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Nerys had little time to admire the dour setting before the “soldier” closed the tent flap and motioned to her to sit on the mat opposite him.

She hesitated at the grimy mat for a moment.

Sitting was not how one escaped. She eyed the man.

Would he let her go? Fuck—too late, she realized her mistake.

He could kill her—strangle her—before she uttered a scream.

Her only choice was to play along. She sat, adjusting her dirt-covered skirts around her, her attention never leaving him.

“Talk quietly,” he said once he took a seat, his rough accent disappearing in favor of something even more foreign—wispy. He was definitely Cerdorani. “The walls are cloth, not stone. And I doubt you want eavesdroppers.”

Nerys narrowed her eyes. “Neither do you. Your head is as thick as stone if you think you’re getting anything out of me, spy.” She clenched her fists.

The man smirked and adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. A spy should not been wearing the Ca’mailian blue. It was a disgrace. “I don’t need information from you.”

“Then what? You wanted company?” Nerys snapped with fake confidence.

The man slowly raised his eyes to her. “I think you’re in trouble.”

Nerys paused. They were at an impasse. Neither of them could afford attention from the soldiers—though, how much did this man know about her?

How much had he guessed? And Nerys was indeed trapped—it was unlikely the army would take her word over his.

They’d probably just execute them both. “How so?” she asked.

“You don’t belong in this camp.”

“I do too, my husband—”

“Stop.” The man said, raising a hand and cutting off her lies. “I didn’t survive this long by being easily fooled. You’re desperate.”

Nerys cocked her head. “What’s it to you?”

The man snorted. “I'll keep this short. I'm leaving the camp tonight.” His eyes glowed gold once more. “If you are what I think you are, I want you to come with me.”

“And what’s that? What am I?”

“Ca’mailian.”

“No shit, you’re in a camp of us. Wearing our uniform. And what do you need a Ca’mailian for? ”

“A favor. I’ll get you out of here in one piece—if you agree to listen to my plan once we’re out.”

“A plan to…?”

“Kill Ca’mail’s king.”

Nerys stifled a laugh. “You’re insane,” she hissed.

“Or I’m insane. Kill the R?ll? This isn’t happening.

” What in the name of the Living Gods was happening?

This man accosted her, dragged her into a tent, and suggested she commit treason, all in exchange for getting her out of the camp?

And to kill the gods’ chosen? Why would she ever agree to that? “I can get out on my own.”

“Can you?” the man raised an eyebrow. “It’s dark. You’re far from the women’s section. Lots of opportunity for things to go wrong…”

Unfortunately, he was right. And agreeing with him and getting out of the camp would remove that issue…

she could figure out how to deal with him later.

He said she just had to listen to his plan—not actually do it.

It didn’t seem like he’d go through all this to just trick and kill her—he had no reason to, and despite his cavalier words, she could easily make things difficult for him by attracting attention.

Which meant…damn, he really wanted to kill the R?ll.

“I’m afraid you’re not insane,” the man said after a short pause, “and neither am I. And you don’t have to agree—I just need you to listen . So? What’s your answer?”

“To just listen to you? That’s all I have to do?”

The man nodded. “Yes. But I think once you hear the extent of what I have to say, you’ll agree. To all of it.”

Hardly.

Nerys rushed to collect her thoughts. She wanted to kill Cefin—not the R?ll. Though…she really shouldn’t waste this chance to get away from the army.

Still, Nerys wasn’t going to agree without protest.

“Why would I do anything for you? Your people killed my family.”

The man frowned as he reached for and then tied a scabbard around his waist. “When?”

“Last full moon.” Nerys’s eyes narrowed, evaluating his reaction. “Massacred the entire village. Raven’s Crest. Or have you slaughtered so many you can’t remember?”

“In Ca’mail?” The man raised an eyebrow. “Where is this village?”

“Near the border. Not far from where the two rivers meet.”

“Impossible.”

“And how would you know? ”

“Cerdoran doesn’t move without my knowing. And we don’t massacre citizens.”

