Page 20 of Foul Days

“I don’t know if he’d pawn it. He seemed like…” Kosara hesitated. “Almost like he was collecting them.”

“Even if he doesn’t, they would’ve heard of him. A witch’s shadow is just the sort of thing those people would love to get their dirty paws on.”

Kosara gave him a sideways smile. Dirty paws. A bit rich coming from him.

“It’s on the Main Street, did you say?” she asked.

“Across from the big pharmacy near the fountain.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, old friend. You’d better go there at once.”

Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. “It’s eight in the evening. Surely they’re shut.” Kosara took a glass of mulled wine from a nearby tray. “I think I’ll stay for a while. It’s lovely to see you’re doing so well after all these years. Are those rugs from Phanarion? They must have cost a fortune.”

“Kosara…”

“Maybe if you sold a few of them, you’d be able to give me my money back.”

“I told you. Wait until after the wedding. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“No offence, but I don’t believe your promises anymore. Maybe I’ll mention it to Nur, she seems reasonable.…”

Sevar paled. He took a step sideways, as if to block Kosara’s way towards Nur. As if that would stop her.

“Honestly, Kosara, have you not grown up at all over the past five years?”

“Have I not grown up? You stole my money. You made me believe you’d buy us passage to Belograd. I packed my bags and waited for you to show up all night, and you never did. You crossed the Wall without me!”

At last, he had the decency to blush. “Are you really still upset about that? It was half a decade ago.”

“Of course I’m still upset! Does Nur know she’s marrying a scam artist? Perhaps she deserves to.”

This time, he took a step towards Kosara. “Don’t you dare go near her,” he hissed. “This is why I left you behind, Kosara. Because you never let things go. There wouldn’t have been enough room for all your emotional baggage to come with us to Belograd. Wherever you go, the ghosts from your past go with you.”

Kosara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I only have one ghost and you know as well as I do she can’t leave my house in Chernograd.”

“I was speaking metaphorically. It’s not just Nevena, you know. You’re still completely hung up on that Zmey of yours—”

A loud clap sounded. Sharp pain ran up Kosara’s arm. It took her a second to realise she’d slapped Sevar so hard, she’d hurt her own hand. Five red fingers bloomed on his cheek.

His hand slowly rose to rub them. His eyes were wide with shock.

“Sevar!” Nur’s cheery voice came as if from very far. Kosara was so angry, her ears buzzed.

She forced a smile, and so did Sevar. Kosara suspected they both looked equally fake.

“Am I interrupting something?” Nur appeared, a bottle of mulled wine in her hand. She took a swig, then refilled Kosara’s empty glass.

“Not at all, darling,” Sevar grabbed her by the waist and spun her before she’d seen the hand impression on his cheek. She leaned her head on his chest.

“Another one of your friends just arrived,” Nur said. “I told her you’re in the living room. Here she is! Easy to spot, isn’t she?”

She was—she towered at least a head above the other guests. Her hair glistened waxy in the lamplight, gathered in two long braids. Her black silken shirt was tucked into a pair of wide poturi, and her many brass-bell necklaces jingled with her every step. A pipe hung from the corner of her mouth, sending clouds of seer’s-sage-scented smoke towards the ceiling.

Roksana. What the hell was she doing here?

“Sevar, my friend!” A broad smile split Roksana’s face as she approached, her arms spread. Then she spotted Kosara. The smile froze. “Kosara?”

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