Steven Brust - Athyra

“Yes.”

“Work fast,” said Sara.

“I intend to,” said Vlad.

“Do you even have supplies for the journey?”

“I have gold, and I can teleport, and I can steal.”

Sara shook her head.

Vlad stood up and reached a hand out. “Savn, come on.”

The boy obediently stood, and Sara glanced at his eyes; they seemed empty.

“Can you really heal his mind?” she asked.

“One way or another,” said Vlad. “I will.”

Polyi stood and hugged her brother, who seemed not to notice. She stepped back, gave Vlad a look impossible to describe, went over to Sara, and nodded.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Easterner,” said Sara.

“You could wish me luck.”

“Yes. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

He took the boy’s arm, and led him off into the woods, walking slowly as if his wounds still bothered him. Sara put her arm around the girl, who didn’t resist, and they watched the Easterner, the human, and the two jhereg until they disappeared.

“Good luck,” Sara repeated softly to their backs.

Then she turned to the girl and took her hand. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you home. Your Harvest Festival is beginning, and the gods alone know what sort of animals live out here.”

The girl said nothing, but held onto Sara’s hand, tightly.