The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,138

when he turned on the gap’s far side. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the gap slowly shrunk away to nothing. His charm gave a last green pulse, and all the color vanished, the border fading back into invisibility.

One heavily laden horse, three people, and Simon looked in no condition to speed their travel with a spell. Good.

“Soon as they’re gone, I’ll climb down,” I whispered to Cara. “When I whistle, shoot Pello—but don’t kill him.”

Cara glanced at me, her brows raised in surprise. I nodded, firmly.

She tapped the longsight charm and waggled her hand. I nodded again, to show I understood even a longsight charm might not guarantee that kind of precision. Try, I mouthed.

She gave me a look like she thought me brain-burned, but bent to peer through the engraved copper ring of the sighting charm.

On the far side of the border, Simon clambered up on the horse. Kiran sat slumped in front of him, his legs tied to either side of the saddle and Simon’s arm tight around his waist to keep him upright. The guardsman stuffed Simon’s warded box into a pack, heaved it on his back, and took up the horse’s lead. They moved off into the woods, heading east toward the river.

Pello muttered something and raked his hands through his curls. After a moment, he began pacing beside the carriage, his expression dark and inward. Trying to figure a way to survive, no doubt.

I scrambled down the tree, quiet as I could. Edged through the kamma bushes toward the clearing, and paused. By now, Simon should be close enough to the river that the roar of water would mask other noises. Pello was still pacing. Cara should have a good sightline.

I whistled, softly. Pello whirled, a blade dropping into his hand.

Cara’s crossbow bolt slammed into his left shoulder. He let out a strangled yelp and toppled backward into the ferns. I rushed forward, kicked his knife away, and planted a knee in his stomach. Gripping the protruding bolt with one hand, I laid my knife against his throat with the other.

“Spark a charm, and you die.” I put pressure on the knife. Blood trickled down his throat to join the spreading stain on his shoulder.

He choked and spat, “You blind little fool! Now, you choose to act?”

“Yeah, now. When you and I can have a chat without any interference from your gods-damned master.”

Pello twisted under me, and I yanked on the bolt. He groaned, his face going gray, and wheezed out, “Simon is no master of mine. I work for the lord of Ninavel, curse you!”

Nice try, but I knew better. “I saw Simon search your mind. You’d be dead now if you worked for Sechaveh. You’re nothing but a greedy little rat who wanted a chance at going highside.”

“You saw...” He shut his eyes, and gave a pained laugh. “Shaikar take me, no wonder you refused my offer. Yes, Simon searched my mind...but not deeply, his power restricted by fear of the Council’s wards. When I gave him what he expected to see, he looked no further.”

“You expect me to believe you could fool a blood mage?” He must think me a total idiot.

“It would never work, in Arkennland.” He coughed, and groaned again, his copper skin sallow. “Little good it did me. He cast a binding that near crippled my ability to work against him. I’d thought to free the boy, but when Simon found I’d spoken to him, he forbade me any further contact, until the end...I sought to enlist your help, but you were too wary of me.”

Gods, but he had a smooth tongue. Almost, I could believe him. Except... “A binding so strong it prevented a shadow man from finding a way to tip off the Alathians? Yeah, right.”

Pello grimaced. “My orders...I was to involve the Alathians only as a last resort. Simon Levanian knows much that Sechaveh does not wish in foreign hands.” He stopped, panting. Swallowed, and continued. “At the first, we only knew that after years of silent exile, Simon Levanian sought an observer to shadow a young man traveling with a convoy...I was tasked to accept the job, to discover what Simon wanted, and why. By the time I learned the truth, my options were few.”

He shut his eyes again. “I hoped you played your own game...I gave you every chance I could to reach the boy. I’d arranged for a diversion down riverside to distract Simon. I thought if I’d misread you, or if