The snow was melting, the ground muddy underfoot, and the breeze was strong enough to whip back and forth the edge of her hood. Therefore, her mood was prickly as she navigated a path of water-filled potholes outside the city, until she reached the first of the Flats’ ramshackle houses, its leaning walls offering her shelter, enabling her to let out a breath and loosen the tension in her shoulders.

  It was mid-morning. She had already placed orders at stores within the city, and now it was time to fill the two canvas sacks she had brought along with her. Marla’s map lay unused inside her pocket.

  Countless errands had made her familiar with the streets and alleys of the Flats, and despite Elspeth’s and Marla’s endless warnings, she considered them profoundly safer than some areas inside the city walls.

  Her stride was confident as she headed toward her first destination. Besker’s Raw Goods was in the midst of a row of stores at the Flats’ outer edge, their rear doors backing onto the fields, from where, no doubt, most of their incoming goods arrived.

  Stacks of bosalder wood, still fragrant despite the cold, lay on either side of the door and she breathed deep. This particular store specialized in fragrances and she always enjoyed her visits.

  Inside, an array of lanterns picked out stacked rows of dried flower stalks. Other florals were tightly bundled and hanging from the rafters until it looked as if an entire harvest was growing above her head and she was standing upside down.

  Kaddie squeezed by two huge barrels of dried petals and approached the rear of the store. Tarvald was in her usual spot, in a corner that served as her workshop. Her wild dark hair was currently tucked neatly beneath her cap, and she took Kaddie’s list with one hand while continuing to crank a small oil press with the other.

  “Something Robles knows that I don’t?” The woman raised an eyebrow.

  Kaddie was prepared to recite the short speech she had already given to the stores within Terohas’s walls, about how water had flooded their store room, various stock items had spoiled and were in need of replenishment. “If eyebrows continue to rise,” Robles had instructed, “tell them anything except the truth.”

  Before she could say a word, the other woman waved her off. “No matter.” She took one of Kaddie’s sacks and headed for a narrow passageway full of boxes and barrels. “Heard about your eye,” she said. “How are you managing?”

  “Still getting to grips with climbing stairs.” Kaddie returned her hands to the pockets of her coat. One held her coin purse and Marla’s map, the other held her sickle and she wondered if there’d be time to visit the cutler and have it sharpened.

  Tarvald laughed. “I had a cousin who lost his right eye. He complained about stairs, too. He then lost his other eye, so don’t go getting careless, young Kaddie.”

  She nodded, and tried to think of something that would shift the conversation. Thankfully, she needn’t have worried. Talk ceased and Tarvald placed the now bulging sack onto a scale. “There’s almost half a silver’s worth. Want me to round it up?”

  Kaddie winced, but nodded. Tarvald carried just about everything you could think of but she wasn’t cheap.

  On leaving the store she discovered the sky had brightened and the wind had dropped. However, part way toward her second destination she became aware of someone walking alongside her.

  “Only now do you see me. A lost eye is a disadvantage, but you can train yourself to compensate.”

  Kaddie stopped and glanced to her left. Her heart began to pound. “Rathburn Brayde.” Her skin turned cold as she resumed walking, faster this time, splashing through puddles she would normally have stepped over.

  “You’re also out on your own,” he continued, easily keeping pace. “Better than hiding and living in fear, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I can take care of myself.” She could see the next store on her list and was behaving like a frightened fool, which was ridiculous after what she had just said. “I’m on my way to the cutler,” she explained, slowing her pace.

  “Me, too.” He offered her his arm. “May I escort you?”

  Not knowing what else to do, Kaddie took his arm, and as they walked she couldn’t help notice how people kept looking at them. “You attract a lot of attention.”

  “You noticed.”

  “Actually, I wanted to ask you something, but I don’t think this is the right place.” Two men were striding by, giving Brayde the once over, oblivious of the puddles beneath their feet. A woman was dragging along two small children, who glanced in her direction then quickly looked away.

  Brayde laughed. “A question that will have me quaking in my boots, no doubt.” As they arrived, he reached for the cutler’s door and held it open.

  Inside, heat from the forge at the rear of the store wafted forth, accompanied by the sharp scent of hot metal. The interior was gloomy. The man behind the counter was tall, broad-shouldered, his thick hands resting lightly on the counter’s scuffed surface.

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  “Brayde,” he boomed, ignoring Kaddie, even though she had arrived first.

  She reached inside her coat, brought out her sickle and placed it with deliberation on the counter.

  “It’ll be another day,” the man continued, still addressing her companion.

  Kaddie cleared her throat. “I’d like this sharpened, please.” She stuck out a defiant chin.

  The cutler regarded her for the first time. “Not one of your tarts, or trainee assassins, then?”

  “This,” Brayde said in mild amusement, “is Matthen Robles’ apprentice.”

  “The poisoner? Last time I heard, it was a girl with two eyes.”

  “Please stop talking about my eyes.” She gestured toward her sickle lying on the counter.

  The cutler raised an eyebrow and picked up the blade. “Might take a while.” He gestured to a nearby stack of knives. “I’ll need to do these first.”

  She pushed two coins across the counter. “Will that be enough?” When he nodded, she turned on her heel.

  “Wait for me,” Brayde said. He whispered something to the cutler. Kaddie saw the man regard her for a moment, and not trusting her temper she strode resolutely out of the door and into the cold.

