“As promised.”
Yasen handed her the object, a shaft of tal no longer than Trissiny’s index finger. She accepted it almost gingerly, imdiately holding it up to the intermittent light passing through the windows of the carriage. If the vehicle had interior fairy lamps, they were dormant, leaving only the shifting glow of the city to illuminate them. In a way, that helped prove the composition of the key fragnt. Under full sunlight, the blade of Ruda’s sword might pass for steel, but in dimr and especially moving light, it caught and refracted illumination in a way that both emphasized its paler color and made it almost resemble a jewel. This piece had the sa quality. She lightly probed at its indentations with a fingertip; they matched the illustration in the book. Had she stumbled upon this thing without context, Trissiny doubted she would have interpreted its shape as part of a key, but knowing the fact made the arrangent obvious.
“I had the royal jeweler extract it from its setting,” Yasen continued while she studied Gretchen’s Dowry—or what was left of it. “I honestly thought the poor man was going to burst into tears.”
“I hope this won’t get you into trouble with your mother,” Trissiny murmured.
“Oh, nonsense, you don’t think I’m keeping this from her, do you?” Yasen snorted in a distinctly un-royal manner, and Trissiny had the sudden thought that between her and Ruda she had no evidence that the snooty stereotype of princesses actually existed outside of books. “Believe , the Sultana of Calderaas is always pleased to assist the Hand of Avei in a quest, and while tonight’s main event was my idea, I wouldn’t dare set sothing like that into motion without Mother’s approval. She regrets not being able to present her complints in person, but House Aldarasi’s involvent in all of this must remain a secret, or there’ll be real trouble from the Houses represented in that party you just crashed. Speaking of which…”
“I’m sorry, what?” Trissiny glanced up at her. “Who are you? How’d you get in this carriage?”
“The Sultanate appreciates your discretion,” Yasen said primly.
“In seriousness, though, does your mother know that you ca to supervise this personally?”
“Ah, well.” The princess turned to face forward, folding her hands demurely in her lap, but ruined the effect by giving Trissiny a sidelong look accompanied by a sly little smile. “Mother can’t be expected to know everything. Ruling a country is complicated business, after all.”
“Yeah, I had a feeling.”
The princess had arranged two carriages with drivers; Trissiny did not quite follow her assertion that this would be more discreet than piling everyone into a larger, more luxurious model, but had been too distracted by her thoughts to make an issue of it.
“You seem unhappy.”
She glanced up to find Yasen looking at her now, her expression open and even. Trissiny closed her fist around the fragnt of mithril; she hadn’t handled it long, but it didn’t seem to have picked up any heat from her hand.
“I understand the necessity of what happened back there, or I wouldn’t have agreed to participate. But I think sothing would have to be very wrong with if I ca away feeling good about it. I just beat and tornted a woman who was no physical threat to , at all. Do you really think Lady Araadia deserved that treatnt?”
“Wrong question,” Yasen murmured in a pensive tone which took any rebuke out of the statent. “Whether she did or not, summarily assaulting soone isn’t justice. If I know my Avenists, that’s the thing that sits most poorly with you.”
“Good insight.”
The princess nodded. “No, frankly, I don’t think she did. Irina Araadia is a splendidly useless creature as only a noble can be, but she wasn’t by a wide margin the most corrupt person even in that room. While her little museum sche is surely one of the more asinine manifestations of the problems in Calderaas, it certainly was not among the most abusive. The point was to remind an entire stratum of society that there are limits, and beyond them, consequences. Yours was rely the ugly part; Toby’s role was equally important, and there will co more maneuvering by my mother and the cults in the days ahead to encourage the Houses to act rightly, using more…positive thods. A jolt of fear to shake their arrogance is but one tactic in a larger strategy.” She shifted her head to gaze aimlessly out the window at the passing city scenery. “In that, Irina was a sacrificial lamb. The greater good always leaves victims, by definition. Otherwise it would just be the good.”
“You sound almost Eserite,” Trissiny said with a sigh of her own. “I went to the Guild to learn how to plot my way around confrontation, the way the Wreath has done to a few tis. What they mostly taught was how to be creatively cruel and terrorize people into compliance.”
“Good,” Yasen said firmly. “The more you can frighten soone into obeying, the less you’ll have to hurt them.”
“You don’t find that attitude just a little horrifying?”
“Yes, but it’s the basis of all criminal justice. Almost every aspect of rulership is a little horrifying, that’s just how societies work. Soone has to do so brutal jobs so that the majority of people can go about their lives in peace. You are, unfortunately, one of those specialists. As long as you do your job only when it’s needed and don’t try to run a whole society that way, all will be well. Let ask you this, Trissiny.” Yasen shifted toward her almost fully on the seat, folding one of her legs across it between them. “How familiar are you with the history of paladins?”
