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“VEDERA OF THE CASTLEWOOD. I AM LOOKING FOR CORAYNE AN-AMARAT.”

Garion kept at it even after Charlie’s voice died, his throat raw from shouting. They had not reached the river yet but stopped at a quiet stream for the evening. The landscape changed little. Trees, trees, and more trees, butit was a good place to sleep. Charlie ignored the freezing temperature to plunge a hand into the stream and drink greedily. The snowmelt water was a balm on his burning throat.

“To the tomb with this,” Garion finally said, his voice low and rasping. He sounded like a ghoul raised from the grave.

“Fine,” Charlie rasped back, glad to be finished with such foolishness.

To his relief, Garion began the work of building a fire, so Charlie set to making a small camp as much as he could. He laid out their cloaks and furs, creating a nest in the hollow of a tree. Neither spoke for a long while, grateful for the silence.

Garion roasted a pair of rabbits for their dinner, meager as they were, starved by winter. As he gnawed on a greasy bone, Charlie dreamed of better days. A little table in the sun outside a Siscarian taverna, a glass of pale red wine in hand. Or warm bread, fresh from a bakery on the banks of the Riverosse in Partepalas. Even venison, roasted and seasoned by Andry Trelland’s careful hand. Eaten hot in the foothills of the Wolf’s Way, with nothing but stars above him. His Companions alive and arguing in their usual way.

“Do you have any other less... noisy ideas?” Garion whispered, tossing his bones into the undergrowth. He took a greedy pull from his waterskin.

Charlie chose his words carefully, trying not to speak too much. He gestured to his saddlebags, his papers and pots of ink inside.

“I can’t exactly forge my way out of this one,” he said softly.

Garion’s face tightened, the firelight glowing in his eyes. “I can’t fight it either.”

A corner of Charlie’s mouth lifted. “For once we’re equally useless.”

They shared an easy smile over the fire. Despite the circumstances,Charlie wondered if this wasn’t a dream too. He stared at Garion a while longer, looking for a shadow, a flaw, an impossibility. Any indication all this was just a delusion, or the wanderings of a dead man.

Garion read his thoughts easily. “I’m real, church mouse,” he said, his voice almost lost entirely. “I’m here.”

Heat spread across Charlie’s cheeks and he looked away, spitting a piece of gristle on the ground.

“I take it back. I’m not useless. I can cook, at least,” he said sharply, dispelling the tension. “Under proper circumstances.”

Leaning back on his elbows, Garion rolled his flashing eyes. He sprawled against his cloak and furs, leaving ample room beside him. A lock of dark hair fell over his brow in a disturbingly lovely way.

“We didn’t exactly have cooking lessons back at the citadel.”

He grinned when Charlie stood, closing the short distance between them.

“Another strike against Lord Mercury,” Charlie said, laying down next to him. Together, their warmth made the freezing air almost comfortable.

Garion took another sip of water, wetting his throat. “He sent me forth with the same contract as the others. To kill Corayne an-Amarat and any who stand in the way.”

Corayne.Her name tore through Charlie’s mind, still a searing wound.

“I suppose Mercury owes me some gold. I all but killed her too,” Charlie hissed. “Leaving her to die.To burn.”

He turned Garion’s words over in his mind.Sent forth with the same contract as the others. Meant to kill Corayne. And her Companions too.

“How long have you been tracking us?” he finally said.

Again, Garion’s lips twitched, twisting into a pained frown. Charlie saw shame in him still, and something else beneath.

“Since you arrived in Vodin weeks ago,” Garion said. “Her death was bought many times over, a glorious contract for any Amhara.”

“Well, now there are twelve Amhara less than there used to be,” Charlie said flatly.

Garion’s eyes went wide, his beautiful face torn, weighing the implication. “Luc and the others found you first?”

For Charlie, Garion was far easier to read than Sorasa. His skill lay with the sword, not subterfuge or scheming. Garion was a weapon in Mercury’s hand, while Sorasa was his snake. Venomous and willful.

Charlie tried not to think of her, burned with the rest.