Reed did not make it to the capital. Maró’s lair lay hidden deep in the woods, and Reed hoped in vain to reach Eisen before dusk settled. He didn't truly know the road, relying only on the sun sinking below the horizon. He knew he had to head east. Night caught him in the heart of the wilderness, where an owl cried out hoarsely in the distance.

  Instead of stumbling blindly, he decided to spend the night under the canopy of wild trees laden with coarse, dark green leaves. The fire crackled cheerfully as it devoured dry branches, and Reed stared mindlessly at the tongues of flame. He thought of Meredith and their meeting. It had turned out to be almost as pleasant as he would have liked. There had been joy and warmth, but there was also plenty of bitterness, shame, and guilt mingled with the anger and irritation that Reed found difficult to suppress.

  He understood that Meredith hadn’t intentionally accused him of failing to understand the motives behind their war, but he also knew his reaction had been inevitable. He couldn't have answered differently. There was too much hatred for kreyghars within him, too many old wounds, and too much pain. Meredith alone could not rid him of this poison. Despite the warm feelings Reed harbored for her, she was unable to take away that ancient malice. The roots had burrowed far too deep into his soul.

  Her motives were clear now, too. Now that his anger had subsided, Reed could no longer condemn Meredith’s decision so fiercely. First, he was not her father. He had barely remained a friend, which meant he had no right to even try to influence her choice. She had chosen her own path, just as Reed had once chosen his. He just had to come to terms with it. Second, there was a grain of truth in Maró’s ideas.

  Reed had often judged the kreyghars for their inaction. He hated how they bowed their heads submissively at the sight of a whip, but the mages had no intention to yield. They wanted freedom. They yearned to erase the invisible targets from their backs, the ones the king’s sword aimed at so precisely. Reed was against the hunt, against the executions, and against everything the mages had endured for decades since being proclaimed a universal evil. He understood why they needed this war, just as he understood Meredith’s involvement.

  He had been foolish to hope that the events that took place ten years ago would not kindle a thirst for rebellion and revenge in her. On the night Reed fled from the Wasps, something in her soul had broken, shattering into pieces and drowning in blood. She had nothing that could heal those scars. There was only pain, which later morphed into despair. Despair had turned to vengeance. And Reed had left her.

  He couldn't say he would have acted differently even with a chance to turn back time, but he knew he was accountable for her despair. When Meredith needed him, he was roaming Emeron. What else but a desperate thirst for retribution could have taken root in her?

  Looking at things on a grander scale, Meredith had not chosen the worst path. She could have surrendered out of cowardice, fallen in with a bad crowd, withered away, or courted disaster. Reed would never have forgiven himself if he learned her life had ended on the gallows. Meredith was taking risks now, too, but they were not as grave as those she might have faced alone. Maró was her chance to get what she wanted and, with a bit of luck and guile, stay alive. After all, she could always run if things took a turn for the worst.

  Another thing Reed understood just as clearly was that the king deserved the conspiracy. The only question was whether Reed was ready to share the burden of a messiah with the mages. At first the answer was no. But wasn't this a wonderful opportunity to settle his score with fate? The king's death would not bring back his family, erase fifteen years of slavery from his memory, or heal old scars. It wouldn't make him a different person or restore the identity he had lost in chains. The past was the past. If Reed at least tried to make a stand, who knew? Maybe he would hate himself a little less. Perhaps it would give him the peace he had never known. Perhaps it would end his race, either through death or a chance for a new life.

  Either outcome suited him. Reed did not crave death, but he was weary of the life he led. Perhaps standing against the king would help end the horrific cycle of suffering that had engulfed Belden. The one who started it all could be the one to end it with. Reed refused to fully accept Belden as his homeland in its current state, yet he still longed to return home as a free man among free people. If he’d only tasted that sweet illusion for just a moment, life would become less of a burden, and he would no longer be so indifferent to his own death. Maybe he needed vengeance too, even if he had to pay for it with his final breath.

