PART 2: TEN YEARS LATER

CHAPTER 1: Covering New Ground

     It was late when Zephyr’s target finally left the tavern, almost closing it.

     That was good, because the streets were mostly empty.

     The man folded like a snapped stem when the knife went in, falling to the ground with his mouth gasping for air it no longer had the strength to inhale.

     Zephyr left the body in the newfallen snow, in a poor and putrid part of town. 

    The exposed body, the blood, and the work of scavengers would send the message to his client’s enemies that he was not merciful.

     As he collected his payment, Zephyr liked the heft of the purse the client put in his hand.

                                                 **********

    Gale needed a new ritual knife of her own, one that Karis hadn’t touched or bloodied.

    She knew it really wasn’t a need as such, only an excuse that would put her back in touch with Zephyr, who hadn’t been back to the palace for quite some time. The truth of it all was she missed him, but she wasn’t willing to admit it.

     They’d had sunset dinners a few more times after that first one, when he made her blush and didn’t know at that moment she’d given her heart to him. The memory of it still made her smile (and blush), and his presence still unsettled her. 

    It was the most intimate she’d been with anyone without sharing her body.

    Still convincing herself the need for new ritual knives was not a pretense, she rationalized there was nothing wrong with having her own custom blades as she grew into the role of slave mistress and made it her own. It was silly and impulsive at best, unnecessary at worst, but she’d already convinced herself she had to see him.

    And after performing the blood rituals with Karis, she couldn’t sleep.

    Tonight was such a night. 

    Stepping onto her balcony, she watched the moonlight place coronas around the snowfall that made a pristine, gossamer veneer of alabaster on the quiet streets below. 

    Resplendent and full in its own right, the moon seemed a celestial jewel for a goddess on her throne.

    Her mind made up, she sent a guard to the stables to tell the boy to prepare a small wagon and harness a mountain pony for her. 

                                                         ***********

The wagon wheels were all but silent, muffled by the deepening snow. 

Cloaked and hooded, Gale still had her shoulders hunched up against the cold, imagining that when Zephyr gave her the new knives he’d hold her hand again.

                                                  ****************

    Zephyr woke up to the sound of soft knocking, so low that by itself it told him whoever had come was doing it in secret. 

    As he lived remotely, his house hidden from the view of nearby roads, and he lived alone, he took his dagger from the nightstand and moved in stealth and silence. He never told anyone where he lived, not even Gale, so no one should have been able to find him.

    Looking through one of the many covert holes in his walls, he saw what appeared to be a merchant, their cloak covered in snow. They were short, slender of build, and seemingly unarmed. 

    He waited, letting them shiver, then flung open the door, slamming into them and knocking them back into the wagon, his knife at the merchant’s upturned throat.

    Gale cried out, half scream, half shouting his name as her hood fell back and her hair came down across her shoulders. 

    “Gale! What are you doing here?” He dropped the knife and hugged her.

     She’d peed herself a bit from the fright he gave her.

     He’s learned his craft well. Tentative, she hugged him back. 

     “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

     Her back was, in fact, hurting from the force of hitting the wagon, and from how far he bent her with the knife to her throat. 

     “You did.” 

     “Come inside, come inside. I’ll tend to it. I’m sorry.”

     They went inside, and he got her settled by the fire as he went off to make something for the physical pain, pouring a Guild-approved pain medication and mixing it with wine. He gave it to her with some bread to soak it up, lest she be intoxicated on the ride home.

     She ate and drank, grateful, still coming down from the adrenaline rush he gave her.

     He went back out, tending to the pony, sheltering it in the tree line and covering it with a blanket. It had already started pawing to see if there was any grass. In the back of the wagon was a small bale, and he took it out and dropped it. 

    The pony dug in, and Zephyr made a mental note to thank the savvy stable boy who’d done this, if he ever saw him.

    He’d bring some water later.

                                                            **************

    When he came back inside, they spent some time catching up on what they’d done in the time apart. She was grateful to find he was still a good listener.

     Gale was getting her own reputation in the slave markets, though she’d grown to hate it. 

     Zephyr had passed his training under Riselle, who was a match for Karis in sheer will. She’d pushed him past endurance, past capacity, out of comfort zones, until his hands shook. 

