“What did you say?”
“You made one mistake—if not for that, you may have had another seven days to spare.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You brought Willone, Saint of Salt, into this. That was your mistake.”
Mora’s legs suddenly felt unsteady beneath her. Willone’s face and her hearty smile came to her mind. It couldn’t be. Impossible. Willone would never betray me. She never denied those in need, never condoned any wickedness or unfairness. She was a close friend, one Mora had known for a very long time, and she had been fond of Shenira. Mora had chosen her because she had trusted her most of all the Saints.
“Willone hasn’t done anything wrong,” said Tgurneu. “She’s a truly praiseworthy human. But you know, she is a little dim.” Suddenly, it pulled from the mouth on its chest a charcoal pen and a piece of wood. “I showed you this once, didn’t I? I can forge any sample of handwriting, just having seen it once. I think I deserve a compliment for that. I practiced that skill diligently every single day over the course of fifty years.”
Mora remembered—three years previously, Tgurneu had sent her a letter written in the handwriting of Torleau, Saint of Medicine.
“I sent a letter to Willone in your handwriting,” continued Tgurneu. “The letter surely reached her some time ago. Simply put, it said this:
Dear Willone,
Show this letter to no one. Once you have read this letter, burn it forthwith. Ganna is a soft-hearted man. If he were shown this letter, he might go mad.”
As the fiend spoke, it transcribed the words on the wood scrap. It was very clearly Mora’s handwriting. Mora herself might have mistaken it for her own.
“Tgurneu has deceived me. It may no longer be possible to save Shenira. Fifteen days after the Evil God’s awakening, the parasite in her chest will excrete a particular poison. When that poison takes effect, Shenira will be transformed, still alive, into a fiend. Once that happens, any attempt to kill her will be in vain, and it will be physically impossible for her to die. It would be a living hell for her. Tgurneu swore to me that Shenira would not be attacked. But to Tgurneu, that is no attack, but rather a grand act of benevolence, granting her rebirth as a noble fiend.”
Tgurneu tossed away the scrap of wood, but continued speaking.
“Even Torleau cannot save her. She would, doubtless, not even be capable of grasping that such poison has entered her system. I swear I will kill Tgurneu before fifteen days have passed after the awakening. But if that cannot be…”
“You…vile…” Mora’s legs trembled.
“Once midnight on the fifteenth day has passed, if the mark on Shenira’s chest yet remains, kill her.”
Tgurneu raised both hands up high like a melodramatic actor. “What do you think of that? Not bad, huh? The letter then goes on about how sorry you are and how much you loved Shenira, but I’ll spare you that.” With a cruel smile, it continued, “If your husband were to see this letter, he might realize that it’s a forgery. But would Willone ignore the first line? I’m sorry, but Willone Court is rather simple, and she’s loyal and honest. I doubt she will realize this letter is a fake, and I believe she will follow your orders. Of course, Willone or your husband might figure out the letter is a counterfeit, or even if they don’t, they might hesitate to kill Shenira. But this is enough to threaten you, isn’t it?”
Tgurneu had promised that it wouldn’t lie to Mora. The fiend really had sent that letter. “What I promised to you is that I would not lie to you,” Tgurneu emphasized. “I can lie to Willone. And I promised that no fiend would touch Shenira. But a human killing her wouldn’t be in violation of my oath.”
Mora was speechless. She was seeing it all in her head. Willone reading the letter and agonizing over it. Shenira cheerfully awaiting Mora’s return. Willone’s hand on her daughter.
“Incidentally, I’ll let you know that the traitor is the clerk you hired five years ago, Kiannan. He was easily bought and told me a variety of things. He even helped me implant the parasite in your girl. He didn’t realize his employer was a fiend until the moment before he went down my throat. Well, not that anyone cares about that.”
Mora couldn’t even hear him.
“You’re a bit of a simpleton, but you must have grasped what’s going on by now,” continued Tgurneu. “You have only two more days, and in order to save your daughter, you have no choice but to kill one of the Braves of the Six Flowers.”
“Tgurneu…”
“I’ll say it one more time. Trying to kill me is futile. I have a plan—a plan to escape your barrier, and I’m gradually nearing success.”
Mora looked to the east for Adlet. Come back soon, she pleaded silently.
“How was it, Addy?” Rolonia called down.
Adlet didn’t reply as he intently focused on the ground and the walls. The cellar was red all over from the solution that reacted to evidence of fiends. When this substance came in contact with an object, any part that had been touched by a fiend would change color, and each fiend would make it turn a different color. Adlet sprayed the solution on his own armor to compare. The places Tgurneu had touched became a dark red.
The boy covered the cellar with the solution. There were more traces here than he could count, but they all turned the same color, the same dark red. There had been no other fiend but Tgurneu in this hole. Adlet investigated the tunnels, too but got the same results. “The only fiend that was here…was Tgurneu.”
“So does that mean a Saint is cooperating with Tgurneu?” Rolonia supposed. However, that couldn’t be right. Adlet had meticulously searched the floor
