The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,13
out.
“There’s a first time for everything, Pello.” I’d wanted a clue about whether his interest in Kiran was specific or only the result of a shadow man’s finely honed curiosity, and I supposed he’d given me one. Surely if he’d been hired to ferret out our plans, he wouldn’t be so damn obvious about it. Unless he’d guessed my intent, and was playing to my assumptions? I cursed under my breath. Mind games like this had always been Jylla’s specialty, not mine.
That thought didn’t improve my mood any. I scowled at Kiran’s back for the rest of the ride past the convoy. Soon as we passed the final wagon, I led the way off the trail and into a gully whose steep sides were dotted with spiny blackshrub. The syrup-sweet smell baking off the branches in the midday sun was chokingly strong. Nobody’d follow us here without good reason. I slowed my horse to an amble.
“We need to talk,” I told Kiran, grimly.
“So I gathered.” His shoulders had tightened up again. “What’s wrong? Is this about that man who spoke to you?”
At least he wasn’t totally oblivious. “Got any ideas why a shadow man’s interested in you?”
He blinked at me. “A what?”
“Freelance spy. Sells information to the highest bidder, with a ganglord as middle man.” Though in Pello’s case, if he’d gone to all the trouble of joining the convoy, he must be on retainer for a specific job. “Pello’s here for a reason, and I need to know if it’s you. If there’s anything you failed to mention back in Ninavel, now would be the fucking time.”
Kiran looked honestly taken aback. “He can’t be here because of me. I told you, no one knew I was leaving Ninavel.”
Oh, for Khalmet’s sake. He couldn’t be that dumb. Right? “No one, huh? What about that banking house of yours? You know for a fact nobody let something slip by accident?”
His eyes had flickered at my sarcastic emphasis on “banking house,” but he raised his chin and met my gaze straight on. “He doesn’t know who I am. Unless your employer was indiscreet.”
I snorted. Bren hadn’t run a successful smuggling business all these years by being sloppy. “Fine, let’s say Pello’s here on another job. That won’t stop him from seeking a little profit on the side. The minute he figures out you’re no streetsider, he’ll sell you out in a flash to Suns-Eye or Koliman, long before we reach the border.”
Kiran jumped as if I’d stabbed him with the business end of a piton. “You mean, Pello can send messages back to Ninavel? How? I thought convoy workers didn’t have access to such powerful charms!”
Interesting. Back in the city, Kiran had claimed he was most concerned about the Alathians at the border. The horror on his face now told a different story. “Ordinary convoy men don’t. But Pello spies on merchant houses for a living. He’ll have something, all right. Maybe not powerful enough to send more than a few words, but with the right codes, that’s all you need.”
“Oh.” Kiran swallowed, hard. “That would be...unfortunate.” He fiddled with his reins, then burst out with, “Once we cross the border, I don’t care what messages Pello sends. But if news of me reaches Ninavel before then, it’ll...it’ll ruin everything!”
I glared at him. “If you’d told me how unfortunate back when I asked, I would’ve done a hell of a lot more to hide you.” A disguise charm powerful enough to wholly alter a man’s appearance cost the moon, especially on such short notice, but I could have demanded Bren produce a second advance.
Kiran flushed and looked down. “I’m sorry. I thought if I stayed anonymous leaving the city, I wouldn’t have to worry about word getting back...” One hand rubbed his chest, over his heart, in an odd, nervous gesture. “What do we do?”
I sighed. “For now, you act your part, and stay clear of Pello. His charm’s likely only strong enough to send one message, maybe two. He won’t use it unless he’s sure he’ll profit.” Meanwhile, I’d have to come up with a plan to cover that scenario. Great. Pello was no fool, and as a shadow man, his experience dwarfed mine in fighting dirty. I scowled all the harder at Kiran. “Anything else you’d like to share, before it bites us in the ass?”
He shook his head, still staring at his saddle horn. Not exactly a response to inspire confidence. I leaned over and grabbed his reins. The