by Becca Blake
14
Miria paused in front of the watchtower, catching fragments of her reflection in the grimy window as she passed by. Dirt from the mines had stained her silver hair a muddy brown, and her face looked worn beyond her years. She ran a finger down her cheek, wiping away a layer of dirt to reveal the pale skin beneath.
It had only been a week since she was sent to work in the mines, but it felt like it had been years. Only a week, and a shadow of the woman she was before stared back at her, weak and terrified. What would years do to her? Would she ever be able to wipe her skin clean, or would the filth stain her forever?
Going back to the mines after Girard’s death had been difficult. She hadn’t had any time to grieve before being thrown right back into the tunnels, where she was reminded of him every minute of every day. He wouldn’t want her to fixate on his death so much, but she couldn’t help it. She had to face the emptiness his loss left behind every damned day.
Miria tore herself away from her dismal reflection and entered the watchtower. She dropped two silver coins onto the warden’s desk. “For my debt to the city.”
The climb up to the watchtower was the last thing she wanted to do after spending all day in the mines, but somehow she found the strength to manage it so she could start paying down her fine.
Lucian eyed the coins and leaned back in his chair. “Triple that.”
“Triple? I’ve only earned six silvers since I started. Two is all I can afford to give.” Coins bit into Miria’s palm as her grip on the small purse tightened.
“And six is your weekly due until your debt is repaid.”
“How am I supposed to eat without anything left over?”
“Not my problem.” Lucian slid the coins into a drawer and held out his hand for the rest.
“I can’t—”
“Unless you’d rather serve out the rest of your sentence in a cell?”
Miria pulled the rest of the coins from the pouch on her belt and dropped them into Lucian’s waiting palm. The coins clinked together as he dropped them in the drawer with the others.
“I’ll see you next week, then.”
Miria slammed both of her palms down on the desk. “How long before I can go back to my old life? I’ve learned my lesson.”
Lucian chuckled. “Not about learning a lesson. It’s about repaying your debt for your victim’s medical care.”
She scoffed at the idea of Aeidan being a victim. “I’m sure he’s doing a great job of exaggerating his injuries just to spite me.”
“Your debt is 400 silvers. You’ll be working the mines for about a year. When your time is up, if you haven’t incurred any further fines, you can return to your old life.”
“This is bullshit. Why can’t I just work my old job at the pub and pay out of what I was making there?”
The vampire laughed again. “Well, maybe it is about teaching a lesson.”
“Fuck you.”
“Make that 409 silvers, then. I’d suggest you head home, unless you’d like to add on more weeks to your debt.” He scratched off the number at the top of her paperwork and added the nine extra coins to it.
Miria scowled, but she kept her mouth shut. There was no point in making the situation worse.
“Miria? Is that you?”
She spun around to face the holding cells along the back wall, where Marvin stood, hands clasped around the bars. His face was unwashed, his white hair wild and dirty.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, stealing a glance at Lucian.
“A vampire and an elf were murdered in my shop,” he said with a heavy sigh.
“Murdered?” she repeated.
Shit. She’d completely forgotten that had happened in his tent.
The warden raised an eyebrow. “Surely you heard about the murder in the market?”
“You can’t possibly think Marvin did that,” Miria said.
“We haven’t found the killer. As soon as we find the person responsible, we’ll be happy to let Marvin go.” Lucian leaned forward and folded his hands together on his desk. His eyes narrowed as he looked Miria over. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
Miria swallowed back the lump in her throat. “Of course not.”
“Where were you that night?” Lucian asked, his tone light and casual despite the implication. “It was your first day at the mines, wasn’t it? Where did you go afterward, I wonder?”
“Home,” Miria said through gritted teeth. “I was exhausted and fell asleep. Ask Azalea Nydira. We live together, and I’m sure she remembers everything that happened that night vividly.”
Lucian nodded and marked down a note on the parchment in front of him. “I’ll do that. Have a lovely day, Miria.”
Miria gave Marvin a final glance before leaving the watchtower. The door slammed behind her. She couldn’t help Marvin—not without revealing the truth. Still, seeing him behind bars pissed her off. She rushed down the stairs and back to the Third District, turning in the direction of the Silver Leaf.
Maybe Zephyr would know what to do. And if he didn’t, at least seeing him would help take the edge off.
She slid into a stool at the bar and waited until Zephyr walked out of the kitchen.
He leaned on the opposite side of the bar in front of her. “How’re you holding up?”
“Well, today sucked.”
Zephyr put his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“After work, I stopped by the watchtower to drop off my first weekly fine.”
“And?”
“And they’re expecting me to live on absolutely nothing for the next year. Every coin I earn is expected to go toward my fine.”
Zephyr finished wiping down a glass and set it next to the others behind the counter. “They have to realize—”
“That I won’t be able to survive long like this? Yeah. Seems like that’s what they’re counting on.”
Zephyr disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen. When he returned, he set a small loaf of bread in front of her.
