Page 59 of A Tower of Half-Truths

He scoffed. “Is it really murder when the man already has both feet in the grave? Besides, why do you care? You barely knew the bastard.”

“It was the principle of it, Nel. A principle I thought we both shared.” She dropped her voice; their argument had prompted some glances in their direction. She leaned forward, placed her palms flat against the table. “We never kill for profit—even if it makes the job more ‘efficient.’ ”

Now that she knew the truth of that night, the man sitting across from her wasn’t charming or conniving.

He’d all but admitted that shooting her hadn’t been an act of malice, but the equivalent of a child throwing a tantrum.

Why had she been so afraid of him? With newfound resolve, she barreled ahead.

“So, what’s the point of all this? After giving me my dagger and a cup of whatever this shit is, you hope that, in return, I’ll come running back to your bed? Is that it?”

He snorted. “Hardly. I’ve moved on. So have you, from what Vilk told me. That bloke you were cozying up with at the Night Market…was he your lover, or just another mark?”

“That’s none of your godsdamned business.”

Neldren chuckled. “Lover, then. We’ll see how long that lasts.” He sipped from his cup as Mavery narrowed her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He blinked at her, then threw back his head with barking laughter. A few of the nearby patrons shot him dirty looks. As his laughter subsided, he took in her incredulous look, and a similar one spread across his face.

“Well, fuck me twice on Finisday! You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“At the first sign of conflict, you toss aside your lovers like a broken plaything, then you’re off to find a new one. This is what you’ve always done, Mave. You and that fickle heart of yours.”

Her blood and arcana flared in unison. “I’m the fickle one? After all the times you’ve left me over the—”

Porcelain rattled as Neldren slammed his fist on the table. Mavery flinched. The couple sitting at the table closest to them scampered away.

“No, Mave. It was always you who left me! The first time, you snuck off in the middle of the night after I told you to leave the Dragons. You returned six months later, only to leave again when we disagreed on how to split our cut for a job—”

“You wanted a finder’s fee, even though I was the one who—”

“Then, when you got tired of playing house with that Fenutian girl—”

“She left me to go fight in a godsdamned war!”

“In any case, you slithered your way back into my bed again.”

Mavery laughed coldly. “From what I recall, you didn’t hesitate when you slithered your way back into me.”

“It’s been the same thing over and over and over again since the night we first met.” He shook his head. “Do you even remember how many times you’ve left?”

“I don’t—”

“Eight times, Mave.” He pounded the table again. “You’ve left me eight fucking times in eighteen years! Admit it: you’ve only ever seen me as your backup plan.”

This time, she did not flinch. She clenched her fists, set her jaw. “Don’t you dare put the blame on me. Not when you always welcomed me back with open arms—just like you did three months ago.”

“You’re right, I did. I was an idiot then, but—”

“Sir, you’re causing a disturbance to the other guests,” said the constable who’d just approached their table. Though he appeared a pustule-faced schoolboy, his tone was authoritative and laced with contempt. “I must ask you to leave.”

Mavery crossed her arms and threw Neldren a smirk.

“That goes for you, too, ma’am,” the constable said. “I have half a mind to fine you both for unvirtuous conduct. Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today.”

“Lucky for you, mate, I was just leaving,” Neldren said.

With a teeth-aching scrape of metal against stone, he pushed back his chair.

Mavery expected him to disappear into the shadows, but he walked westward—the same direction she was headed, unfortunately.

She pushed back her own chair and gathered up her bag.

“Bloody gray-skins,” the constable muttered.

Neldren sauntered down the street, keeping to the tree-lined side where the shadows were most abundant.

Mavery silently cursed his slow pace, though she was unlikely to get around him.

They’d sat at the café long enough for the blisters on her feet to fully develop, and this new bout of movement rubbed her skin raw.

At least it distracted her from her other bodily aches.

“Reminds me of old times,” Neldren said, not bothering to turn and look at her as he spoke.

“Which part? Arguing in public, or getting kicked out of the local watering hole?”

“Didn’t the two always go hand in hand?”

“True,” she said, and they shared a laugh.

