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“I think he pissed himself after taking one look at you.” That was Kella.
“It was the most unsatisfying battle of our career!” Hoyefe scoffed. “Sunburn scared them all away before I even drew my sword.”
“They stole her books!” Tuura exclaimed. “What did you expect?”
“And my books weren’t all they left behind,” Solia said with satisfaction. “You must admit, their abandoned gold was a beautiful sight.”
Just out of their view, Cassia hesitated, holding Knight back. She didn’t want to bring Solia’s responsibilities into this rare moment of uncomplicated happiness with her mercenary family.
But Tuura must have sensed her, for the mind healer called, “Shadow! Come join us. We just brewed a fresh pot of coffee.”
Cassia could not say no to coffee. She went inside, and Solia patted an empty floor cushion beside her. Cassia set down her pack and joined her sister.
Kella poured her a cup of coffee from the pot brewing over the fire. Tilili lounged beside her, resting her chin on one of Kella’s residual limbs above where her knee had once been. The cat opened her eyes to slits and deigned to purr at Knight.
After three cups of coffee and another tale of her sister’s deeds had revived Cassia, Kella and Tuura sent Hoyefe on his way.
“This strategy session is for women only,” Kella told him.
“But I am an expert on fashion,” he protested. “Sunburn needs the advice of a cultured aristocrat from the Imperial capital more than that of a feral desert princess and a scrollworm from a peanut village.”
Throwing playful insults right back at him, they banished him.
Kella sat Solia down on a camp stool and ran her indigo-stained hands through Solia’s golden hair. “Let us see what we can do to turn you back into a princess.”
Solia made a face. “Only if I get to be a princess who’s as deadly as you are.”
Cassia handed Solia a large hand mirror of the clearest Orthros glass, and Kella looked at their reflections in it over Solia’s shoulder, pressing her brown cheek to Solia’s fair one. The image struck Cassia, so similar and yet so different from the times when Iris had sat Solia down at her dressing table to assist her before formal events.
Iris would have loved Kella. She would be happy Solia had a true friend now.
Tuura set out a collection of pots on her travel desk. “My alchemy is still something of an experimental process as I adjust my ancestral spells for the Silence, but these should suffice.”
Cassia eyed a hint of razor burn on Tuura’s cheeks. The diviner had a shaving cream she swore by to help her with the inconveniences of the male body her female spirit inhabited. It seemed that mixture needed adjusting as well. “I think Tenebran and Imperial alchemy can strengthen each other, judging by some of the concoctions we brew in Orthros. Have you thought about adding some northern lavender and honey to your aloe cream?”
“Oh, what an excellent idea,” Tuura said. “We should mix it together and see if ancestral channeling and Lustra channeling play nicely.”
“I would love to.” Cassia glanced at Kella, who was joking about skinning snakes while braiding Solia’s hair, and lowered her voice. “I wonder if you might also help me with another potion.”
Tuura looked at her with concern. “Of course, Shadow. Are you well?”
“I will manage. But it would be easier to manage with alchemy.” Cassia rarely confessed her episodes to anyone except Lio and the Hesperine mind healers, but today, she was determined. She tried to describe the symptoms of her fear as factually as possible. “I need something for the daylight hours when Lio can’t help me.”
Tuura embraced her, her plump arms soft and strong. “I’m so glad you asked me, Shadow. After we help your sister get dressed, we’ll mix a batch of shaving cream and my tonic for battle survivors.”
Cassia hugged her back fiercely.
“What do you think?” Kella asked, gesturing to Solia’s hair.
She had tamed Solia’s plain thatch of cropped hair into elaborate braids against her head, woven with silver Azarqi charms shaped like feathers.
“Oh, marvelous,” Cassia exclaimed. “You can carry a bit of the Empire with you, Soli.”
Solia touched the silver filigreed charms. “Always.”
“And they’re imbued with Azarqi quiet spells,” Kella explained, “to obscure our conversations when the Hesperines can’t help us along with veils.”
Tuura transformed Solia’s face next, and when she was done, one would never know Solia wore cosmetics at all. But the potions softened her sun-spotted complexion with a healthy glow, brought out the blue of her eyes, and turned her chapped lips smooth and rosy.
