Tavin flicked his hand at her. “Pass a couple for me and Jas, will you?”
“Can’t. Hands’re full.” Fie took another monstrous bite.
The Hawk muttered a curse and scrambled to reach the panbread heap before the others. Pa scarce had time to dash salt over two rounds before Tavin snatched them away. Prince Jasimir shot Fie a dirty look over the campfire, waiting while Tavin bit off a scrap of each, chewed them over, then tore off the untouched halves and handed them to the prince.
There was a moment’s peace as Pa salted panbread and passed it to Crows. Then Prince Jasimir spoke up. “Your glamour’s wearing off.”
Tavin swallowed with a grimace. “We can leave it for a few days.”
“Don’t they have Peacock teeth? They can fix it.” The prince jerked his head at Pa.
Pa raised his eyebrows. “You’ve a Peacock glamour, then?”
Tavin nodded. “For my face. I mean, I’m Jas’s double for a reason, but you can still tell us apart without one.”
Fie pursed her lips. So far, the only difference she’d spotted betwixt the lordlings was which one mummed at liking the Crows.
“Sorry, lads. We don’t have enough spare Peacock teeth to glamour you all the way to Cheparok. And on that notion…” Pa dropped a wheel of dough onto the hot griddle, then pointed his tongs at the lordlings’ fraying topknots. “Those? They have to go.”
He was right. Both lordlings had inherited a gold cast to their brown skin from the northern Hawks, but it’d take a close study to pick them out from Crows, and their dark hair and eyes only helped. The topknots, though … those would mark them for royals on sight.
“Absolutely not.” Prince Jasimir recoiled. “I’ll just keep my hood up. I’m sure you have long-haired Crows.”
“Only ones that fancy lice,” Wretch chipped in as she nabbed a piece of panbread and held it out for Pa’s salt.
Behind her, Swain let out an unvarnished laugh. “Madcap bet me two naka these boys would blow their own cover by the end of the day. I bet we wouldn’t make it to a league marker. At this rate I’m bound for fortunes.”
“Because I won’t cut my hair?” the prince asked, stiff.
Fie prayed the boys wouldn’t be this tedious the whole way. “Because you’d fuss the chief over it.”
“I’m sure you don’t follow his every little suggestion to the letter,” Tavin said with the slick assurance of an unscathed blade.
Pa scratched at his gray-flecked beard, but his face stayed mild. “Aye, Swain. You’re bound for fortunes.”
“Be serious.” Prince Jasimir’s lip curled as Swain and Wretch retreated. “You can’t truly expect us to obey your every command until we reach the Fan.”
Pa flipped the panbread. “You’re smart lads. I expect you’ll do what’s needed.”
Tavin stood and cracked his knuckles. “How much longer until we leave?”
“The Fan’s a province, not a debtor,” Pa answered, watching the dough. “It won’t be running out on us anytime soon.”
“If Rhusana takes the throne, she’ll want to do it on the solstice, two moons from now.” The prince’s face had frosted over. “My father could be dead before the end of Peacock Moon.”
“Chief swore to find people who like you,” Hangdog sneered over Fie’s shoulder. He’d risen at last. “No surprise that’ll take a while.”
Tavin’s expression stayed sharp but polite. “How much longer?” he asked again.
“An hour, if that, ’til we’re on the road.” Pa scratched a rough map in the dirt with one finger, tracing the route to come. “The walk from here to Cheparok … I say it’ll take a week, if we’re lucky.”
“‘Lucky’?” Tavin picked up his sword. “A crone could walk there in four days.”
Besom swatted him on the shin.
Fie froze. Tavin had been beastly clear about not being touched by Crows.
But he just laughed and sheathed his blade. By Fie’s eye, it hadn’t needed sharpening in the slightest. “Apologies.”
Pa flipped more dough as Barf the cat stretched and climbed from Besom’s lap. “Lucky means we only have to answer one plague beacon, and it’s close to the road. Unlucky means that beacon’s a day’s walk out, and there’s a day’s work there and a day’s walk back.”
“That’s unacceptable.” Tavin was more sharp than polite now.
Fie had had enough of the Hawk’s paper threats. She got to her feet. “Take it up with the Covenant.”
“Don’t speak to him like that,” Prince Jasimir snapped.
“Don’t speak to Pa like that,” she spat back.
Tavin turned his glass-hard stare on her, and a warning glinted in his tone. “You’re addressing the crown prince