Gods, she was starving. Her stomach growled, eager to accept the gift. Other than the meals Zephyr had been sharing with her, she hadn’t been able to afford anything to eat.
“I can’t keep accepting food from you,” Miria said, despite her stomach’s loud protestations. “I’m tired of being a strain on your savings.”
“You’re not a burden, Miria.” Zephyr cupped her face in his hand and leaned across the counter. His lips found hers, and for a moment, everything was right. The cruelty of the vampires and her time stuck in the mines—none of it mattered with Zephyr by her side. She could endure.
“But if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t pay for this,” he said. “So, you should probably eat it quickly, before Eldrin comes out.”
Miria tore into the loaf with her teeth. The bread was hard and stale, probably something Zephyr had swiped from the kitchen before it could be sent to the trash.
“Thank you,” she said, her words muffled by the dry bread that filled her mouth. The single, tiny loaf wasn’t nearly enough, but it appeased her growling stomach for the moment.
“That’s not all that happened when I went to the watchtower,” Miria said once she’d finished.
“Oh?” Zephyr leaned in closer.
“They have Marvin.”
“What did he do?”
“Absolutely nothing. They’re holding him because of the murder in the marketplace.”
“But he didn’t do that.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Miria ran a hand through her hair. “But I don’t know what to do about it. The only way I can save him is to turn myself in.”
“You can’t do that. They’ll execute you.”
“I don’t see what other options I have.”
> “Maybe that’s not the only way to save him,” Zephyr said.
Miria frowned. “What other choice is there?”
“We could blame someone else for it,” Zephyr said. “Make them think they caught the killer. Then they’ll let Marvin go, and you can go free, too.”
Miria tapped her fingers on the bar. “Who? Anyone we turn in will be executed.”
“What about Aeidan?”
She shook her head. “He was in the infirmary that night. He couldn’t have done it.” Awful as Aeidan was, Miria wasn’t sure she believed he deserved to die for her crime.
“There has to be someone else.” Zephyr poured her a drink and slid it across the bar.
“Are you really okay with someone else being executed to save me? Because I’m not.” Miria gripped the handle on the stein, but didn’t pick it up.
Zephyr opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. “I guess not,” he said finally.
Miria lifted the heavy cup and took a long drink. What happened that night at his apartment had changed things between them. There was something different about Zephyr now. Something told Miria he wasn’t being entirely honest, that he would happily sacrifice someone else if it meant saving her. The look in his eyes—defiant, serious, and possessive—confirmed as much.
He’d never acted like that before. When had he started feeling so strongly about her? She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She hated the idea that he would be willing to let someone else suffer for her sake.
Maybe it had been a mistake to explore beyond their friendship.
“We have to move up our escape plans,” she said, lowering her voice even though they were alone in the tavern. “We can try to get out, leave a note behind that it was me or something so they let Marvin go once we’re gone.”
“We don’t have escape plans.”
“Then we’ll figure it out. We have a sword. We can find a way to sneak through the districts and get out.”
“That’s not a plan.” Zephyr sighed. “I don’t know what you’re expecting that sword to do, but there are a lot more of the vampires than there are of us.”
“It’s better than nothing!”
“We have to wait until we have a real opportunity.”
Miria pushed the empty stein back toward Zephyr. “That would mean abandoning Marvin. He’s…not a friend, exactly, but he’s always been kind to Azalea and me. It’s not right.”
Zephyr stepped around the bar and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I can’t lose you now. Not now that you’re mine.”
Miria pulled away from him and scowled. “I’m not yours, Zeph. We fucked, and it was nice, but that doesn’t change the fact that someone else is suffering right now because of me.”
Hurt flashed across Zephyr’s face as he pulled away from her.
Eldrin emerged from the kitchen with a pan and a dirty rag in his hands. “Have you found out when you can come back to work?”
“About a year,” Miria said, grateful for the distraction. “A little longer.”
Eldrin whistled. “Well, that’s not so bad. Pity, though. If you ask me, knocking that little shit on his ass was a public service. Though, he’s been milking it for all it’s worth.”
“Has he been here? I thought he was still recovering at the clinic,” she said.
“Oh, yeah,” Eldrin said. “Stopped by yesterday looking pitiful as all the hells for a game a couple nights ago. I thought about banning him after how he treated you, but to be honest, we could really use the coin here now that the vamps have raised their rates on our alcohol imports.”
“I didn’t mention it because you’ve had enough to worry about without spending time thinking about that asshole,” Zephyr said, avoiding her gaze.
Eldrin chuckled, oblivious to the pain written on Zephyr’s features. “Boy thought getting a broken nose from a girl meant we’d all go easy on him. Wasn’t too pleased to find that we didn’t give a shit—especially since we like you better.”
“Wish I could’ve seen that.” Miria grinned.
“That reminds me—you should probably head home.” Eldrin hung the dish rag on a hook beneath the bar and wiped his hands on his pants.