“Though I don’t remember ever getting booted from a ‘watering hole’ as posh as that one.”

“First time for everything,” Mavery said, wincing. The pain had grown intolerable. She leaned against a tree, prised off her right boot, and nearly cried out from relief. As she changed back into her well-worn boots, Neldren approached.

“Didn’t you say you were leaving?” she asked. She finished tying her laces, then peered up as he loomed over her.

“After all my talk about doing things the ‘proper’ way, I never actually got around to it.” He extended his hand. “Mave, I’m sorry for everything that happened back in Burnslee.”

Mavery eyed his hand skeptically as she stood upright. “You’ll need to be more specific than that.”

“I’m sorry for letting my anger get the better of me, for shooting you, for taking your cut—”

“And losing my cut.”

“Fuck, she told you about that?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“I’m sorry for being so shit at cards, I lost your cut.

And, last but not least, I’m sorry for skipping town before I had the chance to apologize when it mattered the most. I mean it, Mave.

If I could go back to that night, I would do everything differently.

By the Five-Eyed Mother, I swear it on the memory of Selayne Fel’Danla. ”

“But you’re not religious, and you hated your actual mother.”

“Like I said, I’m trying to do this proper.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, then gave his hand the most cursory shake. “Apology accepted.”

This was far from the first time they’d reconciled, though something about this one felt different.

Final. She thought back to every disagreement that had led to every breakup.

Whether by happenstance or by following rumors that carried his name, she and Neldren had always had a knack for finding each other again.

He’d always been the one constant in a life where nothing was permanent.

But there had been some truth to his words back at the café.

Neither of them could give what the other desired most. For Neldren, someone who could give him loyalty through feast and famine.

For Mavery, someone with whom she could avoid famine entirely.

“And I’m sorry for making you feel like a backup plan all these years.”

He shrugged. “Looking back on it, we were never a good fit. Like…trying to use a key in the wrong lock. Every time we were together, it was like filing off another tooth until we were left with a skeleton key. Eventually, we made it work, but only after causing a lot of irreversible damage.”

For a brief moment, Mavery found herself unable to speak. “That was surprisingly poetic, coming from you.”

“What can I say? Now that it’s just me and Ellice, I’ve had to get better about using my words.

” He glanced away as a somewhat sheepish look spread across his face.

“After she learned the truth of what happened that night in Burnslee, I’d never seen her so furious.

And that’s saying a lot. Bringing you to the café, giving you a proper apology… All of that was her idea, actually.”

Mavery raised her brows. “Really? I thought she hated me.”

Neldren shook his head. “It was never personal; she only hated how I went back to my old ways the minute I saw you across that tavern a few months back. But now that all of that’s behind us, would you consider joining up again? Strictly as business partners this time.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. Look, I’ll be frank.” He hung his head, crossed his arms. “Since losing you and then Itri, it’s been a struggle. Ellice’s talents and my contacts have only gotten us so far. Our crew could really use a wardbreaker, and I can’t think of anyone better than—”

“No.”

He looked up. There was a desperation in his eyes that she’d not seen in a very long time. “Think of the bigger picture, Mave. We head to a place where a single guild doesn’t control everything. Durnatel, for instance. Just imagine, in a city like that, all the money we could—”

“I’m out, Nel.”

Annoyance flickered across Neldren’s face.

There had once been a time when Mavery would have let this man convince her to do almost anything.

Now, the only thing she desired was to return to the apartment filled with teacups, alchemical supplies, and old books—and the man who she’d decided was more precious to her than any amount of money.

“I’m not going back to that life,” she said. “I’m trying to build something of a new life here in Leyport.”

“Does this ‘new life’ involve your Night Market companion?” When she nodded, he raised an eyebrow. “Must be one hell of a bloke, to convince you to stay in fucking Leyport, of all places.”

“He is,” she said, and her face warmed.

“I see.” He frowned. “Well, I need to go. I’ve got some other debts to settle before leaving town.”

Neldren turned on his heel and vanished into the shadows, leaving behind only a faint scent of arcana-tinged ash.