Diffraction

Chapter Twelve: Fractured

"Of the presumed first demonstration of the subject's power, witness descriptions differ on several critical details. Yet at the mention of that moment, each gave nonverbal cues indicative of abject fear."

"Julaen Tenegar—the Lord Mayor of Aulivar himself—is funding the raiders," Josephine said yet again, to no one in particular. And I'll keep saying it, she decided, until we come up with a plan to address this new complication.

The cool autumn breeze and beautiful shades of orange and red on both sides of the road should have brought tranquility. But in light of the revelations from the bandit prisoners, Josephine found no peace of mind. She turned to Jahrin as they marched west along the road to Aulivar. "So, brilliant guard captain, how are we supposed to topple the man holding the highest office of the most powerful City-State in the Bordermarches?"

Jahrin's gaze remained fixed on the walls of the City, gleaming white at the horizon in the afternoon sun. He gave no response.

"I mean, we can track down this Kal who leads the bandits, sure," Josephine continued, repeating a case she'd already made. "But if Tenegar is paying these men, killing Kal is hardly a setback. He'll have a new minion in place as soon as we reach the City with the news."

"She has a point," Ellers called out from the driver's seat of a recovered merchant wagon. He gestured with the dark longknife he favored. "Dig up roots once, or weeds all summer long."

Thank you, Josephine thought as she flashed the Mudborn a smile. You're not all as dim-witted as the stories say.

A twinge of dread pricked her mind, and Josephine glanced about. Birds sang in trees on either side of the hardened dirt road as it wound down from the hills surrounding the Snowtips. Cool breezes swept down from the mountains, rustling branches and scattering leaves.

Josephine looked over the small caravan. Kristophe and Lyllithe sat in the lead wagon among the gathered spoils and supplies taken from the bandit camp. The two surviving bandits trudged behind, hands tied together with sturdy ropes attached to the wagon hitch.

Lyllithe watched the two prisoners intently, but Kristophe lounged with a sack of grain for a makeshift pillow. Josephine glared at him. Scarring pampered child.

Two more wagons followed at an easy pace, bearing the seven traders and merchant guards rescued from captivity. And though they expressed frequent thanksgiving, they had nothing in the way of useful information.

All we have to work with is what Jahrin got out of the two prisoners. And with Lyllithe's Mark, at least we know it's the truth.

Not that I'm complaining, Josephine whispered in prayer to Justice, but that sure would have been a useful Gracemark for a Soulforged.

She glanced down at the silver symbol etched onto the back of her right hand, a seven-point star over two arms stretched out horizontally: the Eye of Tsadek—the Divine Aspect of Justice—seeing all that transpired in the world of men, stretching forth His power to bring retribution upon those who did evil.

Each Gracemark provided beneficial functions based on how the user invoked their chosen Aspect of the Divine. Josephine thought of the narrow path of righteousness and pictured a winding cliffside trail. With that inspiration to guide her, she drew upon her Gracebrand, seeking a gift of information otherwise unavailable.