Page 116 of Lies of the Wicked
Brenneth nodded while rubbing a hand over his fist.
“Hardly inconspicuous, General Whitfield.” Christof’s tone was bold, as usual.
“Which is where this comes in,” Soren countered, sliding Eiliana’s Illusion Spell toward him. “Masking not only shape, butsize,will be advantageous to hide us properly. Here’s your copy.”
Christof countered, “Fire won’t protect an Illusion Spell.”
Jussal grinned. “That’s where Thessa comes in.”
“I can’t protect everyone,” she interjected.
Christof scrunched his face at Jussal. “What does the female have to offer?”
Soren stood, slapping both his hands on the fresh-cut table. “Her. Name. Is. Thessa.”
Thessa’s eyes bulged.Sit, please.
He didn’t. Soren glared at the leader of the northern rebellion with an obsidian storm brewing in his eyes.
Brenneth palmed his face.
Soren spoke through his teeth. “If you have a question, you may ask her directly.”
Christof swallowed before shifting his gaze to Thessa. “My apologies, Thessa.” His words held reluctance, but they landed. “What is it you do?”
Only once she accepted his apology had Soren been willing to slide to his seat. From that moment on, his eyes never left Christof.
“My shadows don’t yield to flame,” Thessa said.
A single dark eyebrow on Christof rose sky-high. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” Soren hissed.
“Interesting.” Christof’s tone was skeptical. “We’ll see how well then, won’t we?” He stood, disdain stitching his brows. “If there’s nothing more to discuss, consider the northern rebellion ready for battle, we’ll be waiting in the alleyways at first light.”
“Sinclaire has your weapons.” Soren jerked his head toward the silent daggersmith, an unspoken order to retrieve them.
Sinclaire obliged, scurrying out of the tent like he was on fire.
“I’ll show you to Sinclaire’s tent,” Brenneth offered Christof, escorting him through the flaps.
“Well, that went well,” Sila muttered with sarcasm.
“Sila, dear.” Jussal reached for her hand. “There’s much to do. And son … save that temper for our true enemies.”
“Thessa,” Sila said. “Thank you for trying to speak with them first. It’s very brave of you.”
“I’ll try my best.”
When Thessa and Soren were left alone, she rolled her eyes and started, “You remind me of a child sometimes.”
His jaw clenched. “Christof has me on edge.”
“I’m aware. Everyone is aware.”
“And I learn you have a thing for daggersmiths?”
She scoffed. “Daggers, Soren. Not the smiths.”
