Page 117 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“I took the liberty of ordering for you,” Neldren said. “It’s called coffee, made from tiny beans from the Isles. The Dauphinians are so mad about this drink, they went to war with Maroba just to get their hands on those beans. At least, that’s what the bloke behind the counter told me.”
“Fascinating,” she said flatly. “So, how did you track me down?”
“My old friend Vilk. Remember him?”
She shook her head. Neldren had scores of “old friends.”
“Then maybe you’ll remember that night a few years back, when I played twelve games of Tribute with you practically sitting on my cock the entire time. He sat across the table from us, lap notably empty. Even if you don’t remember Vilk, he definitely remembersyou.”
Mavery couldn’t remember the man’s face well enough to pick him out of a crowd, but shecouldremember the way he’d leered at her all night. Her skin prickled at the memory.
“Oh.Him.”
“We reconnected not long after I arrived in the city. Vilk’s current scheme is selling fake rugs to rich tossers who don’t know any better. He mentioned seeing you the other night.”
Her breath caught in her lungs as she recalled the merchant she’d spoken with earlier—the man with the bronze makeup and the fake accent. The hand with the missing fingers was the same one that had drawn cards and thrown down coppers until the small hours of the morning. And when that hand had tried to grope Mavery’s breast afterward, Neldren had threatened to snap off its remaining digits.
Every muscle in Mavery’s body clenched as Neldren reached inside his coat pocket. But he revealed only a bloodstone. He gave it a playful shake before slipping it back in his pocket.
“I told him to send me a signal if he ever saw you again,” he said. “And, as luck would have it, I didn’t have to wait long.”
Mavery frowned. “That’s one minute gone, so get to the point. What do you want?”
“First, I have a gift.”
He reached into his other pocket, pulled out a dagger, and laid it on the table. It was the same one Mavery had lost back in Burnslee. Its hilt was carved from ivory, and a floral pattern was etched in its golden sheath.
“Take it,” Neldren said.
“What’s your game?”
“No game. Just returning what’s yours.”
The dagger wasn’thers, technically speaking.She’d never been able to afford a weapon like this, not even at the height of her thieving career. She’d stolen it years ago from a noblewoman during a carriage robbery.
She snatched the dagger and slipped it in her bag before Neldren had the chance to change his mind. Oddly, she felt no safer with it in her possession again.
“I had every intention of returning it to you,” Neldren said. “Ionly held onto it because I knew the healers would confiscate it.”
She blinked. “You…what?”
“How do you think you got to the healers in the first place?”
“So…” She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. “So, you took my knife after dumping me on their doorstep?”
He sighed. “I didn’tdump you on their doorstep. I made sure they found you, then waited outside the infirmary for two hours while you were in surgery. Once I knew you would live, I went back to the inn, gave Ellice and Itri some bullshit story about how you’d slipped on a patch of ice.” He hung his head. “I was too ashamed to admit what I’d done.”
“You think I’m stupid enough to believe all that?” Mavery demanded, her voice low with barely contained rage.
Neldren looked up, frowning deeply.
“I barely slept at all that night, so first thing in the morning, I snuck back into the infirmary. You were still unconscious, but I was determined to wait around until you woke up. I had to keep to the shadows because I doubted the healer they’d assigned you would’ve been happy to see me, the way she ranted about vagabonds. Right bint, that Emma was.”
Mavery’s stomach roiled, but this time, shadow magic had nothing to do with it. Alain had been right after all: Neldrenhadn’tleft her for dead.
“Once the village caught wind of”—Neldren’s eyes shifted, then he lowered his voice—“ourjob…that miserable little place became infested with bulls. I had no choice but to leave before I could explain myself.”
“Explain what, exactly? You tried to kill me but then felt guilty about it?”
