Page 141 of A Tower of Half-Truths
Alain followed her advice and ignored meeting anyone’s eye, though he was tempted to seek out the source of a wolf whistle aimed in her direction. His blood flared, but he kept his gaze fixed on Mavery’s back. She strutted through the room, head high and undeterred by her surroundings.
It then occurred to Alain that, until two months ago, this was the sort of place she frequented. For the first time, he was seeing her in her element.
She came to a stop near the back of the room.
“There he is,” she muttered. “And in his natural habitat, no less.”
Gathered around one of the tables were three men in the midst of a card game. Alain knew at once which one of them was Neldren, and not because he was the only Nilandoren at the table. He was undeniably handsome, with long, dark hair and a sharp, stubble-lined jaw. His commanding presence penetrated the crowded room. Alain could see why Mavery had been so infatuated with this man.
But this man had also shot someone he supposedly cared about.
A petite young redhead was perched on his right knee. She spotted Mavery from across the room, shot her an acidic glare, then leaned over and whispered in Neldren’s ear. He whipped his head around so swiftly, the redhead nearly lost her balance.
“Well, look who’s decided to grace us with her presence,” he said. “Sorry, mates, afraid I must quit while I’m ahead.”
His announcement was met with grumbles and curses. But Neldren ignored them as he laid down his cards and gathered uphis winnings—more coppers than potins—and nudged the young woman, who rolled her eyes before sliding off his lap.
They relocated to the closest thing this pub had to a private corner. Neldren and the young woman sat together on one side of the table; Neldren draped his arm over the back of her chair. Alain gathered his resolve before it depleted entirely, then sat beside Mavery, who’d claimed the chair directly across from Neldren.
“And you’ve brought a friend,” Neldren said. He extended his hand. “Neldren Rel’Selayne.”
“Alain Tesseraunt,” he replied stiffly.
Neldren’s palm was callused, his grip firm. It was a mercifully brief handshake. Had it lasted any longer, Alain would be tempted to make this mantrulyanswer for putting a bullet in Mavery’s stomach. The young woman—Ellice, Alain presumed—eyed Alain with suspicion but made no effort to introduce herself.
“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Neldren asked.
“The last time we spoke, you suggested we work together again,” Mavery said.
“I did.”
Ellice glared at Neldren. “I told you toapologizeto her, not recruit her!”
He kept his eyes on Mavery. “I take it you’ve found a job.”
“I have, as a matter of fact.”
“Who’s your buyer?” His eyes flicked to Alain. “Him?”
“No, I am.”
Mavery glanced behind her shoulder before extracting an envelope from the inside pocket of her coat, then slid it across the table. Neldren’s eyebrows raised as he peeked inside. Ellice eagerly craned her neck.
“Five hundred potins,” Mavery said in a low voice. “All accounted for.”
He closed the envelope but placed his hand over it instead of passing it back to her. “If you’re willing to share your newfound wealth, consider me interested. All right, what kind of job are we talking?”
Mavery exchanged a sidelong glance with Alain. “A few years back, you took a job for a wizard at the University of Leyport. We’dlike to hire you for that same job.”
He flashed her a wicked smile. “You’ll need to be more specific than that.” There was a particularity with which he phrased that sentence, as if sharing an inside joke.
Mavery sighed. “The Innominate Temple.”
Neldren’s smile flattened. He fell silent as he and Mavery exchanged another knowing look. Ellice glanced between the two of them, confusion etched on her brow.
“What’s the Innominate Temple?” she asked.
“It’s—” Mavery began.
