Edyon rolled his eyes again.
“Love child,” she repeated insistently. “That is what you are.”
“Not to them.”
Erin rubbed her face. She looked tired.
“So?” Edyon asked. “What do you think I should do?”
“Do you want to meet your father?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then go to him.” Erin sounded petulant.
They sat staring at each other.
In a slightly softer voice Erin said, “I thought Regan could be trusted, but perhaps I’m wrong and this servant is right. Who knows.”
“March, the servant, could have killed me this afternoon and didn’t. I trust him that much.”
“There will be some people, many perhaps, who are against you. The best way, the safest way, is to trust no one.”
“And will you be safe, Mother?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I am merely the mother. No one’s interested in me.”
“Would you want to come to Calidor?”
“What would I do there? Here I have my own life, my own business. If you stay there, I’ll visit you.” She forced a smile. “Maybe I’ll find some new customers.”
Edyon thought of going to her and hugging her, but it didn’t feel right. They rarely touched. Never hugged. He couldn’t now, but maybe later, before he left.
Erin said, “Whatever happens, I would like to think you won’t forget me. You’ll write often, I’m sure.” She sounded hurt. Formal. Businesslike.
“I’ll write often,” Edyon assured her.
They were silent again. Edyon wasn’t sure what to do. Just packing a bag and walking out felt heartless, but that’s all that was left to be done.
“What was all that about stealing things and being pissed on?”
And suddenly it didn’t seem so hard to tell her after all.
“I steal things. I always have. This time Stone caught me. His guards beat me up and pissed on me, so I went to the bathhouse to clean up and stole some demon smoke from there.”
“What?”
“As I say, it’s been a busy day.”
“People who trade in demon smoke are dangerous, Edyon.”
“Perhaps it is a good time to leave then. I’ve hidden the smoke. Stone wants paying, though. Fifty kroners. I’m sorry to ask, but . . . could you pay him? I’ll pay you back.”
“Of course, Edyon. The money’s not a problem. Though stealing is.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. It’s not something I’m proud of. But don’t worry about the demon hunters. They don’t know I took the smoke. And, even if they find out, it’s me they’ll look for and . . . well, if I leave soon . . . tonight . . . I wouldn’t worry about them.”
“You’ll go tonight?”
“Yes. Regan could come back at any moment. Him, I am worried about. I’ll go as soon as I can. Make my way to the coast with March. I should be there in a few days. We can get a boat easily enough. I’ll be with Father in a week.” Edyon was just saying things as they came to him, but that final phrase hit him. He’d see his father in a week. It sounded like a dream or a fantasy. It sounded unreal.
Erin rose. “I’ll get Mal to prepare some food for your journey. Are you hungry now? He can bring you something.”
“Yes. Thanks. I’ll just go and pack a few things.”
Edyon hesitated, thinking he should hug his mother now, but she was already going to call for Mal, and so he went to his sleeping tent, sat down on the rug, and stared at nothing. Mal brought him a bowl of stew and some bread and a glass of wine. Though Edyon didn’t think he’d manage to eat it, he devoured the lot. He knew he should start thinking about what to take on his journey, but he wasn’t sure what he needed. What did you need to meet your father? Meet a prince?
He put on his most comfortable clothes and put his best boots, jacket, trousers, and his two best shirts in a bag. It wasn’t that heavy, so he added another warmer jacket. Was it cold in Calidor? Could he take more? Would March carry his bag? He had no idea.
His mother said he should trust no one, but he did trust March. He liked him. He seemed honest. So far it seemed he hadn’t lied at all. And certainly if he’d wanted to kill Edyon he could have done it when he’d been lying in a pool of piss or when he was sleeping off the demon smoke. Edyon could make his way to Calidor by himself easily enough, but wouldn’t it be more pleasurable to spend time with the handsome March? And March could tell him about the prince, how to behave at court, who his enemies might be. Yes, March would be valuable to him.
Edyon was full of energy now. He had made a choice. He was the son of a prince. And he was on his way to meet his father. He picked up his bag and went to say good-bye to his mother.
They did hug, though a little uncomfortably. He kissed her on her cheek and accepted the bag of food and the money she offered him. He took a step toward the front of the tent, but his mother said, “Not that way. Just in case someone is watching. Go out the back.” She came to him again and this time hugged him hard, saying, “Take care, Edyon.”
And Edyon kissed her again, taking in the smell of her perfume.
“Thank you, Mother. I will see you again, but now I need to see my father.”
And he went to the hidden flap at the back of the tent that Mal held open for him, and he was out into the cool night air.
TASH
DORNAN, PITORIA
TASH HAD given up on Gravell and gone back to Edyon’s tent.
She was almost certain he had taken the smoke, but there was one way to be sure. If she could get into the tent, she could search for the stolen bottle. It was risky, but getting the smoke back was the main objective. Edyon could wait—Gravell would find him soon enough.
Tash sauntered casually past the guard at the front of the tent before ducking down the side and picking her way through the web of guy ropes to the rear. But just as she arrived, another figure stepped out through a low flap. He immediately tripped over a guy rope, cursed, stumbled, leaped high over another rope, laughed, and ran off toward the woods.
Tash had quickly moved back out of sight, but even in the dim light she recognized the boy as the one she’d seen in the bathhouse.
Edyon.
He had a bag over his shoulder, and certainly looked guilty slipping furtively out the back of the tent. Was he afraid Gravell was already after him? Tash hurried in pursuit.
Edyon went toward the woods, speeding up when he was clear of the tents. He continued into the trees, then stopped by a stream and seemed to be waiting for someone, looking around constantly.
Tash wasn’t sure what to do. Was he meeting a buyer? If he had the smoke it must be in his bag, but she couldn’t snatch it from him, as it looked too heavy for her to run with. But if someone else turned up she’d have even less of a chance to get the smoke back. There was only one thing for it.
She stepped forward and said, “Hey.”
Edyon jumped like a scalded cat, but he turned and gave a very casual wave of his hand. “Hey.”
“I saw you in the bathhouse,” Tash said.
“I remember. What a coincidence seeing you here too!”
Now he was looking around him with more concern.
“Something went missing from the bathhouse while Gravell and me were . . . when Gravell stepped out of his compartment. I know it was you who took it. I can shout him over, he’s just back there at the tents, but it’d be much easier if you gave it back to me.”
Edyon looked a little more relaxed. He wasn’t afraid of her, just of Gravell. He said, “It?”
“The bottle of smoke. Hand it over. Or shall I call Gravell and you can go through all this with him?”
“Look, I know you’re not going to believe this, but I’m actually glad you’re here. Really. I admit I took the smoke, but I don’t want it. I’m leaving and I wasn’t going to take the smoke with me. I hid it in the riverbank.”
Tash smiled. “Sure you weren’t. And sure you did. And when I go down there to look you’ll hit me on the back of the head with a rock and run off.”
“I wouldn’t hit anyone, and definitely not with a rock.”
“So hand it over then.”