prepare what we can and, once we locate the undeads, if possible, we do exactly what we did before: track them down and take them before sunset. It would have worked last time had we found them more quickly."

Leesil felt his tension ebb but not completely. There were only so many times he could evade her, and he was using them up.

"Yes, if we do this right," he offered, "there may not even be much of a fight."

"Or need to burn anything down," she snapped without looking at him.

Her tone wasn't truly accusing, but even if it had been, it wouldn't have mattered. She'd been unconscious and bleeding to death with her throat slashed open. Rashed was after them, and there was no other option. So he'd burned Miiska's largest warehouse down—and he'd do it again without a second thought. There was no argument as to what came first as he sat there watching her.

Leesil folded his hands on the table and looked down at the scar of teeth marks on his tanned wrist.

"If there's a fight, if you're cut again," he said, trying to reassure her, "I'll be there for you. I know what to do now."

When he raised his head, Magiere glared at him, eyes wide. Her words came out in a hiss of breath.

"Don't ever say that to me again."

Her hands pressed hard into the table, and Leesil thought he heard a creak from the wood. Teeth clenched, her expression was caught between fear and anger, and she looked at him as if he were an undead.

"Magiere, I just meant—"

"I know what you meant."

She pushed back from the table. Leesil saw her anger fade, to be replaced by something painful in her blinking eyes.

"I'm tired," she whispered. "I'm going up to sleep."

"You need to eat. I was trying to offer assurance. This isn't the old game. I just wanted you to know I will be with you, no matter what it takes."

"Don't be such a dolt," she said, and her voice returned to its familiar, bad-tempered tone. "I could never do any of this without you—and Chap."

Leesil's heart pounded in his chest as he nodded. He was uncertain what had just happened, but now was obviously not the time to press for answers.

"I have an idea," he said. "Bela's a large city, the biggest port on this end of the continent, and all we've done is work. Let's forget the mutton stew and find a bit of something special. There's bound to be a high-class inn or an exotic eatery around here. We can't do anything else until tomorrow, so why not enjoy ourselves?"

"Aren't you tired?" she asked in mild disbelief.

"Exhausted. My feet are going to fall off any moment." He grinned. "But let's go anyway."

He watched her expression relax, and though he rarely tried to charm her as he did with others, he knew his expressive moods were infectious.

"We don't know how long we'll be here." She shook her head. "Our coins have to last. I think we've enough to keep us for a while if we're careful."

Leesil collapsed upon the table with an audible groan.

"All right, enough dramatics," she said. "You said you bartered for whatever that smith is making, and there are still the coins you took back on the schooner. So I suppose we can afford what you have leftover."

Leesil's breath caught in his throat, and he tried not to let his checks flush as he raised his head with an innocent look. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I—"

"Did you lose it?" she asked. "Not all of it? To those sailors?"

"Well, I had to pay for my share of their grog, and then I lost a few hands of Jack o‘ Knives, just to be polite. I was about to start winning when Chap sounded the alarm and—"

"You were too drunk to fight!" Magiere shouted, and slammed her hand down so hard that the table bounced. "I've seen you fight with your face slashed open, but you're a second-rate gambler even when you're sober."

"I am not!"

"I can't believe you didn't tell me this sooner," she continued. "You lost it all to a bunch of drunken deckhands?"

"I think there are a few pennies left," he offered.

Magiere tried to utter words that simply wouldn't come out, and then she stood up too quickly, knocking her stool over. As she headed for the stairs, she didn't even look back.

"Then you have enough for your evening out," she snarled. "Next time, trust me enough to confess before