Riven stood between them, leaning against the wall, watching. The two women before him exchanged glances, their eyes drifting away from each other. Silvia held her long knife in hand, pretending to clean it while casting quick looks at Elara. Part of her was glad to see her, but to appear now? Out of nowhere?

  Elara, on the other hand, had a small sword hanging by her thigh, but the most striking thing was the spear jutting from her back as they approached. Silvia had never seen her with a spear before. The last time they met, Elara could barely handle a sword, and now she had a full spear. And that white hair? Had she turned grey so soon? The edges still had hints of black. In truth, it suited her—Silvia couldn’t deny it. It gave her the look of a fighter. A warrior. On Eagle’s Bridge, she was just a frail little girl. She had grown stronger since then. Her form was fuller now, and Silvia noticed even Riven had stolen a few glances at her on their way from the tavern to the stables.

  “What are you doing here, Elara?” Silvia couldn’t hold back and spoke first.

  Riven stepped between them.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing,” Elara reached for her spear and drew it.

  Riven mirrored the movement with his sword.

  “Relax, Riven. I don’t intend to attack you. Though after the last time…”

  “The last time?” Silvia almost jumped. “Do you remember what we said the last time we saw each other?”

  “Yes. I remember very well. But the situation is different now.”

  “What’s different? I promised you that if I saw you again, we would settle the matter in a fight. And for one of us, it wouldn’t end well. Do you remember? Now get ready.”

  “No, Silvia.” Riven extended a hand in front of her. “There’s no point in doing anything right now. Not until we’re out of this place.”

  “Are you defending her? What if she’s one of those people in the tavern?”

  “And that’s why I saved you?”

  “Saved us?” Silvia laughed. “You’ve always loved to exaggerate, Elara. But none of that is true.”

  Riven remained silent. Silvia was ready to strike her. Elara also stood in a stance, ready to fight.

  “Go ahead, Silvia.” Elara let the spear drop. “Hit me and end this. You want revenge, don’t you? Do it.”

  Silvia took another step forward. Her heart said no, but her mind urged her to strike. As she hesitated over what to do, Riven took the weapon from her hand and threw it at his feet.

  “Speak, Elara,” he said in a deep, commanding voice that Silvia had always feared. She saw Elara soften at the sound.

  Elara looked at both Silvia and Riven, uncertainty in her eyes. Valdemar had chased them out of the tavern and given them refuge in the stables as a gesture of thanks. Silvia felt mixed emotions toward them. They had saved him, but they had also turned the tavern upside down. If they caused trouble here, they would likely be thrown out of the village. Not that it would be much of a problem, but they wanted to take what they came for first. Horses or maybe a cart. They preferred the latter.

  “There’s nothing to say,” Elara interrupted Silvia’s thoughts. “Like you, I wander. Especially after Omar…”

  “Omar?” Silvia interjected. “That’s right, Omar. Where’s your little friend?” She pretended to have forgotten about him, but she hadn’t. Omar and Elara were a pair, just like her and Riven. Both dark-skinned, Omar a bit more, both warriors, both with strong wills. They had found each other on Eagle’s Bridge.

  Elara’s eyes lit up, and she stepped closer to Silvia. The mention of Omar’s name seemed to agitate her. Silvia drew a short sword from somewhere, just enough to keep someone at a safe distance, and stopped her with it. Riven reached out and took it too. She shot him one of her most venomous looks. She’d have words with him later, though she knew it wouldn’t be in her favor.

  “What’s wrong with you, Silvia?” Elara nearly shouted.

  “I need to finish what I postponed last time.” Anger flared in Silvia. She could still see how Elara had walked into that place and taken Omar with her despite all of Riven’s warnings. They had fought side by side, killed so many enemies, and in the end, they took the money. Not that she and Riven didn’t work for money now, but it was different. Truly different.

  “You asked about Omar, didn’t you? Omar is in Thorn. There, I told you.”

  “Thorn? The prison Thorn?” Riven spoke again. He was more talkative than usual.

  “Yes.”

  “Good, that’s where he belongs.” Silvia smiled. “Too bad you’re not there too.”

  Elara lowered her gaze to the ground. For a moment, Silvia felt pity, but she quickly pushed the feeling away.

