“Is that not the way of things for all daughters of the God-Incarnate?”

The closer the docks, the more troubling her surroundings. What began as a few straggling followers grew in number. At first they said nothing, only glared with arms crossed or hands thrust into pockets. Sinshei pretended not to notice. Of course the people would be emboldened after Magus’s death, but to acknowledge it might only increase that confidence.

They turned a corner, to the final slope down to the docks, and found the pathway blocked entirely. Men with knives and clubs. Just a rabble, not an army, but they numbered at least fifty to a mere two.

“It seems the fun doesn’t stop today, does it?” Soma said.

The angry crowd closed in, surrounded them, blocking their pathway on all sides. They weren’t silent, not anymore. Men called her names. Women insulted her honor. They cast crimes at her feet, some deserved, most not. Despite their anger, they kept out of reach. They weren’t ready, she knew, not yet. The violence was coming. It needed to be sparked first, be it by Soma readying his spear or her attempting to flee. If they hoped to frighten her, they failed. If they thought to intimidate her, she proved it false by openly laughing at their attempts.

“Louder,” she said. “I cannot hear you.”

Sinshei gave no thought to the words they hurled at her. Accusations of murder, of denying trial to the hanged. Blame for the fires. Lingering anger over dead loved ones hung at the Dead Flags, as if she were the one choosing the victims instead of Magus. It meant nothing to her. More troubling were those with dark cloths tied over their faces. Through paint, sewing, or chalk, they all bore a now-familiar skull grin.

It seems you gain disciples, Vagrant, she thought.

Sinshei’s clenched-tooth grin spread wider. These people hating her, casting their curses and insults, should be thanking her. Magus was a heartless brute, who cared nothing for the suffering of those on Thanet. Yes, they would still die. Come the moment of divine inheritance, they would all die. But at least with her in charge, their deaths might be orderly, and painless.

“Shall I disperse them?” Soma asked, calm as could be. His right hand reached for the spear still clipped to his back. “Won’t take long, I promise.”

“No,” she said. Her hands clenched into fists. “I shall prepare the way.”