Was it an accidental bleed of divine energy from the artifact itself? Or was there a deeper, invisible current running beneath the surface, one that suggested the game wasn't as simple as a careless mistake, and that someone, or something, had deliberately baited the hook?
The stylus slipped from his fingers, clattering softly against the desk. The cold sweat of paranoia, which he had thought exorcised by the logic of their bargain, began to prickle at his skin once more.
The more Tyrion replayed the scene in his mind, the more a deeply uncomfortable sensation began to knot in his chest. A much more immediate and disturbing question shoved the mystery of the pull aside, Why on earth had he even considered Tide an ally?
