Page 57

Anya

I awoke to a distant wail—one I knew, one I feared.

It wasn’t the howl of a hound, nor the screech of an owl. It wasn’t livestock or evening travelers or the foxes that lived along the forest’s edge.

No —it was the whine of monsters.

Idris was already moving, pulling on pants, and lifting Halgren off its mount above our bed.

I lifted my magic to the other rooms of the Possum, hearing the soft snores of guests, as well as the shush of pages from Hattie reading. In two more days, my best friend was bound for the capital for a long-awaited apothecary apprenticeship; she’d been studying constantly since she got the letter of approval.

I extended my hearing further, into the peaceful stables where Briar and guests’ horses were nibbling the remnants of their dinners with unbothered steadiness. Outside, the woods behind the Possum were silent, as if the nocturnal creatures there were listening, waiting, just as I was.

“Stay here,” Idris whispered as he hurried for the door.

“Not on your life.” I flung back the covers, shrugged into a heavy dressing gown, and patted Wicker’s sleepy head on the way out.

Then I was rushing from our toasty room into the chilly hallway, following Idris barefoot down the stairs. The third step up from the bottom squeaked underneath my weight, and I made a mental note to have him help me fix it. These days, it was rare for me to repair anything on my own. With my plate full as ever at the Possum, Idris had gratefully stepped in as the town’s handyman, and in the four months since my return, the town had already grown accustomed to sharing the load more fairly.

The downstairs was empty and cold; I’d extinguished the hearth hours ago.

Though Idris held the sword, I pushed past him toward front door, yanking it open. This was still my establishment, after all. A harsh spring air gusted inside, ruffling my hair. A woman stood on the doorstep.

Her eyes were doe-like, but the rest of her was all sharp angles and lethal grace. She had a thin white scar through her upper lip. Wavy black hair. Tawny skin. Sharp cheekbones. A cocky, confident stance.

A Valiant Knight.

If there was any room for doubt in her physical countenance, the scratched-up breastplate, and the sword in her grip—unsheathed, dripping black blood onto my decking—confirmed it.

“Mariana,” Idris said, wedging himself in front of me to face the newcomer. “What are you doing here?”

Mariana’s gaze flicked to me.

“Speak,” Idris insisted.

Mariana leveled her gaze on Idris again. “Is it true your Fate is untold?”

He stiffened. “My Fate is here.”

“Not what I asked.”

Idris inclined his head toward her sword. “Are there more nearby?”

It heartened me to hear his concern for Waldron. It was the same thing I was wondering.

“No,” Mariana confirmed, and my shoulders relaxed an inch. “Now, my question.”

“No offense, Mariana, but I am disinclined to let a knight such as yourself—”

I pushed Idris to the side. “I’m the proprietor here,” I reminded them both, “and we’re letting in all the cold. So, unless you plan on murdering us, maybe it’s best you come inside?”

A wry smile pulled at Mariana’s lips, but even with a touch of warmth in the expression, she appeared rather sinister. “Anya. You look better than the last time I saw you.”

I angled my body to the side, beckoning her in. “I have no recollection of you, but I know who you are, Mariana.”

“Should I be concerned?” she asked Idris.

“Yes,” he and I responded.

“Leave the weapon outside,” I added, “I don’t need that sludge on my floor.”

To my surprise, the Valiant Knight acquiesced, leaning her sword against the doorframe before entering. She did offer Idris a little snarl as she passed, and I had to admit I didn’t despise her sass.

I circled round the bar and pulled a bottle off the shelf, pouring three glasses of amber. When Hattie appeared from upstairs, a dubious expression pulling at her sleepy features, I grabbed a fourth glass.

Idris took a seat beside Mariana at the bar, resting Halgren on the counter with a loud clatter. “Start talking.”

“Not in mixed company,” Mariana said, eyeing Hattie as she circled round the bar to stand beside me.

Hattie looked to me, her face morphing from confusion to question—as if she wasn’t sure whether to be afraid of Mariana or curious. I offered her a quick little shrug, and—seemingly bolstered—Hattie swiveled round to face Mariana across the bar.

“You can’t kick me out of my own home,” she said.

“Want to bet?” Mariana said.

Hattie flushed—cowed but also indignant.

“Enough,” Idris said at length. “Tell us what you want or go.”

Mariana eyed Hattie again.

“I heard it,” I cut in. “What you did just now.”

“So did I,” Hattie said, realization forming on her face. “Should I get the salve?”

“I’m uninjured,” Mariana said, not without an edge of pride in her tone. “This isn’t about that, although that is not…irrelevant to why I’m here.”

She was speaking carefully in Hattie’s presence. It reminded me of the way Idris had spoken when he was still Oath-bound. So much hidden behind vague words. I was glad to be past that with Idris, but Hattie was safer not knowing specifics.

“Your Fate is untold—yes or no?” Mariana insisted to Idris and me.

“Yes, yes,” I said. “At least as of the last time we checked. What of it?”

“There are more like that—like you,” Mariana said. “I’m here with a request.”

“Who are you to request anything of us?” Idris asked, gripping his glass of liquor so hard I feared he’d shatter it.

I met his eyes, took a deep breath, willing him to do the same. He did.

“I’m just your brother’s former lover,” Mariana taunted.

When Idris had told me about the Valiant Knights who’d jumped him in an alley, only to later clear our path after the pool, he’d failed to mention that particular detail.

I reached for the glass in Idris’s hands—about to lift it out of harm’s way—but he took the hint. He tossed back the liquid, then set it aside.

“You’re testing his patience,” I said to Mariana—cooly. “And mine, for that matter. What’s the request?”

Mariana threw back her own drink, finishing it in one gulp as Idris had. “Next time the Mirrors come to town, keep an eye out for other blank Fates. Don’t trust anyone who doesn’t show a future.”

A strange look ghosted over Hattie’s features, and she finished her drink as well. “Why not?” she asked, her tone overly casual. My friend had always had a clear vision in both Mirrors—but did she know someone who didn’t?

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Mariana said to me, then pushed away from the bar.

“Not looking for a bed?” I asked.

She shook her head, tension forming beside her doe-eyes. “My place is out there.” She said it like she meant it, but I wasn’t sure that in her heart she did. “Remember my mercy—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Idris interrupted, showing her to the door.

Once the other knight was gone, Idris turned back toward Hattie and me, his face pale.

“What was that about?” I asked him, hoping his lack of Oath would allow him to explain what Mariana could not.

But my love merely shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s what concerns me.”

From beside me, my best friend swallowed thickly. “I might have an idea.”