I nod. It wasn’t a bad plan in principle. Smart of Harman to not get complacent. But the Temple has plenty of resources to spare. It isn’t that surprising that they’d assign a gang of cleavers to make sure the Hand didn’t pick its pockets.
“Cap’n?” Alastor stirs again.
“Yes, Alastor?”
“Why…”
“Why are we in a tent?” I finish for him.
“Yes’m,” he mumbles.
“The princess is looking for you,” Hyllus says before I can answer Alastor. I stand swiftly. Perhaps I’ve left Ana alone with the rebels too long. She’s with my soldiers, but it’s likely she’s let her guard down after Harman’s announcement. I saw the look on her face when he called her sister—this is something she wants deep within her soul.
“Don’t rush,” Hyllus says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “They’re coming to you.”
One by one, my unit and Morgana emerge from the trapdoor, followed by Mal and the apron-clad woman Deedus fetched.
“This is Heda, she owns an inn down the road,” Mal says.
Heda draws herself up, taking us in with a sharp eye.
“Harman’s asked me to give you rooms for the night,” she says. “Now, normally I’m more than happy to help the Hand—and I’m not prejudiced, you understand; after all, we get all sorts in these parts—but I’ll just say I don’t want any trouble, do you hear?”
“You won’t even know we’re there,” I say smoothly.
She seems satisfied with my answer. “And this dog, is he housetrained?”
Dots, unlike the rest of us, is still wearing his glamour. He stretches and sits up, seeming to know he’s being talked about.
“Completely,” Ana answers.
“Alright then,” Heda nods.
Alastor stirs again, and Mal looks to Heda, who hands him a vial from her basket.
“Look, I know I fucked up with the infection,” Mal says, looking morosely down at Alastor, who’s blinking his eyes open sleepily. “But Heda’s a herbalist, and this should help get him through the fever quicker. I can’t guarantee he’ll be back to full strength after today, but he’ll be well enough.”
Alastor’s eyes are fully open now, and fixed on Mal.
“I’m sorry,” Mal says slowly to Alastor.
Alastor tries to say something.
“What’s that?” Stratton bends down as Alastor mumbles something in his ear. A smile spreads slowly across Stratton’s face.
“He says you can go kiss Winnivus’s windy asshole.”
Mal’s face falls. “Just make him take the damn potion,” he says, shoving it into Stratton’s hands.
We don our glamours, and Heda escorts us to her inn, the Crossed Keys. There’s the usual debate about rooms, as Heda only spares us three. In the end, Phaia and Damia claim the best one, with Hyllus promising to keep an eye on Alastor withStratton and Eryx. Tira and Ana exchange a series of looks I can’t read, and Tira promptly announces she and Dots will be bunking with the women soldiers.
Which leaves Ana and me standing outside the third door.
“Let’s talk,” she says, pushing her way inside and leaving me no choice but to follow.
The room is clean and warm, if a little old-fashioned. It makes a pleasant respite from those dark cellars and the images of the wounded still rattling around my head.
“Harman says he wants to meet with me again tomorrow,” Ana tells me. “Our being related isn’t the only reason he wanted to make contact with me.”
