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Nathaniel snorted to smother a laugh, while Zan went sullen.
“I’m afraid you have that the wrong way around. He is my bodyguard and swordsman.” Then Zan amended, “My friend, too, of course.”
I shot Nathaniel a sympathetic look. “You must have your work cut out for you. I’ve known him less than an hour, and I already want to kill him.”
“It’s a taxing job,” Nathaniel said.
Zan ignored us. “We’ll have to house her in an inn’s stables tonight. The horse, not the girl. Though she does seem to have a fondness for sleeping in stables.” I glared at him. Unruffled, he continued, “I’ll talk to the innkeeper about getting her something to eat and providing her with a place to sleep for a day, maybe two.”
“I’m not selling you my horse,” I said again.
Zan gave me a patronizing smile. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
12
It is to my great discredit that I slept so peacefully, alone in my tiny room at the inn. For those hours, with food in my belly and a pillow beneath my head, I forgot about everything. Kellan, Conrad, my mother . . . I even forgot the feel of Toris’s knife at my throat and the fathomless darkness of the woods.
When I finally woke in the late afternoon, I was pleased to find that a basin of water had been laid out for me, and I knelt with reverential gratitude at the lavender-scented pool. The water was cool and wonderful. I scrubbed my skin pink and lathered up my hair with a chunk of homemade soap that smelled of mint and vanilla and rosemary.
After I was dressed, I assessed the few belongings I’d brought with me, stashed in my pockets and bodice and the pack from Falada’s saddle. I took inventory: one bracelet, broken clasp. Charms: a ruby firebird, a sapphire-tailed mermaid, and a diamond-and-opal winged horse. A bloodstained square of silk fabric, two drops dark and copper red, a third so faded it was almost imperceptible. The linen parcel that contained my incomplete wedding dress. And then a vial of blood on a cord, supposedly derived from Cael, the Founder himself.
The last thing I removed from the bag was a bundle of gold-trimmed cobalt, Kellan’s cloak. I rubbed the fabric between my fingers. It smelled like him, like summer-sweet grass and windswept hills and the sun setting against a wide, dusky sky. I spent the better part of an hour furiously scrubbing it clean of the bloodstains as if the effort could also erase my memory of how they got there. Soon the water was tinged brown and my hands—?as well as my heart—?were cracked and raw.
I took the rest of the afternoon to collect myself and gather my things, numbly placing them one by one into the safe darkness of the pack. Then I made myself stand and face my reflection in the room’s cloudy mirror, letting my breath out slowly as I relaxed my features into well-practiced composure. In negotiations, my father used to say, emotions were best left in check or they could be used to your disadvantage. When I saw Zan again, my face would be as blank and unreadable as a new piece of parchment.
Before I went down to retrieve Falada and leave the sanctuary of the inn, I removed the firebird charm from the bracelet. I had no intention of selling Falada to Zan, but he had helped me, and I couldn’t let such a debt go unpaid. I owed too much to too many, and the weight of my dues sat heavy on my shoulders. Better to not add to the sum.
The interior of the stable was dark save for thin threads of sunlight coming through the slats of the roof and the light from the door. It smelled of damp hay and old leather, so much like Kellan’s stable at Greythorne that I had to swallow hard to rid myself of the lump forming again in my throat. I went from stall to stall, listening to the horses softly nicker at my passing.
I came to the end of the stable. Then I pivoted on my heel and walked the length of the building again.
Falada was gone.
When I heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel, I didn’t have to turn to look to know who it was. “You took her.” It wasn’t a question.
Zan said, “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I understand that you saw her, you wanted her, and then you took her. Where is she? Sooner or later I’ll find her, and—”
“You won’t find her,” he said. “Please know that she’s safe and secure in my care. Here, I’ve got your payment ready. I think you’ll find it very generous. More than enough to establish yourself in Achleva: secure permanent lodging, pay for food and expenses while you find suitable employment. It should last you for a couple of months at least, maybe several if you’re frugal.” He held out a leather purse.
“I don’t want it,” I said.
“You need it.”
Ignoring the coin pouch, I took his other hand and thrust the firebird charm into it.
“What’s this?”
“Payment for the room, and the food.” I pushed past him, out of the stable and into the inn courtyard.
He grabbed my elbow. “I can’t take this,” he said.
I looked from the firebird to his face. The likeness to Simon was even more obvious in the daylight.
“You’ll have to.” I shook his hand from my arm. “This way there can be no argument that what you’ve done was some kind of transaction. You stole Falada. Remember that when you put on your silken finery and parade around on her back so all your friends can stand in awe at your great fortune.” There was a bitter edge in my words. To myself I muttered, “I was wrong to trust you. You’re nothing like your father.”
Zan’s eyes narrowed. “And what do you think you know about my father?”
