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“Oh!” I blurted in surprise.
Having forgotten about the flask my mother had given me, I dug it from the breast pocket of my tunic and held up the small leather pouch. “You mean this?”
Mydera dropped the impaled rabbit from her hand and flew to her feet, gaping at my flask.
“My God,” she rasped, her voice hushed and reverent. “There it is.”
When she stumbled forward t
o get a closer look, I tucked the flagon away, back out of sight.
Fear, then rage, flashed across her face, before her focus settled on me. “I’ll make you a trade for it.”
I winced slightly. “Sorry. Not for sale.”
She laughed, trying to cover her panic and desperation, but not succeeding in the least. “My dear boy,” she cooed. “Do you not know who we are? What we could do to you?”
I met Nicolette’s gaze and she sent me an uneasy cringe in return. Returning my attention to Mydera, I nodded. “Aye. I know what you are, but I also know what you aren’t. And if you were thieves or murderers, the two of us would already be dead and our horses stripped bare. So don’t try to intimidate me with words of thievery. I know you won’t steal it.”
My answer enraged her. Mydera snorted through her nose, glaring a good ten seconds before she pulled herself together and heaved out a settled breath. “Be that as it may,” she grumbled. “I think you underestimate how valuable that flagon could be for us.”
“It’s valuable to me, too,” was all I said.
“We’d pay you dearly for it,” Mydera tried.
“It’s sentimental,” Nicolette leaned slightly in front of me to explain. “A gift from his dying mother.”
Mydera’s gaze roved over to the princess. “Was it?” Though she seemed savagely on the edge of her patience, she mildly murmured, “How lovely.” Then she looked at me. “Well, it could mean the survival of my entire clan if you handed it over. We heard the magical barriers to Donnelly are down for good, and they’re accepting our kind over there once again. No restrictions.” She lifted a shoulder as if it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the longing in her eyes showed otherwise. “We figured we might give the little oasis of Mandalay a try, see if it could make a suitable permanent home or not.”
“Oh, Mandalay’s just lovely.” Nicolette beamed encouragingly. “I think you’d find it quite agreeable and accepting indeed.”
“Indeed,” Mydera repeated, arching her eyebrows in sarcastic accord. “So having an everlasting flagon on hand to cross the Vast Desert in order to reach this agreeable, accepting oasis would certainly come in handy. Don’t you think?”
Nicolette clamped her mouth shut and sent me a guilty cringe.
“You’ve a whole fleet of magical gypsies on hand.” I motioned toward two of them still lingering entirely too close to our horses. “Can’t you just have someone make you your own everlasting flagon?”
Mydera sent me a cheeky smile. “Sounds that simple, doesn’t it?” Then she glared. “And we prefer to be called mages, dear, not gypsies.” Then she held up a finger and turned away from us so she could stroll around the campsite. “But it just so happens that the only man to figure out how to perfect the everlasting flagon incantation and enchantment died before sharing his specialty with anyone else. So…” She shrugged. “They’re extremely rare. Your mother must’ve been very important to get her hands on one.”
I didn’t speak. My mother had been extremely popular, was all I knew. Men had paid dearly for small amounts of time with her, lavished her with all sorts of trinkets and coins. I could only assume the flagon had been one of many things she’d accrued over the years from one of her customers. And since the flask had been the last thing she’d given me before she died, I wasn’t about to part with it, no matter what kind of sob story this mage fed me.
So, I repeated, “It’s not for sale.”
“Everything’s for sale, boy,” Mydera snarled, glancing at Nicolette before returning her hard gaze to me and calming again. “I just haven’t named the right price yet.” She smiled mawkishly. “Oh, but I will. I most certainly will.”
“But people must travel to Donnelly all the time without such a flagon,” Nicolette said logically. “Otherwise, no one would reside there now, and we’d never see any trade. But we do all the time, so—”
“We?” Mydera cut in, arching her eyebrows high. “Are you claiming to be a Donnellean yourself, then, sweetling?”
Nicolette’s eyes went wide with guilt before she turned fearfully my way.
But Mydera didn’t seem to take such information as a threat. “And here, Bewler said he smelled the mark of L’Amante on you. I thought only High Clifter folk got those.” She moved, closer, squinting at Nicolette’s face. “But maybe Donnelly’s taken up the tradition as well after their big alliance. I’ll admit I’m behind on the times, especially on who does what, anymore. Though I must say, it’s nicely hidden. Very nice, indeed. You didn’t even use a glamour spell to conceal it.”
When Mydera reached up to touch the hidden tattoo, I smacked her hand away, snarling, “Don’t touch her.”
She blinked at me before slowly withdrawing her hand. “Protective,” she murmured before eyeing Nicolette. Tipping her head my way, she asked, “Your true love, I presume?”
“Yes,” Nicolette answered, just as I growled, “No.”
