Chapter 5 #3
“Why do you want to know?” Carrick retorted
“Usually when someone asks a question, the other person answers it. I believe you are instead asking another question.” Faron raised his brow, the picture of nonchalance and unbothered by their thin layer of hostility.
He finished the pint and set it down. “I would hope that my attempt at rescuing the child is evidence enough that I have only the best intentions.”
Egan spoke up this time, “Usually an answer to a question is expected to be direct rather than skirting around the issue. And you being there doesn’t prove you were trying to rescue the child.”
“I brought the sleeping goddess back unharmed,” he countered.
Talwyn ran through the facts. The mages hunted her. If he’d been in league with them, he would have had the perfect opportunity to take her after they jumped in the river. Her gut told her to trust this man even if she didn’t have all the information yet.
“The apparitions were human copies created by magic. A mage, a powerful one, can create an apparition that is essentially human, except that it can only exist as long as the mage does. If you kill the mage, the apparition ceases to exist. Otherwise, it fights and bleeds like any man.”
“How have I never heard of these?”
“Do you live in a cave?” Carrick offered.
“Apparently.” He scratched his head. “And what did the mage want with the child?”
“Mages,” Talwyn corrected him. “There were two.”
“Were. Because you killed one of them,” he said it as a statement to which Talwyn nodded.
She felt Carrick tense behind her. By the twins’ admission, mages could be the most powerful magic wielders of their age.
She somehow managed to kill one without her fury.
A fluke, she thought to herself. I just got lucky.
Earlier, Carrick tried to use this to prove they could handle the mages themselves. She wouldn’t hear any of it.
“Okay, so what did the mages want with the child?” Faron repeated.
Talwyn hesitated. Revealing the mages were after her would lead to too many questions.
And that still didn’t explain what triggered the mages to take Evania in the first place.
She settled for a half-truth. “She said they were searching for something. They thought she had it, but that’s all we know. ”
“Have you noticed any disturbance in the industrial district?” Carrick asked out of the blue, referring to Pochette’s businesses.
Talwyn whipped her head around to scowl. She hadn’t planned on telling Faron about that detail.
Faron hesitated. “I’ve seen the smoke. Are these mages involved?”
“They burned a thug’s empire to the ground in a single night. You didn’t think anything of it?”
“I was on my way to investigate but happened upon the girl and her captors first. I take it you weren’t expecting this attack? Have the mages been here long?”
“Our first sighting happened the night everything burned.” She didn’t feel the need to mention the weeks and months of missing persons. “Why am I getting the impression this is all new to you?” Talwyn asked, suspicious.
“Where I come from, conversations stick to superficial things—clothing, sex, scandal. Dangerous groups, powerful magic, and violence are taboo.” He tried to grab the last piece of bread, but Talwyn snatched it first.
She sneered, popping the bread into her mouth, to which he chuckled and dropped his head.
“And where exactly do you come from?” Tal said around the oversized bite.
Faron peered at her out of the corners of his eyes. “Your dreams.” He winked.
Talwyn blushed, blaming it on the ale. “Non-answer,” she muttered.
“I’m from the house of Dohaern.” When all three of them offered blank stares, he added, “The noble household.” He received silence once more, so he tried again, “From the King’s court?
” Talwyn blinked, and he sighed deeply. “My family estate is to the north of the palace. You really haven’t heard of me? ”
Tal took a swig of water while Carrick shrugged. Egan spoke for the three of them. “To be honest, we only know the king’s name because his guard likes to prance around the taverns claiming they’re his favorite.”
Talwyn nearly choked on her water.
“What are you doing at the docks?” Carrick interrupted.
“Getting myself in over my head apparently.” Faron rubbed his neck and shook his head. “What’s your involvement in all this?” He gestured around at nothing.
“We’re not involved. We protect what’s ours. And the docks and everyone in them are ours.” Even in her state, Tal noticed how the noble’s frown lifted when she spoke.
“Perhaps it’s time you come out of your tunnels.” He stood. “I’ll come find you if I learn anything.” The swordsman walked backwards to the end of the roof.
“No. You won’t.” She narrowed her eyes playfully.
“Stay away from the ale, and perhaps you’ll be right. Gentleman, it’s been a pleasure. Milady.” He bowed, then straightened with a wink and hopped out of sight.
Tal rushed to the edge of the roof, worried for a moment that he had jumped to his death.
She huffed a laugh when she caught him leaping down from the window ledges.
When he reached the bottom, he pulled his mask up over his mouth, saluted her, and ran off into the darkness.
Tal shook her head, picturing all the reasons Faron of Dohaern hung around the docks.
The next morning, Talwyn woke with a pounding headache and a fierce desire to empty the contents of her stomach.
She shook her head at the pitcher of water Carrick left on the table and changed out of her clothes from the night before, opting for a loose fitted shirt and trousers, before heading out in search of her friends.
Laughter drew her to Rainier’s room. She pulled back the tattered blanket covering the entrance to reveal the group inside.
Rain, who must have taken a healing elixir, sat up in his bed, an arm over his bare middle, watching the children dance and play together.
Sybil hummed a tune and drummed on her thigh while Egan whistled along.
Evania and Janin held hands as they spun in a circle, their eyes bright.
They each wore one of Egan’s loose shirts to replace their own tattered clothing.
Tal smiled as Evania’s blonde curls bounced around her smiling face, recognizing a reddish sheen as the locks caught the torchlight.
She noted the distinct smell of lavender in the room and couldn’t help but wonder how much one of her friends had paid the alchemist for a hair salve.
Someone must have taken the time to brush out the knotted mess.
Not twenty-four hours ago, Egan told her how afraid the two children were.
She smiled along with them while they played.
She could imagine what they had been through living on the docks.
Talwyn had lived it herself. If it weren’t for Carrick, she probably would have died from the influenza all those years ago.
Her face fell thinking of the life Evania and Janin would likely lead.
If they survived, they would either be caught by the Netters, barely living as human dolls to be used by foul men, or they would have to turn to a life like hers.
Violence was a guarantee. The only question was: would they be the victims or the aggressors?
Tal regarded the state of their home. The tunnels weren’t sanitary or comfortable by any means, but they had a roof over their heads and a safe place to sleep at night.
A part of her wished she could do that much for the children, maybe for others.
Life as a hunter grew in her bones, but it wasn’t meant for the rest.
She thought of the conversations they had over the last few months—the more recent growing pressure to involve themselves in matters that would surely get them all killed.
They wanted to intervene, but she hesitated.
They’d spent years building this fragile life.
What would happen if they got involved? What would happen if they didn’t?
She took in the scene around the room: at the children dancing, Sybil’s joyful smile, Rain nodding his head to the music, and Egan whistling happily.
Carrick rested against the wall, eyes closed, his face relaxed.
She would give anything to protect this moment, to create a life as carefree as this for her friends.
Her thoughts darkened as the images of the last few days came to mind.
A few hours after Pochette warned her of the coming evil, so much destruction rained down on not only the docks, but her specifically.
If the mages wouldn’t leave, she couldn’t ignore them.
As much as she wanted to keep her head down, life told her at every turn to look into herself and learn what she was meant for.
Sybil lifted her head, her black hair brushing her cheek. Talwyn locked eyes with her and she knew her friend had a vision. Sometimes Sybil sought them out, other times they demanded her attention all on their own. Tal watched warily as the seer crossed the space and stood beside her.
“A vision?” Tal asked.
Sybil didn’t turn, instead she continued to watch the children dance. “You must train more.”
Tal pushed off the wall she had been leaning against. “Is danger coming?”
Sybil’s deep brown eyes sought out her own. “It’s already here.”