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“Not sure yet.” The lie came to Verve’s lips with ease. “I’ve been looking for work, but hadn’t heard of this town until a few days ago.”
Ivet glanced at Alem, then back at Verve. “Judging from your, ah, display last night—not to mention all the hematite in your gear—I take it you’re a mercenary who specializes in fighting mages?”
Mercenary sounded more palatable than mage assassin, especially in a mage’s company, so Verve nodded. Let them think what they would.
Ivet smiled so easily. “Well, perhaps the One meant for you to find us. As you saw firsthand, we have need of someone with your skills.”
Not if you have a dendric mage to heal everyone. Verve kept that thought to herself and schooled her face to mild curiosity. “You have a lot of renegade shape-changers come through and try to cause trouble?”
“Not just the shiftlings,” Ivet replied. “Particle mages, too. Our little village appears to be at the border between mage territories.”
“Not that the other mages need a reason to kill each other,” Alem muttered. “Or to sow chaos.”
Odd stance for a mage to take about his kindred. Verve pretended to adjust her tunic as she surreptitiously studied Alem. He didn’t look evil, but then, mages rarely did — unless they were shooting fireballs or something else objectively dangerous. Danya often lectured to Verve and the other Chosen at length about how wicked moon-bloods were, but Verve’s missions outside of Freehold had shown mages were just… people. She thought of the mage she’d killed in the caverns; he’d died in fear, just like anyone.
But she’d never met a dendric mage. Perhaps they were better at concealing an evil nature. Maybe they weren’t rare at all, just good at hiding.
If so, she had more in common with this mage than she wanted to think about.
As if hoping to prove her own point, she kept her voice conversational. “Perhaps I may be of aid. Tell me more of this area.”
“I founded Lotis to be a peaceful village, secluded but safe,” Ivet said. “I brought a few friends with me, and more have come over the years. Most stay. Life out here isn’t always easy, but we make do. But I fear even we couldn’t stay isolated forever. The mage clans have been warring with one another for this part of Greenhill for some time, but they’ve always left us alone. Until the last couple of weeks.”
“What changed?” asked Verve. “No offense, but from what I saw last night, there’s not much to fight over here. Unless they believe another mage is after their territory.” She risked a glance at Alem, who stiffened. Was it guilt that flashed across his face? Or something more sinister?
“Legion,” Ivet said.
The word sent a thrill of horror through Verve’s veins, one she tried to ignore.
“The mage clans have always claimed whatever territory they could,” Ivet replied. “But over the years, Legion’s borders have spread farther south, which has pushed the mage clans’ boundaries closer to us. That’s all we’ve been able to learn.”
“They refuse to speak with us,” Alem added. “Usually they just attack us on sight. It’s getting harder to travel to some places.”
“From what we can tell,” Ivet added. “There are two dominant clans of mages in the area that have been at each other’s throats for some time. Legion’s expansion in the north has pushed the mage’s war south, and Lotis is now caught up in the fray.”
That sounded about right. Much the same had happened around Freehold, which is why Danya had taken such care to establish her order of Chosen mage-hunters.
Verve forced a grim smile on her face. “A familiar story, since the Sundering. Have you considered leaving Lotis for a safer place, like Freehold?”
Alem snorted. “Safe for whom?”
“For anyone who can’t heal with a touch.”
Verve expected another bitter retort, but Alem’s chin ducked and his hands curled as he looked at his boots. Guilt, again? What did a healer have to be guilty about?
Ivet sat up. “I’m Sufani. Like most of my people, I’ve spent most of my life on the move. But after I lost the arm, I wanted to settle down, build a home somewhere. That home is here. I’m not leaving.”
“A stubborn and foolish notion,” Verve replied. “But I can respect you for it.”
The older woman chuckled. “How fortunate for me, sisa.”
Longing stung Verve’s heart at the Sufa word for “girl,” said with the same easy lilt her parents had so often used. All she could give in return was a vague nod. “The shiftling last night… Has she threatened Lotis before?”
Too soon to mention Damaris, but Verve could be patient when she needed to be.
Alem leaned against a tapestry at the far wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared up at the cottage’s ceiling. “No. She’s new. Before her, some squabbling mages burned up most of Hadiya’s barn three days ago. And last week, Berel’s farm got caught between another group of shape-changers who decided her mushroom crop was the perfect place for a pissing contest.”
A chuckle bubbled to Verve’s lips before she caught herself and held it back. “Sounds about right. But what’s that got to do with me?”
