her bloodline or allegiances from her appearance, save for the gray robes and cheville announcing her attachment to the Stone Guild.
“I’m no enemy to you,” Canus said, though he sounded uncertain.
Snakekiller snorted and moved the tip of her blade forward as if to hook the cloth obscuring Canus’s features. “Then uncover yourself and let me see your face.”
The man leaned back to prevent her from exposing him, but he made no move to draw his own sword.
“I’m no enemy to you,” he repeated. “I’m not looking for you, or for this boy.”
“Neither were the Brailing guardsmen who killed my companion and his apprentice, and our oxen and mules.” Snakekiller kept her sword at the ready, unwilling to surrender her advantage.
Nic took in her words slowly, understanding but not wanting to believe that Hasty and Terrick were dead.
“H-how?” he stammered, but Snakekiller didn’t answer him.
Canus once more lowered his hands, curling his fingers to fists. “Which way did the murderers go? Tell me and I’ll see to it that your companions are avenged.”
Snakekiller laughed, though the sound was harsh. “There are none left. I burned all nine of them with Hasty and Terrick, in the copse of trees yonder, should you wish to count the bones.”
“Nine.” Canus sounded impressed, though his fists remained clenched like he wished he could beat the dead guardsmen himself, just to be certain of their demise. “You’ve almost doubled my best count. I managed only five on my last outing.”
At this, Snakekiller finally stepped back, though her sword remained raised. “Canus. Canus the Bandit. We’ve heard tell of you on our journey.”
Canus laughed, making the cloth over his face shiver in the cool morning air. “I suppose those murdering Brailing bastards consider me a greater criminal than themselves. If you’ve heard of me, then you know I’m more friend to you than foe, even if you do hail from Triune. Have most of this year’s Harvest parties returned to the stronghold?”
Snakekiller tensed, as if getting ready to spring, and her next words came out with enough menace to rival the threatening aura Nic kept sensing from the cloth-wrapped man. “I wouldn’t know—and why would you need to?”
Canus moved his right hand closer to his sword, but kept his tone light. “I have my reasons.”
Snakekiller remained silent, waiting him out, and Nic once more wished he was capable of drawing a weapon and standing beside her. He felt foolish and useless, trapped by his own infirmity, too afraid to move more than a step from the wagon lest dizziness knock him to his knees again.
“I’m searching for a boy,” Canus said, apparently deciding to trust Snakekiller with that much information. “A boy with loud blue eyes. He’s a Harvest prize, but not a new one, and he would be traveling with a High Master of Stone, a man with rank-marks on both cheeks and his forehead, like your own.”
Canus pointed to his own face, to indicate the position of the benedets he described.
At this, Nic once more had to grab the wagon’s sideboard for balance. His mind filled with rapid-moving images of a boy, a boy ringed with a legacy so blue and bright that it blinded him.
He’s talking about the boy I keep seeing on the other side of the Veil.
Did Snakekiller realize that?
Nic almost called out to her, but thought better of it before he spoke.
“Our conversation is finished.” Snakekiller was obviously furious or frightened. Nic had trouble telling those emotions apart, where she was concerned. “Take yourself away from here, or I’ll add you to the pyres in the trees.”
“You won’t get far with him on foot.” Canus pointed to Nic, who was still clinging to the wagon. “Cobb’s grasslands are full of raiding Guard. They’re desperate, with another winter coming on and supplies already so low. Let me help you to the next village, at least.”
Snakekiller gave a single shake of her head. “We’ll take our chances, Bandit. Go now, before I regret my decision to let you live.”
Canus hesitated a few moments, then gave a quick bow. “As you wish.”
With that, he turned and strode away, across the vast, empty plains, toward nothing, as far as Nic could see.
For a long time, Snakekiller remained between Nic and the retreating man, until he became nothing but a dark, moving speck on the horizon.
“Where is he going?” Nic asked as she finally lowered her sword.
“Likely to the farming village we passed last night, while you were sleeping.” Snakekiller sheathed her blade, and her shoulders