Page 27

Auria and Tiernan exchanged a worried glance that made Saff want to wring their necks. Neither of them had attended Saff’s plea hearing or sentencing. As soon as the truth emerged about her forged accreditation, they’d cut her off.

“Pull up a pew,” said Nissa, though the words were strained.

“How are you all?” Saff asked too brightly, looking over at Auria and Tiernan as she slid into the booth.

Auria said nothing, her pixie-ish jaw clenched.

“Sorry, Saff, I can’t be here,” Tiernan mumbled. “My father would … You understand, don’t you? Take care of yourself.”

He climbed out of the booth, leaving behind most of his blossombeer, and left the tavern in a hurry.

Auria visibly squirmed. “I’m going to the bar. Another flamebrandy, Nissa?”

“Two,” said Nissa tautly. “One for Saff.”

Auria left a beat of chagrined silence, ensuring her disapproval was felt, then said, “Fine.”

Saffron tried not to betray how much the snubbing stung. After everything she’d just endured, this should not be the thing to break her.

Once Auria was out of earshot, Nissa’s clawed hand squeezed Saff’s beneath the table. “Are you alright?”

Saff nodded unconvincingly.

“What happened? Are you—”

“A Bloodmoon?” A stark image of Neatras’s dead body hit Saff like a physical blow. “I am. It’s done.”

“So what are you doing here, if you’re already compromised?” There was an edge of accusation to Nissa’s tone.

Anger stabbed at Saff’s temples, though she understood Nissa’s wariness. It had just been a long night.

“What I have to do to stay alive,” she said curtly, sliding out of the booth. “Excuse me.”

“No, Killor, wait—”

Saffron ignored Nissa’s protests and approached Auria, who stood straight-backed at the bar, focusing very hard on the dusty line of liquors.

“Auria,” Saff said, her toes curling inside her boots. The mental image of Papa Marriosan without his hands was seared into her skull.

Auria didn’t look at her. “Hi.”

“How have you been?”

“Good.” Her tone was pointedly flat. Saff struggled to reconcile it with the sunny, bright-eyed friend she knew so well. “Enjoying the posting.”

Saff swallowed hard, resting her elbows on the oak-carved bar. It was sticky with honeywine residue. “How are you healing? After the final assessment.”

She shrugged. “Well, I’m missing an ear. But the scars look more dramatic than they are.”

“Can they do anything about them?” As she said it, Saff regretted it. The marks were oddly beautiful, an ethereal cobweb over pale, freckled skin. She didn’t want to imply they were something that needed fixing.

“I don’t want them to,” Auria said, her teeth gritted. “It’s a reminder to do the right thing, even if it leaves a mark.” There was a loaded pause as she gestured to the barkeep. “Three flamebrandies.”

He nodded, pouring viscous amber liquid into cut-crystal tumblers.

Saff cleared her throat. “I have a favor I need to ask.”

“Do you think you’re in a position to ask for favors?”

“No,” Saff admitted. “And I’m sorry if you felt betrayed by the forgery. I just wanted to be a Silvercloak so badly, Auria. My parents—” Her hand went to the wooden pendant. “Anyway. I wouldn’t ask unless I needed it.”

At the mention of Saff’s parents, Auria softened a little. “Go on.”

Deep breath.

“I need you to look up a person for me.”

Actually, Saff needed Auria to find a person. But she would take this one thing at a time.

Auria stiffened like she’d been struck by an effigias curse.

“I can’t do that.” Auria absently fondled the silky fabric of her silver cloak.

“Please,” Saff pushed. “I need this information.”

Auria shook her head impenetrably. “I’m sorry. I can’t help.”

Saff understood Auria’s resistance—she wanted to be Grand Arbiter one day, to bring charges on behalf of the Crown, to shape mandates on what was good and right.

She had a Knight’s Scroll in Common Law and worked in the courts as a prosecutor before applying to the Academy.

Why would she throw all that away now? Why would she go against her own rigid moral code for something so trivial, for a publicly shamed friend she seemed embarrassed to know at all?

Auria was the kind of person who, when a loved one did or said something she didn’t like—something that challenged her shiny worldview—would rather end the relationship than try to understand or reconcile.

After arguments, she would give the cold shoulder for weeks or months or forever, cutting the antagonism clean out.

Self-preservation was the charitable explanation, but Saff often suspected it was to do with the desire for a perfect world, a perfect life.

Auria could not handle imperfect people.

So how could she convince Auria without explicitly saying their lives were on the line?

If Saff admitted she was here under duress, Auria would slip straight into Silvercloak mode, asking for details and possibly even pursuing a premature arrest of Levan Celadon—an arrest that would never stick to a charge, with the corrupt Grand Arbiter Dematus at the helm.

On the other hand, if she warned that Auria herself was in danger, Auria would take it as intimidation, and Saff would probably wind up in Duncarzus before the night was through. That charge would certainly hold up.

Time to spin yet another lie.

“My uncle is in trouble. I just need to know how much.”

Now Auria did return Saff’s gaze. “Is the person you’re looking for threatening him in some way?”

“I can’t share the details.”

“Well, your uncle needs to come to us, rather than sending you to elicit information illegally. I’d be happy to help him, Saff. You know we’re good at what we do.”

Please just take the Saints-damned bait, Saff screamed internally . “He won’t do that. He’s terrified.”

The barkeep slid the three drinks over the bar, and Auria passed him three ascens. “Then there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”

The words had a spine, and Saffron grudgingly respected them.

Still, she couldn’t go back out there and tell Levan she’d failed. Her connection to Auria was the only thing keeping her alive.

“Is there nothing I can do to convince you?” Saff pleaded.

Something dark came down behind Auria’s blue eyes. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

She almost spat the word bribe, as though it were the deepest insult she’d ever received. Auria was not particularly known for her venality.

“No!” Saff insisted. “Saints, no. I just … I’m desperate.”

Auria swallowed her flamebrandy in one gulp, winced at the burn, then said with an air of finality, “I’m going to find Tiernan.”

With a billow of her silver cloak, she left the Jaded Saint.