Renegade's Magic
Outrage filled me. “She was nothing of the kind!” I barked. I had never imagined that I would be defending Carsina’s reputation, let alone to her husband. But as I recalled her, I could not keep quiet. “She was a frightened girl, terrified that if you knew she’d been engaged to a man you despised, you’d break your word to her. She was not wise or temperate, but she was certainly not a slut. I knew her since she was a little girl, and I can vouch for that. She’d thought she’d found true love with you.” I’d advanced to the edge of his desk. Now I leaned over it, hands braced on it as I forced the truth on him. Epiny was right. Some people definitely deserved to hear the truth. “Her dying words were spoken of you, with love. She asked me to go and fetch you, because you’d promised you wouldn’t leave her side. Yes, I gave her my bed to lie down on. But I never touched her that night, sir. And when we were engaged, I might have stolen a kiss or two, but certainly no more than that!”
He stared at me in consternation. “But…your brother…” He leaned back in his chair, tipping his head up to lock eyes with me. I stared back, made both fearless and foolish by my anger. “No,” he said, and his voice quavered. “It’s you. It was you. You’re Nevare Burvelle. But…you were…you were—I killed you.” He rose from his desk, nearly knocking his chair over as he scrambled away from me. He held his hands, fingers crooked, out in front of him. They were shaking. “I choked you with these hands. My fingers sank into your fat throat, and you screamed for mercy, even as I imagined that Carsina had screamed. But I gave you no mercy, for you’d had no mercy on her—”
“I never hurt Carsina. And you didn’t kill me,” I said flatly. “That’s a false memory.”
I doubt that he heard a word I’d said. The man was unhinged. “I killed you,” he repeated, staring at me. “I remember that night so clearly. I stood like a man and took a man’s vengeance. But now it’s all changed to shame and dishonor. Because she lied to me. She lied to me.” His eyes lit with a sudden, cruel hope. “But you did those other things, didn’t you? You killed that whore, Fala. You poisoned those men. You still deserved to die!”
“No,” I said quietly. I was edging slowly around the desk, moving toward him. I’d take him down quickly. I didn’t want him to shout for the Sergeant. “I didn’t do those things. And I didn’t deserve to die.”
He looked at me. His breath was coming in little shaking gasps. “How can you be here?” he asked, and his voice broke on the words, going high as a boy’s. “I killed you. How can you be here, so changed from the monster you were?”
His hand betrayed him. It darted toward his coat pocket, as if to protect the hidden keys from me. Then he caught himself and suddenly quiet seemed to flow over him. “No,” he said softly. “No. You aren’t real. This is another dream, isn’t it? Another nightmare.” He pointed an accusing finger at me. “The doctor said the tonic was supposed to stop these nightmares.” He seemed to expect I would vanish.