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Verve meant to find Alem once she’d finished her smoke, but instead she returned to Hadiya’s loft, where she spent the nights it wasn’t raining. There, she opened a bottle of Dilt brandy from her personal stores, and the rest of the evening faded into a blur. Although the barn’s roof had seen better days, the charred opening gave Verve a perfect vantage point to watch over the road leading into Lotis. Or so she told herself.
She saw no trace of the meridian and her anchor. Had they truly left? If they were hoping to ambush Verve, they’d find more trouble than they bargained for.
But the memory of the meridian’s glowing eyes made Verve shudder. She lit another puffer to chase away the recollection.
When true night fell, Verve lit the lanterns she’d brought up here, casting the small space in a warm, comforting glow. As she finished, footsteps sounded below. Someone had entered the lower level. Verve’s muscles were loose at this point, but the thought of a fight wasn’t unwelcome. It’d be good to do something with this nervous energy, after all.
“Who’s there?” she called.
“Just me,” Alem replied.
Verve’s heart soared but, she tamped down the feeling. “What’s wrong?”
The ladder creaked as he climbed to the loft. His head popped up, his long hair hanging loose around his shoulders as he inhaled, then regarded her. “Care for some company?”
She waved a hand. “Step into my parlor.”
The loft was fairly large, but most of it was too damaged to be of use. After much inspection and testing, Verve and Hadiya had figured out that one side was structurally sound. So when Alem clambered up the ladder and stepped onto the loft platform, the wood thankfully didn’t do more than creak in protest.
He carefully picked his way toward Verve, sniffing the air again. His gaze fell to the almost-empty bottle beside her and he raised a brow.
She gripped the bottle to her chest. “It’s not from the Willow. Calm down.”
“I wasn’t…” He sighed and dropped to a seated position by the windowsill, leaning on one elbow to gaze at the moonless sky. Both Atal and Seren had set by now, but each moon would appear again in its own time.
“I heard you met our guests,” Alem said.
Verve took another draw from her puffer. “You could say that. Didn’t see you there, though.”
He grunted. “What’d you think of them?”
Verve considered. “Hasina’s strong, and could probably best me if she caught me by surprise. But I’d bet that I’m the more creative fighter. No doubt she’s more… particular with her morals than I am. Sohvi…” She fingered the puffer. “I’d have to kill her first, and quickly. She’s no mage—as far as I could tell—but still dangerous. A jab at her throat would do the trick. Messy, but effective. I could probably defeat them both within five minutes, given the right circumstances. Ten, if they caught me unawares. But most people don’t manage that.”
Alem’s eyes rounded as he stared at her. “Ea’s tits and balls…”
The shock in his voice meant she’d let a little too much of her nature slip free. Cheeks burning, Verve retreated to her bottle, downing a huge swallow in what she hoped was a casual manner.
“I meant,” Alem said slowly, deliberately, “what did you think of them as people? Not how you’d…kill them.”
“What else is there to know about someone?” The words sprang free before she could stop them.
Alem’s gaze fell on the bottle again. “Have you ever met a meridian?”
The heat in her cheeks somehow correlated with how her voice became more slurred. “Why’s everyone so sodding fixated on whether I’ve met someone with freakish glowing eyes?”
He skimmed a hand through his hair, which fell around his face like a silken curtain. “Never mind.” He got to his feet. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Wait.” She stood, too, and promptly bonked her head on the low, slanted roof. Grimacing, she went to him, straightening when she reached his side, where the roof was at its tallest. “Alem, I didn’t like them,” she admitted. “They…bothered me.”
His brows shot up. “They hurt you?”
“No, I wasn’t hurt.” She tried not to notice the way his forearms flexed as he tightened his hand into fists. “But the meridian did something to me; used some kind of magic I’ve never encountered.”
“She pulled the truth from you?” Alem asked. When Verve nodded, he seemed to consider his answer. “Meridians have that ability, though I’m told only a few can manage it.”
Her head throbbed; she pressed her fingertips against the sore spot. Alem’s eyes darted to her fingers, then to her hematite-embedded coat. The question hung between them, unasked, and Verve was almost drunk enough to answer it.