Nerys shifted. “You lie.”

The man sighed. “It wasn’t Cerdoran that killed your family—it was your king.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Where R?ll Abnar is concerned, little is impossible.” He met her gaze and held it unflinchingly. “I know you have no reason to trust me yet, but I swear to you, it was not Cerdoran.”

Liar. The R?ll was their kingdom’s divinely appointed ruler—Scion of Ca’mail the Consumed, Blessed Above All, and so on—he’d never harm them.

Doing so would’ve been against his divine mandate from the Living Gods.

Then again…Cefin had betrayed her—men didn’t necessarily do what they had promised.

And the R?ll was a man, for all that some thought otherwise.

She needed to think.

Nerys clenched her hands as she recalled her earlier suspicions from the massacre.

Was it possible that what he said was true?

The bodies. The strange positioning. Someone didn’t just want them dead, they wanted them dead in a very specific manner, like something out of a tale involving virgins fed to demons and fairies.

23 Bandits weren’t that organized. And what bandits or soldiers slaughtered a town and yet left something as valuable as her father’s sword in plain sight? 24 … Could it have been the R?ll?

No. That made no sense. Why would he destroy her village? Slaughter his own people? Gut her sister like…

The man was lying to her. He had to be. She examined his expression, looking for any sign of a lie—and found none. A nagging feeling settled in her stomach.

“Why would our soldiers do that?” Nerys asked in a whisper.

“Lying is not the way to get me to help you.” She may have given up on finding and killing Cefin—for now—but that didn’t mean she was ready to join forces with this stranger.

He could kill her just as well as anyone else.

Though at least he wouldn’t roast her. Maybe .

The man tied on his cloak, another step towards actually leaving.

“I’m not lying. Since believing me seems to be beyond you for now,” the man said while he re-tied his boots, “let’s divide your dilemma into parts.

In the short term, I think you know that coming with me is the only way you’re getting out of here alive. ”

Nerys snorted. “I never expected to leave.”

The man nodded. “I guessed as much—not too many women are quite so...obliviously reckless as you.” He motioned to her father’s knife. “And armed. So, what brought you here? Revenge? Sabotage? Jilted lover? Family troubles?”

Nerys narrowed her eyes and tucked the cloak over her dagger. “That’s none of your business.”

“Ah, yes, your favorite answer.” The man smirked. “No matter. But before I save your life, you were born in Ca’mail, right?”

“Yes. Why does that matter?”

“We need a Ca’mailian for our plan.”

“You said that. Why? What plan?” She looked him over. “Killing the R?ll?” She scoffed. “You seem to be doing fine on your own—why do you need me?” If the man hadn’t revealed himself, she wouldn’t have ever guessed that he was anything other than a loyal Ca’mailian soldier.

The man seemed unfazed. “Of course—I’m always fine. But even so, we need someone who will appear to be Ca’mailian. No matter who is looking.”

Nerys smiled. “Ah—I get it. You’re wondering if I have the stone eyes.

” That made sense. Anyone born in Ca’mail had the ability to summon the eyes of stone, no matter their parents’ heritage.

The same thing happened in the other kingdoms—if Nerys’s child was born within Pelia’s current boundaries, for example, her child would have eyes of blood.

The man smiled. “Show me? Just to make sure.” How was he able to make that sound so seductive? Especially since the rest of him…wasn’t. To Nerys, it was like a goat was somehow able to roar like a lion.

“Why?” Nerys prodded. “If I don’t have them, are you going to reveal me?”

“No. I’m not a complete ass. But I won’t help you leave. Not worth the risk to me.”

“I see.” Nerys sighed. “I don’t have the sight—just the stone eyes.”

“I expected as much—if you did, you’d be at Vaulpri, not here.

” True—Sight Bearers were taken to the capital as soon as their gift awakened.

The man’s posture relaxed and he gave her a friendly smile.

“I just need you to have the eyes—proof of Ca’mailian birth that won’t disappear under closer inspection. ”

“Sight Bearers can see through your Cerdorani illusions?”

