Raeve seems to weigh it up, mutters a curt “fuck it,” then digs through the deep pockets of his cloak, finding three more flasks she condemns to a misty grave. Releasing a sigh, she shuffles back against the edge and gets back to dancing her blade.
“Interesting, that one.”
At Noeve’s voice, I turn forward, my gaze chasing the gnarly path that cuts through a sea of white. “Raeve?” I ask, flicking up my hood against the bitter chill, shuffling deeper into the cushioned seat that’s a welcomed, albeit unexpected luxury.
Noeve nods. Sucks another breath through her smoke stick. “Interesting name, too.”
My heart stills.
She looks sidelong at me, a gray brow arching up her heavily creased forehead, her next words much quieter than I’m used to her speaking. “She looks like a certain someone Ialsoescorted along this path around fifty cycles ago. Someone with long white hair, much like her late grandmah.” With a tilt of her head, she says, “A coincidence, perhaps?”
I stare at her for a long while before I turn my attention forward again, cross my arms, and clear my throat. “A coincidence, yes.”
Noeve hums, then draws another sizzling puff.
My lips tighten. “You see much.”
“When you’ve been around as long as I have,seeingis what one does best.”
“On that note …” I glance back to check Pyrok is still sleeping. “Any news on Dothea? I sent her a lark over thirty cycles ago. Haven’t heard back, though I know the Mists are causing problems.”
Noeve seems to hesitate, then shakes her head, keeping her voice low. “I was smuggling folk clear of the city for the queen, but our line of communication sputtered.”
“Damn.”
Another dip of her head before she draws deep and slashes me with a smile. “Onto brighter notes, did you take a good look at my new cushions?” She winks, slapping her hand on the vacant one wedged between us. “Made from raffi fibers all the way from the north. They cost me a pretty fortune.”
“Well spent. Never thought I’d see the cycle this cart would be privy to such luxuries.”
Another raise of her brow as she looks at me from the creased corner of her eye. “It wasVeya’ssuggestion, purchased with the takings from her last crossing.”
My heartbeat thunders at the mention of my sister. “You’ve seen her since I passed through last?”
“A little over thirty cycles ago.”
She must’ve stopped by Gore on her way to Arithia …
“Did she say where she was going?”
“To see the velvet trogg.”
I still. Pretty sure I hear Raeve choke on a breath, probably listening.
“Did she … return?”
A single nod has never struck so hard. “Seeming rather pleased with herself. And boasting a silver bangle she wasn’t wearing prior.”
Suspicion mounts behind my ribs like bulging lava. “Did it have jewels on it?”
Noeve’s eyes glint. “Indeed. And a rather unnerving aura.”
“That lying little—” I cut myself off, shaking my head as I snatch a parchment lark diving toward me.
I open it, checking for Veya’s script. Seeing that it’snothers only riles me more.
She told me she got rid of that damn bangle, then told me she lied. No doubt reluctant to mention she disposed of it down the trash chute in Gore, knowing full well I would’ve forbidden her from retrieving it.
For good reason.
