“Where did you get those?” she blurted.
Bazel picked up the ring and handed it to the woman, who examined it closely. “The master doesn’t mind if we keep souvenirs from our missions.”
“But you haven’t—” he shot her a warning look, and she finished—“any idea how much these are worth, do you?”
“The master is very rich,” Bazel said. “And here in these caves, they’re worth nothing.”
“Officially,” the woman put in, fingering the ring.
Bazel grinned at her. The woman smiled back, and he flushed ever so slightly.
“We’ll give you five bags of chocolate and a cask of Vaeran red wine,” the woman said, slipping the ring into her sleeve and lacing her fingers over one knee. “It’s overly generous, but we’re on our way to those very same Renegai, and we lost a horse in the mountains, so we need the extra space. There’s a shortage of dainar in the capital right now.”
“Dainar?” Ileni said sharply. Dainar was an extract of the albalia tree, necessary for a number of spells. Producing it was the occupation of many unskilled Renegai.
The woman nodded. “Valuable stuff. The imperial sorcerers pay almost anything we ask for it.”
“We—the Renegai—don’t trade with the Empire,” Ileni said stiffly.
“No, of course not,” the blond man agreed, crouching next to the jewelry. “There’s no call for Empire-made goods in the Renegai village. I don’t know why we’re wasting our time making a stop.”
The woman sighed, shooting him an admonishing look—he smirked unrepentantly—then looked with weary patience at Ileni. “When you get over your outraged disbelief, you might think about whether you want a message sent to someone among your people. I can make sure they get it. And bring a message back, if there is one. We’ll be stopping here again before we head to the capital.”
Tellis. The longing that tore through Ileni hurt like the ripping open of an old wound. She bit her lip for a full second before making herself say, “No. There’s no one.”
The woman simply waited, as if expecting Ileni to change her mind. Did she know something? Had Tellis asked her . . .
No. That was ridiculous. Tasting blood on her lip, Ileni added defiantly, “Thank you anyhow.”
“I don’t think it was going to be a favor,” Bazel observed.
The woman leaned over and pulled a cloth bag out of the boat. “Of course not. We’re traders.”
“What makes you think she has anything to trade?”
“Everyone has something to trade.” The woman smiled. “Speaking of which, I have a surprise for you.”
Bazel leaned in eagerly. “What is it?”
“Something new.” The woman straightened, dangling the bag from one hand. “Cacao ground to powder. Mix it with water and it’s better than wine. More expensive, though. You have anything else for us?”
Bazel considered. “Not yet. Sayon is on a mission now, and I know he’ll bring back something to trade if he survives. I’ll save some of this for him, and give you whatever he brings back in exchange.”
The woman frowned. “Where was he sent?”
“Gadera. His target is one of the duke’s sons, so he’ll be in the castle. Plenty of opportunities to snatch some expensive baubles, and there’s a good chance he’ll make it out alive, too.”
“Though Sayon doesn’t have the greatest taste, if I recall correctly,” the blond man put in, running his fingers over the black pearls. “I gave my wife one of his last acquisitions as a gift, and I slept in the stables for a week.”
Bazel shrugged with elaborate casualness. “You can wait and see what he’s brought, and decide then.”
“We’re traders,” the man said, “not gamblers.” But he was smiling.
The woman made a slight motion with her hand. “All right. We’ll give you the powder in return for whatever Sayon brings back—”
“And,” the blond man spoke up, letting the pearls drop back to the ground, “for sharing some cups with us now.”
The woman turned to him, her face somehow amused despite the grim line of her mouth. The blond man propped an elbow on one knee. “Oh, come on, Karyn. To give us strength for the journey out.”
She rolled her eyes. “Very well.”
That struck Ileni as a bad idea. This secret meeting seemed risky enough without extending it. Clearly, however, it wasn’t up to her. Bazel had already settled cross-legged on the ground, and the blond man was efficiently pulling four large cups and a stoppered clay jug from the bottom of the canoe.
The woman—Karyn—finally deigned to get out of the boat. She was wearing a long green tunic belted at the waist, thick black leggings, and boots that had seen better days. She settled next to Bazel, leaned back on her hands, and said, “How do you like living among killers?”
It took Ileni a moment to realize the question was directed at her, since the woman was looking out at the black water. Irritation prickled through her. Was this habit of not looking at the person she was speaking to supposed to make Karyn seem coy and mysterious? “About as much as you like trading with them, I would guess. Or maybe less, since I don’t do it by choice.”
“I come from a long line of traveling traders,” Karyn said. “Where there’s great profit to be made, I don’t have a choice, either.”
How nicely overdramatic. “Even at the risk of your life?”
“I do what I can to minimize that risk,” Karyn said. “Like instructing Bazel to always come alone.”
Bazel flushed and opened his mouth. Ileni spoke before he could. “Not his fault. I forced him to bring me.”
Finally, Karyn looked at her. Ileni looked back, doing her best to appear dangerous. If she had managed for the past month to hide her fear from trained killers, she certainly wasn’t going to be intimidated by a trader.
