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One month—one full cycle of Atal—had passed, and Verve was no closer to completing her job than when she’d first arrived in Lotis. As for her plans to have already been gone by now… Well, perhaps Danya had been right to give her three cycles of the hunter’s moon to get this done. If Damaris was a false name for Alem, Verve had to either turn him in or find another mage she could claim was the infamous magic-user. Neither option held much appeal.
But neither did the threat of Danya’s displeasure. So the hour before dawn, Verve’s steps dragged as she prepared to slip out of Lotis for a day of lone scouting. If nothing else, she could ensure no nearby renegade mages were planning anything they’d regret — like an attack on Lotis.
But honestly, her heart wasn’t interested in hunting evil mages, not when Alem had taken residence in her brain and, like some vagrant squatter, had refused to leave. A coward, he’d called her.
Her mouth twisted in a grimace as she gathered her supplies for the day, including her weapons. Alem was one to talk, though they hadn’t said a word to each other in the week since the argument in her loft — in Hadiya’s loft.
Verve made it down the ladder, but the moment her boots hit the floor, her instincts warned her of another presence nearby. Whirling, Verve met Klaret’s quiet gaze. The other woman lifted a hand in greeting, then gestured at the open door behind her.
“Should have knocked,” Klaret said softly. “Sorry to scare you.”
Not likely. But protesting would belie that fact, so Verve kept her reply nonchalant. “Forgiven. Everything all right?”
Of all the Lotis villagers, Klaret was the least prone to casual visits.
“The traps are all in place, in the places we discussed,” Klaret said. “Just thought you should know, since you’re always out scouting.”
That was fast. They’d only mapped out locations for the various traps a few days ago, and Klaret had said she’d need more supplies before crafting the various snares and other nasty surprises to leave for rogue mages.
But the best thing about Klaret was that she didn’t seem to care about praise and could figure out most of the finer details of a plan on her own. So Verve only bowed. “Great work. Thanks.”
Klaret nodded. But as she turned to leave, she cast Verve one last look. “Oh. Owen wants to see you.”
She gestured outside the barn, where Verve could see the lad pacing in the pre-dawn light. What in Atal’s name was going on?
As Klaret hurried off to her daily tasks, Verve met Owen outside. The moment he spotted her, he clasped his hands before him. “Okay, hear me out before you say no.”
Verve groaned. “It’s too early for this.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”
“Does it matter?”
Owen met her eyes. “I just… Look, Verve. I’ve seen you fight mages—”
“What?” Verve groaned again. “You can’t keep sneaking out, Owen. Pacifist or not, Alem will kill me if you get hurt.”
“I said, hear me out!” Owen took a deep breath and continued. “You’re so skilled with those daggers. I have to learn, too. Teach me. Please.”
He stared at her with huge brown eyes, like a puppy hoping for table scraps. Verve bit back her first response, which was to scoff and turn away, and instead tried to keep her voice quiet. She had to let the kid down easy.
“There are so many reasons why that’s a bad idea, Owen,” she began. “For one thing, no one starts off with metal blades. For another… I’ve had years and years of practice. I began when I was not much older than Lio is now.”
“Which is why I’ve got to start,” Owen replied. “I’m already so behind. And look what I found!” He pointed to the side of the barn, where two practice spears leaned against the wood.
Dawn was just creeping over the sky. Verve had a full day planned, but it needed to get started already. She couldn’t delay just to satisfy Owen’s ego.
But just as she opened her mouth to refuse again, he added: “You won’t be around forever. I have to be able to defend myself — and Lio. Please, Verve.”
“Absolutely not.” Alem came marching from the direction of his cottage, some kind of droopy potted plant in his grip. “Owen, get back to Ivet’s. You’ve got lessons soon. Let Verve do her job.”
But the lad stood his ground. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I’m making the right choice.” He looked at Verve again. “Please?”
Alem looked at her too, and for a moment, Verve swayed between polite and firm refusals. Then Owen’s words returned: You won’t be around forever.
If I do one good thing here, maybe it’ll be this. The boy deserved a fighting chance. “Fine,” she said to Owen. “One quick lesson before I head out. Depending on how you do, we’ll go from there.”
