“All right then.” Petrin gave a quick nod. “We agree.”

“Excellent.” The boy was slight, even for his age, and it took little effort for Vaniell to lift him off his ragged nest of blankets, making a note as he did so that they would need new ones that were not drenched in blood.

As soon as he had the child firmly in his arms, he turned to Karreya, who was regarding him with a furrowed brow.

“You can come with us or not,” he said, though he hoped rather strongly that she would choose the former. “I could use the extra hands, but I understand if you have somewhere else to be.”

Karreya shook her head. “There is nowhere. And with your hands occupied, you will need someone to watch your back.”

Perhaps because she expected a dagger in the back at any moment, she viewed others’ lives through that same expectation. Vaniell had no such fear, not on these streets, but he nodded anyway.

“Thank you,” he said. “We are grateful for your help.”

“Do not mistake me, Abreian,” she warned. “I care little for your errands, but you seem prone to foolishness and distraction. I need you alive, so I will do what I can to keep you that way.”

Vaniell could have laughed had the situation not been so serious. She thought him foolishnow? The depths of his capacity for foolishness had never yet been reached, but if that was all it took to keep the beautiful assassin from leaving him?

He would play the fool and count it time well spent.

CHAPTER6

Every time Karreya was certain she had taken Niell’s measure, he surprised her again. Elegant, capricious, disorderly, intelligent, perceptive, decisive, and… surprisingly soft-hearted.

He did not appear to have had martial training, but he moved quickly when needed. Judged the situation and acted. He possessed magic that was likely to be dangerous, but so far had used it for only basic necessities, for defense, and to protect her. At least, that had been his intention, and she had decided to forgive him for that lapse in judgment.

He had not lied when he said that he wanted to keep her safe. That he did not want her to be forced to kill. That he was not angry at her failures. Worst of all, he had been entirely honest when he called her beautiful…

And now he was taking care of orphaned street children with gentleness and compassion.

If Niell did not exercise caution, those around him would take egregious advantage of his kindness and generosity.

So she followed a half-dozen steps behind him and his tiny blonde shadow, watching the rooftops and the windows, gauging the threat posed by each person who glanced their way as they passed.

The Spinning Dolphin appeared to be relatively clean and safe as dockside inns went, but the further away from it they walked, the less reputable their surroundings grew. Mercenaries, prostitutes, and unwashed sailors populated the streets, and there were none of the polite greetings she’d noted in other parts of the city. Most of those they passed cast sidelong glances at the other members of her party, but no one attempted to harass them.

At length, they stopped before a dark storefront with a tiny, dingy sign over the door. A blue flower was painted on the sign, but there were no words to enlighten her as to its name or purpose.

Niell paused before the door and waited as Pren turned the handle and opened it far enough to peer inside.

“Hello?” Her voice was small and wavering, but the proprietor seemed to have no trouble hearing her.

“Come in, unless you’re here to collect taxes, hold me for ransom, or ask for a love potion.”

Niell laughed while Pren opened the door wide enough for him to pass through with Petrin.

“Exactly what would I get if I held you for ransom, Emmerick?”

“My mother’s favorite axe.”

“Buried in my chest, I’ve no doubt.”

The man crossing the floor towards them shrugged, nodded politely at Karreya, then placed his hands on his hips as he regarded Niell’s burden with a raised eyebrow. “What trouble have you brought me now?”

He was one of the largest men Karreya had ever seen—tall and broad, with a shaved head and skin the color of burnished rosewood. His feet were bare, and his loose clothing left both his lower legs and arms bare as well, revealing a dark pattern of intricately designed tattoos.

“Just a bit of a mishap,” Niell said, his tone as calm as if they were discussing the weather.

“Put the small one over here on the table, and I’ll have a look, then.”