A clatter sounds from outside, joined by raised voices. Georgia swings to her feet. “Speaking of merry, it sounds like my darlings are having too much fun. We’ll talk tomorrow—Reed showed you rooms already, right? Perfect.”
“This was a delight,” Evain says smoothly. “I look forward to continuing.”
Georgia exits with Reed at her heels, leaving only Evain and Leth with the fire, map, and empty tankards.
Not all empty. Evain snags the last full mug from the tray and moves to the arm of the couch. “What are you worried about?”
Leth leans forward, elbows on his knees, seemingly focused on the map. His hair falls forward to conceal his expression, so Evain has to admire the slim lines of his waist instead. The curve of his ass as his trousers stretch taut. “I spoke with Anton before he left,” Leth says. “We argued, and he wouldn’t tell me where he was going. I didn’t expect him to be heading north too.”
Suspicion rises in Evain’s heart. “When did you argue?”
“The day you proposed this job,” Leth answers, then goes rigid. That was the day Evain found Leth throwing himself at a training dummy, well past the limits of exhaustion, with a vicious bruise around his eye.
Did your brother hit you?
Evain doesn’t need to ask, and he won’t force Leth to answer. With every moment Evain stays quiet, tension eases from Leth’s thin shoulders. They sit in silence until Leth leans back against the couch. “Don’t you need to go out?”
The firelight is so pretty along Leth’s jaw. “Go out?”
“You know.” Leth’s gaze slides away.
Evain knows. But he doesn’t have to go out and flirt with mercenaries or townsfolk to replenish his magic. He gets quite enough from the deceptively frigid sword-witch on the couch next to him. “Maybe later.” Evain plays with the end of his braid. “Does my promiscuity really bother you so much?”
“It doesn’t.”
“I think it does,” Evain muses. “But why?”
Leth jumps to his feet. “I’m going to rest now.”
In the instant before he turns away, Evain catches a faint pink flush along his cheeks. Maybe chasing this prey won’t take as long as he expected after all. Evain savors the view of Leth’s departure, then finishes his beer.
He needs to find Georgia and ask if there’s a tailor in town.
?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LETH
Leth kneels on cold floorboards and tries to pray. Dawn hasn’t broken yet, and the room is still gray with the remnants of night. The outpost’s insulation isn’t bad, but Leth’s only half-dressed, and goosebumps prickle down his bare arms.
He’s prayed to Ka Dravos almost every morning for as long as he can remember, but ever since the Unbinding, it’s been harder to think what to say.
“God of war, grant me strength,” he says eventually, leaning on impersonal ritual words. Hollow and insincere, but that’s all he can offer this morning. His voice sounds thin in the tiny room. “Grant me Valor. Guide my blade.”
The prayer feels insufficient. Leth wants so much more than strength from Ka Dravos, but he’ll get even less than that. Maybe it’s time to stop praying at all.
He wonders if Anton is looking for more now, too.
A knock on the door scatters his dismal thoughts. Leth jumps to his feet. “One moment!”
He grabs a shirt quickly, but nobody’s at the door when he opens it. Just a bundle wrapped in burlap and tied in twine. Leth looks both ways down the barracks hall and doesn’t see or hear anything except for some mercenary snoring in the next room.
The room lacks a table, so Leth sets the bundle on the bed he just made. He’ll straighten the blankets again later. He cuts the twine with his knife and unwraps a brand-new set of winter clothes. Coat, gloves, underclothes, socks, and scarf. Leth’s hand clenches around the knife, and then he turns the lamp on. The coat is black, similar to his current coat, but a different material. Warmer, and the lining is dense red wool. The scarf is bright red too, with a plain steel pin to keep it from blowing away or falling off in a fight.
Nothing Leth would normally wear. But today isn’t a normal day.
Today is the day he leaves Charain for the first time in his twenty-four years. They’ve rested a week in Lanwatch, arranging supplies and preparing for the journey ahead. Evain spent yesterday morning drilling them all in the rift-sealing array. They drew circle after circle, rune after rune, in the dirt of the Riverswords’ yard, until Georgia came out to scold them for scaring her darlings with all the witchcraft.
