Chapter Three

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Alisa was still seething by the time she made her way back to the apple stall. Throwing the bag that contained Bren's sweet roll into her brother's lap, she swiped an apple from the closest pile and kicked over an empty barrel before righting it up to have a seat. She took an aggressive bite into the sweet fruity flesh while the overheard conversation about her mother roiled in her memory. She knew her father watched her with an arched brow, but her vision was red with rage.

"I assume you didn't find anything worth spending your gold on?" her father asked as he leaned against the wooden stall, arms crossed as he looked down at her.

She debated ignoring him. She also debated throwing the apple at his face, and probably would have if he was anyone but her father, who she knew would have been able to pin her to the ground in a grappling hold before the apple left her hand. So instead she raised her amber gaze to meet his emerald stare and finished chewing the bite of her apple.

"Why did she stop fighting?"

He knew who she meant. He held her stare, mouth pursed into a solid line of tension. "She didn't stop fighting. She just found something more important to fight for."

"What could be more important than saving the world?"

"Us," Bren chimed in.

"But not when there are demons," Alisa countered.

"There aren't any more demons," her brother insisted. "There haven't been demons since the Rift closed."

"That's not what people here think," Alisa said with a glance. "They're starting to attack the coast and the Parish isn't doing anything about it."

"The Parish is—" Her father sighed and closed his eyes, running his fingers over the bridge of his nose. "They're doing more than the people know, and that's more than enough for this continent, and anyone who can't see that is a fool just to vocalize those thoughts."

"Fools or otherwise, you still didn't answer my question." Alisa stood and tossed the apple core aside. "If demons are attacking, and she knows about it, why isn't she doing something about it?"

"Because your mother has done more than enough."

"That's not a reason."

"It is where she is involved, and that is the end of this discussion."

Alisa let out a frustrated growl. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What have you done?" she snapped.

He seemed taken aback. "I fight, Alisa. I fight every damn day."

"Is that why you have the scar on your neck? From fighting?"

She saw a darkness flash across his eyes, if only for a moment. He looked to Bren and tossed him the coin purse that held the day's earnings. "Watch the stall. I'll be back in a bit."

He didn't look at Alisa as he moved through the center of the market square, but she watched as he rubbed the back of his neck while he walked away.

He didn't look at Alisa as he moved through the center of the market square, but she watched as he rubbed the back of his neck while he walked away

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