The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,12

all the trouble of building the city here in the first place?”

Just for a second, surprise showed in his eyes. But then they turned thoughtful, and he nodded. “Oh yes, I see. He founded the city here and then could make his money back from the mines.”

“In vaultfuls,” I said. What other reason could there be? The Painted Valley held nothing else but sand and sagebrush. Ninavel had to import or conjure everything needed to survive. Without the enormous wealth from the mines, the city would’ve failed in a season. Instead, Sechaveh and his heirs were now richer than the most outrageous tales of Varkevian sultans, and plenty of others had clawed their way to riches on his coat hem in the hundred years since he’d founded Ninavel. Sechaveh himself was a popular tavern topic streetside. Some said he had to be a mage, arguing no man could live as long as he had without magic. Others disagreed, pointing out his large numbers of descendants and the well-known fact that mages can’t have kids. They said Sechaveh was so wealthy he could pay for immortality the way other men paid for healing charms.

“About the mountains...” Kiran’s face shone with eager interest. I waved a hand at him to continue. So long as he stuck to questions any new hire straight from an inner district might ask, he could ask away. “What you said this morning—do you really go alone up there?”

“Yup.”

His eyes went wide as a snow owl’s. “But why?”

“Convoys only need real climbing outriders in the early and late seasons. In high summer, it’s no problem to travel through. A man’s gotta eat the rest of the year round.” I didn’t bother telling him the real reason for my solo trips. I couldn’t imagine anything better than a summer spent climbing in the Whitefires. I’d long since given up trying to explain the allure of the high peaks to my city friends. Most of them just thought I was crazier than a rabid kitfox.

“But...” He frowned. “How do you make money, then, if you’re not with a convoy?”

“The Whitefires hold plenty of profitable goods, if you know where to look.” His confused frown didn’t change, so I went on. “Take carcabon stones. Charm dealers’ll pay good coin for any big enough to boost a charm’s power, and the cliffs here are studded with ’em. Chefs drool over cloudberries, midwives want jullan leaves...you get the idea. I find stuff, bring it back, sell it and resupply, then head back up. Until the season’s over and the winter storms come, and then nobody goes up there until spring.”

“Oh! I never...” He cut himself off, real short. Then tried to hide it by rattling on. “What do you do in the winter?”

If he’d been about to say he’d never known where highside delicacies like cloudberries came from, then thank Khalmet he’d shut up in time. Old Harken wasn’t even pretending to sleep, now. I realized Kiran was still waiting for my answer.

“If I have a good enough summer, I don’t have to do anything in the winter.” Which wasn’t a lie, exactly, but I certainly wasn’t going to get into details on the shadow games I played in the city. Especially since they’d all involved Jylla.

“Ho, Dev!” Cara cantered out of the settling dust cloud.

Fucking finally. “Come on, Kellan.” I waited impatiently while Kiran climbed back on his horse. “I owe you one,” I muttered to Cara.

She vaulted onto the wagon’s outboard. “I know.” Her smug smile said she’d collect on it, too. She flipped a hand in a mocking little wave. “Have fun, boys.”

I had Kiran ride in front of me, ostensibly so I could watch how he handled the horse. In truth, I wanted to keep an eye on the drovers’ reactions as the heavily laden wagons rumbled past us. Several drovers raised their hats to me, but their eyes slid off Kiran as if he weren’t even there. His look-away charm was working, all right.

Pello’s wagon was the second of five marked with the circle and hammer of Horavin House, near the end of the line. Pello himself sat slouched on the frontboard with his mule team’s reins dangling idly from one hand. He studied Kiran with undisguised interest as we approached, unaffected by the charm. Kiran shifted uneasily in his saddle and shot a glance back at me. I willed him to stay silent.

“Dev, I never thought to see a man like you with an apprentice,” Pello called