  “Elara?” Riven decided to break his silence and intervened. His tone was gentle. He placed a hand on hers. Silvia noticed and made a mental note to remind him of it later. “Why is Omar in Thorn?”

  “Why do you care, Riven?” Silvia threw something at him, which bounced off his shoulder.

  “Omar was my friend. That’s why.”

  “Friend?” Silvia shouted. “You still dare call them friends? Don’t you remember Eagle’s Bridge?”

  “I remember it. But they had no choice then. I understood that later.”

  “They had no choice? What do you mean, they had no choice? They chose the money from the guards over leaving with us.”

  “We served the Western Kingdoms.”

  “You served yourselves. And look at the result. You’re alone, and your Omar is in Thorn. What happened? Did they decide they didn’t like people with darker skin there either?”

  “No.” Elara looked up at Silvia and continued. “We were part of the Solis guard. Even a higher-paid part than the others. They treated us well, and everyone was at our feet.”

  “But something must have happened.”

  “Yes, one day, Ajax passed through.”

  “Ajax? The King of Solis?”

  “Ajax has softened in character and grown fat. Very fat. And he doesn’t fight anymore. He just sits on his throne, eats grapes all day, and drinks. His hair’s growing long, and there’s no trace of its blonde color. It’s almost white now. Time hasn’t been kind to him.”

  “What does that have to do with anything, Elara?”

  “He came to the gates. I don’t know why, but he asked for us from the commander Orvin there. He paid a high price for us. We had no choice.”

  “Of course. I knew they’d make you slaves.”

  “We were never slaves.”

  “Anyone bought with money is a slave.”

  “Leave her be, Silvia. Let her talk.”

  Elara looked down again and continued. She no longer resembled the confident Elara. She seemed somehow broken.

  “In Solis, we were part of the guard, directly under Ajax. And over time, he took us under his wing. He liked us so much that we were always with him. Only when he was with the queen did he make us leave. And there were times when Omar even stayed.”

  “Omar stayed? Why?”

  Riven quickly realized what he had said, but it was too late.

  “You know why, Riven. But I had no problems with it. We were paid well, slept in good places, and Solis is a peaceful kingdom. It’s hot, but there are no internal wars or nearby tribes that rebel. We lived well. And we had to pretend we didn’t see the foolish things Ajax was doing.”

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  “You lived well, and apparently, something happened?”

  “Yes.” Elara covered her eyes with her hands again. “One of Ajax’s advisors called me to his room one night. I didn’t hesitate and went. I expected him to want the same thing as Ajax, to stand guard at his door all night. Sometimes these people do secret things and want stronger security. And everything was fine until he brought me into his room.”

  Silvia looked into her eyes. They had started to well up with tears.

  “Did you kill him?”

  Elara lifted her gaze and nodded.

  “It’s rare for a woman to be a warrior. It almost always comes down to what they asked of you.” Riven’s tone was far too kind. So much so that it was starting to irritate Silvia.

  “I know, but nothing gave it away…”

  “It’s always that. And how did Omar get involved in this?”

  “He took the blame.” Elara wiped her tears. “He arrived first, and when Ajax and the other guards came, he confessed that he had killed the commander of the army.”

  “The commander? That Orvin?”

  “Yes. Ajax liked us. Both me and Omar. And he made it so that he managed to send him to prison. He saved him from a public execution. If you kill a commander, you must die. Well, Omar didn’t die, but they sent him to Thorn.”

  “And you?”

  “I was banished from the kingdom a few nights later. He was afraid they would attack me again or that I would try to avenge him. There was nothing I could do but find you. That’s why I came to Volkar. I know Silvia likes to linger there. And word of you had spread as far as Solis. Or at least the things you had done. But without names. But I was sure it was you. And when I saw you here… I was glad, even though I didn’t know how you would take me.”

  Riven looked at her. Silvia did too.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Both you and Silvia. I know how we parted ways before. Believe me, I regretted losing you. Every day I regretted it. And Omar often talked about you.”

  “Tell me about Omar. Are you sure he’s in Thorn?”

  “No, but I saw the ship with the prisoners heading there. Omar was among them. I saw him on the deck.”

  “You can only reach Thorn by water. And we don’t have much experience with water. And now we have another task.”

