Daughter of Dusk

James kept his body heavy and his movements lethargic. It wasn’t hard to do, with the fever pounding in his brain. The healer was finishing up now. She made notes on a piece of parchment as the apprentice packed up her jars of herbs and gathered soiled bandages. He came to stand in front of James and inspected a bandage on James’s arm.

“Sloppy wrapping,” the apprentice muttered. His words were tight and clipped, and his eyes darted between James and the healer. He unraveled the bandage partway and pressed something hard and flat against James’s arm before rewrapping. Then he lowered his voice even more. “Two days from now. Second watch.”

James wondered how Bacchus had gotten to this one. Bribery? Threats? He suspected the former. There was a glint of avarice in the young man’s eyes and not enough fear for the latter. He hoped Bacchus had an adequate plan. To break someone out of the dungeons was no small task.

As the apprentice returned to his mistress’s side, James flexed his forearm and felt the pressure of the blade against it. It was small. Its shape suggested that it didn’t even have a hilt. But if he was careful and quick, it would be enough.





S E V E N T E E N


Kyra knew where the trade caravans wintered. There was a cluster of clearings west of the city, and she’d run across trade caravans there a few times when touring the woods with Tristam. It would take a while to get there because she’d have to avoid the main roads, and there would be some risk. Could this be a trap by Jacobo to lure her in for the reward money? She didn’t think so. Jacobo hadn’t seemed the type to sell people out to the Palace. And this was one circumstance under which Kyra refused to be careful. If Jacobo did have more information about her past, then she would learn what it was.

She set out early in the direction of the trader camp. It took her the better part of the morning, but eventually she noticed wagon ruts on a side path. A few more steps, and she smelled smoke. She started to hear voices through the trees after a while, and shapes around what were now clearly several campfires.

A voice called out. “Stop there, stranger. What’s your business?” A man stepped out of the trees. Between his fur hat and his thick cloak, Kyra couldn’t see much of his face.

“My name is Kyra,” she said. “I’m looking for Jacobo. Is he wintering here?”

The sentry looked her over, then waved her past. Kyra noticed other sentries in the shadows, both men and women, warmly bundled and holding spears like they knew how to use them. She kept a mental note of where they were and the gaps in their formations.

Kyra broke through the trees and into a clearing where ten wagons circled a fire pit. When she walked through to the center, she saw Jacobo and four other men and women sitting around the campfire. The trader was much as Kyra had remembered, though he looked more at home here, reclining at the fire, than he’d been in Forge. It took him a moment to recognize her.

“Kyra of Forge,” he said, extending a hand to her. “I’m glad I found you. It seems I’m not the only one looking these days.”

His words gave her a jolt, and she hesitated a split second before taking his hand. If Jacobo knew there was a price on her head, then he must also know what she was. But Jacobo’s handshake was firm, and his gaze didn’t waver.

“I’ve run into some trouble lately, but I mean no harm to your camp,” she said.

“I certainly hope not.” He indicated the spear bearers. “We do travel the Aerins, and we have experience defending against dangers.” He smiled, and his eyes crinkled. “But I didn’t call you here to deliver threats, and you needn’t look like we’re going to knock you over the head and deliver you to the Palace. There’s someone who would like to talk to you.” He indicated another trader sitting by the campfire. The man’s hair was mostly gray, and his face was lined with wrinkles that told of a lifetime in the sun, but he stood up with no difficulty, and his stance was sure. Kyra stopped dead in her tracks when she realized whom he must be. Jacobo had mentioned a survivor of the caravan attack fifteen years ago….

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