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Different Faces
Two days later, well after the mages’ pyre had burned itself to ashes, Verve tried not to tear out her hair in frustration.
“I said, leave your belongings at home,” she called to the nearest group of Lotis villagers, who struggled to run to the tavern while dragging bulging packs.
One of the villagers turned to glare at her. “These candle holders are family heirlooms. I can’t leave them!”
“It’s just a practice drill,” Verve hissed through clenched teeth. “Candlesticks will be the least of your worries if rogue mages decide to burn down your house.”
“But I already left all my winter clothes,” the villager whined. “You expect me to leave my great-grandfather’s heirlooms too?”
The warning gong rang out again, the sound echoing over the marsh and drowning out Verve’s reply. The pounding in her head, already fierce at the futility of this mission, worsened.
“Oh, Hadiya found the gong!” Another villager came up beside the others, also sporting an enormous pack of belongings. “It’s louder than I remember.”
“Just get to the Willow,” Verve said, jabbing her thumb in the tavern’s direction, where most of the other Lotis villagers were converging.
The two stragglers made to move, but the first one paused and glanced back toward her home. “Drat. I forgot my spare set of boots.”
“Forget your sodding boots,” Verve shot back. “Go. Now. If this were real, you’d both be incinerated already.”
Both villagers scoffed, then Ivet’s voice sounded behind Verve. “You heard her,” Ivet called. “Get a move on!”
Ivet’s commanding tone did the trick, and both villagers scrambled toward the tavern. Verve glanced back to see the village leader standing at the edge of the floating dock that led to Dannel’s front door.
“You’re the last, vidahem,” Ivet said to the old fellow. “Are you coming or not?”
Dannel stood just outside the door, clutching at his loom. “Aye, if Verve will help me with this.”
Maybe Verve could have humored him, but the damn loom stood as tall as she did. Judging by how it didn’t budge when she threw her weight against it, the sodding thing probably weighed about ten times as much as the old man. No way Verve could move it on her own. Besides, that wasn’t the point of this drill.
Mage or not, Verve couldn’t yell at the old blind fellow. Which left her with only one option. She said, in her gentlest voice, “Ser, there’s no time—”
“I can’t leave my loom,” Dannel broke in as Ivet tried to guide him toward the tavern. “Please!”
The clanging gong sent another spear of pain through Verve’s temples, but she fought back the instinct to drag the old codger along by force.
“Hurry, Verve,” Dannel called. But there was a distinctly jovial edge to his voice, one that made Verve want very much to hit something. Preferably with one of her daggers.
She let go of the loom and glared (uselessly) in Dannel’s direction. “It’s just a drill! And besides, you don’t need your sodding loom! And if this was real, you’d be wasting valuable time by dragging along everything you—”
The gong rang out one last time, and the ensuing silence swallowed the rest of Verve’s words. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Never mind. The drill’s over.”
“So it is.” Dannel slipped out of Ivet’s grasp and guided himself back to his seat beside the loom. “Pity. It was a good idea, though. Maybe it’ll go better next time.”
He hummed as he plucked at the threads, while Verve stood by, stunned speechless. Sodding mages.
She glanced at Ivet, who offered her a small smile. “Well, we got almost everyone,” Ivet said.
Verve bit her tongue and slid a hand over her scarf, which she’d wrapped around her braids today. Don’t yell at the old people.
“I think,” she said through a clenched jaw, “some folks don’t yet understand the concept of ‘practice drills.’ Dannel, if—no, when—mages attack Lotis, there won’t be time to save every precious bauble. Human lives are more important than any possession.”
“Funny words, coming from a mage-hunter,” Dannel replied lightly as he worked.
Verve’s face warmed. “Point taken, but I’m here now, and trying to help.”
“Human lives over trinkets,” Dannel continued, as if Verve hadn’t spoken. “Careful, sisa, your Sufani is showing.”
