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A slender woman in a burgundy gown do
He gripped the railing, and the wood creaked beneath his fingers in answer to his hunger.
In the last village, he'd lured out a woman of similar make. A mere peasant compared to the one he now watched, but both women's features hinted of the one prey he wanted most of all. Before Welstiel had interrupted him behind the hut among the snow-dusted trees, he'd tried to find solace in tearing warm flesh. Even with blood between his clenching teeth, a missing memory left an ache in him he couldn't smother.
He couldn't remember Wy
He must have fallen immediately, prone upon the ground as his head rolled away. But surely it hadn't been so quick that he remembered nothing of Wy
All he remembered was the brief pain of Magiere's blade through his throat and then waking among blood and corpses with Welstiel sitting impatiently nearby.
And behind that forest hut, he'd bitten deep into the peasant woman's throat as if digging for a memory lost between those two moments. He squeezed the outcry from the woman's mouth until her jaw cracked under his hand. There was the rush of life filling him, and the distant euphoria it carried in the wake of the kill-and nothing more.
And still there was Wy
Chane forced himself to wait at the top of the i
But she was gone. He let his senses open wide.
Footsteps. To the left. Resounding from frozen earth.
Chane saw the space between the buildings around the i
His prey stood in the alley with her back turned, and she was not alone.
A man waited for her, half leaning and half sitting on an emptied ale barrel. He pulled his cloak's hood back, exposing a yellow scarf tied over his hair.
Chane held his place, watching two figures of such different social castes meet in the shadows.
"Wy
"That's it!" Magiere shouted. "You're going home on the first caravan out of here! I don't care if I have to sell our horses to pay for it."
Wy
"Byrd was downstairs talking to an elf," she said.
Leesil stared at her. Any brief escape from the world that the sage had interrupted washed away. Even Magiere paused at struggling to reach her breeches lying on the floor.
"They left together," Wy
"An elf?" Magiere asked. "You're certain?"
Before Wy
"Wy
By the time he and Magiere finished dressing, Chap had rolled out the hide with his nose and paws. The instant Leesil said he was dressed and Wy
"Anmaglahk, "Wy
Leesil sat on the bed, hands planted firmly on its edge. One of his mother's elven caste of assassins was here in the city? And how, for a fact, would Chap know, unless this one dressed the same as…
"Was it Sgaile?" Magiere demanded first, and crouched before the dog. "Was it that butcher sent to kill Leesil in Bela?"
Chap barked twice for "no."
Magiere looked up at Leesil. "You said we could trust Byrd. What's he doing with one of them?"
"Byrd was my father's friend, not mine," Leesil returned. "And I never said we could trust him-any more than anyone in this city."
Leesil's thoughts were too thick with suspicions. Of all places and people, why was it here with Byrd that he ran across more of his mother's kind and caste? He turned his attention back to Chap.
"He was an Anmaglahk?" Leesil asked. "You're sure?"
Chap barked once to confirm this.
Leesil remembered Wy
"Start downstairs," he told Wy
Wy
Leesil waved Chap out, and the dog went after the young sage.
Magiere's anxious expression told Leesil that she wanted to leave, drag him out of this city and never return. Leesil shook his head slowly, and she sighed.
"Let's find Byrd's room," she said.
Her hair hung down around her ivory cheeks, and Leesil turned his eyes away to keep his emotions in check. Sgaile was the one who'd hinted at Nein'a's fate, that she might be alive. If anyone knew more of her or what had happened to Gavril, it would be the Anmaglahk. One had been right here in the i
"We'll get the answers," Magiere said, and put a hand upon his shoulder, leaning close. "But don't you even think about going after that elf."
She kissed him on the mouth. Leesil pulled away slowly. This place- this city of his first life-was a pit he'd toppled them all into. He couldn't afford another distraction, even if Magiere thought it best he forget for a little while. Leesil dug out his tools from their chest.
They checked each door on the upper floor, and he wasn't surprised to find one of them locked.
"Pick it or break it?" Magiere asked.
Leesil frowned.
It was unlikely that Byrd arranged surprises for anyone snooping about. The risk of a wandering patron stumbling into the wrong place was too great. But when he began studying the door instead of the lock, Magiere backed to the side, understanding his caution.
Leesil started with the hinges and then checked the entire frame before carefully inspecting the latch. Finally convinced it was only a locked door, he took a thin hookwire from the toolbox's lid and slipped it into the keyhole. A click answered his efforts.
Byrd's room was ordinary at first glance. Not much different from any at an i