He’s left me, when a moon-pale flash stirred in the dark.

Mr. Night. He stood at some distance in the shadow of a leaning tree, motionless but for his hair fluttering in the breeze. No one else noticed him. He spared Eda a small, nearly affectionate smile as she was hauled along like an unruly dog.

Bastard.

She suddenly understood. Mr. Night was waiting to see if Kit really would come for her. But Kit was not foolish enough to reveal himself. Eda looked for signs of him, but spotting a shape-shifter in the darkness was futile. If he was here, he was keeping his distance. Would he simply watch if they decided to kill her?

Her chest ached, hollow as a conch on the shore.

As she glared at Mr. Night’s brazen taunt, so calm in the face of losing his coveted Gateway, her thoughts faltered and stuck like a wheel in mud. Mr. Night told Fane that if the mirror was destroyed, he expected him to find another. He wasn’t worried…because there was another Gateway in Blackbridge.

Lich has one.

That was why Lich called Tenelle here. He never cared about owning the mirror—he only wanted to make sure no one else got it. If the Blades destroyed it, his would be the only Gateway in Blackbridge. Maybe all of Wesland. And Fane would be forced to use Lich’s instead. The bishop would have to pay Lich whatever he wanted to keep using it.

Eda’s mind spun wildly. “Commander,” she said from the corner of her mouth, “I need to speak to you. Privately.”

“There is nothing left to say.”

“Please. If you care at all about stopping these attacks, give me a moment before you throw me in some dark cell. Just one.”

Tenelle glanced sideways at her. They stopped before Fane. “Bishop Florian,” the commander said, “you’ve been through quite the ordeal. But you will shore up your remaining strength and allow my men to escort you to Fell Keep. All those involved in this debacle must be questioned.”

Fane inclined his head. “Of course. What of the Gateway?”

“It will be taken into our custody.” Tenelle watched his face, but the bishop’s fledgling frown disappeared like passing clouds.