“Leon. He can’t be what you want him to be.” She turns around, leaning back against the railing and meeting my gaze. I cross my arms, confused and a touch defensive by this unsolicited advice.
“And what is that?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Someone who can give you romance. Someone who can give youmore. I’ve known him for a long time, and he’s a soldier, through and through. The mission always comes first. The rush of the fight and heat of battle is in his blood. He doesn’t know how to do anything else.”
“Who says I want him to?” I don’t know why I’m so riled by her words. It’s not as if I’m planning a future with Leon. We all know we’ll be parting ways soon. What do I care if he can’t give me more? I never asked for more from him, did I?
She tilts her head, her face still calm. “I’m just saying you should be careful. Manage your expectations.”
“Right, thanks for the tip,” I say, unable to keep the hint of sarcasm from my voice.
The cool air blows through me, nipping at my bones, and I decide I’m done with the fresh air and Damia’s intrusive words of wisdom. I turn to retreat back below, passing Moss and the woman with gold teeth as I go. I catch a shred of their conversation—and a word that makes my heart jump in my chest.
Otscold.
I turn abruptly, wondering if I misheard.
“Did you say Otscold?” I ask. It’s clear I’ve startled them, but since we boarded Moss has been eager to stay on our good side, so he rushes to answer.
“Yes. Most of Deerfell’s buzzing about it.”
Maybe gossip has finally spread that the missing princess once lived there. Maybe there are rumors about Gallawing Manor being the scene of a grisly murder. But Moss’s face tells me it’s something worse.
“What are they saying?” I ask, fear already creeping up on me.
“They say the cleavers are headed there. There’s going to be a purge.”
My blood turns to ice in my veins.
“That can’t be true,” I say. Purges are only meant to happen to places with too many heretics. A tiny village like Otscold hardly produces one true heretic a decade. Certainly not enough to warrant a mass execution.
Moss shrugs. “It’s true. The port manager’s clerk had a word with the captain on the sly. There’s always money to be had in smuggling folks out when a purge comes to town, but he decided it wasn’t worth it.”
“Not worth it?” I choke out. “How could it not be worth it to save innocent people from murder?”
The woman looks unsympathetic. “We’ve already got enough human cargo,” she says. “Besides, there’s too much risk on a job like this. It’s not just a hoard of cleavers descending on that place, they’ve got a member of the Scarlet Order too.”
“Bearer Sophos, the rumors say,” Moss adds, sounding awed.
I don’t know anything about this Sophos, but the bearers who make up the Scarlet Order are the highest level of clerics in the Temple of Ethira, second only to the Grand Bearer himself. To send a bearer for a purge would suggest that the community had committed a truly heinous crime or was on the verge of collapsing into total debauchery.
It makes no sense. Even with the fear of a purge always hanging over our heads, no one I knew in Otscoldactuallyexpected one. It’s the harshest punishment of the Temple, a ruthless, bloody cleansing that targets everyone in a community who has just come of age.
There’s supposed to be a kind of logic to it. The Temple says heretical beliefs are usually spread by the youth of a community, and removing those just coming into adulthood sends a message to both the parents and children of a town: the gods will not show mercy to those who defy them.
There’s no trial. No chance to plead your case. No one to listen—or care—if you protest that you’ve never missed a prayer time or a holy day ritual in your life. In a few days, everyone aged between nineteen and twenty-one in Otscold will line up and prepare to be sent to the Eternal Realm or the Gloamlands, depending on how clean their souls are.
Everyone, including Tira.
Chapter27
Morgana
“We have to go to Otscold. We have to save them.”
I ran to find Leon right away. Finding him in his cabin, I told him about the purge.
“If it’s common knowledge that the purge is coming, why don’t the young people simply leave before the cleavers arrive? Can’t they go into hiding?” he asks.
