Gavin

This was not how I preferred to spend my evenings. I’d rather be trading barbs with Marin than trailing Bowen through a back alley toward some sleazy tavern. But he’d tracked down the lead I gave him, and it brought us to this seedy part of the kingdom.

I was ready for answers, fueled with the need to uncover who had betrayed Marin. Cass had her theory, but I knew better. The marauders were an easy target. Evil people do evil things, sure. But this wasn’t that simple. Cass couldn’t admit it might have been one of us.

I didn't want to admit it either. Knowing the truth wouldn't change what happened. But pain was pain. I'd had Bowen to pull me out, and I'd hated it then. Still… what if I'd let it drag me under and Marin had come back to a grave?

Cass's voice echoed in my mind: We had a great thing, the five of us, and we let it fall apart.

The fact that we were here, in this rundown den of cruelty, was proof of that.

The air reeked with rot and decay, and shadows concealed unsavory transactions, burying the bones of those who’d fallen victim to them.

It was also the perfect place to disappear, or make someone else disappear.

Thankfully, it was still early, and the worst this area had to offer was likely still passed out, sleeping off last night’s corruption.

“Marin actually agreed to take you with her?” Bowen shot me a side-eye glare, stomping through a grimy puddle. “I didn't see that coming. And then you told her you were only going for the money. What is wrong with you?”

Better question, what wasn’t wrong with me?

I’d taken my aggression out on the roof after she left, hammering nails as if I could drive the demons out of me. The ones that welcomed her stinging insults because they came with her fire.

Marin hated me. Lacked trust. And yet, I’d had to force myself to stay still, jaw locked as heat licked up my spine. Because she’d tried to hide it, but her gaze had dipped low, trailing over me, slow and searing.

She wasn’t unreachable.

And I’d never felt more certain I could win her over. Find the shard. Fix everything.

Finally, get what I’d always wanted.

A cat screeched across our path, dragging me back to reality. Its low hiss sounded like a warning as it bolted into the shadows. I rolled my shoulders, shaking out the tension as we kept walking.

“You’re the one who said she wouldn’t trust me to tell her the truth. And you were right. Letting her believe what she already expected made sense at the time.” I exhaled sharply. “If I told Marin how I felt, she'd laugh in my face. Call me a liar. Let me keep a sliver of pride.”

We stopped at the end of the alley, the tavern lights glowing across the street. I elbowed Bowen in the ribs.

“Don’t act like you took some moral high road before you married Liana.” I gave him a dry look. “You kept secrets from her for months. You fell into the wretched pit of miscommunication first. I’m just the one currently stuck in it.”

Bowen gave a sympathetic nod and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Take it from me and don’t dig yourself any deeper. Lies add up fast and become their own weapons. We already know Marin’s not afraid to use her dagger. Don’t give her any more.”

“Solid advice,” I mumbled as we crossed the street and entered the tavern.

The room was crowded even at the early hour. The tables were full of men playing cards, drinking, or making plans, their voices low over some of the more raucous laughter.

“Over there.” Bowen motioned toward a table in the back, where a man was slumped forward, his head on the tabletop. A large mug of ale rested in front of his nose. “They say he shows up in the afternoon and stays until the barkeep has to toss him into the street at closing.”

A heavy weight settled inside my chest. He looked like me two years ago. Waiting to be tossed out, hoping to find pity at the end of someone else’s blade.

“We should have come here sooner,” I said, watching as the man fumbled for his mug. He spilled more ale than he drank, the liquid drenching the papers scattered across the table.

“I know. We should have done a lot of things differently.”

The man rubbed his bleary eyes as we approached, gathering his notes into a messy pile as we settled into the chairs across from him.

“Hey, Reid,” I said, waving away the barmaid who’d sidled up to the table.

“Gavin? Bowen? Is that really you?” Before the barmaid could act, Reid slammed his palm onto the table. “A round for my friends! We used to be the best treasure-hunting crew in all the kingdoms!”

Bowen shook his head, and the barmaid listened, weaving between the tables to give us space.

“Why did you do that? I could’ve used some more.” He squinted into the bottom of his mug. “Damn thing is always empty.”

