“—he’ll kill you for this!”

Arsen, who had been staring down with Mircea, turned his attention on me, which would have been enough to end him, if I hadn’t shot Mircea a warning glance. His hand paused halfway to the bloody stake, not that he needed it. We both knew that, with it out of his body, he could drain Arsen in a heartbeat if he wanted.

But I guessed he wanted to hear this more, because he waited.

“He was going to kill me in any case,” Arsen said savagely. “I would not allow your ally to be a meal for a monster, nor permit the king to bring back the old gods!”

“But… don’t you worship them, too?” I asked, feeling confused.

“Worship them?” he stared at me. “They almost destroyed us in their constant wars of the past! And we have done nothing but fight since the king began his current campaign. I prefer to give my allegiance to those who value life!”

“We all value life,” Mircea said, and for once, the master negotiator misread the situation. And I guessed he was also still working on getting his equilibrium back, because he didn’t manage to dodge when Arsen kicked him savagely in the face.

Mircea fell backwards and I grabbed Arsen again, before he could go after him. “Listen to me—”

“Why should I? When you bring that monster with you?”

“He’s not a monster—”

“You lie! I saw the things it did—”

“—any more than Ronog is!”

He had been facing away from me, pulling against my grip. But at that he stopped, and his head snapped back toward mine. His eyes were suddenly tawny slits, and his face lean and dangerous.

“How do you know that name?”

It was a whisper, but it sent a chill up my back, nonetheless. More so than a shout would have done. I had better choose my words really damned carefully, I thought.

I decided to go with honesty, since he seemed to respect it. And since coming up with a convincing lie right then would have been impossible. “I saw her in the Common,” I admitted. “I saw the two of you together. It was beautiful—”

He grabbed my arms, both of them, Mircea forgotten. “Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying! She’s beautiful, with long, curly red hair and a freckled face. She was pregnant with your child—only that was a while ago. I assume he—or she—has been born by now. That you two have a—” I stopped, because a look of such pain crossed Arsen’s features that it made me draw in my breath in shock—and pity. “She’s dead?” I whispered, because I didn’t know what else could have caused that kind of despair.