“Where is it?”
“Aksell has it,” he spits out, eager to comply now. “He knew I had business in the Kastali, paid me well to get a satchel one of the maids held and bring it to him.”
“When did you give it to him?”
“Just this morning. It should still be in his house.”
“Anything else I need to know?”
“Nothing. I swear.”
I watch and listen for a moment, testing his words. They ring true, no signs of deception appearing in his eyes or heart rate. “Thanks for your help.” I give him the smirk I’ve been holding back since the hallway as I flick my knife up and smack its hilt against his temple. His head whips to the side, eyes rolling back in his skull, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.
I’ve been doing Bevin’s dirty work for months, walking a thin line the entire time. I risk being exposed if I get too close to powerful people like the Dróttning. But I need information they alone possess if I’m ever going to find my way home. I’ve seen enough hints to convince me that the Dróttning’s libraries hold answers I’ve been seeking for ten years. And I’d risk just about anything to go home again. So I’m relying on my shields, which can hide me from all but the most powerful, and working my way toward the Dróttning’s inner circle. Little by little.
Now I have to get the satchel from Aksell, but reaching him should be easy. He’s even more reckless than this idiot. I’ll go there in the morning, well before the sun rises. He may need a bit more convincing—he’ll know the Dróttning didn’t send me—but he deserves whatever fate may bring him. He’s not a good male.
Although a hungry cat no doubt awaits me, I don’t race home. After stopping by the tavern’s kitchen to grab the bag they have waiting for me, I start walking. My route takes me along the water, and I find a peace here that I sometimes need. Revalle—Vanatia’s biggest town, its stronghold in the south—spreads out around me.
Because the Konungr and Dróttning have a home here, some parts are opulent and picturesque: paved roads lined with manicured shrubs and bushes; large shops and homes painted in bright reds and oranges and yellows; fruit trees that bear succulent, delicious harvests, yet somehow never seem to litter the ground below. Grass and flowers and benches fill parks the wealthy stroll at night.
Those aren’t the places that bring me peace.
My path home takes me through the poorer parts of Revalle. I wander along a shorefront teeming with storehouses and fishing boats. And then the road leads inland, through the homes and shops of the less favored members of this harsh place. They have little and must scramble for all of it, but they find joy in their lives. Their rulers don’t always make it easy. Still, in house after house, I hear the happy chattering of children, unrestrained laughter, and animated conversations.
Here I find the peace I need.
The strength to keep searching for my path home.
Already, the day’s stress is whispering out of my bones, letting go of me for another twelve hours.
I feel the tension fully leave my shoulders when I catch sight of Halla’s long silver hair as she sits on the stairs waiting for me. She’s small for a ten-year-old and wears a dress that’s so threadbare, it’s a wonder it hasn’t fallen apart yet. This one offers no protection from the elements—necessary in the evenings, even in this warm climate—but Halla doesn’t have many to choose from. Despite their limited means, Halla’s always clean, her hair combed and tied back with a faded ribbon. Her dark eyes are bright and reflect a wisdom beyond her age.
I found Halla two years ago when she tried to take a bag I’d set down next to me for a moment. Only eight years old at the time, I soon learned why she had to steal to survive. And then I met her mother, Sagga, and learned much more about Halla. Now, I bring food and she occasionally relays words from Sagga, who claims to possess seiðr, the ability to predict the future. She’s only ever foreseen simple and unsurprising events for me—a new person I might meet, a difficult day at work—but Halla says Sagga feels better providing something in return. We all like this arrangement more than Halla’s reluctant thievery.
I’m never sure if she’ll make it to meet me. Sometimes Sagga asks her to stay home and she does, even though they both desperately need the food I bring them.
“Hello, Halla,” I say as I sit down next to her.
“Hi, Ms. Sifa!” Her exuberant response always draws a smile. It took a while to break through the distrust she’d developed toward all adults except her mother. I’m grateful I did.
“They served roasted boar at the tavern today,” I share as I hand her the bag with tonight’s dinner and enough extra to get them through tomorrow.
Her eyes light up in response. She loves boar. “Mama will be happy,” she responds. But then her grin drops away and she casts her gaze down. She doesn’t like the words she’s been asked to share with me today, I can tell.
“It’s okay,” I assure her. “Tell me what your mother said.”
She nods slowly, not yet looking up. When she does, she stares at me with the most intense focus I’ve ever seen, her sapphire eyes bright and wide. “The time is near,” she says in a voice I’ve never heard her use. “Your enemy approaches, but he is not your enemy. Take a risk when you know you shouldn’t, and we all will prevail.”
“That’s more cryptic than normal.” I can’t hold back an uncertain laugh at her words. I have no idea what to make of them.
“Mama said you’ll know when the time comes. And if you listen to her words, you’ll change everything. For everyone.” She grimaces and lifts her shoulders in a helpless shrug. She seems as confused as me.
“Well then, it’s great advice. Thank you.” I watch as she stands and takes a step down, holding the full bag with both hands.
“Mama asked me to come home soon tonight,” she explains as she turns to look at me again. “But there’s one more thing I need to tell you.” Halla pauses, looking away before her gaze finally returns to mine. “I understand this one, and it makes me sad.” She looks down for the briefest moment as a pair of tears tries to break free.
I reach out to cup her cheek. “It’ll be okay, whatever it is.”
