Page 132 of Paladin's Faith

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was the only way.”

“It can’t be,” Marguerite said. “There has to be something we can do. You said you’re not possessed. Then it can’t control you, can it? You can come with us.”

The channel in his chest burned. “I don’t think so. The demon did something. I’m pretty sure trying to double-cross it would be a bad idea.”

Marguerite pinched the bridge of her nose and stalked past him. Davith, who had been very carefully not saying anything, moved toward her, then apparently thought better of it.

“If you’re not possessed,” said Wren slowly, “then why do I still feel the demon in you?”

Shane rubbed his hand across his chest. “You know how it felt when the Saint was in you. That place?”

Wren nodded warily.

“Afterward, it was like a wound. A festering one. Like there was a pressure building up and I was so used to it that I had stopped noticing. And then the demon…I don’t know, lanced it, somehow.”

“And now you’re fine?” asked Wren bitterly. “The demon healed you and everything is wonderful?”

Shane snorted. “God, no. It hurt like the devil. I think I might be bleeding to death. But the pressure, at least, is less.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

“I’m not sure it is. But also…” He swallowed, wondering if another paladin could understand. Wondering if anyone but another paladin could. “I don’t feel hollow anymore.”

The woman he thought of as a little sister sagged. “Oh,” she said, as soft as a dying breath.

“I didn’t know it would do that,” he admitted. “I don’t think the demon knew either. Otherwise it probably would have tried to tempt me with it, instead of threatening.”

“You wouldn’t have listened,” said Wren, with the absolute faith that he probably didn’t deserve.

“No,” said Shane, pressing the heel of his hand hard against his chest. “I probably wouldn’t have.” And hoped that his voice did not express just how tempted he would have been.

It seemed like no time at all until they reached the river. It was shallow enough here that they could splash across it. The two Sail operatives hurried to do so, not looking back, and struck out for the road.

Shane turned to Marguerite and found that she was less than an arm’s length away.

“We’re getting you out,” she said, her voice low and intense. “We aren’t leaving you here. We’ll go straight to the Dreaming God and drag them back here. I swear.”

The Dreaming God’s people will want Wisdom stopped far more than they want me saved. Assuming I’m even still alive when they get here.

“That’s the best thing you can do,” he said.

She grabbed his forearms and stared up at him, as intent as she had been when they made love. Even with the demon burning a hole under his breastbone, the memory still made his mouth go dry. “I’m not going to abandon you,” she said. “Don’t think for a moment that I have.”

He nodded. And then, because he knew he would never get another chance, he said, “I love you.”

And maybe he didn’t have the courage to know how she would answer, because he kissed her rather than hear whatever she said next.

It was both the best and worst kiss of his entire life.

“Please go,” he said, when they finally broke apart. “Because I can’t bear this.”

Marguerite’s face had the blank, set look of a woman trying not to cry. “I will come back for you,” she told him.

Shane nodded, and kissed her forehead, and let her go.

He watched them wade across the river, the three of them, and he turned away after that, so that he would not have to watch them vanish out of sight.

It was the only way to keep her safe. I did what I had to do.