Trissiny opened her mouth to answer, then hesitated. “Well. That was a major emphasis of my early education, but not so long ago an Eserite courtesan of all people pointed out a few massive blind spots in it. What did you have in mind, specifically?”
“I had a feeling,” Yasen said, nodding. “We have a bit of the sa issue here. With all the Avenist influence, the history most people learn is just a tad romanticized—and the Church pushing a narrative of a united Pantheon exacerbates it. At this point you have to go to the Veskers or Nemitites to learn how paladins historically related to each other. Which is to say, like strange cats, most of the ti.”
“Really?” Trissiny’s eyebrows involuntarily shot upward. “All right, you got . That I wasn’t taught. I an, there have been scuffles between paladins in all the great adventure stories, but…”
“But they were presented as passing misunderstandings?” Yasen shook her head, smiling ruefully. “There’s a reason an episode like that happens in almost all the great epics. Hands of Avei and Sorash considered each other worse than demons. Hands of Omnu firmly disapproved of just about everything every other paladin did, and most of Toby’s predecessors did not share his reluctance to assert himself. Hands of Salyrene were only intermittently useful to the cause of protecting humanity; their goddess was just as interested in advancing knowledge through experintation, and quite a few of her Hands got up to things that resulted in other paladins putting them down. Magnan the Enchanter took it to a new extre, but he was treading a well-worn path. There is an entire theological school of thought, which has fallen out of the public eye only in the last century, that the whole purpose of gods calling paladins was to fight with each other without using their full power and thus devastating the world the way the Elder Gods did.”
“Why does everyone know more about the history of my lineage than I do?” Trissiny complained.
Yasen laughed, reaching over to squeeze her upper arm below the silver pauldron. “Oh, I assure you, everyone does not. Like I said, the Church has gone to great lengths to encourage the view you were taught; not everybody has access to royal archives and a fondness for old adventure sagas. But I wasn’t changing the subject, Trissiny. Rember that I didn’t just ask you to barge into that party and slap Irina around; I asked all three of you to intervene, and in specifically different ways. Toby to appeal to their better nature, you to impose order, Gabriel to project chilling eldritch nace. You see the hierarchy, there?”
“Velvet ntioned the sa thing,” Trissiny acknowledged. “Toby’s part, anyway. Maybe so of those people will be more receptive next ti an Omnist politely asks them to consider others.”
“Oh, I guarantee they will,” Yasen assured her. “And not just because they don’t want to et your fist, or even because they don’t want to find out what else that scythe can do. House Araadia is going to take a long ti to recover from this setback, but every other House represented at tonight’s gala is, I promise you, already planning how to take advantage of this. Most will reach out to the Sisterhood directly; I expect your Silver Missions will find themselves most generously funded in the days to co. If you stay in one place and make yourself accessible, aristocrats will begin trying to court you—in so cases, quite literally.”
“What kind of person flirts with their own natural predators?” Trissiny demanded in exasperation.
“Nobles,” Yasen answered imdiately. “That’s what we do, Trissiny. It’s what we are. Nobles are predatory toward each other to a truly insane degree; we expect nothing less, from anyone. Nobody takes it personally. Well, Irina will after the way you lit into her, but the rest? You didn’t damage them directly, so the question is not how they will stop you, but how they can use you. That is why it was so important to present yourself as a force of nature beyond their control, not a rival for power. Otherwise, anything you did to any of them would have been business as usual.”
Trissiny could find no imdiate answer for that, and Yasen heaved a deep sigh, her gaze growing unfocused.
“That’s the thing, you see. The best thing that ever happened to was getting out of my palace, going to Last Rock and spending ti with peasants, oddballs, and people from all walks of life. The most important thing I learned from interacting with them is that they all want the sa things I do. Growing up rich and in control, it’s so easy to assu that poor people are…lesser. Lazy, selfish, sohow to bla for their situation. But people are just people. And even at their most venal, the basic drives that motivate them ensure that most people, most of the ti, do the right thing. People want to contribute, to belong, to feel and to be valuable, to be part of sothing greater than themselves. No end of trouble results from people misunderstanding or disagreeing on what is the right thing to do, but in the end? We all want what’s best, as best we understand it.”
Slowly, she shifted back to face forward, still perched in that awkward way half-on the seat. Her gaze had beco distant; Trissiny wasn’t sure whether Yasen was still talking to her, or arguing with herself.
