When Petyr arrived at the tavern in town, he found Mora on her knees scraping the porch clean. “That seems like a good place for you,” he joked.

  She raised her head, looking annoyed at first, shielding her face from the sun behind him. The moment she realized it was him, she jumped up to her feet and hugged him. “Petyr!”

  A short moment later, she crossed her arms and lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry about Jayne…”

  Past her, Petyr glanced inside the tavern and could see a group of bandits playing dice, while two of the whores hovered around them, leaning into them suggestively, no doubt waiting to see who the winner of the light gambling session would be to milk him dry.

  His eyes flickered back to hers. “Who killed her?”

  “I have no idea…” Mora said, surprised by the intensity of the question. “How would I know?”

  No, there was no way she would’ve known, but he figured it was a good thing to check. Mora was a lot of things—mainly annoying—but she wasn’t a liar. “You don’t think your new pirate friend killed her?”

  “I doubt it. He’s just been in his room with—”

  The way she stopped rang no alarm bells in his head. “With what?”

  Mora gulped and put on a nervous smile. “With the monkey.”

  Petyr took a moment to catch his breath and quietly said, “My father thought I killed her. Can you believe that? Mora, did you tell anyone we were the ones who saw her last?”

  “Kind of… But I just said that we both watched her go! It’s not like anyone thinks you could kill her, Petyr. What the hell. No one thinks you did it.”

  And yet Dad did? That was… odd. Only a man that was himself guilty of misdeeds could be so quick to see them in everybody else, including his own son. More and more, what Avesta had told him rang true. They would have to settle that soon.

  But first, the matter with Jayne.

  As they stood there on the porch, Petyr saw the door to the Room open and then spotted Nik as he emerged with a worried face. “Nik!”

  Nik stopped and glanced at the doorway, annoyed at first. Upon seeing who it was that called him, he smiled warmly and walked over. “Petyr, my boy. How have you been holding up? Alis came here looking for you. Said you were missing.”

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  Something about the way he said the words put Petyr a little on edge. Was he testing him? Trying to fish some clues as to whether he was telling the truth or not?

  “No, no, I wasn’t...” he said, trying not to sound too uncomfortable. “I was just with someone else. I had no idea…”

  Nik gave him a long look, but kept on smiling in a friendly way. His strong hands suddenly dropped down on Petyr’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t have suspected you. Jayne’s father came here, that filthy slagger, saying that the last he saw her she had gone off with you. But don’t you worry, I put him in his proper place. And once we find the person who did it, he’s going to apologize.”

  Why would Nik have done that? Gods. Petyr had no love for Jayne’s father—and barely knew him, really—but the idea that the man might’ve been disciplined somehow for suspecting him…

  That just makes me feel awful…

  “Mora and I did see her last, but…” Petyr tried to think back to that moment at sunset as she walked off. The thought that Jayne was just dead now, gone forever, seemed a little surreal. “I should’ve probably taken her back home. I was the one who brought her all the way out there. I shouldn’t have let her go back alone…”

  Nik’s dark eyes locked on his for a while and stayed there, as if he were peering into his very soul. “No, probably not, my boy.” His hands slipped away from Petyr’s shoulders and he sighed. “But you couldn’t have known what would happen. And I trust you.”

  “It was probably that damn pirate,” Petyr suggested.

  “I don’t think so…” said Mora quietly.

  “Of course it was!” he snapped. “Who else would have done it? Everyone in this town knows Jayne is harmless. She’s just… just some peasant girl! Why would someone kill her like that? For what? For what!?”

  Though he had initially taken the news of her passing with ease, he himself was surprised by how worked up he had gotten now. At first it seemed a bit too much, almost surreal, like a thing that couldn’t have happened, that couldn’t be real. But now that he knew that it was, now he felt he shared a part of the guilt…

  “I’m going to kill whoever killed her,” he growled.

  Nik slapped him. Petyr flinched and gasped, surprised by the hit. Nik had never laid a hand on him in his life.

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Nik said firmly. “You’re just a kid, and you’ve got nothing to do with any of this.”

  “But that pirate, Nik, you have to—”

  “He’s not the one,” he said. “Do you understand? I’ve looked into the man’s eyes. He may be many things—and a killer, no doubt—but he’s not the kind to kill like that. Even bad men have their limits.” For a moment, it seemed like he was speaking of himself.

  “Maybe—”

  The conversation got cut short by Mora’s loud gasp. “It’s…”

  Petyr turned around and saw a man walking up the path, flanked by two companions. To his left there was a tall sun-kissed blonde with short hair, prominent cheekbones, and a sharp jawline. To his right, there was a hulking figure of pure muscle with gleaming black skin and a face which had been deeply scarred by burns or worse.

  The man in front was the shortest of the three, pale and dark-haired, with bowl cut and an anchor beard. He was weirdly barefoot, and wore a bright green jacket that was tight around the arms but puffy around his shoulders, almost resembling a jester’s, yet with nothing else underneath.

  Petyr glanced at Mora and Nik, both of whom seemed to understand what was going on. “Could that be…”

  “Anders.”