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“Right. Well, it shouldn’t take long to gather what we’ve got to trade. I’ve been inventorying my stocks, tallying what we’re low on.”
He did not say “we’re almost out of liquor, thanks to Verve,” but he didn’t need to. And when he seemed to meet Verve’s gaze with effort, she hated herself a little more for the sight. She mentally stamped out the feeling. She paid for every drink she took. No doubt Lotis’s treasury was brimming with her coin.
Which…wasn’t as noble a thought as she’d wanted it to be. Best not dwell. Best move on, focus on her new task.
At dawn the next day, she and Alem, and a wide canoe filled with bundles and bags, departed Lotis. As they paddled against the current, Verve glanced over her shoulder at the humble homes, at the floating boardwalks, at Ivet, Dannel, and some of the kids waving goodbye. All familiar, now.
Too familiar.
With a deep breath, Verve faced forward and threw herself into the repetitive motions of paddling. She wasn’t ready for the task ahead, but she could pretend as well as anyone.
* * *
During the journey through the swamp’s winding waterways, Verve and Alem mostly spoke only when they couldn’t avoid it, which left Verve far too many opportunities to think. That was rarely a good thing.
So while she wasn’t exactly relieved to arrive at Freehold, the dilemma of moving their goods from the canoe to the landlocked city made for a welcome distraction. If not for the Zhee trader they met at the closest dock in a neighboring port town, Verve supposed she and Alem would’ve had to drag the canoe to Freehold’s gates. As it was, Alem hired the trader’s wagon, and after unloading and reloading their cargo, then squeezing into the back of the wagon and being jostled about like sacks of sullen potatoes, they reached their destination.
As Alem made arrangements with the trader for the return trip, Verve approached the gate guards. Luck was with her again, for Sacha was on duty. The other woman murmured something to her fellow guard and then swaggered over to Verve, one hand on her sword hilt.
Verve paused, her own fingers reaching for her crossbow before she stopped herself. “Well met, Sacha,” she called, lifting a hand in greeting. “You’re looking well.”
“Fine thing to say to me, after you left without so much as a ‘see you later,’” Sacha shot back, a frown on her full lips.
Verve flushed. “Sorry about that. I meant no slight, but my work—”
Sacha broke into a laugh, and Verve relaxed. “Ah, I couldn’t say it with a straight face,” Sacha replied, giggling. “Wouldn’t it be funny if I really cared about such things?”
You mean, if you actually missed me? Verve forced a chuckle at the guard’s joke. Sacha meant no harm; their relationship was casual by necessity. It’d never bothered Verve before.
Sacha stepped closer, eying Verve up and down with appreciation. “But I still wonder if you’ll ever have time to pay me a proper visit?”
The gravel crunched as Alem came up behind them, the trader from Zheem and her wagon close on his heels. Suddenly the mild spring afternoon felt too warm. Verve tried to smile. “I’d love to, Sacha. I’ll do my best.”
Sacha gave an exaggerated sigh. “That’s a no. Honestly, what am I to do with her?”
She said this to Alem, who cocked an eyebrow at Verve, but replied to the guard. “Throw her in irons, maybe?”
“Oh, fantastic idea,” Sacha said, beaming.
Verve cleared her throat and gestured to the wagon. “I hate to rush you, but can we…?”
“Go on, then.” Sacha waved them through the gates, but not before she shot Verve another knowing look and a wink so obvious that even blind Dannel could have seen it.
Cheeks hot, Verve trudged beside Alem as they entered Freehold. To his credit, Alem said nothing until the Zhee trader pointed them toward the market. It was time to go their separate ways — for now.
“We’ll meet for dinner at that inn you mentioned,” Alem said to Verve. “The Prancing Dove, right?”
“Dancing Duck,” Verve muttered.
“Right.” Alem glanced back toward the guard station. “Look, if you have somewhere else you’d rather stay while we’re here, I don’t mind. I’m a big boy. I can—”
“I’ll see you tonight,” Verve broke in.
He nodded, then shot her a wink. “By the way, she’s adorable.”
“Shut up.” She turned to leave.
“I mean it,” Alem continued. “But in all seriousness, I’m glad you have…someone. Everyone needs people who genuinely care for them.”
Verve paused and glanced back at him. He’d tucked several of her hematite amulets beneath his shirt, and he looked about as non-magic as the rest of Freehold’s population. The thought struck her that if anyone else knew what he was—Sacha, included—they’d not hesitate to tattle to Danya or the magistrate — or just run him through with their own blades.
Her hands tightened into fists. She would not let that happen.
“Sacha’s just a friend,” she said, coming back over to Alem, holding his gaze. “We have fun together, sometimes, but nothing more. I don’t have her. Or anyone, for that matter. Just for, you know, general information.”
Now that was a supremely foolish thing to say. Indeed, Alem’s eyes widened and he seemed at a loss for words, and Verve tried not to be too visibly pleased at the fact.
“My mistake,” he murmured, and gave her that crooked smile again, the one that sent her heart galloping over the open plains.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Be safe. I’ll see you later.”
