Page 25 of A Fate Unwoven
She began rummaging through the drawer, eyes scanning the various bits of parchment. Most were documents detailing various trade routes and guard rotations from here to the imperial city itself, items that, even though she’d never admit it out loud, made her faith in the smuggler just a little stronger. At least he seemed to know what he was doing. With information like this, it was no wonder he’d never been caught.
But how had he gotten it? Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Lena was about to give up her search when her fingers brushed against something smooth and cold. She pulled out the offending object, peering at it in the darkness. It was a tome, its leather worn and frayed, the writing on the front so faded it was difficult to make out. Lena squinted, tilting her head to try to get a better angle, her pulse quickening. The words weren’t words at all, butsymbols,like the ones she’d seen in her dreams.
She’d just opened the book to a torn-out sketch of what looked like some sort of bracelet engraved with a variety of symbols when someone cleared their throat.
Lena startled, the movement causing the sketch to drift to the floor just as Casimir stepped into the room. She’d been so focused on her search she hadn’t even heard him approaching.
“It isn’t polite to snoop.” The smuggler bent down to pick up the sketch. “Besides, if you wish to know my deepest darkest secrets, all you have to do is ask.”
His words were light, his voice casual, but Lena saw the caution in his expression. The slight darkening of his eyes, the flicker in his jaw. They all confirmed her suspicion that the smugglerwashiding something.
“I wanted to make sure you are who you say you are.” Lena shrugged, matching his casual tone.
The threads around the smuggler wavered into existence, pulsing in time with her own racing heart.
Casimir carefully folded up the sketch and tucked it into his coat. “What makes you think I’m not?” He titled his head, lips twitching into a barely perceptible smirk. His stance was casual, relaxed, as if he found the entire situation amusing.
Lena lifted her chin. “Rumors of the Raven go back to when I was a child. You’re too young to be the same man I heard about back then.”
“So?”
“So, either you’re a lot older than you look, which would mean you’re using some sort of forbidden magic to alter your appearance, or you’re lying about who you are.”
Lena met his stare, trying to read his expression, but the smuggler was giving nothing away. He merely watched her with predator-like focus, as if she were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.
“Alright,” he said after a moment’s pause. “I’ll play. How about a game? An answer for an answer.”
Lena hesitated, fingers curling into her palms as she considered his suggestion. Part of her knew it was a bad idea. That the more she got to know the dark-eyed smuggler, the more she was putting herself—and him—at risk. But another part, the part of her that came alive whenever she was hunting in the woods, wouldn’t let her back down from the challenge in his gaze.
“Fine. But I go first.” She paused, considering her words. “Why do you help enemies of the empire? Why risk it?”
“Because it’s what I do.”
“Yes”—Lena clenched her jaw—“butwhy?”
“That’s two questions, but … I do it because I don’t believe in the empire’s laws. Because most of the empire’s so-called criminals are nothing more than people who dared to believe in a different way of life.” He sucked in a breath. “I do it because there are places in this world where the people I help can live, rather than just survive.”
His gaze was distant for a moment, his expression softer than it had any right to be. In the low light, the freckles across his nose reminded Lena of stars.
She swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable, and was glad when his usual smug expression reappeared.
“Does that answer satisfy you?”
“Just ask your question.” She frowned, leaning back against his desk.
Early-morning sunlight filtered through the room’s small window. Its warmth caressed her skin with a gentleness that made her want to close her eyes. It reminded her of the heat of a campfire’s flames. Of nights sitting with Finæn and Maia at her side, a story on her lips.
An ache spread through her chest, but she forced herself to focus on the smuggler. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could leave Wyrecia—and the memories that haunted her—behind.
Casimir pursed his lips. “How did you know where to find me?”
An image of her mother’s face, brows drawn and mouth tight, flashed through Lena’s mind. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him the truth, but …
“Word travels fast where I’m from,” she said. “You were the whisper on the lips of every heretic who passed through our village.”
It wasn’t a lie, exactly; Lenahadheard villagers speak of the Raven. Those who spoke about him did so as if he were some sort of deity, a savior sent from the Lost Sisters themselves. Lena wondered what they’d think of him if they knew his divine services came at a cost.
“My reputationisrather notorious.” He smiled, as if the idea that so many people knew where to find him wasn’t one that put him in danger. “Second question—ah-ah, don’t glare at me like that, you asked me two things, so it’s only fair. Tell me,Kelia, why do you want to leave Wyrecia?”