Their locked gazes broke only when the blond man passed around the cups, now filled with a mixture of water and the fine brown powder. Karyn lifted hers and breathed in the scent, closing her eyes.
The chocolate drink was rich and sweet—not as good as pure chocolate, but it slid down Ileni’s throat like velvet. She drained nearly the entire cup, and only when she looked up after that first draught did she realize the others were sipping theirs slowly.
How long were they going to stay here? Ileni didn’t know how much time they had spent clambering through the caves, or when morning would come. Bazel, however, seemed in no hurry. He sat with his legs folded in front of him, taking luxurious sips of the chocolate drink and listening with a bemused smile as the traders argued over a deal they had once struck in Gadera. It was the first time Ileni had seen him completely relaxed.
“Of course,” Karyn said at one point, “if the emperor declares Siman his heir, we’ll have to stop going to Gadera.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain.” Bazel stretched his legs out and took another long sip. “Siman hates the Gaderans, but he doesn’t so much as choose a wine without consulting his advisers. They’ll never allow him to attack.”
How did he know all that? The blond man tilted his head at Ileni, inviting her to join the banter, but she kept her lips shut and raised her empty mug, pretending to sip.
“He’ll need a military victory,” Karyn argued. It felt like they were talking about something that wasn’t real, a story about a place that had never existed. The Empire was a mirage compared to the solid rock around them, the rigid routines and hard discipline that made up her days. Everything else sounded faintly unreal.
Everything else. Ileni’s fingers whitened around her mug. It wasn’t just the Rathian Empire. The Renegai, too—her own village, the life she’d had, her entire world until a mere four weeks ago—felt far away and irrelevant.
“Careful, or you’ll crush the cup,” Karyn observed. Ileni blinked, realizing that she had missed the last part of the conversation. Karyn was watching her speculatively.
Ileni loosened her grip, and pain flowed belatedly through her knuckles. “We should go,” she said. “This isn’t safe.”
“On the contrary,” the blond man said. “This is one of the only places in the known world where discussing the emperor’s choice of heir is safe.” He grinned at Bazel. “Before we go, will you take that wager? A free bag of chocolates if Siman is still alive when we return.”
“I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you,” Bazel said, with exaggerated deference.
The blond man let out a startled laugh, getting lazily to his feet. “Oho. Are you saying you have knowledge of his imminent death?”
Bazel widened his eyes. “I certainly didn’t say that.”
The man gestured for them to hand over their cups. “Was one of you sent to—”
“Enough,” Karyn said. “Leave him alone. He puts himself at sufficient risk by trading with us in the first place.”
The blond man stacked the cups deftly and balanced them in one hand. “I’m just talking. There’s no intent behind it.”
“My point exactly.”
He laughed again, and the two of them unloaded a large crate and a cask from the bottom of their canoe. Bazel hauled the crate over to a small rock overhang near the cliffside and pushed it underneath, then removed a single cloth bag. Shortly after that, the canoe was in the water and the traders sprang into it. Karyn stood in its center. “We’ll be back in a week’s time. It’s not too late to change your mind about that message.”
Once again, it took Ileni a moment to realize that Karyn was speaking to her. She lifted her chin. “It’s far too late.”
The current caught the canoe, and the man leaped to his paddles. The woman sat without haste, balancing easily as the river swept the boat away. Her eyes remained on Ileni’s face until the traders were out of sight.
On the way back up the narrow path, Ileni found herself feeling strangely desolate. Which was stupid, stupid, stupid; sending Tellis a message through a ragtag pair of traders was not a serious option. Tellis was still training to be a sorcerer, still among the elite of the Renegai. The traders had no way of getting in contact with him. And even if they could manage it, Tellis likely had no interest in receiving a message from her.
Anger flashed through her, the same unreasonable anger she had talked herself out of a hundred times. She had known what had to be done from the second the Elders told her the results, and so had he. She was the one who had said it out loud: they could no longer be together. He was going to be the one to lead the Renegai now, and she would only hold him back. His task, which had once been hers, was too important to allow their feelings to get in the way. Neither of them would have been the people they thought they were if they hadn’t acknowledged that. She knew all that—and yet, unreasonably, was furious at how easily he had agreed. With obvious regret, but without a word of protest.
He wouldn’t want a message from her. And even if he might, he didn’t deserve one.
When they were out of the narrow tunnel, and in the cavern leading back to the built-up section of the caves, she finally caught up to Bazel. Despite the cloth bag he held in one hand, he had navigated the rocks as easily as when he was carrying nothing. He glanced at Ileni sideways as she fell into step beside him. “What did you think of them?”
“You mean of Karyn? I don’t like her.” Ileni snorted. “Clearly, though, you do.”
It was difficult to tell by the magelight, but she thought Bazel was blushing. “She’s as brave as any of us. Do you know how feared we are in the Empire? Even the emperor’s armies have never dared venture into our territory. Most traders would never come anywhere near these caves.”