LUCY
When Doyle spoke, my first thought was that he was dense not to notice that the game was up—that he was foolish for not considering that the punishment may be lighter on him if he spoke the truth.
I watched his jaw work as he piled lie upon lie, and I realized he knew nothing, or must have forgotten the ratings of the priests from Ashkara and their prowess at extracting information from the unwilling.
I leaned back, my eyes narrowing as I studied the desperate sweat on his brow. And I concluded that it's just as well he's lying, because I wanted him to be punished in every way that was punishable, except death.
Because death was too simple an escape, a mercy he didn't deserve.
As a matter of fact, if that was given as the reward for his evil behavior, I made up my mind to negate it, to speak up and give my own punishment—something slow, something that would make him long for the exile he once caused me.
But then Mina speaks now, and I'm not sure what to think.
