Page 163 of Paladin's Faith

“I shall do my best to lie low,” said Marguerite.

Fenella rose to her feet. “They will not learn your whereabouts from me, at least,” she said. “I have never been particularly interested in revenge. In fact…I don’t suppose you’d be interested in working for me?”

Shane made an incredulous sound. Marguerite chuckled. “Your organization could not protect me against itself when it was at the height of its power. I fear I can’t trust that it will do so in its death throes.”

“No, quite right,” Fenella said. She draped her shawl more comfortably. “But if things proceed as I suspect they will, there is an excellent chance that I will not be working for the Sail much longer myself. And should that day come to pass…well. One always has need of extremely talented people.”

Marguerite rose as well and bowed to her. “If that day does come to pass, then I would be happy to revisit this conversation.”

“Then I hope that we shall find ourselves speaking again, Mistress Florian.” Fenella ambled toward the entryway, found the acolyte, and tucked her arm through his. “Thank you for the tea, young man. Now, if you can show me how to get out of this great maze of a temple, I shall be eternally grateful…”

The acolyte cast a long-suffering glance back at Shane and Marguerite, and suffered himself to lead the clearly dotty older woman away. Marguerite rocked back on her heels and let out a long sigh.

“After all that—after everything—she offered you a job?” Shane raked his hands through his hair. “And actually thought you might take it?”

“I might,” said Marguerite. “In a few years, anyway, depending on how things fall out.”

“But she tried to kill you!”

“Yes, and the Dreaming God’s people tried to kill you,” Marguerite pointed out. “You forgave them.”

His eyebrows drew together. “That’s different.”

Marguerite just looked at him.

“…I’m pretty sure it’s different?”

“I’m not, but never mind. That’s all a long way off, if ever.” She scowled. “Besides, I’ll need something to do after I fix the Dreaming God’s intelligence network.”

“Are you going to do that, then?”

“Oh, you laugh, but I might. If only so it doesn’t cause me physical pain whenever I hear about it.” Despite her tone, a knot was forming in her stomach. “Of course, now I really do have to lie low for a year or so.”

And I don’t expect you to come with me. Why would he? Shane had his god now. Even if he wanted to stay with her, the obligations of a demonslayer undoubtedly took precedence over one small spy with a price on her head.

Marguerite had always known this moment would come, but she had hoped to have a little more time. She stared at the flowers on the edge of the courtyard so that she would not have to look at his face.

It’s fine.

No, it’s not fine, but I’ll deal with it anyway. He wants to do good more than anyone I’ve ever met, and I have to let him. Trying to keep him with me instead of off fighting demons would be like asking a working dog to be a lap dog instead.

The thought made a yawning chasm open up in her guts. She had been avoiding it for weeks now, but it seemed that she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Doing the right thing for someone else’s good. How very noble of me. Almost paladinly. Shit.

“All right,” Shane said. “Where are we going?”

“I haven’t—wait, we?”

He looked down at her, clearly baffled. “Yes, of course. Did you think I wouldn’t come with you?”

“I thought…” Marguerite swallowed. The knot in her stomach seemed to have changed and become a lump in her throat. “I didn’t think you’d want to come with me.”

He made an impatient gesture. “Where you go, I go.”

“Are you sure?”

“If the Sail is still going to try to kill you, you’ll need a bodyguard.”