“The two exceptions are despair, and power. People who are so ground down that they have no hope stop bothering with anything that could give aning to their lives. And people who have power…” Her whole expression tightened unhappily. “Power distorts the mind like nothing else. It becos the end and the ans, the only thing you think about or care about. Most people will do right because with a modicum of intelligence, self-interest is at least sowhat altruistic. The powerful only do right when they are afraid to do otherwise. And powerful people are the leading cause of populations falling into despair. So, yes.” She turned back to face Trissiny, her eyes coming back into focus and glinting in the dimness. “You’d better believe I am comfortable unleashing whatever monster I can catch against the powerful. That’s what constitutes working with them.”
“And then,” Trissiny said quietly, “there’s us, who can do a thing like we just did and then flitter off into the night without consequence. What does that say about us?”
Yasen expelled a soft breath that might have been a sigh, though she smiled thinly at the sa ti. “It says we are walking a very narrow path, and had best watch where we step.”
“You are a puzzle,” Trissiny said frankly. “You seem downright happy-go-lucky most of the ti. But the way you talk about the responsibilities of your position, you make it sound so grim. Which one is the act?”
“Oh, Trissiny.” Yasen eased closer and placed an elbow on the back of the seat, to lean her cheek into her hand and give Trissiny a fondly chiding look. “Any Vidian can tell you that the secret to acting is not to act, but to believe.”
“That’s a deflection if I ever heard one.”
“Not at all, it’s an explanation.” Casually, she reached out to brush back a blonde lock which had co loose from Trissiny’s braid, and only her practice with the Guild on not giving away every little thought prevented her from stiffening up. Surely the princess didn’t… “Life is grim, if it’s nothing but responsibility. Taking ti for oneself can feel like selfishness, to the conscientious person, but in truth a little maintenance for the mind and spirit is necessary.”
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“Now it sounds like you’re describing prayer. Or exercise.”
“Both good approaches,” Yasen agreed readily. “It depends on the individual. It’s an absolute necessity to find monts of joy, whatever form they may take for you.” Idly, she shifted her hand again, lightly brushing the back of her fingers along Trissiny’s cheekbone, while very slowly but inexorably leaning closer. “We serve no one by falling into grim despair, my dear. We must take whatever pleasure we can from life. With whoever will share it, for however long the opportunity lasts. After all…who can say what might happen tomorrow?”
Well, this explained the separate carraiges, anyway.
Carefully, Trissiny eased backward, away from those caressing fingers. “I don’t get a lot of opportunities to…share pleasure. It’s probably the armor. Only won ever seem to approach , and I have never been even slightly attracted to my own sex.”
Yasen stopped, her eyes widening in open surprise. “…really? But you’re the actual Hand of Avei! Didn’t you grow up in Viridill?”
“Ooh, darling, yes,” Trissiny said, utterly deadpan. “Stereotype . Harder, please.”
The princess stared for a shocked mont, and then burst into laughter so hard she almost doubled over. Sohow, though, she turned the movent into gracefully retreating back to her side of the seat.
“All right, point vividly made,” Yasen gasped once she could, brushing a tear out of her lashes. “Well! My loss, then. Can’t bla a girl for trying.”
“Nothing will happen if you don’t try,” Trissiny agreed, smiling back. With the awkwardness defused, Yasen’s mirth was quite infectious.
“Stay reckless, Trissiny.” Just like that, though, the laughter faded from the princess’s countenance. “As long as you can be hurt, as long as you’re not too comfortable, not insulated from the consequences of your actions, you’re not turning into one of them.” She shifted to stare out at her city as they passed through it in the night. “I hope.”
“Man, what is it with you and that entire family?” Gabriel asked, shaking his head. “You’re like Aldarasi catnip.”
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Trissiny grumbled.
“You probably shouldn’t have,” he agreed. “I’m constitutionally incapable of letting it go, now.”
“Such a funny little thing, to be the focus of so much trouble,” Toby mused, studying the key fragnt on his open palm. Strolling through the park under the morning sunlight as they were now, it looked like any miscellaneous piece of tal, albeit highly polished. “I’m really curious what it is this thing is supposed to unlock, when it’s restored.”
“It’ll turn out at the last minute that the real treasure was friendship or sothing,” Trissiny said, rolling her eyes. “Mark my words.”
“So…you’re still coming along, right?” Gabriel asked, nudging her with an elbow. “You’ve co this far with us!”
“I’m still considering that,” she hedged.