Miria’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“We’ve got another game in about an hour, and he said he was planning on showing up. I figured you wouldn’t want to be here when he arrives,” Eldrin said.
“No,” Miria said. “I think I’ll stay.”
“Not a chance.” Eldrin scowled and crossed his arms.
“I’m not going to do anything stupid,” Miria said. “If I see him, I see him. I don’t regret a damned thing about what happened, but I’m not going to do it again.”
“And if he comes after you?”
Miria shrugged. “Then I’ll let him take a few swings at me so he’ll get stuck working in the mining tunnels, too.”
Eldrin and Zephyr exchanged a nervous glance.
Zephyr shook his head. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“I won’t stop you,” Eldrin said. “But just a hint of anything happening between the two of you, and I’ll kick you both out. The last thing I need is more attention from the guards. I won’t have any fighting in my tavern, understood?”
“Of course.”
Eldrin disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Miria alone with Zephyr once again.
“What money are you planning on using to buy in?” Zephyr asked.
“Considering I just donated the rest of my coins to the warden, none. I’m just sticking around to watch.”
“If you’re going to stick around to antagonize Aeidan, you should at least join the game.” Zephyr dug around in his pocket and dropped a handful of silver coins on the counter in front of her. He pulled back her hair and kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t lose.”
As he started to walk away toward the kitchen, Miria reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to her. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”
He squeezed her hand back, then pulled away. “It’s okay. I get it. We’ve been friends for a long time, but whatever this is between us, it’s new to both of us.”
“We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” Miria smiled. “Do you need help setting up for the game tonight?”
“Nah,” Zephyr said, returning her grin. “Leave that to the folks who actually work here.”
Despite the playful jab from Zephyr, Miria got to work pulling tables together and setting out chairs, just as she’d done for every game night while she worked at the Silver Leaf. She missed it—the familiar smells of Eldrin’s cooking and heavy smoke in the air. The mines reeked of sweat and dirt, of hopelessness. She missed the game nights, the easy laughter and companionship and friendly rivalries.
More than any of those things, she missed seeing Zephyr every day. Sure, she’d spent most of the week at his apartment, sharing his bed in the evenings, but there was something different about spending the day together at work. Something was still missing late at night when they held each other—the friendship they shared. That was what she missed.
When the players arrived and took their seats around the long table, Aeidan was not among them. Miria sagged back in her chair, letting herself hope that he wouldn’t show up at all. Maybe she’d be able to enjoy a fun night without worrying about a confrontation.
She could hope.
At least, until the door swung open once again, and Aeidan walked in. The bandage wrapped around his face covered his right eye, and the skin around his left eye was still covered in faded, yellow bruises. His nose was crooked and misshapen. His smirk was accompanied by a small, almost unnoticeable wince.
Almost.
Eldrin’s eyes flicked from Miria to Aeidan, then back again. “We’re here for a friendly game tonight, you two. No trouble.”
“No tr
ouble,” Miria agreed, holding eye contact with Aeidan’s exposed eye as she tossed her coins on the table in front of her. “Deal me in.”
Aeidan took a seat directly across from Miria and kicked his feet up on the table. “How’s it going at the mines, Miria? Surprised they let you into a place that serves food, all covered in dirt like that.”
“I’m surprised they let you out of the infirmary with the way you’re looking. Weren’t they able to get your nose back to normal?” she asked sweetly.
“No trouble,” Eldrin repeated, more insistent this time.
Miria raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry.”
“Dealing you in, too, Zephyr?”
“Not tonight. I’m just here to watch. I’m trying to save some money.” He pushed a chair next to Miria and put an arm around her.
“Trying to buy her way out of here?” Aeidan asked. “Might be more expensive now that she’s a tunnel rat. If the guards even let her leave.”
“If you’re looking for another round, we can settle it after this one.” She pointed at the deck on the table in front of Eldrin.
“Another word about it from either of you, and I’ll kick you both out and keep your bets,” Eldrin growled, slamming his fist on the table. He waited for them all to quiet down before he started flicking the cards around the table to the players.
Several uneventful rounds went by with coins shifting around the table between the players, one round going to Lux, another to Arel, and yet another to Ren. As her stack of coins from Zephyr dwindled, Miria’s heart sank. Aeidan’s presence, much as she hated to admit it, was tilting her, making every decision harder than it needed to be. And it didn’t help that every hand she’d been dealt so far was shit. If she was going to turn her fortune around, she needed to focus.
Eldrin dealt the next hand, and three of the players at the table peeked at their cards briefly before tossing them back to him. The fourth considered his for a few moments longer before doing the same, leaving only Aeidan and Miria left in the round. This, she could win. She peered over her cards, examining Aeidan’s expression. He bit his lip and looked nervously from Eldrin to his stack of coins to the backs of the cards in Miria’s hand, never looking up and meeting her gaze.
