Oracle (Book 5) by Ben Cassidy Page A

fool I was I swam back to the rocks.” He reached over and gave his nearby mule a pat on the flank. “So I’m still here. Eru won’t let me die. It’s His curse on me, my never-ending penance. I can’t atone for my past sins even with death, it seems.”
    Tomas stared at the breakwater across the harbor. From where he stood he couldn’t see the carcass of the flying beast. “That sounds like some rather…creative theology.”
    “I’ve had a lot of time to think it over,” Kendril said. He lifted his bread. “So why are you here, Tomas?”
    Tomas risked taking a step closer. “Looking for you, actually. The Order hasn’t heard from you in a while.”
    Kendril smirked. “I didn’t know anyone was particularly worried about me. There’s a Despair on, you know.”
    Tomas stepped up the two short stairs to the upper level where Kendril was sitting. “That’s one of the reasons why Olan sent me after you. Things are rough out there. Rothland is burning to the ground.”
    Kendril lifted his eyes up. They glimmered darkly. “Olan, huh?”
    Tomas tried one of his best smiles. “Yes, Olan. He’s a full commander now, you know.”
    Kendril turned his face away as if he had been stabbed.
    Tomas grabbed a chair and turned it around. “Look, Kendril, I know Madris gave you a long leash. She let you work on your own, check in when it suited you.” He sat down, across the table from Kendril. “But things are different now. Madris is dead, and Olan is in charge of the whole northern operation. He doesn’t like people running off on their own with no supervision.”
    Kendril took another swig of his beer. “You mean he doesn’t like me .”
    Tomas sat back in the chair. “He doesn’t trust you, no. I know the two of you have history.”
    Kendril snorted. He glanced over at the mule. “I told you to lay off on the beer, Simon.”
    Simon stuck his head back out of the bucket and brayed angrily. He stuck his muzzle back in, noisily slopping the amber liquid.
    Kendril narrowed his eyes. “Don’t give me that. Just because I poured it for you doesn’t mean you have to drink it. Especially on an empty stomach.”
    Tomas glanced quizzically over at the animal.
    Kendril turned his attention back to his own beer and bread. “So Olan sent you here to spy on me?”
    Tomas thought for a moment. “Yes.”
    Kendril scowled. “You had to take a vow not to lie, didn’t you? I think I’d like it better if you obfuscated every so often. To spare feelings, if nothing else.”
    A shadow passed over Tomas’ face. “I’ve told enough lies in my life.” He smiled grimly. “Besides, it’s always better not to ask questions if you don’t expect honest answers, isn’t it?”
    Kendril grunted. “Depends.” He took a great bite out of his bread, washing it down with a hearty chug of the ale. “So you’re Olan’s minion. Nice to know some things haven’t changed. Does he want me to come running back to Santaren?”
    Tomas cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose that depends. Of course, Olan’s instructions were quite specific.” He lowered his voice. “Look, Kendril, the last thing you told anyone was that you were chasing down a lead. That witch from Vorten—”
    Kendril’s eyes hardened. “Bronwyn.”
    Tomas nodded. “Bronwyn. Olan thinks going after her is a wild goose chase.”
    Kendril stabbed his knife miserably into the bread on the table. “Olan wouldn’t know a goose if it bit him on the behind, wild or not.”
    Tomas managed not to smile. “Do you really think Bronwyn is worth chasing down? That’s she’s worth all this effort and trouble?”
    Kendril went for the beer again. “Doesn’t really matter, does it? I’ve lost her either way.” He took another hearty drink. “Last one who saw her was some crazy cultist on that ship out on the breakwater, the one that burned last night. And he’s not talking anytime soon.”
    Tomas rubbed his chin. “Sounds like you’ve given up on finding