Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)(21)

“What else?” I asked.

“A few other things that aren’t magical in nature. I’m handy. Locks, coin purses, the usual.” He grinned impishly.

Something clicked in my mind. “The coins you put on the table before we left . . . those belonged to the guardsmen, didn’t they?”

His smile widened. “You’re clever. I like that in a person.”

“And you’re a thief,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Only when the occasion requires it. I wouldn’t take something from someone who didn’t deserve its loss.” He put on a lofty expression, but I somehow doubted he always acted for the greater good.

“Right,” I said, not really in the mood or position to argue over his flimsy morals. Who was I to take positions on laws or morality when my actions had directly led to the destruction of an entire village and another subsequent massacre?

“What powers do you have?” he asked.

“I was apprenticed to an herbalist, so I’m good with potions and tinctures. I can see the magic in all living things, or enchanted objects. That’s it.” I wasn’t going to destroy the first chance I’d had to speak to another demigod by telling him about my blood and its power to twist fate. He’d run for the hills before I could speak another word.

He tilted his head. “That’s odd. Most of us have the Sight to some extent, though yours sounds more vivid than most. I’ve never heard of that being someone’s only gift. My sister Nismae would be intrigued.”

“Is she one of us as well?” I tried to ignore the twinge in my chest. The reminder that other people had families and communities might never cease to sting.

He shook his head. “No, Nismae is mortal—my half sister. A scholar. She spent years in Corovja researching magic and enchanted objects.”

“She still does that now?” I asked. I wondered if she’d ever heard of a gift like mine.

“No, not exactly.” He hesitated. “Nismae joined the Nightswifts to fund her education, then never left. It gave her more power than she would have had as a scholar alone.”

“Who are the Nightswifts?” My frustration bubbled over. Everyone kept talking about them like I ought to know who they were.

Hal looked at me strangely. “You must live under a rock. The Nightswifts used to be the boar king’s elite assassins. They took their new name when they split from the crown a couple of summers ago. Now the king has put a bounty on their heads.”

No wonder the guards had been so eager to catch Nightswifts—they must have wanted the money for bringing them in.

“Why is there a bounty on them?” I asked.

“The boar king doesn’t appreciate turncoats, and he doesn’t want people with their knowledge and abilities freelancing. If they’ll take money from anybody, it’s only so long before some of the advisers and knowledge keepers he relies on become targets,” Hal said.

“Will they come after you?” No matter how badly I wanted to know another demigod, that didn’t sound like the kind of trouble I could risk.

“No, I don’t think so. My sister is the one who worked for the crown, not me.” He frowned a little, like there was some history there he didn’t feel like explaining.

“So your sister was employed by the king as an assassin and now he’s trying to kill her.” I didn’t like the sound of this.

“An assassin and a researcher,” Hal corrected me. “Who better to track down rare and dangerous artifacts than someone who is an expert at stealth and killing? She loved her job until the king tried to have her killed.” His voice was carefully neutral.

“What for?” I said, shocked. Why would the king turn against someone who loved what she did and was so useful to him?

“Nismae was researching a special artifact for him, some imaginary chunk of rock that supposedly grants eternal life—the Fatestone. When she got a few promising leads on its location, the king sent her on a suicide mission to try to dispose of her because she knew too much. I suppose he didn’t trust her not to take it for herself. Needless to say, she survived. She took the rest of the Swifts and broke away from the crown. How have you not heard most of this already?” He cast a puzzled glance my way.

“I’m from a remote town in the mountains. We don’t get much news in winter.” Up on my mountain I had received less than most. Perhaps the elders in Amalska would have known, but they hadn’t lived long enough to spread the word. Guilt made my stomach clench.

“Must be in the middle of nowhere. What do you do for fun all cut off from civilization? Have competitions to see who can build the best lewd snow sculpture? Surely that gets old a few moons into winter,” he joked.

I gave him a withering look, but he only smiled in return.

With his jovial manner and rather unthreatening appearance, he didn’t look like an assassin. Maybe that was intentional—he was certainly tall and strong enough to do some damage if the occasion required it. Still, my anxiety grew the more I found out. I had enough problems already. I didn’t want to get involved in vendettas that put assassins at odds with kings.

All I wanted was to find Ina, stop her from killing the king, and then maybe start over somewhere new.

“Well, if you’re a Nightswift, you might be able to help me. I’m looking for my friend. I thought I sensed her with you in that building when the guards attacked. Her name is Invasya. Dark brown hair, blue eyes . . .” Creamy skin. Soft lips. Hands that could melt me with the slightest touch.