    She massaged him then, looked after him, applied creams and ointments to his hands and the scars she gave him. She taught him how to clean the blood off his knife and polish it.

     He knew they were growing closer, and it was against Guild rules, but every now and then, when the adventures and fights were especially intense, they’d share a bed.

     Gale deflated a bit at that news, but couldn’t blame him. 

     She looked at him as he got up to tend the fire.

     “You’ve grown bigger, Zephyr. Broader too. No one’s going to call you–”

      He gave her a sharp look, and her voice trailed. 

      Bones on a rope…that seemed a long time ago now. 

     “What Mistress Karis called me?”

     She nodded. 

     “I hated that, but it stuck in people’s minds.”

     “I’m sorry I said it too.”

     “That’s the only time it bothered me.”

     “Then I won’t bring it up again, Zephyr. I promise.”

     He nodded, shrugged the tension out of his shoulders, and sat down again, draining the last of his wine as they watched the fire in a comfortable silence that wasn’t quite relaxed. He waited, figuring that if she’d been looking for him with such determination she wanted something from him. 

      Finishing her own wine, she got down to it. 

      “This isn’t a social call, my friend, obviously. I need…I need a new set of ritual knives. Are you still smithing with Amadi?”

      “Yes, when I’m not traveling for the other jobs they pay me to do.”

      “Who’s they?”

      He shrugged and smiled mysteriously. “Who knows?” 

      Gale laughed. “That’s a good place to start.”

      “It’s better if neither of us know. The Guild doesn’t encourage questions.”

      “I don’t doubt it.”

      “Gale, you didn’t come all this way under cover of night to catch up.”

      She sighed. “No, I didn’t. This isn’t social, though it is nice.”

      He waited. 

     “I want a set of ritual knives.”

      He sensed the hesitation. “And?” 

     “I wanted you to come with me to Kenjin Market.”

     “Kenjin? The slave market…”

     “Yes.”

     “Why?”

     “Karis wants to see how I fare without her. Do you know about Kenjin?”
      “It’s the largest, and most dangerous. Larisse and I had cause to go there a few times. But you’ve been at this for some time, Gale, and you’re no sloth at fighting. Why do you need me?”
    “Because I don’t share her certainty that I’ll do well, and I’d feel better with someone at my back.”

  “Someone like me.” he smiled. 

  She returned it. “Yes. Will you?”

  “Yes. Now let me ask you, how did you find out where I lived? I told no one, not even Amadi.”

  “Can a girl keep her secrets?”

  He laughed. “All right. As long as you want to risk your life appearing randomly in the middle of the night. A stranger’s reflexes might not be as good as mine.” 

  She sobered at that observation, and figured she might as well tell him the truth. 

 “Karis has spies, Zephyr. She always knew where you were. She kept up with your progress at the Guild. I expect one day she’ll likely use your services to protect her.”

 He nodded. “I should have known. I guess you can say she created me.”

 “She exploited you in your grief. She exploited us. If the rebellion wasn’t growing, we’d have no chance to be free at all.

 “I hate being a slaver, Zephyr. I hate it, but I’ve been trained for nothing else.” Her eyes welled, which was the last thing she wanted to happen.

 He knelt in front of her, and took her hands. “Yes, there are chains wrapped around your fists, Gale, and blood on my own hands. We’ll do what we can to clean them. As much as we thought we found favor not being assigned to labor and service, they assigned us to much worse, but we can use what we know to our own advantage.

  “Let’s focus on that.”

  She wiped her eyes, and he stood up and released her hands.

  She stood up too. “I need to get back.”

  He wanted to ask her to stay, but they both knew she couldn’t, and part of his training had been not brooding over what couldn’t be helped. He should have known it applied to more than killing, but that didn’t lessen the sting.

  He walked her back out, taking water for the pony. They spent a few minutes in silence again, admiring the stars now that the snow stopped, letting the pony drink.

  She kissed him before she climbed into the wagon, and was encouraged by how slowly he released her to help her up, though she didn’t need it.

   It was tempting to invite him back to the palace so he wouldn’t have to travel on his own, but something in her knew he’d refuse, and since she trusted his judgment, she didn’t bother.

  He watched until she was almost out of sight, then went back inside, spending a restless night, the heat of a tender kiss replacing the fire in the hearth that he let die on its own.