Anya sobbed into her hands, tears pooling in her palm and soaking into the bandage. The tears were not faked; her heart ached to see her son again, and the tears spilt forth at the slightest provocation.
The priests' arrival had been unexpected. And they knew about Eugen. They would try and find him. Perhaps they really could save him... But the rising hope was crushed by the next thought. What of the... arrangement? A pang of pain shot from her hand into her arm. She did not want to cross the shadow again...
Doubt was stirring in her heart; the Purgator was so young, and so kind. But... Eugen. She had to. She had no choice.
Her hand ached incessantly; icy pain ran from the wound up into her wrist and out to the tips of her fingers. It took all her willpower not to show the pain; if any of them saw the wound they would figure out more than they should know.
What would they do now? She listened to them speaking; they spoke as if she was not even there. They did not know where Eugen had been taken. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Beneficar walk towards her.
"Anya," he said softly, "I know this is hard, but we need you to tell us where the darkness is deepest around here. It might help us to find your son."
Her mind raced. She knew well the place they were seeking; but she hesitated to tell them. If they left now, she would lose the best chance she had. If she sent them the wrong way there was no chance of them rescuing her son. But if told them the truth and the shadow discovered what she had done... she shuddered.
"Anya?" The old man grasped her hand gently.
Suddenly, a thought dawned. She would lead them to the forest. If they rescued Eugen, all was well; if they failed, she was simply bringing her prize to the shadow herself.
She looked up at the Beneficar, letting the dawning clarity show in her eyes. "I know the way."
In the corner of her eye, almost unseen, shadows danced and span.
No comments:
Post a Comment