Page 97 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“M-Mavery?” He blinked slowly, and his eyes widened as he seemed to realize she wasn’t a drunken hallucination. “Gods, don’t tell me it’s morning already.”
“It’s still Middisday, at least for a few hours. I’m sorry to show up like this, but I didn’t know where else to—”
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he said quickly. The urgency of her words seemed to have pulled him from his stupor.
Despite wearing half her wardrobe, her body was trembling. She gave the empty corridor a sidelong glance. The rational part of her knew, had Neldren followed her here, he would have made himself known by now. But she was in no state to think rationally. She hated it with every fiber of her being.
“I… It’s a long story.”
Without needing further explanation, Alain pulled her into the apartment, closed the door behind them, and—though his wards rendered mundane locks unnecessary—slid the deadbolt into place.
The only light source was the fire, low and crackling, but it casta comforting glow over the room. The familiar scent of leather and ink, interlaced with the metallic tang of warding magic, calmed Mavery’s nerves.
She handed Alain her rain-soaked robe, which he draped across his armchair to dry by the fire. Her coat found a home over the back of his desk chair. She stripped off her three extra blouses, then tossed them in a corner to deal with later.
“First thing in the morning,” Alain said, “I’m equipping your pack with a Transmutation spell. For now, make yourself at home.”
Mavery crossed to the sofa, where she didn’t hesitate to take a generous gulp from the wineglass on the tea table. Beside it were two bottles—one was empty, and the other was not quite half-full. Her second gulp drained the glass. As she refilled it, Alain lowered himself beside her.
“Tell me what happened,” he said.
She took another long drink, followed by a deep breath. And then she told him everything.
Twenty-Nine
She began with how she and Neldren had first met. How, as a rookie member of the Brass Dragons, she’d been pursued down an alley by members of a rival guild. How she’d earned the scar across her nose while fighting them off, until a hint of ash had cut through the metallic scent of her own blood. And then, how her pursuers had fallen unconscious and her savior had emerged from the shadows.
She spared Alain the more sordid details of that night—namely how, in the midst of losing her virginity, she’d accidentally set fire to the bed—but for the better part of an hour, she relayed to him a truncated version of the years that had followed it.
Neldren had promised her a life where she would no longer find herself in the middle of petty guild squabbles. But her reluctance to leave the Dragons had been the first of their many disagreements that had left them going their separate ways. For nearly twenty years, she’d been in a holding pattern, with Neldren flitting in and out of her life for weeks, months, sometimes years at a time.
Mavery had spent so many hours sitting and watching Alain pace about this very room while spouting his ideas and theories. Tonight, she was the one to do the pacing while he gave her his undivided attention.
She recounted the Burnslee job, from its promising setup to its tragic end. When she told Alain of how Neldren had slashed Fennick’s throat, Alain poured himself a very full glass of wine from what remained of the second bottle. When she explained what had happened later that same night, Alain looked ready to open a third. She concluded her story with her run-in with Ellice at the Lettered Gentleman.
“And then she alluded to the boarding house I’ve been staying at. So, you can imagine why I didn’t want to spend another night there.”
“Of course. Were the roles reversed, I would have done the same.” Alain raised the wineglass to his lips, then paused. “You’re certain Neldren has nefarious intent?”
“Yes… No?” She threw her hands up and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe he only wants to talk. Maybe he wants to work together again.”
Alain raised his eyebrows. “Really? After all that happened between you?”
“We’ve reconciled after worse arguments. Granted, none of those involved one of usshootingthe other.”
At that moment, Alain took a very generous drink.
“Besides,” Mavery added, “in our profession—hisprofession, I mean—you work with the most skilled people you know, even if you don’t like them as people. But I’m never going back to that life, especially not for him.”
With that, she reclaimed her seat beside Alain and gestured for him to pass her the wineglass. Speaking for so long had left her parched. The alcohol stung her throat on the way down.
“There’s one part of your story that doesn’t quite add up,” Alain said. “After Neldren…did what he did…how did you wind up in the infirmary?”
“Some kind stranger saw me bleeding out and took pity on me?” She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Alain hesitated before saying delicately, “Do you think it’s possiblehetook you there?”
She furrowed her brow. “Need I remind you how he shot me, robbed me, and left me for dead?”
