Page 75 of The Fake Divination Offense
“What would you do?” I ask Ilbryen, voice low.
“Tem will be removed as his handler—”
Tem curses.
“—and Belzaroth will be taken somewhere not far off from what you described. Given the increase in the cultists’ severity, we need to step up our protection of him. We have a number of safehouses where he will be secluded.”
Bel winces. “How secluded?”
“You would have a new handler who would leave only for monthly supply runs.”
Another wince. I echo it.
“For how long?” he asks, surprisingly impassive. Or maybe he’s just resigned.
Ilbryen’s silent for a moment. “The cultists have proven they are vicious and determined. You will always be at risk, Belzaroth, and we no longer have the resources to keep shuffling you around. I’m sorry.”
So… indefinitely?
“No.” My jaw’s so tight a headache lances across my skull. “There’s a reason the official Galaxrien Temple keeps disavowing these damn idiot cultists. They aren’tvicious—they’re morons. The Temple doesn’t have Galaxrien’s authorized prophesied return happening for a fullcentury, and it doesn’t involve a human component at all. Meanwhile, these idiots keep saying shit like they need a piece of hair, or no, a whole sacrifice; they’re resurrecting Galaxrien, or no, summoning him. They can’t even get their own fanaticism right.”
Ilbryen’s eyes narrow. “And why, exactly, do you have knowledge of Galaxrien’s prophecy?”
For a beat, Tem looks smug, still glowering behind that arcane wall.
I don’t back down. “You listed my credentials when you came in. My Mageus in Theological Evocation. I know about a lot of religious rituals, not just this one, so if you’re implying I have some hidden ties to the cultists, I’m sure Gulus over there has a truth potion he could lob at me. Go for it. Ask me anything, I’m an open book.”
“Your point, Mr. Monroe?” Ilbryen pushes. And it is that, apush.
Not that I need one. This is what was always going to happen, from the moment Bel told me who he really is.
“My point is that Bel shouldn’t have to give up his life for zealot dumbasses. He shouldn’t have to hide in the middle of nowhereforever. He’s bright and talented andalive, gods damn it; let him live. You need to increase his security, I get that, and I wholeheartedly agree. So let him stay with me.”
Chapter Ten
Bel’s jaw drops with a strangled huff. “What?”
I take his hands. “Move in with me. I live in a building with high-end security, and I have access to top-of-the-line safety spells.” Whatever I can’t buy, Seb and Thio can make. “Yeah, the cultists figured out that Galaxrien’s descendant is connected to Urzoth’s church, but they don’t know it’syou.This is still the safest place for you. You’re attached to a”—my throat catches but I quickly swallow—“a high-profile Urzoth public figure. It’s hardly the same as being a random churchgoer. No one would be able to snatch you away easily. Instead of abandoning the Urzoth ties, we double down on them. Move in with me.”
I don’t give anyone a chance to speak; I look at Ilbryen.
“I worked for adventure parties in college,” I tell her. “Not as an adventurer, but answering calls—so I’m in your system, background checked, the whole thing. Which you probably already know. But you can run another check on me if you need, or douse me in whatever truth potions you’ve got. I’ll follow any protocols, do whatever you demand. My training as an athlete helps, too—this isn’t much different from learning an opponent’s plays or what defensive maneuvers I’ll need to utilize. I can do this. Let him stay with me.”
One detail has my chest seizing, and I spin back on Bel.
“If you want,” I say. “This is only ifyouwant it.”
Bel looks absolutely shell-shocked. His black eyes are glistening, those gold irises gleaming.
“You can’t do this,” he says, barely audible. “I—you don’t know what you’re offering. What you’re taking on. People are trying tokill me, and you’d be in the middle of that. I can’t ask you to do this.”
“So you’ll lock yourself away for the rest of your life? You aren’t asking me to do anything. Iwantto do this for you.”
Tears spill down his face and he shakes his head, but it’s like he’s refuting his own thoughts, his own arguments. “No,no—gods, you just found out I’ve been lying to you! You didn’t even know my real name untilten minutes ago.Orok—you can’t want this. Youcan’t.”
He pushes his fist against his mouth to stifle a sob, his shoulders heaving.
I touch that fist, pull it to me, and kiss his knuckles. “I do want it, Bel. What doyouwant?”