The man shifted on his feet. “Yes.”

Nerys paused. He wasn’t going to move without a demonstration.

“Fine.” Nerys looked at him, and with little more than the desire, made her eyes change to cloudy white crystal with inclusions that reflected every color.

Only a small darkening where her iris had been hinted that these were, in fact, still her eyes.

“What does it feel like?” the man asked, curious. For all that her eyes were now stone, they revealed nothing to her other than the normal world. She looked like a magical creature—and had no magic.

“What sort of question is that?”

“Call me curious.”

How could she explain it? “It’s like my eyes are stiffening. I can feel they changed texture. They get heavier.”

“They’re indistinguishable from stone.” 25

Nerys nodded. What was she supposed to say to that? They were called “eyes of stone” for a reason.

“So much wasted power,” the man mused. “Too bad that all the kingdoms’ magic has weakened over time. We all used to have the power of gods.”

“Why do you say that?”

The man moved to adjust his pack, which laid against a mat.

Apparently, he was close to being ready to leave.

“The five kingdoms could have stretched our borders and conquered more lands outside of this penninsula. Together. Instead, we are doomed to constantly fight each other. A shame to waste such gifts.”

A shame? Was it really? The man was right, the kingdoms have always fought, and when the gifts were numerous, the wars were worse, if such a thing was possible.

Pelia used to have the resources to raise entire undead armies.

Cerdoran had the strength to make people see and fight soldiers who weren’t there, often tricking men into slaying their own.

Jelia had the ability to drive kingdoms mad with dreams and no secrets were safe.

Ca’mail had a population which simultaneously lived on two planes and recruited allies on both.

And Rastiel had enough resources to use its healers and their tricks over the body to kill.

The people may have lost their connection to the gods over time—and maybe it was for the best, no matter what the devout said.

As a result, most in the kingdoms were left with a vanity display, something used to tease children, and nothing more.

“Fine,” Nerys said. “I’ll listen to your proposal. After you get me out of here.”

“That settles that,” the man said, clapping his hands together. “It’s your lucky day—you get to live to tomorrow, and beyond that. And besides, once we are out of here, I have a much better deal to make with you. One you won’t want to refuse.”

“I don’t want to kill the R?ll. I’ll listen to you—but that’s it.”

The man shrugged and sat on one of the room’s rickety stools.

“Trust me, I know better than to expect that you’ll do this without getting something in return—it’s dangerous, treason, and technically heresy.

But I have proof that the R?ll is the one you want dead.

I will be delivering the proof to you over time, but trust that I know better than to dispatch an amateur assassin who doesn’t believe in the cause. ”

Nerys let her eyes change back, her eyes lightening in her head.

What sort of proof was he talking about?

Though, she could think of it as that one way or another, the R?ll was responsible for her family’s death.

For Adillette’s. Either the R?ll gave orders that the military was to withdraw from Raven’s Crest and leave them exposed, or the R?ll ordered the massacre himself—and if that was the case, Nerys would gladly peel his skin off like a shell from a hardboiled egg.

Should she pass up the chance to kill what might be her true target?

She could at least hear what this man had to say.

“You make many claims,” Nerys said, “but I haven't agreed to help you.”

He flicked his wrist. “Yet.”

Yup—she’d had enough of this man.

And she didn’t have a choice but to go along with him. He was delusional and arrogant, but if anyone could get her out of an army camp at night, it was a Cerdorani spy. And if anyone did have information about a R?ll who slaughtered his own citizens, why, that would also be a Cerdorani spy.

“Fine,” she said, resigning herself to his plans.

Who cared about a “better offer”? She’d agree to whatever he wanted for now, and unless he had some amazing story, she’d just escape him once he got her out of the camp—long before she turned into an assassin.

Nerys the wool felter, the pie burner, and outdoors hater—an assassin of the R?ll?

The idea was laughable. Assassin of Cefin? Sure. But the R?ll ?

“Now,” Nerys said, eyes narrowing, “how exactly do you plan on getting us out of here?”