She was saved from having to go into any more detail by their arrival. The park seed more crowded today than on her previous visit, but then, they weren’t creeping off into its most secluded corner this ti. The three paladins had followed the footpath as directed to a small fountain in a little paved roundabout surrounded by benches and lamp posts, where their contacts were waiting. All were making a go at discretion, now that they’d thoroughly offended a swath of the city’s nobility. Trissiny was back in civilian clothes, her armor left in the Sultana’s palace for safekeeping—under the care of a particularly devout steward who Yasen said would doubtless consider the task the highlight of her life. Toby could’ve been any young Western man to soone who didn’t know his face, now that he was back in street clothes rather than formal robes, and Gabriel had taken the precaution of hiding his distinctive coat in a dinsional pocket. Ironically, he was sweating more without it; the weatherproof enchantnts on traditional Punaji greatcoats were the reason sailors wore them from the equator to the arctic.
“Hey, guys!” Jeb called, waving exuberantly. “Ya made it!”
“Course they made it, ya galoot, what’d ya think was gonna happen,” Zeke said, but tipped his hat in greeting, grinning at them.
“Boys,” Trissiny said, nodding distractedly. Most of her attention was caught by the other person present.
“You wanna make a quick sketch?” Rainwood suggested dryly. “It’ll last longer.”
“Sorry,” she said automatically. “I’m just surprised by how well you clean up.”
In fact, he looked a lot like he had in her shamanic vision, though his hair was still much shorter. It was clean, now, brushed and even styled, giving him a rakish look. He also wore a green robe of supple dyed leather, ornately decorated with silver accents and beads, and carried a hardwood staff which was oiled and polished till it fairly glowed, topped with a chunk of rose quartz the size of her fist. Rather than a holess layabout, he fully looked the part of an elvish shaman.
“A word in your ear, cousin, if I may?” Rainwood said more quietly, tilting his head pointedly to the side. Trissiny glanced at the others; Toby gave her a smile and a nod, Gabriel already in conversation with the Jenkinses.
She and Rainwood stepped a few feet away, not truly out of earshot but gaining a little privacy.
“So, have you decided on your next move?” the elf asked her.
“Not…entirely,” Trissiny admitted. “I’m leaning toward going back to the grove. This whole episode has left feeling the need for more quiet contemplation.”
“Well…with apologies…I’m going to offer you so unsolicited advice,” he said seriously. “I know little enough of your life, Trissiny, but I’ve been around. A lot. So take it for whatever it may be worth. Go on the quest.”
She sighed. “Why?”
“If I’m not mistaken, you have an Avenist’s impatience with pursuits in which you see no practical benefit. Right?” He smiled lopsidedly.
“That’s not just an Avenist thing,” she pointed out, folding her arms. “I don’t know of anybody who enjoys wasting ti with other people’s pointless nonsense.”
“Actually, lots of folks do. Anyone who would rather enjoy life than stress about eting arbitrary goals, in fact. But that isn’t an argunt I would pitch to you, of all people. Let put it this way…” He shifted, half-turning to look out over the park, where people were walking, playing, and reading in the sunlight. “Vesk’s missions are never pointless, any more than a story is. To him, they’re one and the sa. They are very literally character-building exercises. To put it in Avenist terms, training. He will break you down and build you back up, just like you would a new recruit into an army.”
“I’m not sure I trust what Vesk would want to build into,” she retorted.
“Well, what are you?” Rainwood looked at her again, smiling faintly. “Because that’s what he’ll aim for. Think in storytelling terms, in archetypes. Are you the knight in shining armor? The thief? The orphan? The point of a hero’s journey is to bring you through the darkness and into the wisdom and greater power you earn on the other side. He’ll try to make you more of whatever it is you are.”
“That sounds…unpleasant,” she admitted.
He nodded slowly, turning his eyes back to the park. “Mm. Education is usually no fun, even when you seek it out and pay your tuition. Having it thrust upon you unsolicited is almost as enjoyable as surprise dental surgery. But the fact remains, it’s one of the best and most important things you can experience. I will say this, though, Trissiny: if you do decide to continue on, have a care. You’ve begun this journey by besting weaker foes with scornful ease. If this were a story, that would an you have a real test coming down the line. And if you’re working for Vesk, it’s always a story.”
“No.” She shook her head slowly, also gazing out across the park now, even as Rainwood turned to look at her in mild surprise. “That wasn’t the test, or the lesson. Those simpering nobles were never the enemy. I was. I…don’t think I won that battle.”
He reached up to squeeze her shoulder. “Yeah. You’ll do just fine, kiddo. All right, now I’ve gotta be moving along myself.” The shaman hiked up his staff, leaning it over his shoulder, and turned to amble back toward the group, Trissiny following along. “As I ntioned before, I have my own quest. The spirits are guiding westward, where my help is needed.”
