CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
It wasn’t entirely surprising, but Anya had not known this about her friend. Though Perrine had always had a wistfulness about her, she had never mentioned wanting a different life. Anya supposed the possibility had never been on the table before.
“‘Anything else’ is rather broad. Don’t tell me you’ve nothing planned.”
“Well,” Perrine began, puffing her chest, “you know that florist’s shop I always thought would make a fine restaurant – the one on King’s Street?”
Anya nodded.
“The building’s gone up for sale. One of my regular clients said he’d write me a reference and be my first customer.
” Anya’s heart dropped to her stomach. Perrine’s dreamy smile returned.
“No more unsalted goat stew cooked over the fire pit. No more sleeping in dirt with sticks poking into my back.”
“That sounds lovely, Perrine,” she said sadly.
Perrine frowned, obviously hurt. “It doesn’t sound like it sounds lovely.”
“Sorry,” Anya said, and meant it, though not for the reason her friend thought. “I’m only tired.”
“It’s more than that.” Perrine peered at her closely. “No, there’s something different about you. Has something happened?”
Anya’s pulse quickened. Perhaps she could tell Perrine about the curse. Why shouldn’t she? Perhaps Perrine could help her.
But to do that, Perrine would have no choice but to give up her prize. And Anya did not know what would be worse: to ask Perrine to give up her dream for Anya’s sake, or to discover that she would not.
Perrine lit up. “I’ve got it. The introspection, the dewy glow. You’ve met someone.”
“What?” Anya sputtered. “No, I–” She hesitated. It may be better to let her believe that over the truth.
A sharp crack startled them both and sent the falcon into the leaves above. That was no deer. Anya gripped her hatchet from her belt, while Perrine reached for her rifle.
They could not see beyond the circle of their fire. “Who’s there?” called Anya, squinting into the darkness. Perrine raised her rifle.
“Miss Degen? Is that you?”
“Miss Degen,” Perrine repeated scornfully, lowering her gun and making a face at Anya.
“It’s Anya, yes,” Anya called, lowering her hatchet.
Sabina stepped closer to the fire, illuminating a mussed jacket, a torn skirt, and a face made puffy from crying. She still had her pen kit, but carried nothing else.
Anya’s heart sped. “Are you alright? Is Sylas with you? Is he hurt?”
“No, no, I – I was with David, and Bertrand and Terrence,” she said, reciting each name as if it was a lodestone. “We were walking, and I heard–” She broke off abruptly, her face falling.
Another prank, or a more devious trick. Anya would put nothing past them.
But at the desolate look on Sabina’s face, Anya dismissed the thought. “Go on,” she said gently, putting her hatchet back on her belt. “Nothing will sound too strange to us.”
It was all Sabina needed. “I heard a little girl crying. I turned around to look for her, and I stepped no more than one step off the path. I didn’t see anyone.
When I turned around, the men were just…
gone. But I could still hear the crying.
A little girl, hysterical. I looked and looked.
It wouldn’t stop.” Anya took her seat, and Sabina sat beside her, her legs folded elegantly beneath her, even in her distress.
Anya took her hand. She looked up, as if startled, but settled and gripped Anya’s hand back.
She sniffled. “It made me very sad. So desperately sad.”
“You’re lucky you found us,” said Perrine. She sat at Sabina’s other side and took her other hand. Knowing this tone of voice, Anya stifled a snort and gave them some space, taking Perrine’s former seat on the other side of the fire. “We’ll keep you safe. I’m Perrine, by the way.”
“All I want is for that damn crying to stop,” Sabina said, her own eyes welling. Angrily, she wiped at them.
“Here,” Anya said, reaching over to hand Sabina the flask of brandy. “You’ve no idea where the others are?”
Sabina took a swig and then said, dryly, “Most of the rest went home when you sabotaged our wagons.”
At Perrine’s furrowed eyebrows, Anya sighed. No help for it now. “I’m hunting the phoenix too. We all are. For King Edgard.”
“I knew it,” Perrine said. “So that’s what you were hiding from me.”
Anya hesitated, then glared at Sabina, who now watched her with a wildcat’s cunning.
“Yes,” Anya lied, turning back to Perrine. “I’m sorry. I thought…I thought it would be easier for us both if we didn’t let our affection get in the way.”
“A strictly sororal affection,” Perrine amended quickly to Sabina, who took another swig of brandy. She turned back to Anya, wilting. “I won’t lie; I am not thrilled to hear it. I didn’t take you for the type.”
Anya shrugged, her heart hardly in the lie. “It’s the catch of lifetime. And I need the money.”
Perrine’s lips pressed close together, and she nodded. “Well. We all do, I suppose.”
“She doesn’t,” Anya said, casting a glare at Sabina, unable to help herself.
“You know nothing about me,” Sabina said coldly. She leaned forward, and her eyes flicked to the gloves on Anya’s hands. “Why isn’t Sylas with you?”
“We didn’t work well together,” Anya said flatly, while Perrine asked, “Who is Sylas?”