Felix frowned. “No retinue? No honour guard?”
“No. A small group is best in this… sensitive situation.”
“When do we leave?”
“As soon as she is able to stay in the saddle,” the mage replied. He must have noticed Felix’s stunned expression because he added, “She’s a danger to anyone with even the slightest trace of magical affinity. Her proximity alone can cause their instant death. You saw what happened to my colleagues.” His face hardened. “She must leave the city immediately.”
Felix drummed his fingers on the hilt of his axe, then looked the mage square in the eye. “Two thousand up front.”
The mage didn’t even hesitate. “Done.”
Damn. Should have asked for three.
***
Felix’s first stop after leaving the estate was the boarding house where he’d been staying for months. He washed off the grime of the night and changed into his own clothes and armour. The familiar weight of his own gear was a relief after the stifling formality of the evening. He settled his last bill with the landlord, slung his well-worn travel pack over his shoulder and stepped outside.
From there, he hastened through the narrow streets of the merchant quarter, his steps quick and his eyes darting to every shadow in the pre-dawn gloom. The weight of the gold he carried made him uneasy. It was enough to tempt even the most law-abiding citizen, and he had no interest in trouble. Not tonight, at any rate. His destination wasn’t far, and he was relieved it was the midsummer festivalas nearly every business stayed open all night. As he got closer, he heard a roar rising from the crowd in the pits further ahead. It was a shame he didn’t have time to pass by and beat Alwin’s ugly face to a pulp, but he supposed he had more important – and a lot more profitable – things to do now.
His trip to the moneylender was quick and all business, even if the man struggled to hide his surprise at the unexpected payment. Felix left debt-free, feeling like an immense weight was lifted off his shoulders.
“Hello, Felix,” an all-too familiar voice crooned behind him when he crossed the street.
Shit.He sighed and turned around. She was dressed for the festival, all colourful skirts and sparkly jewellery, her lute hanging off her shoulder.
“Mia. Shouldn’t you be at the Flagon?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Bad crowd. Half of them only show up to leer or request‘The Lass and the Lantern’for the thousandth time. The real question is, what are you doing here?”
“Nothing.”
She scoffed. “You’re walking out of Tobin’s office in the middle of the night to do ‘nothing’, in full travel gear, with a pack and enough steel to outfit a small militia.” Then she stepped forward and poked him in the chest with a pointy fingernail. He took an involuntary step backwards.
“You,” she said, “owe me an explanation before you run off to wherever it is you’re going.”
“For what?”
Her eyes tightened. “Weaver, Felix, are you serious? You spend practically every night in my bed for a month, and then you just disappear?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realise you got clingy, Mia. Guess I imagined it when you crawled in Titus’s lap right in front of me?”
Mia rolled her eyes. “That was business.”
“Yeah? You’re very enthusiastic in your business dealings if that was the case,” Felix replied, tilting his head and grinning at her. He knew Mia did not just make music; her chief trade was in other people’s secrets. That didn’t stop him from teasing her about it, though.
She pursed her lips and glared, but he could see her struggle to keep the answering smirk off her face.
“Asshole. He was incredibly disappointing, if you must know. Tragic, really. Waste of a nice-looking man.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t ask, but I’ll take your word for it.”
She took a step closer to him and fluttered her lashes. “So… whereareyou going?”
Felix backed away. “Just a job. Pays well, standard gig.”
Her sultry smile faded into a look of mild suspicion. “Standard gigs for youneverpay well. What kind of job requires you to leave at this hour? On midsummer night?”
“Can’t say.”
