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“You passed out on us,” I add. “We didn’t have many options.”

“How far away from Lirasu are we?” Kellyn wants to know.

I fear he means to back out and leave us on our own, but we can’t lie to him. He’d figure it out eventually when we reach our destination.

“An evening’s hard ride,” Temra says.

“Left in a hurry, did we?”

“Yes, we need to reach Thersa with haste.”

“And we’ll add in a bonus once we get there,” I say. Goddesses, but I hate that we have to rely on so many strangers. Still, a little monetary incentive can’t hurt if Kellyn’s on the fence about this.

There’s a nerve-racking silence as we wait to see what the mercenary will do.

“I’m a man of my word,” he says at last. “If I agreed to take you to Thersa, then that’s what I’ll do.”

He treads off a ways.

“Where are you going?” Petrik asks him.

“To take a piss. Is that all right with my employers?”

No one says anything, and Kellyn disappears into the thickness of the trees.

I sidle up next to Temra. “For a moment, I thought he’d abandon us.”

“Remember, his kind will do anything for the right price. Quick thinking about the bonus.” She nudges her shoulder against mine.

“We make a pretty good team,” I say.

“Yes, we do,” Petrik says, and we both just stare at him. “What? I was feeling left out.”

“It’s time to put your cooking skills to the test,” Temra says. “Why don’t you get started while we make a fire? Then we’ll decide whether or not you’re worth the trouble.”

Petrik has sausages sizzling over a frying pan, eggs scrambled from a nearby pheasant nest I spotted, and mint tea boiling in no time. His cooking skills weren’t exaggerated.

Kellyn bites into some fire-heated toast, before asking, “What exactly is the connection between you all? You’re sisters, right? Your faces have the same shape. But who’s this guy to you?”

Petrik introduces himself. “I’m working on a book, exploring the known magics of the world. Miss Ziva is kind enough to answer questions about her specialty on the road.”

“And you’re wearing a dress because…?”

Petrik glares at the man. “These arerobes. I was trained at the Great Library of Skiro. And I’ll have you know I am a leading expert on ancient magics.”

“And just how many people are in your field?”

The faintest red hue appears on Petrik’s brown cheeks. “I don’t recall the exact number.”

“You sure? Because I’d bet you could count them on one hand.”

I intervene. “You’re being awfully rude.”

I regret the words instantly, because Kellyn turns those big brown eyes on me, making my heart do a traitorous flip. “Being nice costs extra.” He offers me a small grin. “I’m kidding. The man talks a big game; I just wanted to know how much of an expert we were dealing with. Sounds to me like someone just has a big head.”

“Says the man who named his sword Lady Killer,” Petrik grumbles.

Kellyn gives the scholar a startled look.