Italy records 60 new coronavirus deaths, 178 new cases Trump cuts $25 million in aid for Palestinians in East Jerusalem hospitals

Please, Gran. I sigh. I’m not in the mood right now. I flop back against the sofa, covering my face with my hands. And you don’t know the full story, so you can’t pass comment on it.

And why do you hold broken glass in the other?So men remember that I am always watching.

And this, Merik murmured to himself, is who that woman mistook me for. This was the monster she had seen when she’d looked upon him.He turned to the Fury’s empty urn. Always empty, for no one wished to accidentally attract his eye, lest they too be judged.Outside the temple, the storm finally broke. Rain clattered down, loud enough for Merik to hear. Yet when he glanced back toward the columns, expecting to find people rushing in for shelter, he found only a single figure loping inside. She dripped water to the flagstones with each of her long steps.

Dried lamb? she called once she was close enough. Her voice echoed off the granite flagstones. Like Merik, she wore a hooded tan coat atop her beige shirt and black trousers—all of it homespun, all of it filthy. The meat’s not too wet.Merik forced himself to summon a glare. To scold: What have I said about stealing?

Does that mean, she began, her black eyes glittering with lamp-lit mischief, that you don’t want it? I can always save it for myself, you know.

Merik wrested it from her grip. Hunger, he had learned, beat morality every time.When Merik didn’t move, Cam just heaved him forward two paces. A loud thump shook through the room, and power frizzed behind Merik as the lock-spell resumed.

Ignite? There was a question in Cam’s tone, as if she hoped the lamps looping over the low beams were Firewitched. They were, and at the voiced command, they brightened to life, revealing a dining area to the left.Books were strewn across every surface. Each cover a different color or a different animal hide, and each spine with a different title stamped into it. Books in the cupboard, books on the table, books stacked on three mismatched chairs.

One chair for Kullen. One chair for Merik. And one chair, the newest of the three, for Kullen’s Heart-Thread.Ryber. Merik’s chest tightened at that name—at the beautiful black face it conjured. She had vanished after Kullen’s death, leaving Merik with nothing but a note. While it was true that Merik had never grown close to her, never quite understood what she and Kullen shared, he would’ve welcomed having Ryber with him now. At least then one other person might understand what he was feeling.