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Verve couldn’t spare the energy to care about the barely veiled insult. Her mind had flung itself back to her childhood. She was a little girl, shuddering in the darkness, while shouts and jeers sounded all around. The scent of smoke made her eyes water, but she dared not close them against the shadows. She was too warm; sweat beaded her skin, stung her eyes along with the smoke.
Danya’s touch on her arm chased the memory away. “I should remind you,” the priest said gently, “that although Legion’s reputation is…fierce, its mage-hunters work hard to keep us all safe. We are not so different from them.”
It took every ounce of self-control Verve possessed not to rip her arm out of Danya’s reach. “As you say, serla.”
Danya’s eyes narrowed, but her voice was still gentle. “Time is of the essence. A pair of odd strangers have been spotted in town; I believe the prisoner’s people are looking for him.”
Sohvi and Hasina. Fear flashed through Verve’s veins as Danya continued.
“You’ll leave at first light to take the prisoner. Return to your little village, after, but know this, Vervaine: I will have the head of whichever power-mad mage has taken over Lotis. You have two weeks from now to deliver it, or I’ll send the rest of the Chosen to succeed where you have failed. You know how eager Usko is for a true test of his skills. He’s come a long way from the sniveling little boy you found in the gutter. Now, I think he’d even be a match for you. But I would dearly hate to find that out, wouldn’t you?”
Verve’s blood roared in her ears. Surely, she misunderstood what Danya was getting at. Right? “What do you mean, serla?”
“Aren’t you paying attention?” Danya gave a tsk-tsk of disappointment. “If you fail, if you decide you’d rather take your chances somewhere else in Atal’s realm, I will order Usko and the others first to burn Lotis to the ground, then to hunt you down to whatever corner of the world your filthy little vagabond heart drags you. Do you understand that, Vervaine?”
Verve was ice; she was fire. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Danya smiled, sweet as any grandmother. “I think that’s more than fair, child, after all I’ve sacrificed for you.”
* * *
Perhaps it was because of Verve’s reputation—or more likely, Danya’s—but Ivet’s silver coin went farther in Freehold than Verve had anticipated. Far enough, at least, to drown Verve’s thoughts with the strongest liquor she could coax the barkeep to bring up from his stores. Another of the Dancing Duck’s patrons was a known puffer vendor, happy to oblige Verve’s request. After the day she’d had, she deserved a bit of fun, so she whiled away the afternoon and evening in a haze of blissful oblivion, her back tucked safely against the Duck’s far wall.
She saw Alem enter at supper time and glance around. But she’d carefully positioned herself behind a column and a group of large Canderi men, whose massive shoulders blocked her from view but allowed her to keep watch. Alem studied the bar’s patrons, then spoke to the barkeeper, whom Verve had given a few additional coins to play dumb should anyone inquire about her.
Just so. The barkeeper shrugged masterfully and went back to filling the mugs before him. Alem frowned, glanced around again, then slipped into a seat alone. He waved to a server and ordered. Tea, no doubt, or something else wholesome. Verve chuckled to herself between puffs. Sure enough, the server returned later with a mug of something steaming, and a plate of roasted lamb. Alem dug in, but not with enthusiasm. And he didn’t stop looking for her.
Verve’s heart twisted, but that was easily rectified with another few swallows from the bottle at her elbow. After a day like today, she deserved a tiny treat. Besides, she couldn’t face Alem right now, at least not while she still suffered any illusion of sobriety.
Alem finished his meal and drank his tea, but after no sign of Verve, he finally gave up and headed up the stairs to the room they’d rented for the night. Room, singular. Verve didn’t let herself think about that, either.
She stayed put until last call, when the barkeeper gave her that look: get out before I make you. Smiling a bit too wide, Verve plunked down another silver—she didn’t mind flaunting a little in Freehold—and made her swaying way to the stairwell, which seemed a lot longer and steeper than she remembered. But the puzzle only mildly perplexed her as she climbed up to the rented room. With any luck, this next bit would be painful but quick, then she could be on her way. With any luck, Alem would understand.
Luck. Verve snorted a laugh, leaning against a stranger’s door for support. The person behind the door grumbled something about drunken assholes, but Verve ignored them and continued.
Alem’s room was dark, which made sense, given that it was after midnight. But the window was open to allow the warm night air entry. Atal rose, a waning crescent climbing past the horizon. Two weeks, Danya had said. Atal would be dark; Seren, the mage moon, would be at her strongest. A bad omen or a good one? Surely Verve was the last person in the world able to tell the difference.
“Verve?” Alem’s voice rose, hazy with sleep.
She eased into the room. It only took two tries to lock the door behind her. “You shouldn’t leave the window open. Anyone could sneak in and slit your throat.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t having nightmares yet.” He sat up from his single bed, watching her. “Where in Ea’s realm were you? I waited…” He trailed off, inhaling. “What happened?”
She ignored him and leaned out the window, savoring the night breeze on her face. It was easier to ignore the dark when her mind was little more than a pleasant slosh. “I have to go.”
“What? Where?”
“You don’t need to know that,” she said. “But I’ll be back here in a few days. Then we can return to Lotis.”
The bedclothes rustled as he got up. His steps over to her were soft, but not silent. He hadn’t been trained to slip across a bedroom without sound. Alem came to the window beside her, staring at her with that intensity only he could manage. “Verve, what are you talking about? You had to come here, so we came. Now you say you must go somewhere else? Why? What’s going on?”
“Nothing you should concern yourself with,” she replied, keeping her voice calm. “I’ll leave you with plenty of coin, so you can hire some help to return should the need arise. I’m sorry for the short notice, but I promise you, it’s for the best you not know anything more.”
A new thought struck her, one that made her swear again. If Usko had gotten a good enough look at Alem back in Lotis, and then saw him here in Freehold… “In fact, you shouldn’t linger at all. And wear a hood when you go out. And for the One god’s sake, don’t use your fucking magic out in the open. I don’t care how hurt someone is. I’ll—”
“You’re hurt,” he broke in. “What happened?” His hand lifted as if to touch her face.
Like a sodding idiot, her fingers stole to the mark Danya had left earlier, verifying his observation. The bleeding had stopped, but the moonlight must have revealed too much, especially to a healer with a weakness for lost causes.
