Covenant's End - Ari Marmell Page 0,6

got in response was apologetic, but not very. And if Shins were being honest with herself—something she tried to avoid doing too much these days, as a matter of policy, but couldn't seem to help—she had been a bit quick to pooh-pooh the notion. Often as she'd been scoffed at for trying to warn people about Iruoch, she ought to be a bit more generous with the benefit of the doubt.

On the other hand, she was smarter and less superstitious than most people, if she said so herself.

And she had, on more than one occasion.

“I'll be careful,” she assured the fretting god. “Won't take anything for granted. But I'm pretty sure we can deal with whatever it is.”

We are going home, gods drum it!

Widdershins attacked her food, then, more as a point of emphasis than because her appetite had returned. For some time, she knew only the clatter of tableware, the taste of beef not too badly overcooked and not too heavily over-seasoned, and the background buzz of conversation.

It took her a moment to recognize Olgun tapping on her emotional shoulder. When she did, she felt his attention directed at a specific table behind her.

“Is it safe to turn and look?” she asked under her breath.

No mistaking the negative in his reply.

“All right.” She examined the table before her. The plate was wood, the utensils unpolished. The ale?

Widdershins tapped the flagon with one finger. “Is the light right? Can you make this work?”

A very tentative yes, and an admonishment that he couldn't for long.

“It'll do.”

Carefully, she gripped her drink, waited until she felt the familiar tingling in the air that heralded the god's limited magics.

This is going to be cold, uncomfortable, and really embarrassing if Olgun's not able to manage it. She thought of pointing that out aloud, then decided not to give him any ideas; he just might decide it'd make an amusing prank.

When the prickling sensation reached its apex, Shins lifted the flagon to eye level and tilted it completely horizontally.

For a few seconds, against all natural laws, the liquid within held fast rather than spilling, creating a dark pool into which she gazed. It wasn't much of a reflection, but it was enough for her to get the gist of what Olgun had wanted her to see.

A lone man sat at the indicated table, and—since her back was to him—he made no effort to hide the fact that he studied her intensely.

“Oh, for pastry's sake!” Shins sighed and lowered the beverage. “Ah, well. It's been a couple months since anyone tried spying on us. Guess we were due, yes?”

She wondered briefly what the stranger had seen of her trick with the ale, what he thought had just happened. Doubtless he'd assume the cup was empty, that any sense otherwise was a trick of the light.

A few more mouthfuls of supper, just to keep everything nice and casual looking. Next, with a deliberately inflated sigh of contentment, she leaned back, once more tilting the chair until it balanced precariously on its back legs.

And then she allowed it to topple.

The room jumped around her as her perspective plummeted, but vertigo and Shins were old colleagues. She'd fallen into a backward roll and was again on her feet before the chair stopped bouncing. A quick pivot followed by a spin of the empty chair opposite the spy so that it faced backward, and she was settled again. She straddled the seat, arms crossed on the back of the chair, and looked straight into the man's ever-widening stare.

“Hi.”

Then, under her breath, while the stranger struggled for words, “Yes, I could have just stood up and walked over, but where's the fun in—? Please, I didn't draw that much attention, only…oh. Well, there aren't that many people here, anyway. Besides, we caught him off guard, yes?

“You know,” she continued, once more in a normal tone, “I'm pretty sure you're doing it wrong. If you mean to be eating, you should be putting something in your mouth, and if you mean to be talking, there should be sounds coming out. This empty chewing is just odd. You look like a fish.”

“Uh…”

“A confused fish.”

“I—”

“Trying to ask for directions.”

“What are you doing?!” he finally managed to squeak.

Shins studied him, unblinking. Mousy brown hair, drooping mustache, clothes that wouldn't stand out even if they were on fire…basically, the sort of person who was so average, it made him distinct.

“I,” she said finally, “I'm waiting for you to explain why you've been watching me.”

“I—I don't know what