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One week later
Many enter Fortuna with hope and coin
Few leave with either, if they leave at all
The city of Fortuna was where luck went to die.
Slipping past the border of the cursed lands and back into Asidia had been easier than I’d anticipated. Apparently the king had forgotten that the very person he sought was also the one who’d been in charge of his defenses.
It took me a week to make my way to the city of Fortuna, a wicked little town to the far northeast of Sciona. Home to Maliah’s temple, and a place where men could remake or ruin themselves.
Well, there was another reason I ventured there.
Hidden in the corner of the ramshackle tavern aptly named The Sly Fox, I brought the glass of ale to my lips and took a large drink. My compass rested on the table, the etched claw symbol on its back staring back at me as revelers danced in a drunken stupor, while others downed liquor in hopes of forgetting their misfortune.
Fortuna boasted more than Maliah’s temple.
Dozens of gambling dens and fighting pits filled the city, which smelled of blood, ale, and coin. You could find anything you wanted here, from assassins to illegal drugs or weapons. The black market had often been overlooked by Cirian, who’d claimed it was a minor inconvenience. Lucky for me.
A man wearing an obnoxious red jacket slid into the seat beside mine, his eyes trained on the band playing a raucous tune across the room. When he crossed his arms, I caught sight of a tattoo on the underside of his wrist. A single claw.
“I hear you require an audience with the Fox.” It wasn’t a question.
“I do,” I said, sitting up and knocking back the last of my drink. The liquid courage went down smoothly, warming my already heated chest. Since that day back in the Mist, the flames inside me hadn’t dissipated. They were always there, ready to be unleashed.
I shoved my pouch of stolen coins onto the table. The man snagged the bag and tucked it into his jacket. His cap rested low over his eyes, but I imagined they gleamed at the feel of the bag’s weight.
“Come with me,” was all he said as he stood. The Fox’s minion slunk through the crowds with the ease of a man who’d been born and raised in the bedlam that was Fortuna.
I followed, my hand on my dagger’s hilt.
If there was one soul in Asidia who could help me now, it would be the Fox. The very last person I ever wanted to see again.
But for her, for Kiara, I’d do just about anything. As I trailed after my guide, past the bar and through a set of doors leading to a long hall, I thought of her face. Imagined how it would look when I finally returned and held her in my arms.
“Through here,” Red Coat said, grunting at the open door at the end of the corridor. No guards were posted before it, but I suspected the Fox had other securities in place. She wasn’t one to be trusted.
Nodding at the man, who slipped back into the hall, I marched over the threshold. A warm office greeted me, and tapestries from all over the realm hung on the dark-paneled walls. Statues and figurines littered small tables and ottomans, the trinkets likely worth a fortune all by themselves. The Fox was a well-known collector. A thief.
A desk sat in the center of the room, and a slight woman with brown eyes and gleaming black hair sat in its chair, her hands splayed across the polished wood surface. She never took her eyes from me, and I never gave her the satisfaction of cowering. This woman owed me a debt.
“Welcome,” she said, motioning to a seat before her desk. “I was wondering when you’d come to me.”
Screams sounded from the bar, muffled by the thick walls of the Fox’s lair. Her grin grew predatory as I took a seat, and her gaze dipped to where my coat fell open, revealing the Godslayer blade. Her brown eyes twinkled in delight.
I lifted my chin, forcing my mask in place. How many times had I envisioned sitting right here, before her? How many years had I wondered why she’d left me, alone with a cruel man who fed off my pain?
I leaned forward, placing the compass on the table between us. Her eyes flickered down, but not a trace of emotion shone in them.
“Thought I’d return this,” I said, forcing a grin. Let her see how little her presence meant to me.
She cocked her head, but she made no move to retrieve the compass.
“I believe you owe me a favor, dearest Mother.”
