The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,5

cover our tracks, I could spirit Melly away and set her up proper in a new life far from Ninavel.

“I’m sorry, Dev.” Liana put a gentle hand on my arm. “You all right? I heard about you and Jylla...”

I gritted my teeth. “Oh, for Khalmet’s sake. You’d think someone had stood on top of the Alton Tower and announced it.”

“But you two’ve been together since your Change! I don’t understand. Just because she found a highside mark to squeeze dry...that kind of game never bothered you before.” Concern was all over Liana’s wide brown eyes and round face. I bit back a sour smile. Thank Khalmet, Liana didn’t know the half of it. I shrugged and made an effort to sound cheerful.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got a job going, I’m heading out to Kost. That’s why I came, wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

“Oh good, I know how you love the mountains. But we’ll miss you, me and the kids both.” She gave me a little, wistful smile. “Take care of yourself out there, huh? Don’t get eaten by wolves.”

It always amused me what city people like Liana thought about the mountains. Wolves. Ha. More like avalanches and falling rocks and late-season storms. “Right. I’ll make sure to fend off the wolves, and I’ll bring you and the kids something from Kost.”

Her eyes lit up, and for a moment I could see the skinny, shy little girl she’d once been. She always did love presents. I slipped a few coins into her hand. “Thanks for the news. Keep an eye out for Melly, huh?”

“You know I’ll try,” Liana said softly. I got up from the table, after another glance at Melly’s fiery hair. Grow slow, kid, I urged her silently. I just need a few more weeks.

***

(Kiran)

Kiran shifted from foot to foot beside a trellis covered in night-blooming jasmine. For the hundredth time, he stared up at the pattern of stars visible above Lizaveta’s courtyard wall. The hour of his rendezvous with Dev was fast approaching. Yet without Lizaveta’s promised aid, he dared not leave Ninavel. His magic was no match for Ruslan’s. Ruslan would hunt him down with the lazy ease of a sandcat, the instant he realized Kiran had fled the city. Kiran plucked a moonflower from a nearby vine, then crushed the blossom in a fist. Lizaveta had told him to come to her garden, assured him of her help...but would she keep her word? She’d known Kiran since he was a child, but she’d known Ruslan far longer.

The patter of feet on stone made him whirl. A somber youth in the pale robe of a servant slipped through the courtyard gate. His eyes downcast, he handed Kiran a sealed packet. Lizaveta’s personal sigil lay in glowing violet lines over the warded seal.

Kiran placed his hand over the seal. Power stung his senses, delicate and sharp as a cat’s claws, and the seal cracked open. He unfolded the packet, which proved to contain a jeweled silver disc on a thin chain, and a note in Lizaveta’s spiky handwriting.

The amulet will hide you so long as you abstain from magic. You have until dawn tomorrow before Ruslan returns. Use the time wisely.

Kiran let out a shaky breath. The servant was already retreating. “Wait,” he said. Obediently, the youth turned. “Tell her—” Kiran stopped. Loss and regret tangled with gratitude in his throat. “Tell her, athanya solaen.” A farewell, one of the scant phrases he knew of Lizaveta’s native tongue. He’d heard Ruslan say it to her, once.

The youth bowed, and vanished into the darkness beyond the gate. Kiran balanced Lizaveta’s note on his palm, and called fire from within. Blue flames devoured the note and remained, dancing, in his cupped hand.

Such a small thing, for the last act of magic he would ever perform.

The flames vanished as Kiran snapped his hand shut. Ruthlessly, he crushed the yearning they left behind. Alisa had lost her life. His own losses paled in comparison.

***

The Aran Fountain stood still and silent, its stone bowl empty of all but starlight. Lord Sechaveh only ran city fountains on his favorite feast days; to do otherwise would be a shocking waste of water. The square appeared as empty as the fountain. Kiran’s stomach sank. Where was Dev? Had he changed his mind?

On the far side of the fountain, a shadow moved. Kiran sighed in relief when it resolved into Dev’s short, wiry form. He tried to force his muscles to relax. He had to