The priest’s handsome smile never wavered. “Trust me, my lady, your other choice is even less attractive.”

“Is it?” Keita asked, her head tipped to one side, her hand abruptly pointing at one of the Zealot guards standing near her.

The guard coughed and blood shot out of his mouth and down his chin. Seconds later, blood flowed from his eyes—he still had both—and his nose.

The priest, although physically missing his eyes, still had a sight provided to him by his god.

“What have you done, witch?”

“Me? A witch?” Keita smiled at that. “No, no. I am lacking that skill. But tell me . . . did you enjoy the water from the stream you rested by last night?”

Brannie stomped her foot. “Keita!”

“What? It will wash away soon enough.”

“You hope!”

“Can your chastising wait, O’ flawless one?” When Brannie looked away from her cousin’s gaze, Keita went on. “Now . . . where were we? Oh, yes! The death of your guards.” With a flip of her wrist and a flourish of her arm, she gestured to the guards once more, who began dropping like dead trees. Some fell right over. Others dropped to their knees first and then landed facedown. Blood poured from every orifice and the royals backed away.

“You shouldn’t be here for this,” Keita told the royals. She handed Lord Breeton-Holmes a sealed parchment. “Take this directly to Dagmar Reinholdt. She will take good care of you. And thank you, my lord.”

“Of course, my lady.” He rushed his family back into the castle and Keita sent their few guards to saddle the horses from the stables so they could get on the road right away.

“Now,” Keita said once she had the Breeton-Holmeses on the move, “back to you, priest.”

“I drank that water . . . why am I—”

“Still alive? Because I know from my studies that all your priests and priestesses partake of the Sinnoch root. It helps with your mystical sight. It also is a natural protection from the poison I used. It stops the toxin from killing you. So while your guards may be dead, you have as long as I allow you to live.”

No longer in good humor, the priest snapped, “What do you want, woman?”

“Information, of course. What else do you think I want?”

The priest suddenly looked around. “You brought us here on purpose.”

“Of course, I did. You’re all so fucking predictable with your shit-loving god, it wasn’t really hard.”

“I’ll die before I—”

“You came in contact with an Eastlander not too long ago,” she cut in to the priest’s declaration. “Three weeks ago specifically. You met him in a pub and followed him out later that night. What happened after you followed him?”

The priest smirked. “I’ll tell you nothing. Have your”—he glanced at Brannie—“manly thugs—”

“Hey!”

“—do their most evil. I can withstand anything.”

“Can you?” Keita asked. She winced a bit. “I guess I should have mentioned. The root you eat nightly for your sight. It will keep you from dying. It will not, however, keep you from the brutal pain.”