Seren snatched up her ruined meal and looked at the paladin with a frown. “What do you want?” she asked. “I thought you left.”
“Did you kill Jamus Roland?” she asked bluntly.
Eraina’s eyes, so dark they were almost black, bored directly into her soul. She sensed anger, pain, and something more, a sense of a power Seren had never felt before. It felt almost as if she were being judged by Boldrei herself.
“How do you know Jamus?” Seren asked, unable to keep a quaver of fear out from her voice.
“Just answer the question. Yes or no.”
“No,” she said, a hint of outrage in her answer. “Jamus was my teacher. He was my friend.”
Eraina’s brows furrowed quizzically. She looked disappointed by Seren’s answer, but she nodded in acquiescence. “Just a thief, then,” she said in a sad voice. “You have no idea what you have become involved in.”
“Then why don’t you explain it to me? How does a Sentinel Marshal know Jamus Roland? He was just a thief too.”
“He was not just a thief,” Eraina said. “He was my father.”
“Oh,” Seren said, eyes widening. “I thought you were a member of House Deneith.”
“I am,” she said. “My mother’s husband was disgraced when he learned the truth. If my mother’s dragonmark had not bred true, I might have been given to an orphanage. Instead I was raised and educated by the church.” She looked at Seren calmly. “Does it truly surprise you that Jamus Roland would have an affair with another man’s wife?”
“Not really,” Seren answered, “but why are you telling me this? I’m a stranger to you.”
“Raised as a Spear of Boldrei, I have taken many vows,” Eraina said. “A vow of charity, a vow of mercy, a vow of humility, and a vow of honesty. Do you understand these things?”
Seren nodded.
“Then also understand that our vow of honesty is the most difficult of all, as well as the most important,” she said. “For we can neither lie nor promote falsehood. The fact that Jamus never told you who I was is disturbing, for he broke into Dalan d’Cannith’s home on my behalf. He died trying to help me, Seren.”
“A paladin hiring thieves?” Seren asked.
“I didn’t know what he planned, and he knew better than to tell me,” Eraina said. “My father has always been a foolish man. For almost a year now I have been hunting the murderer of Bishop Llaine Grove. I was to meet Jamus on the night he died. I traveled all the way from Fairhaven on the promise that he would have the name of the killer I sought. I suppose I should not be surprised that he died. My father was not adept at keeping promises.”
“He never told me any of that,” she said.
“And now you understand why Boldrei values honesty,” Eraina said. “I have wasted a great deal of time chasing you, Seren, thinking that you were responsible for my father’s death. Now I know the real killer was on that Cyran ship. Those same mercenaries were probably responsible for Llaine Grove’s death as well.”
Eraina looked at Seren for a long time, not speaking. Seren had the uneasy sense that the goddess was judging her through those eyes again. She wanted to move away, but could not bring herself to do so.
“The truth, at least, is a relief,” Eraina said. “Father spoke highly of you in his letters. I wonder if, in some measure, by caring for you he hoped to atone for my unwanted and neglected existence. My father was a strange man.”
“Looks like that bred true, too,” Seren said.
“And you have adopted my father’s intolerable sense of humor,” she retorted. “Jamus obviously saw some value in you, so I give you this final warning. Do not return to Karia Naille. I intend to stop Dalan d’Cannith and his allies. It would be best if you did not oppose me.”
“Stop them?” Seren asked. “Why? They’re hunting the same killer you are.”
“No,” Eraina said. “They merely seek the same thing he seeks, and their greed will only cloud my path. Dalan d’Cannith is a ruthless, ambitious man. I do not doubt he knows more about the Cyrans than he admits, and I will not abide his dishonesty.”
“So you want me to abandon my friends and run away in a strange city?” Seren asked. “What sort of paladin are you?”
“Your faithfulness is admirable, but you do them no favors by letting them pursue petty ambitions,” Eraina said. “Do not fear that I would cast you out alone here as Dalan did to me. I have allies in this city. I can give you gold enough to return to Wroat, or even Ringbriar. I could offer you the protection of the Sovereign Host. You could find a new life in the Church if you wished, Seren. My mercy is a sincere mercy, not a Cannith’s false promises.”
Seren looked past Eraina, at the crowds of happy citizens living their normal lives. Beyond them, she saw the sky towers standing tall above the skyline. Two rings of green fire burnt with a steady light, holding the Brelish warships aloft. Between them burnt a smaller ring-blue, crackling with red.
“Think about it, Seren,” Eraina said.
Seren walked away. She felt the paladin’s eyes watch her for a long time afterward.
Seren went about her business, picking up Tristam’s supplies. She dropped them off on the ship without a word, drawing confused looks from Pherris and Tristam as she went back into the city. For a while, she explored. Would it really be so bad to stay here? Was this such a horrible place?
She looked up at the ring of fire above the walls again, now burning a steady blue. This would be a safe place to live, but no one needed her here. If she were to find a home, it would not be here. After wandering aimlessly for a while, Seren made her way back to the sky tower. She boarded the ship as wordlessly as she had left. Gunther trotted to her feet and rolled over on one side, waiting to be petted. Pherris greeted her with an exhausted smile, which quickly changed to a look of concern as he looked past her toward the tower.
“Are the repairs done, Tristam?” Pherris asked.
“Just touching up the paint now,” Tristam said from the ladder. “Why?”
“I’ve a feeling we’ll be leaving soon,” the captain said.
Seren looked up from petting the dog. A dozen Brelish soldiers marched out of the tower door, with Eraina at their head. She looked at Seren with a disappointed shake of her head and turned to face Pherris.
“Captain Gerriman,” Eraina said in a bold voice. “As a Sentinel Marshal of House Deneith, and with the aid and alliance of the Brelish Crown, I regret that I must impound your vessel and take your crew into custody.”
“On what charges?” Pherris asked stiffly.
“You are not being charged with anything,” she said, her tone now clipped and formal. “However, I believe that several members of your crew are withholding information pertinent to an international murder investigation. As a Sentinel Marshal, I have invoked my jurisdiction and enlisted these local officials to assist me. Please do not resist.”
Seren stood up slowly beside Pherris. Tristam dropped down from his ladder, tucking his tools back into his bandolier. Gerith poked his head up from below deck and quickly disappeared again. Zed, sharpening his sword as he sat on a nearby barrel, set his whetstone aside and sheathed the weapon across his back. Omax stood beside Tristam calmly, waiting for any command.
“Come out, d’Cannith,” Eraina shouted.
The cabin door opened and Dalan stepped out. He held a breadstick treat in one hand, chewing absently. He looked at Eraina and her soldiers without concern. “Good afternoon, officers,” he said. “May I help you?”
“You heard me,” she said. “Order your crew to stand down and surrender.”
Dalan bit the last scrap of bread from the stick, tossed it in a pail nearby, wiped his hands on his jacket and took a scroll case from his pocket. He looked past Eraina at the soldiers with a bland expression. “Which of you is the commanding officer?” he asked.
“I am,” one said, stepping forward.
Dalan offered the man the scroll. He stepped forward and accepted it, looking at Eraina in confusion. Removing it from its case, he studied the parchment for several moments, rolled it up, and handed it back.