Chapters (70)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Map
- Epigraph
- BEGINNINGS
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- PART II
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- TRICKSTER
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Also by Susan Dennard
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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She had also felt and seen his temper. It would infuriate him enough to have Safi escape his clutches, but how would he react when he realized his prize nephew and only heir was gone too? Deep beneath all those masks, Safi suspected, Henrick cared for Leopold. Perhaps even loved him.
“This is bigger than the Hell-Bards.” Leopold opened his arms, a wide, fluid movement. “You and Iseult are bigger than the Hell-Bards or Cartorra or any wrath Henrick might unfurl. All that matters is uniting the Cahr Awen, Safiya. All that matters is getting you to the final Well.”
Safi’s eyes narrowed. Something in his words did not ring true; something he said made the Truth-lens scratch across her skin.
“If uniting us is all that matters,” she asked slowly, “then why did you let Iseult leave?” She had already asked this question; he had already given answers. Yet now, those answers seemed inadequate. False, even. And now she had enough of her magic to prove it.
She advanced on Leopold and thrust her face close to his. He was a graceful, beautiful man, but not a tall one. Safi’s nose almost touched his. “You let Iseult go. Why, Polly?”
He drew in a long breath, but did not back away. Did not avert his eyes. “I told you—” he began.
“Tell me again.”
“I could not risk being caught.”
“Why?”
A slight twitch on his cheeks. He preserved his silence.
“If you expect me to travel with you across Cartorra, Polly, then I need to trust you. So far, you have helped me—I won’t deny that. But nothing you’ve done has given me reason to believe anything you say. You are manipulative, you play games, you were trained by Henrick to be just like him.”
Still, Leopold said nothing. As the heartbeats passed, a coldness settled over him. His jaw hardened, his eyes turned flinty.
“Make me trust you, Polly. Please. Or I swear I will leave without you.”
His nostrils flared. He spoke at last: “I will not and cannot deny anything you’ve said, Safiya, but may I remind you of a few pertinent details?” He dipped his head closer. His voice dropped low. “I am the reason the Bloodwitch monk did not catch up to you in Nubrevna. I am the reason Iseult escaped Tirla alive. I am the reason she escaped the Monastery and reached Cartorra—reached you. And I, Safiya, am the reason you have that Truth-lens draped across your neck.