Page 157 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” I croaked at Pete, whose face had drained of color, his hands clenching hilts of bothscianand sword.
“Maggie and I have done no such thing!” Rye shook frustrated hands. Obviously, he’d already denied their involvement. Maybe more than several times, his words falling on deaf ears. “We’d never met that lady afore last night, sir! We knew naught of her intentions for being there! And we didnotaid her in her plot! Now, set my ceyla free of your curse!”
Howlite sniffed, his lip curling. “I’ll set her free as soon as you turn over that conniving harlot.”
“I don’t know where she is!” Rye was losing his shit. Understandably. “If I knew, I’d tell you! What else can I give you? I’ll give anything. How much in the way of seeds did the lady burn? If I must, I’ll sell the pub to recoup what you’ve lost. It’ll be worth nothing without Maggie, anyhow. Just—please.”
I clutched a handful of my rumpled ponytail, wishing I hadn’t woken up.
Howlite sneered. “Your seeds are worthless to me. I. Want.Her.”
My throat constricted. Vengeance was Howlite’s only desired recompense. Shaking myself, I bid farewell to my freedom. “I’ve got to stop this.” I took the first step toward zombiedom.
Pete clamped my shoulder, pinning me in place. “Don’t be a damned fool, Shorty.” His growl wasn’t for me, but for the wolves among the lambs. “We must do something, aye, but your sacrifice won’t save Maggie.”
His breath, so close to my ear, sent shivers sweeping down my neck. “But you heard him!” I exclaimed. “He—”
“He’ll enslave Maggie anyhow.” The harbinger’s face flared with the rage of a man once sold into bondage. “He’ll enslave them all whether he has you or not. His greed knows no scruples.”
“But he just refused Rye’s offer.” Wouldn’t a tavern’s worth of seeds slake anyone’s greed?
“Noneof this is about what you did last night. Howlite and his cohorts are using that as a convenient excuse for gleaning half of all Humwater Dell, but you haven’t caused this, Shorty.” He withdrew from me and began pacing, squeezing the life out of his own mouth in his stress.
“Then why are they doing it?”
Pete raked his fluffy locks. “Howlite must be sniffing after a promotion.” He uttered this more to himself than to me. “This must’ve been sanctioned.”
“You mean he’d planned to do this?” My throat closed on an upwelling of nausea. “Before he even met me?”
Pete stopped, something potent and dangerous rippling through the set of his broad shoulders, then through the blade-like mind whetting itself on primal magic beyond those fresh-baked eyes. He fisted his sword hilt like he was already adding several royal officials to his kill tally. “Close your eyes, Shorty.”
I recoiled at this request.Whatwas he going to do?
When I failed to comply, Pete flung another shadow my way. Blindfolding me.
“Pete!” I pried at the tether. “Don’tyoube a damned fool either!”
He didn’t answer me for several nerve-wracking minutes. Minutes in which I imagined him descending on the slavers like a ravening raptor. My heart hammered as I listened for the inevitable screams.
Then the tether unbound my eyes, slithering off like a snake.
Blinking to resettle my vision to the light, I found Pete standing before me, peering through the crepe myrtles. “Sorry,” he said. “I needed to retrieve something from my sphere.”
“Your what?”
“My talismanic sphere.” His gaze shifted, assessing. “It’s what I use to store various necessities while on the road. Like the ossified emerald I wove through your tether.”
So that’s where he keeps his potions.“Like an invisible backpack?”
“More like a closet—for professional use.” Anger twitched through his mouth. “Each of the slavers has one, ken. It’s where they store those gold tethers they’re using right now.”
My breath hitched. “You mean—their tethers aren’t like yours?”
“Precisely, Shorty. Slavers’ tools of the trade aren’t rooted within them like harbingers’ are.”
Bile stung my throat. “These spheres—they don’t stock themselves, do they?”
“No,” he spat. “Every unrooted item kept there must be personally equipped. Every piece of food. Every blade. Every arrow. Everyslaver’stether.”