  “I know how. But I need you both. Tell me what I can do to regain your trust? And then you can help Omar. You’re my last hope.”

  A noise came from the back of the stables. Several dark figures moved. The sound of breaking glass echoed. Silvia pulled her weapon from Riven’s hands and was the first to head toward the sound.

  She sensed Riven was doing the same behind her.

  Three men stood before her. She was almost certain there was a fourth among them. She couldn’t see them well, only their outlines. She didn’t know what they wanted, but she knew it wasn’t good.

  “Are you the ones from the tavern?” one of them asked.

  Silvia didn’t answer, but she stopped and waited. A slight fear gripped her. She didn’t know why she had rushed forward alone. What was she thinking? She could fight; Riven had trained her, but not against three. And sometimes, she struggled even against one. But Riven was coming too. That comforted her.

  Ahead, she heard the scrape of metal. Then something flashed in the dark stable. The metal was high in the air and descending toward her head. She did nothing. She didn’t even try to stop it. She saw it. Was this the end?

  Someone pushed her, shoving her against the stable wall. She hit her shoulder and fell. Then she opened her eyes. It was Riven. Riven had pushed her. Now he was fighting the three men. Elara was with him. Silvia stayed down. She was the weakest link. She was pathetic. Even Elara was stronger than her and now fought side by side with Riven. What was this intruder thinking?

  Silvia drew her knife and moved toward them.

  “Step back,” Riven called as he finished off one of the men by pinning him to the wall with his sword.

  She stepped back. She didn’t care who they were fighting or why. She just watched and felt alone. Look how well the two of them worked together. And they protected her. They protected her like a child. Like a lady. A lady she certainly was not. She hated ladies. She never wanted to be a lady.

  She sat on the ground and curled up. Panic was taking hold of her again. It had been a long time since she had felt this panic. She thought she had overcome it. Riven knew what she was feeling. Only he did. But now he was busy. Otherwise, he would have hugged her and told her everything was fine. She could be weak only in front of him.

  A new body fell near her. Blood streamed from his forehead. She stared at the dead man, unable to move. She was afraid of the dead. Her hands trembled.

  Another fell beside her. Suddenly, it was quiet. She was trembling and whimpering softly. She wanted Riven. She wanted him to hold her. She lifted her head. He was standing, talking to Elara.

  Why was Elara here? What did she want from them? To drive them apart?

  She felt hands. A man’s hands. They were Riven’s. She felt him.

  He held her tighter and lifted her from the ground. She began to cry. Then she opened her arms and hit him. She hit him a second time. Then she stood face to face with Elara. She stared at her. She wanted to kill her. If they wanted to be together, she’d let them.

  She bolted out of the stables. Outside, it was dark. As she ran, she felt her thigh. Her weapon was still there. She could handle him too. She couldn’t fight like Elara, but she could defend herself. And it wasn’t like the village had many stronger than her. She could have killed those in the stables too. If she had been left alone, she would have handled them. But no, Riven had interfered again. As always, he wanted to be the stronger one. And that Elara… Let him stay with her if he wanted. He wanted her even then. The thing with Omar was just a distraction.

  She didn’t like this town. It only brought death and old memories.

  She kept running.

  She decided to flee through the narrow alleys. She hoped no one would intercept her there. She was wrong. In the first alley, two of Mungard’s guards came toward her. She believed she could take them on but preferred to escape. If they caught her, it would create problems for Riven and Elara. She didn’t want to see them, but she didn’t want them to come back for her either. No one was stronger than Riven. No one would catch him. That thought calmed her.

  She turned back and headed again down the main street. She walked slowly and calmly. She wanted to look as unsuspicious as possible. A light appeared from one of the houses, then quickly went out. Silvia hid under the window and listened intently. Nothing. The guards from the narrow alley turned in the opposite direction.

  A shout and the clash of steel echoed nearby. Someone was fighting. In the distance, she saw the same two guards. Now they were running. Silvia drew one of her knives and held it in her hand. Her steps became lighter. As she moved silently, she remembered Zhorin Silent Step.

  Zhorin was her best friend from childhood. Before Silvia lost her parents, she and Zhorin were inseparable. And they called her Silent Step. Zhorin loved to steal, hence the nickname. And she was never caught, though they always knew it was her. If they wondered, she would tell them herself. But only to the kids around her, never to those she had taken from.

