“A true mystery why,” Shay muttered.
Drina ignored her. “As useful as my gift can be, or Peanna’s, or your sister’s or any of our women, we are not an army unto ourselves. Not like you and Nadya. Not like the Cressian creature who somehow shares your blood. Our methods are extreme and need to be rethought, yes, but do not pretend that hounds and wolves are the same.”
Shay opened her mouth, but she found it hard to argue with Drina’s words, much as she disliked them. No Nomori woman, or man for that matter, could defeat a nivasi in a fair fight; if they could, Storm’s Quarry wouldn’t be overrun with Cressians soldiers at the moment.
“So why did you come here?” she said finally. “Why skulk around the smithy watching me? It wasn’t to tell me of my sister’s death. Do you think I’m going to go off like Gedeon?”
“I watch you because it is my duty to protect the Nomori, and I came here tonight because I had news and because…your emotions resonated.”
“My what?”
“You miss Nadya. I miss her as well.”
Shay looked at Drina as if she had sprouted wings. “You’ve done a poor job of showing it. Since she left, or before.”
Drina did not argue with her assessment. “I have done a poor job of many things.” She sighed again, and for the first time, the elderly Nomori woman looked ancient and tired. “I have made many mistakes, and I have little time left to rectify them. I have lost my only child.” Her voice hitched. “And I have pushed away my granddaughter. I hope to one day make right that wrong, if possible. And I pray to the Protectress every morning and every evening that she returns safely so I may do so.”
“Good,” Shay said, her voice thick with emotion. “I need her to. More than anything.”
Chapter Eleven
“You’ve never ridden a horse before, have you, Nadezhda?”
“Not everyone in Storm’s Quarry had a courtier’s upbringing, you know,” she snapped at the smugly grinning man beside her. Her gaze, however, remained fixed on the beast in front of her.
Horses were a rare sight in Storm’s Quarry. The space and upkeep they required made them a luxury only a few in the fourth tier could afford. Not only that, but their size made them far more of a nuisance on the narrow city streets than anything, and as someone raised in the lowest tier of the city, Nadya had only ever caught glimpses of the creatures as they pulled carriages that carried the wealthiest of the city’s elite.
The midnight gelding that stood before her looked nothing like the sleek mounts of the fourth tier. His coat was rough and shaggy, his mane clipped short and braided. Bits of wild grass speckled his fur. He raised his head from the sparse grass only once to blink at Nadya with liquid black eyes before returning to his meal.
She hadn’t expected the size. The creature’s shoulder stood at height with her head, and though she knew her strength could match the rippling muscle in front of her, her knees felt a bit weak.
The small trading outpost they had stopped at was a solitary place, its handful of thatched-roofed buildings nestled in the grasslands right beneath the foothills of the Stygian Mountains. Over the tall scraggly peaks of those mountains lay the Kingdom of Wintercress. Without a guide or knowledge of the terrain, it would be foolish to cross them alone, and so she and Levka were headed west toward the Brine of Lazuli. Or at least, they would be, once she had mounted her horse.
“You aren’t frightened of a horse, are you?” Levka swung himself up into the worn leather saddle with graceful ease.
Nadya bit her lip. “Of course not. I just don’t think it’s necessary. I can keep pace with a horse.”
She had never raced against one, but her nivasi blood gave her speed far greater than any normal person. The black gelding flicked his tail lazily, as if agreeing with her.
Levka laughed. “You think you can. Maybe for a few hundred paces you could keep up, but these creatures are bred for stamina.” He stroked the tightly braided mane of the chestnut mare. “We would leave you behind within an hour.”
The not-so-subtle taunt gave Nadya the courage she needed to spring upward, swinging her leg over the beast’s back. The horse didn’t flinch at all. Nadya tried not to squirm as she settled into the saddle. It was higher than she had anticipated, and her stomach lurched a bit when they started to walk, then trot. Eventually, Levka goaded his horse into a light canter, and Nadya closed her eyes and sent up a prayer. She tried to let herself be swayed into calm by the repetitive movement, but her mind was too distraught to listen. Several hours into their ride, her horse had to suddenly sidestep a sinkhole in the road, and she jerked upright, squeezing her legs against the beast’s sides.