  Brayde joined her a moment later.

  “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “I told him to hurry up with the knives. Do you still want to ask me that question?”

  “Yes.”

  “Follow me, then.”

  Firmly on the hook via her curiosity, she followed him across the street and into a dilapidated building that seemed about to fall down but gave her a significant surprise once they were beyond its threshold.

  The exterior’s neglect and haphazard structure gave way to a rich, baroque interior. Heavy drapes lined the walls. Elaborate rugs were spread across the floor. Multicolored lanterns hung from the ceiling and made the place seemed magical.

  She saw tables and chairs in the center of the room, booths lining one of the walls, and a bar at the far end. This was obviously a tavern, but it was the most enchanting place she had ever seen.

  Brayde strode confidently inside, giving the impression he’d been here many times before. A quick glance at the other patrons, they were much older than her and mostly male. Some of them glanced her way, giving her the once over, only to look away, disinterested. She felt oddly dismayed.

  Brayde gestured toward an empty booth halfway along the wall, and after unbuckling his scabbard he took a seat.

  Kaddie slid onto the padded bench opposite and set her sack of herbs alongside. She felt horribly out of place and wished she was in the dispensary kitchen, inking labels, boiling tree bark—anywhere but here.

  A woman approached. “Got company today, Rath? What are you having?”

  “Two spiced teas, and no brandy. I’m about to match wits with a formidable opponent.” He winked at Kaddie, who merely frowned.

  When the woman had gone, “What is this place?”

  “This,” he gestured with a flourish, “is the Red Wharf.”

  “I thought wharfs were built alongside water?”

  “They are. The city of Terohas was built on the side of a lake.”

  She gasped. “I had no idea.” She turned about, as if she could stare beyond the walls and into the fields. “Was it the Shale dams that took the water?”

  “The dams, yes, and an extensive period of drought, so I’ve heard.” Their spiced tea arrived, and despite Kaddie’s protests, Brayde paid for both cups. “So,” he said when they were alone once more.

  Kaddie took a deep breath. “Did you kill Nianne Lassing’s father?”

  He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “He fancied himself a swordsman. He wasn’t bad for an old man, either. Alas…”

  “He died in a duel?”

  “I didn’t just cut him down, if that’s what you were thinking. He was offered a way out and decided not to take it.”

  “Others died. Nianne was poisoned.”

  “That’s how it goes during a family coup. Do you think the capital’s way is better? Raising armies and slaughtering one another in their hundreds? As for overseas—”

  “It doesn’t make what happened here any better.”

  “I agree. But like I said, that’s how it goes. Better get used to it and keep your head down. There’s no need to look favorably on any of the four families, either. Their best interests rarely coincide with ours.”

  Kaddie picked up her cup and sipped her tea, staring at him beyond its brim, her expression hopefully telling him that his actions at the palace were still reprehensible as far as she was concerned.

  “You should ask Robles,” he added after a moment. “Persuade him to let you to visit Enthas with me, one day.”

  Kaddie’s grip hardened on her cup. “Why?”

  “So you could witness the world’s ambiguities.”

  “No. There’s too much work to do, and I don’t think it would be proper.”

  He laughed. “Oh, you’d be perfectly safe with me on that score. Something else you could ask Robles about.” He winked and drained his cup.

  She continued to stare, although she couldn’t keep it up for long. Others were now glancing in their direction, including two men at an adjacent table, one of them staring lovingly at Brayde’s sword.

  “Do you always attract this much attention?”

  “It goes with the territory. I’ve also have done you a favor. No one here is coming after your other eye, I can promise you that. The likes of us need to stick together, Kaddie. Things will change in the days to come, and not for the better.”

  Glancing at her sacks of herbs she was in full agreement on the latter. As for the former, just a short while in his company and she’d been considered a tart, or an assassin; it was outrageous and she felt completely out of her depth.

  There was also the question of her retribution list and how far up he might be. After the events at the palace he had to be on there somewhere, but exactly where she was no longer sure. Things were becoming muddy and complicated. Sworn enemies, it seemed, should not be regarded as such all the time.

  But where did that leave her? Whom could she trust? Once again she was reminded of her grandfather’s lesson on her very first night in the city.

  Brayde was regarding her from the other side of the table. “So, any more questions?”

  She shook her head, while her dismay grew. To her right, the man who’d been staring surreptitiously at Brayde’s weapon was now looking at her. She matched his stare until he looked away. Her companion laughed as he rose from the booth. “Shall we?” He reached for his scabbard.

  When they were outside, under a brooding sky that threatened rain at any minute, “Heading back into the city?”

  “No. I’ve other places to visit and I need to collect my sickle.”

  “Until the next time, then.” He offered her a polite bow, then turned and walked away along the muddy thoroughfare. A chilly breeze tugged at her coat as she watched him disappear into the crowd.

  The cutler was all business, thankfully not as dismissive as the last time, and offered her a cryptic message which barely registered. “Tell the poisoner, I’ll have what he wants in three days.”

  A visit to two more herbalists to collect the necessary supplies of gurtian, purple grenita and strifefire, and she was back inside the city before she realized where she was. Had she stood in line in order to get through the gate? She had little recollection of it, such was her preoccupation with Rathburn Brayde.