A Fate of Wrath & Flame

could have slipped into the yawning shadows of the bishop’s residence and snapped the neck of that sanctimonious prick leading the charge.

“If this is a ploy to escape …”

“Yes, yes … off with her head.” Though I’m not sure the guillotine is part of the square’s repertoire.

He inhales sharply, his grasp of my body tightening, though not painfully so. “You enjoy testing me.”

“Why? Is it dangerous here?” It can’t be worse than some of the shelters I found myself in, back in the early days, before I made friends and learned how to navigate the city’s system. Some of those places were more hazardous than sleeping on a park bench.

“Not with me beside you.”

The

“See? Not completely insufferable,” he murmurs.

“No. I guess not.”

“I was speaking to myself.”

He needs me, though, should another daaknar show up. A reality that must burn his insides. Is that the only reason I’m still alive?

I quell my natural urge to respond with anything but courtesy