The horse did not appreciate her sudden strength, giving a stern grunt and slowing to a walk.
“Goodness, be careful. We don’t want their owners to think these horses were appropriated by common thugs, do you?”
“Wait, you stole them?” Nadya yanked back on the reins, causing a sharp whinny from her mount. She patted his shoulder in apology while glaring at Levka’s back. “I thought you paid for them.”
Only a few thin tendrils of trust had built between them as they escaped the city together, Nadya leading the way and, as uncomfortable as it was, Levka watching her back. Now, several of those tendrils snapped, and she wondered if she had been right after all to agree to the former magistrate’s plans.
“With what coin? The Guard seized my manor and assets. I have nothing to my name, and what few coins the younger Isyanov gave you need be reserved for ocean passage.” Levka clicked his tongue, and the chestnut mare slowed to a stop. He looked back at Nadya. “We need to reach the coast and soon, before Wintercress gains more of a foothold in Storm’s Quarry. You cannot tell me you’ve never stolen for a greater good.”
She bit back an argument as she remembered breaking in to a physician’s office to get her mother medicine last year. The medicine hadn’t worked, only delaying the inevitable, but still she had done it.
“We are giving them back,” she said with a grimace.
Levka smiled broadly before turning back around and goading his mount into a trot. “Of course we will, Nadezhda. We aren’t common thieves, after all.”
* * *
Nadya had only been in Storm’s Quarry briefly, and half that time she’d spent unconscious, but already she missed the city. The grasslands they rode through felt wide and empty, with only a smattering of rocks and deer herds to provide any break to the yellow-green prairie. She missed the steep marble walls, the closeness that narrow streets and tall buildings brought.
When they rode up to one of the farms on the outskirts of the fishing village of Nim, they reined in their mounts and left them in a secure paddock; amidst the small herd of horses, theirs blended in seamlessly. Nadya had initially protested once again taking advantage of innocent folk, but Levka only rolled his eyes. “We’ll need the horses on the way back, Nadya. Unless you plan on dying in Wintercress. I certainly do not, and I’m not about to walk back to Storm’s Quarry.”
She had relented. As much as she hated to admit it, Levka was right.
The fishing town of Nim owed no allegiance to any nation. It sat nestled against the Brine of Lazuli, its collection of log houses and docks spreading out along the coastline like a flock of rock gulls. Although many nations through the world’s history had tried to claim Nim as their own, somehow the fishing town had stubbornly resisted. It was a neutral port of sorts, a place for ships that traded up and down the ocean’s coast to dock and their sailors to drink and rest. Nadya heard half a dozen languages during their first hour in town and saw hair that spanned the colors from honey to jet. In the bustling early evening, with the fishermen brought in their daily catch of crabs and silverfins, no one paid any mind to the Nomori and the Erevan who walked their streets.
“Hold on,” Levka said, putting a hand to Nadya’s arm. “Wait here.”
She glanced around. They stood on a street corner near the center of town. Behind them was a
bunkhouse, still empty of its nightly patrons, and across the knobbly cobblestoned road was a tavern. Its carved sign bore the name Tiny’s Alehouse. From where she stood, Nadya heard the whistles and chattering of patrons and smelled the rich oaty liquor. Nothing suspicious, she thought, and scanned the street again. Only travelers who kept their eyes to themselves and boisterous natives who called out to one another in greeting.
“Did you see something?” she whispered.
“Nothing so dramatic. I need you to wait here. I’ll be right back.” Levka stepped forward, but Nadya grabbed his arm. He struggled for a moment before turning to her and glaring. “What are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you,” she said, releasing him after a long moment.
