The Drowned Woods (41)

Ifanna floated alone in a pool that looked like it might have held five or six people, provided they didn’t mind brushing elbows. She sat with the water up to her chin, her eyes closed and face relaxed. “If I’d known this was where you were planning to take me, I’d have drunk the poison faster,” she said.

Now that she was properly awake, Fane took her in. Ifanna was a little taller than Mer, with broad shoulders and a narrow face. Her hair was a chestnut brown and her skin lightly tanned. But it was her fingers that drew his attention—they skimmed the surface of the water like restless fish.

Fane kept his towel firmly in place as he sank beneath the water. Ifanna opened one eye, then winked at him before closing it again. She was utterly at ease, loose-limbed and content, not at all fearful that she was sitting in a tub of water with a diviner.

Mer sat rigidly. “Well,” she said. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Ifanna kept her eyes closed. “Just enjoying the water. You have no idea what it’s like to be imprisoned in a place like that.”

The water in the tub rippled.

“Actually,” said Mer, baring her teeth, “I do.”

The water grew noticeably colder and Fane’s heartbeat quickened. He hadn’t felt fear for many years—no, that was untrue. He had not feared for himself in many years. He feared for those around him, feared that he might harm them through accident or inattention.

In that moment, surrounded by bathwater and steam, he realized something. If he were to fight Mer, he wasn’t sure he would win. She could freeze him in place and cut his throat. And she was just ruthless enough to do it.

Fane found himself smiling.

Because for the first time in many years, there was someone he could not kill. And that thought relaxed him far more than the bath.

“Make no mistake,” said Mer, and her voice was very quiet. “You are here because I need you. I had few other choices.” In the low light, her brand looked like a shadow inked upon her skin. A swirling knot—like an adornment rather than a punishment. “If you think what you endured in that prison was terrible, let me remind you that I know the smell of my own skin searing under hot metal.” The water suddenly felt hotter. “And I will make this brand look like a mere bruise should you betray me a second time.”

Ifanna sat up straighter, her fingers vanishing deeper into the water as she braced herself on the stone bench. “I never do the same job twice.” Her smile was knife sharp and viper swift. “Tell me what you’re going to steal.”

And to Fane’s surprise, Mer did. When she was finished, Ifanna tipped her head back and laughed.

“Let me see if I have this right,” said Ifanna. “You’re going to rob the prince. By finding a magical well. Across a heavily guarded shoal. And then he’ll fight a legendary monstrous boar.” She threw a skeptical look at Fane. “You think he can slay an immortal beast?”

Fane shrugged. “Things are only immortal until you kill them.”

“Your hired muscle should have been a philosopher.” Ifanna stretched, her shoulders cracking. “All right. When do you need this key?”

“As soon as possible,” said Mer. “Look for the house on Spicer’s Row. Periwinkles in the garden. No bodies, as of yet.”

Fane looked down to hide his smile.

Ifanna merely cocked an eyebrow. “Well, that’s reassuring.” She rose from the tub, wrapping a clean towel around herself. “I’ll be by in a day’s time.” With another wink, she walked away from the tub. Fane watched her go.

“You think she’ll betray us?” he asked.

Mer shook her head. “I wouldn’t have told her that much if I did.”

“She betrayed you once already.”

“Yes,” said Mer. “Which is why she won’t do it again. Ifanna is half in love with her own reputation—and the lure of this job is one she can’t resist. She yearns to make a name for herself outside of her family.”

“You’re betting on her nature,” said Fane.

“I’m betting on her ego,” said Mer. A few strands of steam-dampened hair fell across her cheek. “I’ll not trust her again, not with any part of myself. But with business… yes. That I know she’ll not betray.”

Fane looked down at the dark water; candlelight glittered across the surface. It seemed a dangerous bargain to trust this thief with the knowledge of their heist. But then again, he could not judge another’s bargains.





CHAPTER 12


MER HAD BEEN with the thieves’ guild for two years before Ifanna betrayed her.

It had been a simple job—the kind that made Ifanna turn up her nose and squint at her mothers as if they’d asked her to eat a live frog. “Taxes? You want me to go collecting taxes?”

The guild’s tax was something Mer had come to understand over the years. It was a payment given to the guild by the wealthier traders and merchants of the city, and so long as they paid, their wagons and shipments were safe. And more than that, no other thieves would dare rob them. Should a rogue try, they would find the full force of the guild hunting them—and Mer had seen what happened to such people.

Ifanna’s mothers were in one of the manor’s sitting rooms. Aldyth had thick golden hair and eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Melangell was slender, with dark reddish hair and the same long-fingered hands as Ifanna. They were both in their mid-forties, beautiful and aloof as a winter’s morning. And Mer had never managed to endear herself to either of them. But she was a useful tool, earning her weight in gold over the years. She had aided smugglers by boat, guided the guild’s people through sewers and sea caves, and perhaps most importantly, she was Ifanna’s second-in-command. The other thieves and pickpockets had learned to trust her, to accept her orders, to expect the diviner by their leader’s side. It helped that she was kind to them, knew their names, and used her magic to warm drinks on cold nights.