  It didn't matter who he allied with. The kreyghars would get what was coming to them, and Reed would find peace. The thought that his family’s death was no longer a forgotten sin would warm his soul. His mother would likely be glad to know she hadn't died in vain. Maybe it would mean something that he had at least tried to honor her sacrifice. Until now, he had only killed, and there was far more blood on his hands than lives saved.

  Torn by inner conflict, Reed didn't notice the dawn beginning to break. The fire was dying out, the branches crumbling into pale flakes as they turned to ash. And Reed still couldn’t decide. On one hand, there was Meredith and his own personal interest in the king’s downfall. On the other, he had no desire to help the kreyghars.

  Covering his face with his hands, Reed laughed softly. He couldn't remember the last time he had been forced to make such a difficult choice. He didn't want to help the kreyghars, yet he couldn't leave Meredith or throw away his chance to settle a blood debt. The final reason that tipped the scales was the memory of the one hunt Reed had foolishly taken part in. Those mages hadn’t deserved it. He had simply ensured their deaths. For nothing. That, too, was a debt. Caring for Meredith had not been enough to repay it.

  By noon, Reed was already in Eisen. The capital greeted him with the clamor of the crowd and the clatter of metal on the guards' armor. They glanced warily at Reed but did not stop him. He wandered the streets without any specific purpose. He could not return to the mages, yet he found no strength to head for the port of Telin either. Turning the same thoughts over and over, he reached a small bridge over the river that split Eisen in half. Ladies in provocative dresses strolled lazily across the bridge while guards marched loudly, but Reed paid them no mind.

  The river water stirred thoughts of home, though Reed had long since forgotten what his home looked like. With a heavy sigh, he patted the mare's mane. The horse snorted, begging for a treat. Reed smiled as he pulled out a dry crust of bread. The animal was a distraction from his heavy thoughts. It wasn't every day that he, of all people, had to make such monumental choices that would affect many people, not just him and the mages.

  Evening found him in an old tavern on the outskirts. He had not been allowed into any others. He sat at a table, swirling a glass of tsipur and thinking. He built plans, envisioned scenarios, and searched for a way out of every trap his imagination could conjure. No matter how he looked at it, the conclusion remained the same. The mages’ contract was dangerous, but no one had promised it would be easy.

  He could take the job on his own terms. Maró wouldn’t complain, for finding a replacement for Reed would be a nearly impossible task. Men were executed for aiding mages, and few mercenaries would risk their life for a few coins. Those who wouldn't betray Maró and his company were fewer still. He would have no choice but to abide by Reed's rules.

  Meredith would likely be on his side. If the mission failed, he would force her to leave, and perhaps later she would thank him. If Maró wanted a hero's death, the honor was all his. But Meredith still had a chance to live, even if she would hate Reed later.

  The first stars had already kindled in the sky when Reed left the tavern. Vaulting onto his horse, he headed back to Maró’s lair, hoping he could explain his terms and, if necessary, persuade Meredith to leave. He did not intend to be disposable. This was the crucial point, among many others, that Reed planned to deliver to Maró.

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  ***

  He reached the camp only by evening. The very sight of the saddle made Reed nauseous. His back throbbed with unhealed wounds he could not treat on his own. He turned onto the old, overgrown road leading to the abandoned mines where Maró and his company were hiding. Tugging the reins, he forced the horse to slow its pace. His eyes stung from the dust and the sleepless night. He craved sleep and could barely keep his seat.

  Soon Hans met him. He was on watch.

  "Oh, look who’s back," Hans muttered with a strange smile. After scanning Reed with an appraising look, he added, "You look like hell."

  "Is your sorcerer still here?"

  "Depends on why you need him." Hans's finger toyed with the bowstring.

  "It’s none of your business why. There is a matter to discuss, and he will find it interesting."

  Without answering, Hans gave a short whistle. Reed prepared to wait. Maró appeared quickly enough. Reed didn't even have time to drift off under a nearby tree. The mage leapt from his horse, gracefully straightening his expensive suit.

