nyctasia took a roundabout route to the home of Maegor the Herbalist, circling back erratically through the tangled side streets till she was satisfied that no one followed. When she entered the apothecary’s shop, Maegor merely glanced up and waved her into the back room without a word. Then, when her customer had gone, she locked the front door and joined Nyctasia among the shelves of jars and mortars.
Maegor was a handsome, hill-bred woman, serene and thoughtful, and not much given to talk. She was one of the few people Nyctasia trusted.
“I love the way it smells in here, Maeg. It makes me feel calm, and that’s not easily done.”
Nyctasia had already fetched her belongings from their hiding place beneath a loose flagstone. She slid a chest back over the cache and perched on top of it.
The herbalist embraced her. “’Tasia, I thought you’d been killed! There were all sorts of rumors-”
“Good,” said Nyctasia. “Don’t let it be known that I’m alive. So many people would be disappointed.” She took some dried fruit from a bin and nibbled at it.
“You mean to leave for good, then. Is there no other way?”
“Maeg, my life isn’t worth a copper in Rhostshyl! It’s not only that my Great-Uncle Brethald tried to poison me-”
“Is he the one who died recently?”
Nyctasia did not seem to hear the question. “But,” she continued, “the Teiryns are howling for my blood, the stupid swine, and when I engaged a mercenary escort, I found she’d already been hired to kill me. By both Edonaris and Teiryn.”
“Nyctasia! You’re making that up.”
“You know me better than that, Maeg. As if I’d invent a story so improbable!”
Maegor sighed. “Yes, your lies are always more convincing than the truth. And what became of this mercenary?”
“Oh, I kept her, of course. She seemed to consider it a professional triumph to cheat two employers at once.” Nyctasia laughed. “I like her.”
“You would. A hired killer! Was there no one you could trust among your own guard?”
“I’d be long dead if there weren’t. But my people are Rhostshylid-how could I ask them to go into exile with me?” She began to pace about the narrow storeroom. “If they ever returned to the city after that they’d be condemned as traitors.” Nyctasia kept her doubts to herself. Her own people would have been a constant reminder to her of the duties she was abandoning, the responsibilities of her rank. Better to travel with someone like Corson, whose lack of respect for her was rather a relief. “At least a hired killer can be bribed,” she remarked to Maegor. “It’s the sort with a personal grievance that’s really dangerous.”
“’Tasia, I think I’d rather not hear these things.” She took Nyctasia’s hand, which was sticky from the dried fruit. “Come wash up, and I’ll give you a meal.
You look scruffy as a vagabond student.”
“I can’t stay that long, Maeg,” Nyctasia said regretfully. There was nothing she would have preferred to a bath. “I’m supposed to look like a vagabond student, anyway. Maybe I should put a few more patches on this cloak.”
Maegor shook her head. “I’ll fetch you some scraps of cloth.”
Nyctasia looked through the valuables she’d left with Maegor, picked out those she wanted, and replaced the rest under the floorstone.
Maegor returned with the cloth. “What are you doing?”
“The rest of this is yours. I can’t take all of it with me.”
“I’ll keep it for you then. You may need it. You’ll be back one day.”
“I’d be crazy to come back!”
“You are crazy. All the Edonaris are crazy.”
Nyctasia smiled sadly. “Maeg-”
“If I need the money I’ll use it, ’Tasia,” Maegor said firmly. She held out needle and thread.
Nyctasia could sew neatly enough for a noblewoman who rarely did such things for herself. But now she added the extra patches with a student’s stitches, hasty-looking and irregular.
“How do I look?”
“Disreputable.”
“I’m ready, then,” She took out a letter sealed with plain, unstamped wax. It was an order for the release of certain prisoners, Rhavor’s young servant among them. “Will you see that this is sent, next week when I’m well away from here?
Give it to a traveler, someone who doesn’t know you, and if you’re asked-”
“I know, my dear. Say a stranger gave it me.”
“Yes, isn’t it exhausting? This sort of thing leaves me no time for my studies.
Imagine what it will mean to be someplace safe, where I needn’t constantly scheme to stay alive.”
Maegor appreciated the vagueness of Nyctasia’s “someplace.” Nyctasia never gave herself away. The vahn alone knew what this devious existence was making of her.
The herbalist feared for her friend’s life, but she feared more for her spirit.
“Lie if you think best, ’Tasia, but I’d like to know-are you going to join Erystalben?”
Nyctasia hesitated over her answer, which would of course be something ambiguous like “If I can,” or “I’d like to.”
“Yes, I am,” she said, breaking into a smile.
“I’m glad.” She walked Nyctasia to the door. “I’ll miss you, but you’re right to go. You’ve learned the ways of your enemies too well, ’Tasia. You might forget that there are other ways.”
Nyctasia shrugged. “People learn what they must, to survive.”
“I wonder. If you must destroy yourself to defend yourself, have you truly survived? Be careful, ’Tasia.”
For answer, Nyctasia only turned to Maegor and hugged her as hard as she could.
For once she had nothing to say. She never told people she loved them.