Барб Хенди - First and Last Sorcerer

Leesil bit down a retort.

“Very well,” someone else said. “But be quick, keep your hood forward, and look at no one.”

Leesil half turned in his chair as Ghassan il’Sänke ambled toward the table. The domin showed no sign that he felt watched, though Osha had unfolded his arms, his bow held at the ready. And as Leesil turned back around ...

“Yes,” Wynn answered shortly without looking at the domin.

Leesil felt pushed aside and didn’t like it. “Take Shade,” he instructed.

Wynn glanced aside and down.

He then realized that he also hadn’t seen Shade. Likely Chap’s daughter was below the table at Wynn’s feet.

Wynn looked up and shook her head at him. “No, a black wolf would draw attention, and we even used that once as a distraction.”

He’d known Wynn for years, and though she might be right, he could tell when she was lying. Well, at least in part. So what other reason did she have for leaving Shade behind?

—Chane—

At those memory-words in Leesil’s head, Chap appeared beside his chair. Then Leesil remembered the way Shade had acted the night before concerning Chane. Wynn worried for that monster’s safety, and this left a bitter taste in Leesil’s mouth.

“Oh, seven hells,” he said. “Take Shade, and no one will touch Chane ... unless he asks for it.”

Wynn winced at his tone. Once, that might have been all, but she fixed him with a sharp glance. He didn’t care.

“She is correct,” Brot’an put in. “A black wolf will call attention ... and I assume by Shade’s condition upon returning last night that this may already be the case.”

“I won’t be long,” Wynn said. “I know the way.”

She dropped to one knee and whispered something below the table, likely to Shade. With a guttural whine, the black majay-hì rose into sight and padded off toward the back corner on the opposite side of the sitting area and bedchamber’s entrance.

Wynn looked to Osha. “You’ll ... help her?”

Osha nodded once as Wynn donned her cloak and went to leave, and Leesil’s eyes followed her to the door. He then turned to where Shade had gone. A long bulk under a blanket lay in the back corner of the main room, and Leesil knew what it was.

Chane—completely covered and dormant.

He heard the front door shut, rose up out of the chair, and turned, but Wynn was gone. He didn’t even wonder how she was going to find the door again from the outside to get back into this place. He just studied Osha ... who had promised to help Shade.

A full-blooded an’Cróan elf and a majay-hì both protecting a dormant undead.

The world had gone mad.

Osha watched Wynn leave. When his head turned back, the disgust on Léshil’s face made him look away again. In principle, he agreed with Léshil. But here and now, Wynn and Shade were correct.

They needed Chane—needed everyone—for what would come. The unwanted vampire had more than proven that the night before.

Osha breathed deeply to gain some calm, but silent tension choked the room more than the stale air or the stench of this human city. Without Wynn present, no one had anything to say to anyone.

Léshil began pushing things around on a shelf behind the table, and the domin went to assist him. With a small water bottle in hand, Léshil grabbed Wynn’s cup off the table, downed what was in it, and headed for the bedchamber. The domin frowned as he watched Léshil, but Osha lost his focus in attempting to watch as well.

Leanâlhâm—Wayfarer had not spoken to him since the night before. Thankfully, she was likely still asleep. He deserved whatever anger and blame she might throw at him, but he was not certain he could bear it right now. With no desire to share company with Brot’ân’duivé, but needing to keep an eye on the domin, Osha slipped around the table and headed for the dim back corner.

Shade lay on the floor facing toward the table. Behind her, and covered completely with a blanket, Chane lay as still as a draped corpse.

Osha had seen this many times but had never grown accustomed to the sight. Shade lifted her head and whined, and he looked down. She must feel the tension as well, as she rarely paid him much attention.

The dog hated being separated from Wynn, even for a short time, but more recently had often assisted Chane. And, strangely, she ignored her father.

Osha had wondered about this but had not asked. He was uncertain whom to ask. Soft footsteps behind him made him turn.

Leanâlhâm—Wayfarer stood watching him from near the bedchamber’s entrance.

Osha swallowed hard.

Her brown hair, so odd for an’Cróan, hung in a tangled mess. In daylight, at the sight of her starved appearance, his guilt welled and he could not speak. When she took a few steps between the remaining floor cushions in the sitting area, she stopped as her gaze lowered and she looked beyond him toward the back corner.

“Wynn cares for him ,” she whispered, obviously referring to Chane.

It had not been a question but a statement, and Osha rocked back on one heel as if kicked in the stomach. Those words could have had any number of meanings, but she had clearly said them to cut him. And worse, he felt he deserved it.

Yes, Wynn cared for Chane. There was nothing Osha could do about that, though he had his hopes concerning her and their past together. But something more stunned him.

Leanâlhâm had never before said anything to hurt him. She had changed in more than name since they’d last parted.

Wynn couldn’t help a convulsive shudder, as if shaking off ants crawling all over her, as she left that sorcery-hidden place. Even so, she grew anxious at the thought of leaving.

Ghassan was up and about, Chane was dormant, and hopefully Magiere wouldn’t leave the bedroom anytime soon. If so, Wynn hoped Chap would be sensible and keep Magiere in check. Lack of trust would’ve been a blessing, as opposed to hate. There was so much bad—and spilled—blood between Chane and the others, especially Magiere.

Scavenging the little market took longer than Wynn had expected.

First she purchased a large urn with a tight lid of hardened leather and then found an eatery near the market’s back end. The proprietor filled the urn with some kind of stew. Judging by the savory smell, it at least had meat in it, probably goat, but she could not be certain. After she paid the man, she went looking for clean clothing, as she didn’t know whether the others had spare clothes in the baggage Brot’an had been able to save.

She took care not to buy anything with a colorful pattern—the plainer the better.

In the end, she purchased three sets of simple muslin pantaloons—what passed for pants in this land—and three lightweight sleeveless tunics, which nearly everyone wore here. The smallest one was ruddy red in color. The other two were larger, one of midnight blue and one of sandy orange. At least her friends would be able to bathe properly and dress in clean clothing. And for that, she found and purchased two bars of sandalwood soap.

Though satisfied with her purchases, Wynn found herself a little overburdened as she headed back for the tenement. She tried to focus on the tasks at hand and not Ghassan’s betrayal—that he’d risked himself only because he wanted help in hunting down an undead. And maybe there was more than that. If he’d been honest from the start, she might have understood, even if Chane wouldn’t.

She didn’t know what would come next, as nothing had been settled the night before. Like Leesil, all she wanted for now was to help Wayfarer and Magiere recover. Magiere was the strongest person she’d ever known, and yet now she looked almost broken.