The Complete Rhenwars Saga: An Epic Fantasy Pentalogy by M. L. Spencer

Author:M. L. Spencer [Spencer, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780997177947
Publisher: Stoneguard Publications
Published: 2018-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

9

A Single Blade

Kyel watched Meiran sipping tea at the table in Devlin Craig’s quarters. She held the teacup in both hands, her slender fingers pyramided to support it. Her face was still pale and gaunt. A little grayish, especially under the eyes. She looked unwell. But at least she wasn’t dead.

For that, Kyel was grateful … but also mystified.

Craig sat down on the bench beside Kyel, setting his cup down on the gouged and splintered table. Kyel’s eyes went to the cup, noticing the steam rising off of it. The smell of coffee made his mouth water. He looked down at his own cup, filled with the same weak tea Meiran was drinking. He took a sip, trying not to make a face.

“The arrows were dipped in toxin,” Meiran explained wearily. The cup in her hands trembled ever so slightly. “I healed the wounds, but I couldn’t clear the poison from my blood. It worked too fast. I was out within seconds.” She brought her teacup to her lips, closing her eyes as her hands trembled.

That explained why Kyel hadn’t found any wounds on her, just rotting tissue. He thought it odd, though, that the toxin itself hadn’t killed her. She’d gotten lucky. More than lucky.

Craig grunted. “That’s why they left you for dead.”

Meiran leaned forward, her hair swaying into her face. She pushed it back absently. “I still can’t believe you healed me,” she said to Kyel with a flat expression on her face. “You never had a talent for it. You must have come a long way since I left.”

“Naia helped,” Kyel admitted, feeling a sharp pang of sorrow.

Meiran said nothing, but took another sip of her tea. She hadn’t reacted when he’d told her about Naia and Sareen. And about the Conclave. He really didn’t know how Meiran was taking it all, whether she was angry or sad or anything in between. Come to think of it, she’d shown barely any emotion at all since she’d first woken up and cried her eyes dry against his shoulder. She was like a cloth that had been wrung out, all the substance within her drained.

“What can you tell us about the Servants?” Craig pressed. He leaned forward, the rickety bench shifting and groaning beneath his weight.

Meiran looked up, gazing at him through dark strands of hair. “There’s a lot more depth to them than I ever expected. They’re far more human than I ever thought they would be. So much more … but also so much less.”

She stared down at the table as if studying the furrows in the wood. Her fingernails scratched at a nick on the surface. “I always thought they’d be nothing but soulless demons. Pure, perfect evil. But they’re not. They’re different. In a way, they are even more sinister.

“Quinlan Reis is a textbook example,” she went on, her voice strengthening. “He seems utterly normal: polite, conversational. Sophisticated. His heart seems to be in the right place, at least on the surface. But deep inside, he’s desperately flawed.

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