  Zhorin had lost her parents during the massacre. The massacre in Chernoval left many children alive. But it killed their parents. It had been over twenty years since then, and she barely remembered them. But she remembered Zhorin. She and Zhorin learned to walk slowly and quietly. This was especially important with the Vanders. They were a scourge in Chernoval. No one liked them, but they tolerated them. The king protected them. As far as she had heard, they were still there. That’s why she hated that kingdom. The thought of having to pass through it with Riven to reach Ishold terrified her. But now Riven was gone. She was alone in a foreign town full of guards crawling through the streets.

  A new shout echoed. It was closer. Silvia drew her other knife and entered another alley.

  “Ah, what a beauty,” she heard a female voice that made her jump.

  Silvia turned and saw a woman who must have been at least forty years old. She held a wooden woman’s pipe, common among the lighter women of the kingdoms. The pipe smoked with a pleasant aroma that even Silvia could smell. It was clear the woman had once been beautiful, but now her worn face showed she was far from those years. She wore a long lace dress in various colors, which was torn in places and dirty in others.

  “I can do women too,” the woman winked at Silvia and took a drag from the pipe.

  Silvia looked around, first on one side, then the other. She sheathed one of her knives and with her free hand struck the woman, who fell and remained on the ground. Silvia quickly undressed her and put on her clothes. She took the pipe too and hid the body flat on the ground.

  “Hope you’re not dead,” she whispered softly and tried to check if she was breathing. She felt warmth, which reassured her.

  “Who are you?” another woman had appeared, looking very much like the one now lying on the ground. The second woman looked down, and the moonlight illuminated her pale face. “No. Stay back. I’ll scream! Don’t kill me.”

  Silvia looked around again and this time drew her knife. She swung it. She didn’t check if the second woman was breathing. There was no time. Instead, she lifted the long, heavy dress she had taken from the first and left the alley.

  “Why are you out on the streets?” Silvia turned. It was one of the town’s guards. Fat and short, with a long spear and peasant clothes. Almost all looked the same, but she remembered this one because of his plump cheeks. “Get yourself somewhere, whore. Your place is in the mud.”

  Silvia didn’t know what to say. She felt her knife under the dress. If she killed him, they might find out there were more people with Riven and Elara. “How are they now?” she wondered.

  “What’s up, Rob? Who’s that?” A distant voice distracted the fat guard, and Silvia used the moment to escape. The fat man grabbed her arm at the last moment and looked into her eyes.

  “You’re pretty. It’s rare to see pretty whores. Too bad we have other business now.” The guard grinned wickedly and then slapped her so hard it seemed to whistle between her ears. Silvia collapsed to the ground. She didn’t want to scream. She didn’t want to show weakness. She remained on the ground as the fat man laughed and walked away.

  “Find anything?” she heard him ask. The other guard responded, but she couldn’t make it out.

  She tried to stand, and on the second attempt, she succeeded. She wobbled. Her ears still rang from the resounding slap and the large hand that had struck her face. The first step was the hardest. After the second, she kept moving. She looked at her hands. Blood was running down one side of her face.

  Someone in the alley she had just left screamed. It was a woman’s voice. “How many whores are in this town?” Silvia thought and started running in the opposite direction, as fast as the long dress and the ringing in her ears would allow.

  After a few steps, she tripped and fell. She drew one of her knives and cut the dress to her knees. When she sheathed the knife, it was easier to get up, and she leaned against one of the village house doors. She wanted to be sure no one was around before she moved.

  “Stop!”

  A man’s heavy voice came from in front of her. Then she saw him. Was it Riven? No, it wasn’t him. It was someone else. She ran at him with the knife in hand. If it was one, she had a chance to kill him. The local guards and sentries weren’t chosen from the best but from those who simply weren’t good enough for the local army.

  Two more steps, and she would jump. She loved to kill with a leap.

  She stepped with her left foot, then her right, and fell.

  Something tripped her. She hit her forehead on the ground, then her knee. She turned and put her hand on her forehead. Blood gushed from her head.

  The last thing she saw was that she wasn’t facing the man she had run toward. There were at least five of them.