  "Hello," he said briefly, extending a hand to Reed.

  Ignoring the gesture, Reed spoke curtly. "I will help."

  Maró’s eyebrows shot up. He quelled his surprise quickly and waited in silence for Reed to continue.

  "On my terms. There are only a few, but the moment I see you trying to make a fool of me, I’m done and gone. Got it?"

  "I understand," Maró nodded, surprisingly calm. "Let’s go."

  "Where?" Reed didn't immediately grasp what he meant. Fatigue and the fleeting drowsiness were taking their toll.

  "Home."

  Maró nodded to Hans, and only as Reed rode a little further ahead did he notice the traps. Other sentries were hiding in the bushes. Grunting, Reed pulled a sly face and gave a childish wave to one of the scouts as if to say the man was doing a poor job of hiding.

  Once they arrived, Maró issued a flurry of orders, half of which Reed didn't really understand. He wanted to sit somewhere, even if just for a moment. While the mage settled his affairs, Reed sat right in the grass and leaned his head against the trunk of an old tree. He had almost relaxed when Maró called him.

  "We’ll talk in the morning," Maró said as they plunged into the darkness of the first corridor. Around them, the light of torches and old candles flickered and trembled, making Reed even sleepier. "Get some rest for now."

  "Fine," Reed grumbled. On one hand, it was what he wanted. On the other, he was afraid he might change his mind by morning.

  "Shall I tell her you’ve arrived?" Maró asked suddenly, turning back.

  Reed only nodded in silence and Maró gave a patronizing smile. He left Reed alone in the same room where he had stayed last time, or so it seemed, as the rooms were all almost the same. Looking at the stone walls and the makeshift door, Reed wondered how they had managed to turn old shafts into a passable imitation of a home. Tossing his daggers onto a weathered wooden table, he began unlacing his cloak. His fingers were clumsy and the strings were infuriating. Soon Reed began to jerk at them angrily, only tangling them more.

  "Need help?"

  All the anger at the stubborn laces of his cloak evaporated the moment Reed saw Meredith. She stood by the shabby door with her arms crossed over her chest, watching his struggles with a smile. Spreading his hands helplessly, Reed nodded. Meredith approached and reached out to him. Reed almost stopped breathing. Soon the cloak slipped from his shoulders and Reed barely managed to catch it.

  "Thank you," he muttered awkwardly, tossing the cloak toward his weapons.

  They stood and simply looked at one another. Reed didn't know what to say, and Meredith understood him without words. The smile she used to wear when looking at him in the past was frozen on her lips, while he was as disoriented as if he weren't himself. Finally, when he managed to look away, Meredith silently drew him to her.

  She embraced him the way she had when she was still a child. Time had not erased these hugs from Reed's memory, though for a long time he had believed otherwise. His palms rested awkwardly on her shoulders. Meredith rested her head against his chest, listening to the heavy, rapid thumping of his heart, and Reed allowed himself to hug her back. Both went still. Meredith listened to his life, and Reed savored the warmth of her arms and body as if he had spent an eternity in the ice of Kaldfell.

  ***

  Reed sat in the familiar room once again. Maró sat across the table, beside Tallis, who tried to burn Reed with her gaze as if he were the earthly incarnation of Vesifer. To Reed’s left sat Meredith, remaining silent. Iris, just like last time, hid in the shadows. There were other kreyghars whose names Reed did not know. The room reeked of burnt wax and dust. A damp chill radiated from the stone walls, making Meredith shiver occasionally as she huddled into her cloak.

  Reed stared Maró down as if a battle understood only by the two of them was taking place. To look away meant to lose, to concede. Maró turned his gaze to Tallis and a smug smile flickered across Reed's face, quickly shifting into a mask of indifference. The silence cracked like old wood.

  "What do you think?" Maró asked, distracting Tallis from her attempts to bore into Reed with her eyes.

  "It is hard to say. What are the guarantees?" She turned to Reed, a wave of short hair swaying as it fell across her face.