Reid’s hair was long and greasy, his clothes ripped and stained, hanging loose on his rangy frame. The spectacles he wore had a thin crack running through one of the lenses. The overly starched, sharp scholar was long gone. All that was left were his research and a pen sitting in a pot of ink.

I ran a hand over my jaw. I didn’t need to ask why. Regret was the only thing still living inside this man.

“How long has it been?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“A long time,” Bowen said. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know, this and that. I write for the Gazette now. It's a living—barely,” he muttered, jabbing his thumb onto his stack of papers. “I’m working on a new feature. I’ve got the pulse of these streets, and my next story is going to be huge. They can't stop me from revealing the truth.”

I glanced at his papers, then around the tavern, unease tensing the muscles in my shoulders. Reid must have been too drunk to notice the man in the shadows who hadn’t taken his eyes off us since we sat down. I nudged Bowen’s chair with my foot and angled my head.

“Yeah, I see him,” Bowen murmured. “Let’s wrap this up and get him out of here.”

Reid tossed back the rest of his drink. “Leave? But you just arrived, and you haven’t mentioned why you’re here. Are you planning another hunt?” His voice dropped low, heavy with interest.

“No. Not another hunt. We’re here because Marin’s back,” I gauged his reaction. “She’s not dead.”

Reid flinched, and his pallid skin lost the last of its color.

“How is that possible? It’s been years. All this time I thought I’d…” His eyes lost their focus as he trailed off. Reid’s head lolled to the side, and his words slurred. “I never should have listened to that witch.”

My fingers clenched into fists, and I forced them under the table. Reid was my friend. He was one of us. But I feared that wouldn’t be enough to hold me back.

“What did you do, Reid?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice even. “On the ship, and before that, in the treasure chamber?”

Reid rocked forward, the heels of his hands pressing into his temples. “The witch promised me no one would get hurt. But I knew better.”

I swallowed hard, fingers digging into my thighs.

Bowen’s hand rested on Reid’s shoulder. “Tell us what happened. We’re not here to punish you. We only want the truth.”

“Punish me?” Reid’s voice cracked. “You couldn’t, possibly. Marin was my friend, and I betrayed her for information. Words! I killed Marin for a story.”

The air shuddered out of my lungs. “Start from the beginning.”

Reid’s face contorted, but he nodded. “That night you paid the witch for the map, I saw you leave her room. She wanted you to stay, offering you more than just the map, but you pushed her away. It was stupid, but I was jealous. A beautiful woman like that, and you didn’t even want her.”

I stiffened. I remembered him too, the glint of his spectacles in the candlelight, the way he lingered by the stairs.

I'd seen Reid.

But I'd been too busy thinking about finding Marin. Maybe getting a drink, maybe just walking the night market before we set off for the cavern in the morning.

I never found Marin that night. And I turned a blind eye when it mattered most.

“Keep going,” I said, the failure knifing under my ribs.

Reid swallowed. “I knocked on her door. She made me an offer. Me. No one ever looks twice at me, but she did. And with the knowledge she promised, everyone would finally know my name.”

He pulled off his spectacles and wiped his eyes.

“At first, all she asked me to do was bring her the comb, and I found it in the treasure room right where the witch said it would be. It was so easy. But when I brought it to her the night before we left, the offer changed. She refused our bargain unless I gave the comb to Marin on the ship.”

Bowen's jaw tightened beside me. I couldn't breathe.

Reid hung his head. “I should have refused. Finding Incantus should have been enough, but by then, I’d lost my notebook in the hot spring. All my research, everything I'd worked for, gone in an instant. I was drunk and desperate.”

He stared into the bottom of his mug, his voice low.

“So I agreed to the deal. The witch said it had to be a gift. I didn’t ask why.

But I needed a reason to make it one. Sure, Marin and I were friends, but why would I give her jewelry like that?

She might have refused. It had to come from you.

So when I saw the note and the box you left her, I took my chance. ”

“What happened to what was in the box?” I asked quietly.

Reid’s red-rimmed gaze held mine. “I still have it.”

My eyes closed. Something twisted sharply inside my chest. I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“I’m sorry, Gavin! I should have come clean, but I didn’t know how.

Everything happened so fast. Then we were back here, and we lost the treasure.

We were ruined! And in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to use what the witch gave me.

When we went our separate ways, the truth didn’t seem to matter anymore. ”

“It mattered,” I said.