Page 59 of Assassin's Mercy

Playing Possum

The next day, Verve woke to Ivet’s cheerful voice from below her loft.

“Verve,” Ivet called softly. “It’s almost midday. Are you still asleep?” Excitement sparkled through the Sufani woman’s presence.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Verve crawled to the edge of the loft and peered down. “What’s wrong?”

Ivet beamed up at her, clutching at a rucksack hung over her shoulder. “Nothing. Come down. I have a surprise for you.”

There were a host of reasons Ivet might be here now, but only one seemed feasible. “I’m not awake enough for another embroidery lesson,” Verve said. They’d had a few before Verve’s ill-fated trip back to Freehold.

“Oh, bother,” Ivet said wryly. “That’s disappointing. Of course, I certainly have no other reason to rouse you back from the almost-dead than to test your hand-eye coordination with a needle and thread.”

Verve groaned and flopped back down. “Ivet…”

The ladder creaked as Ivet clambered up. “The rhyme was unintentional. I can’t help myself sometimes. By the One, when did you start you sleeping like the dead? I’ve been calling you for a few minutes.”

“Strange,” Verve said, covering her mouth as she yawned. “I usually don’t sleep so soundly.” Space-Between-Stars’ influence, perhaps, or maybe she was just still healing from her encounter with Legion.

“Sleep that deep means you must have needed it.” Ivet gave Verve a look of concern. “You haven’t been getting into the Willow’s liquor stores again, have you?”

Heat crept to Verve’s cheeks; she cast a furtive glance at her collection of empty bottles, hidden beneath several wads of hay. “Not since before Freehold.”

Ivet eyed her. “There’s no shame in getting lost in a bottle — or in puffer smoke, for that matter. Happens to a lot of folks, especially in a world like ours. But I worry, sometimes, that you’ll get so lost, you won’t find your way out.”

The lilt of Ivet’s Sufani accent came through more clearly now than Verve had heard before, and her compassion slipped into Verve’s awareness like an arm around her shoulder. And within Verve’s spirit, Space-Between-Stars softened, as if Ivet’s kindness had made the Fae forget—just for a moment—how much they hated Verve.

She couldn’t meet Ivet’s gaze. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “I’m… okay.”

She turned her attention to the pile of dirty laundry she’d been avoiding. She was almost out of clean socks, so she’d have to borrow Berel’s washtub again soon. The thought made her strangely giddy. How long since she’d been able to make even the most mundane plans for the future? Hell, how long since she’d slept as deeply as she had since returning to Lotis?

“I don’t know how much you care for festivals,” Ivet went on after a moment. “But today’s the spring equinox: Ea’s Day.”

These days, most mention of the old gods like Ea was kept to the more exciting holidays, occasional swears, and a few dedicated worshippers. As Sufani, Verve’s family had only ever cared about the One god, and Danya had only ever allowed the Chosen to worship Atal.

A flicker of recognition from the depths of Celidon’s memories sparked understanding within Verve. “Ea… They’re the protector of animals. You celebrate Ea’s Day here?”

Verve grabbed one of her tunics. Clean enough to wear? She inhaled a distinct sour odor, gagged, and tossed the tunic away. Hopefully Space-Between-Stars’ tendency to heighten smells, sounds, and sensations was in full swing here; hopefully she didn’t smell that bad.

Ivet smiled. “We do, indeed. The festival usually lasts three days, but we’re humble folk here, so we only manage one. But we go all out — as much as we can, at any rate. We’ve little in the way of proper costumes, but Kinneret will look so dear in her mouse ears. And Lio decided he could forgo the fire drake costume in favor of a robin — Owen found him some feathers.” She lifted a brow. “Hadiya made a gorgeous turtle shell from a fallen cypress for me to wear. And I brought this for you.”

She plunked down the rucksack, which Verve eyed warily. What sort of animal did the Lotis villagers think suited her? Within the bag was a…

She withdrew a felt possum tail and gaped at Ivet. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all. Possums eat all sorts of pests and they don’t get the mouth-foaming sickness. Besides, I think they have an adorable, if strange, way about them.”

Verve skimmed her fingers over the soft tail, noting the fine stitching. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Ivet chuckled. “Nothing I haven’t said already. Nori made the tail. Turns out she’s quite a skilled seamstress.”

With the tail was a pair of round gray ears attached to a leather headband, and a small furry cape that might very well have been a real possum, once. Verve stared at the pieces and didn’t know what to think. So she only said, “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” Ivet’s eyes flickered over Verve, her dirty laundry, and the stack of hay in the corner. “I know this may seem… odd to you. Alem told me what happened to you at Freehold, besides getting the shit beaten out of you by those Legion bastards.”

Verve’s hand stole to the cut Danya had given her on her cheek, but not even a small mark remained. Alem was nothing if not thorough. “What exactly did he tell you?” Verve asked.

Ivet’s brows knitted, and a look of pure rage passed over her face, although it dissipated immediately. “He didn’t know many specifics, but from what he said… Well, I don’t blame you for wanting to leave whatever life you had before. So I spoke to Dannel, Hadiya, and the others; we all agreed you deserve some fun, and we wanted to show you how much we appreciate what you’ve done for our little village.” Her voice softened. “Alem’s told me what he knows of meridians, so I know you feel… Well, you feel more than most. Seems like a blessing sometimes, and a curse, others. Tonight, we all hope to give you a little of the former.”

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