  "The same as yours. Utterly transparent."

  "You are asking a lot."

  "So are you," Reed cut in coldly. "I am taking a risk, and it would be wise for you to risk something as well. I will not do this job for a 'thank you,' as I have already said. You will pay for my efforts."

  "Very well," Maró nodded, glancing at Tallis, who had already opened her mouth to object. "You may stay here while you work."

  "Eisen is a long way off," Reed noted with a twitch of his cheek. "I will leave soon. I need to find out a few things."

  "Anything else?"

  "Yes," Reed leaned forward, resting his elbows on the old table. "If I find out you are playing me for a fool, our deal is over. I will turn you in and leave, and you can deal with it yourselves. You can be certain that I will find out, sooner or later."

  "Fair enough," Maró grumbled. A shadow crossed his face, and Reed narrowed his eyes. This leech was still hiding something, and Reed couldn't figure out what. It was infuriating. A sense of a hidden trap lingering in the air didn’t leave him. Or perhaps someone had simply forgotten how to trust.

  "I don't need the money just yet," Reed spoke, standing up. "I'm going to Eisen not for long."

  "May I ask why?"

  "You may," he chuckled. "I'm not going to charge into the king’s castle or wait for a lucky break in an alleyway. That would work if the advisor were a common citizen. I need to... investigate. I have to understand what I'm dealing with and how to approach the advisor. I’d rather not take risks, so I'll try to find out as much as possible."

  "Do you have any leads right now?"

  "Nope. I know nothing about him but his name. It’s troublesome. The more I know, the easier it is to do the job and leave."

  "How much time do you need for that?"

  "A couple of days."

  "I’m going with you," Meredith suddenly blurted out. Her face remained calm, but her voice faltered. This did not escape Maró’s attention. He narrowed his eyes, glancing from Meredith to Reed and back again.

  "No, you aren't," Reed cut her off, fiddling with his cloak ties.

  "Are you going to stop me?"

  "I can't, but I'll manage faster alone."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely."

  "That’s not true. Together we would find out more. You look like a highwayman. You’ll have to try very hard to learn anything outside of taverns and brothels."

  "You’re staying here, Dita," Reed said in a honeyed voice. "It’s not up for debate. Besides, Maró agrees with me, doesn't he?"

  "She is no prisoner here, and I am not her father," the mage replied blankly.

  Reed rolled his eyes.

  "You aren’t going there to fight," Meredith said as she finally raised her eyes to him. "I can help."

  Reed looked at her, unable to bring himself to a decision. Her motive was clear. Meredith wanted to pepper him with questions or perhaps win him over to Maró’s ideas. The thought that she simply wanted to be with him was outlandish, and Reed brushed it aside the moment it crossed his mind. On the other hand, Meredith truly could help. She didn't have to haunt the taverns. Absolutely nothing about her betrayed her as a mage or a conspirator. She could easily pass for a commoner and go places where Reed would be shunned on sight. Weighing the possibilities, he realized Meredith was right. She was no child but a grown woman, quite capable of handling various tasks.

  Sighing once more, Reed stifled the urge to roll his eyes again.

  "Fine. Go and get ready."

  If Meredith was glad, she didn't show it. Her face did not falter. She rose slowly and left the room without a word.

  "You are responsible for her," Tallis snapped. "We are paying you, not her."

  "Why don’t you go kiss Vesifer’s ass, my dear?"

  Iris pressed her palm to her mouth. Tallis turned scarlet, fuming. She could not even find an answer, she was so appalled by the sheer gall of Reed’s insult.

  "Perfect." With an insolent wink at Tallis, Reed walked out.

  Maró chuckled as he watched him leave. Before the door closed, Reed heard Tallis’s furious huffing as she unleashed a torrent of flowery insults. It wasn't the first time he'd heard such things. This time it was almost satisfying. He knew she wouldn't say half of it to his face. She was spitting venom behind his back, and that was a victory. Still, he filed away her resentment for later.