“No, you’re not. There could be Cressians here, and while it isn’t unusual to see an Erevan outside of Storm’s Quarry, your people aren’t exactly common. We don’t want to raise any unnecessary questions.”
She heard the steady thumping of his heartbeat—he wasn’t lying—and nodded. “Fine, but at least tell me where you’re going.”
Levka gestured to the tavern. “To get a drink, of course.”
Nadya hated him so much in that moment.
While he slipped into Tiny’s Alehouse to buy his drink and put his plans into action, Nadya loitered awkwardly in the street. She was grateful the folk of Nim paid a stranger so little mind; indeed, it seemed a place full of those people who would be out of place anywhere else.
Her boredom and nerves got the best of her, and Nadya’s pacing took her up and down the street, following narrow alleys into dead ends and back out again. So preoccupied by her thoughts of Levka and what might await them in Wintercress was she that Nadya did not realize she had company until three men casually blocked her path out of one of the narrow alleyways.
Stars, why now? She cursed silently and glanced warily from face to face until one—scrawny with a gold ring in his ear—snarled in Erevo, “Give us your purse, lady.”
“You don’t want to rob me,” she said slowly, listening as two more pairs of boots approached from behind. “Trust me. You should leave.”
“Coin. All your coin. Now!” he barked and flashed a rusty dagger at her. Around him, the rest of the gang drew their weapons, a motley collection of knives, clubs, and one shovel.
Nadya inwardly cursed her luck. Nothing drew attention to a traveler like a fight, and these thieves weren’t about to leave her alone. She needed their coin to get to Wintercress, so giving it up to avoid trouble was not an option.
The scrawny thief seemed to think she was taking too long, so he lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. His last mistake.
Nadya grabbed ahold of his hand. Delicate finger bones snapped under her grip. He yowled, and she threw him backward, straight into the chest of one of his friends.
“Leave me alone,” she warned as hesitance gleamed in the eyes of the other two thieves. “Or you’ll get more of that.”
The faintest crunch of leather upon gravel—Nadya whirled around in time to catch the cutlass blade that arced toward her head. Her right hand stopped it midair, and the thief who was sneaking up behind her, a woman with the tight curls of the South Marches, stared in horror.
She wrenched the cutlass from the thief’s grasp. It clattered into a ditch ten paces away.
“Anyone else?” she said, turning to each of them. “Or will you leave me in peace?”
As if sharing the same thought, the gang of thieves turned and ran as one. Their footsteps faded in the direction of the docks, no doubt heading there to hole up and ready themselves for their next target.
“Damn luck,” she muttered, checking her tunic for stains. No blood had been spilled; her father would have been proud. “Just what I need, stars-cursed thieves trying for my coin.”
She froze as the words left her throat. It was a coincidence, wasn’t it, that she was attacked as she waited for Levka to conduct his business in the tavern? It had to be…
But even as she tried to reassure herself, a cold feeling enveloped her, as if someone had poured seawater down her back.
Nadya strode out of the alley, listening and watching for any sign of Levka. The streets were as busy as before, and no one looked twice at her. At least the commotion of the fight hadn’t caught anyone’s attention, but had that been its purpose?
She narrowed her eyes. “Damn magistrate,” she muttered, staring at the tavern door Levka had vanished through. Was he still there? Had he used the commotion to slip out and leave Nadya behind? He didn’t think a handful of thieves could take her out, did he?
Anger bubbled in her chest, but she clamped it down. Making a scene might bring the wrong kind of attention, and Levka hadn’t been wrong about wanting to avoid that.
She crossed the street, nearly cutting off a cart of fish and its irate handler, and entered the tavern. Tiny’s Alehouse smelled like piss and dead fish, and Nadya bit back a retch. No one looked at her, as most of the patrons were currently shouting at a very short man who stood atop a table, juggling a pair of tankards. She caught one of the barmaids, who, after being given a terse description of Levka, pointed her to a private room at the back of the tavern.
