Treacherous Witch

20. The Spoils of Empire

"If you ever make an enemy of a High Priestess, don't touch her. She may turn you into a frog or worse."
Interview with Queen Shikra III, as told to Master Anwen

Lord Avon noticed her distraction on the journey back. They'd retired to the cabin as the sun set, but she couldn't sit still. She tried to read a book and failed, then she stared out of the tiny port window and saw nothing but choppy waves, then she tried to eat, but she'd lost her appetite.

He poured himself a glass of wine and gestured to the empty seat opposite him. "Sit. Are you quite well? You seem out of sorts."

She sat and fiddled with her hands in her lap. "I'm fine, my lord." Then she hesitated. She was supposed to be a spy. When she hadn't been preoccupied by the mystery of the strange woman and the silvertree graveyard, she'd been thinking about Prince Bakra's message. If she wanted to get close to Avon, she had to let him in. "I..."

He leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table. "What is it?"

"Lord Dryden said something strange to me while we were in Enyr," she said, dredging up the memory that had seemed so significant at the time but had paled in comparison to everything after. "He... he didn't want me to perform this magic for you."

"Didn't he," Avon murmured. "Did he say anything else?"

"He seemed to misunderstand the situation," she said carefully. "I think he believed that I'd convinced you to open the temple, like it was some kind of nefarious trick."

"Does he believe you're a wicked witch out to seduce me?"

She was so surprised she laughed. "That's... very close to what he said, yes."

Avon smiled. "Dryden said something similar to me. Fortunately, we both know better. Did his opinion concern you?"

"He just seemed so against magic."

"Most Drakonians are."

"But not you?"

"Maskamere has benefited from magic for centuries. We Drakonians fear what we cannot control. I intend to change that."

She dug her fingers into her palms. "You want to control magic?"

"As I control you. I believe magic has a place in Maskamere's future. Even the Empire's."

She fell silent, considering that. He meant under the Empire's control. Magic as a resource to be exploited like everything else in Maskamere.

"You could be part of that," Avon went on. "If you chose to serve me, you would never want for anything. You could do your people a lot of good."

"That's not the tempting offer you think it is."

"All right, then." He leaned back in his chair. "Be honest with me, Valerie. Why did you ask for the silvertree's power? What is it that you want?"

"I want to kill you."

"Well, that's a non-starter."

He was being awfully nonchalant about it, as if he didn't even consider her a threat. "It's the truth, my lord."

"It's a waste of your time to cling to a lost cause. When the resistance falls apart, which it will, what do you think will happen then?"

"Who says the resistance will fall apart?"

He waved a hand. "Indulge me."

She sighed, shifting in her chair. It wasn't pleasant to think about what might happen if they failed. If she served the full term of her repentance with Avon, she would be thirty-eight by the time he released her. She couldn't imagine what that would be like. Perhaps she would give in to him, if only to avoid sleeping alone.