The door swung open at her touch, and room’s two occupants turned to look at her in surprise. Levka’s companion, a young man wearing a sailor’s coat with tarnished brass buttons, smiled, while Levka glared at Nadya.
“And this must be the lovely lady,” the sailor drawled in thickly accented Erevan. “Pleased to—”
“Out,” she growled at the young man, and something in her eyes must have betrayed her anger because his face drained of color and he walked out without another word, shutting the door behind him.
“Nadezhda, I told you to wait—”
She didn’t give him the chance to finish. In half a moment, she had crossed the room and grabbed ahold of his neck.
“What in the heavens?” he gasped as she pushed him up against the wall. Despite their height difference in his favor, his boots hung above the ground. “What are you doing? We’re on the same side, remember?”
“Are we?” she hissed. A nerve in her wrist throbbed. This felt eerily similar to the morning of the Blood Sun Solstice, when Nadya had strung Levka up in anger at his role in the bloodshed, only to be witnessed by her father. She shook the memory off. “Did you try to have me killed?”
Levka’s eyes flashed with surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“I just got ambushed by five armed thieves. Are you telling me you had nothing to do with it?”
“I did not.” His words were calm, and despite the bruises that spread across his neck like rivulets of purple ink, he showed no fear. “Put me down, Nadya, and we can speak like civilized people.”
Nadya took a deep breath. He weighed nothing in her grip, and yet she felt like stumbling backward under his composed words. She lowered him to the ground. He staggered out of her grasp and leaned against the wall.
“Have you gotten bloody stronger?” He cursed, losing his calm expression and putting one hand out in front of him, as if to fend her off. His other hand went to his throat. “Give me a moment to breathe, please.”
“I’m…” She wasn’t sorry, not exactly. Not until she knew for certain that he wasn’t responsible for the attack.
“You’re a monster.” His matter-of-fact words stung hard, and Nadya opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Don’t try to argue it, because it does not matter. You might be a monster, but Storm’s Quarry was taken by another, more powerful one. You are needed to fight the Cressian nivasi, and so I don’t much care about your monstrous nature. In fact, it is preferable given the current circumstances.”
Levka straightened and brushed off his rumpled tunic. “Let me make it clear—I did not send a bunch of common thugs after you. I might be a lot of things, but utterly incompetent is not one of them. And I have never underestimated you. If I wanted to take you out, it wouldn’t have been with a gang of thieves.”<
br />
She hated the truth that rang in his words. Could it have been just a coincidence? She was a young woman traveling in an unfamiliar land, unaccompanied at the time. She would have looked an easy target. Maybe it had been a random encounter, and nothing more. “Fine,” she said finally. “You didn’t do it.”
“That’s it? A stating of the obvious and no apology?”
“I hate you,” Nadya added, unwilling to apologize for a reasonable misunderstanding, but the bite had left her words.
“Then we feel the same about each other.” Levka cleared his throat. “Now if you’re done assaulting me for the time being, I suggest we go find some lodging before we draw more unwanted attention.”
They had coin enough for a single room at the bunkhouse, and despite Nadya’s vehement argument that she could sleep in the stable, Levka did not budge. “You won’t find any answers without me, and if I am slain in the night by Cressian soldiers, the fall of Storm’s Quarry will be on your head.”
Reluctantly, she agreed.
The portly matron of the establishment gave them a toothy smile as she showed them up the rickety stairs to a line of doors. “This one’s yours,” she said, unlocking the nearest door. It swung open with a creak to reveal a single bed with a thin straw mattress and nothing else but dust. “Have a good’un,” the matron said cheerfully as she trotted back downstairs.
Nadya and Levka stared at the bed.
“You take it,” she said.
“I’ll have it,” he said at the same time.
She rolled her eyes but stole a scratchy blanket from the bed and made herself comfortable on the floor as close to the wall as she could. The floor was hard and cold, but Nadya didn’t care much. The day’s traveling and subsequent fight left her tired enough to sleep anywhere. She lay down and closed her eyes.
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