“By whom?” Toby asked, turning to him.
Rainwood grinned and shrugged. “No idea! That’s the fun of both shamanism and adventure: you figure it out as you go.”
“Well…uh, nice eting you, then,” said Gabriel.
“I’ve got a funny feeling our paths haven’t crossed for the last ti,” Rainwood replied, winking. He patted Trissiny on the upper back. “But who knows? We’ll all find out what’s in the future when we get there. Till then.”
It was the strangest thing to observe; he didn’t seem to transform, exactly, but one mont he was an elf and then he wasn’t, and it was as if he never had been and they’d only just noticed. Trissiny recalled Kuriwa doing very much the sa thing. Jeb let out a muffled exclamation of surprise, which the little black cat ignored, trotting away across the park. They all stared after him until he ducked under a bush and was gone from sight.
“That was one weird dude,” Zeke observed. “Paid well, though.”
“You’ve got interesting relatives, Triss,” said Gabe.
She sighed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“So!” Jeb grinned broadly at them. “Where y’all off to next, then?”
“I think you boys ntioned you were between steady jobs at the mont,” Trissiny said. “And that you ca from a ranch originally. Right?”
“Hey, you rembered!” Jeb said cheerfully. “See, Zeke, I told you she was nice! Pays attention to us little folk an’ everything.”
“I never said she wasn’t nice, Jeb,” Zeke said quickly, glancing at Trissiny. “I said she has more important stuff to do than worry about the likes a’ you an’ . Which was true.”
Trissiny opted not to weigh in on that. Instead, ignoring Gabriel’s snickering, she reached into her coat and carefully extracted the sealed letter she had stashed there, holding it out to Zeke. “Right. Well, you did help , in the end, and I didn’t want to just cut you loose and vanish—”
“All right!” Jeb whooped, actually jumping into the air and pumping a fist skyward. “You just say the word, boss lady! We’re off ta kick ass and praise Avei!”
She stared at him for a mont, then turned back to his brother. “…so I wrote you a letter of recomndation. If you decide you’ve had enough of Calderaas, charter a Rail caravan to Last Rock and give this to Mr. Ryan Cartwright. He owns most of the horses along that stretch of frontier; anybody in town can direct you to him. Gabe and I worked for him last year, and he liked us both well enough I’m confident my recomndation will get you a job.”
Jeb had fallen still, frowning at her in consternation. Zeke slowly reached up to accept the envelope, also looking puzzled. “Uh, maybe it’s none o’ my business, ma’am, but why was a couple’a paladins workin’ as ranch hands?”
“Punishnt duty,” Gabriel explained, grinning. “One of the options Tellwyrn gave us was jobs in town with wages transferred to the University. We both went for that one, since it involved the greatest distance from her squawking.”
“Last Rock is a tiny town,” Trissiny continued, “but it’s not a boring one. You’ll et all kinds of people. Especially girls,” she added, giving Jeb a pointed look. “The sort you like, with backbones and no patience for your crap, Jeb. Townies, passing adventurers, University students. If you get tired of trying your luck in the city, it’s an option, anyway.”
“Girls?” Toby’s eyebrows had risen so high it almost looked painful. “Trissiny, you’re helping them get dates?”
“Uh…how certain are we that this is really Trissiny?” Gabriel muttered out the corner of his mouth, sidling closer to him.
“Her aura is unmistakable,” Ariel replied, making Jeb jump and look around for the source of her voice.
“That’s…real thoughtful of you, ma’am,” said Ezekiel slowly. “I appreciate the gesture. You don’t owe us nothin’, though. It was a plumb honor to help out a little.”
“I thought we might could co with you!” Jeb burst out, suddenly giving up searching for the voice and turning to her, hat in hand and being roughly squeezed the way he did when nervous. Zeke sighed, but his brother continued on, undaunted. “Cos, y’know, you’re sorta right, Calderaas ain’t been that great for us. But, co on, what’re the odds a’ two guys like us etin’ a paladin? Twice? Maw always said, the gods move in mysterious ways. We can both ride an’ shoot and we ain’t afraid o’ hard work!”
“Good,” she said firmly. “Those are traits you’ll need on Cartwright’s ranch.”
“Yeah, but—”
“People like you get killed for following people like !” she snapped. “Ignore anything Rainwood told you about adventure, Jenkins. That stuff’s for storybooks. My life is violence, destruction, and being manipulated into one disaster after another. Do you understand? You will die, and I don’t need to see that happen.”
“Well…shit, Ms. Trissiny, everybody dies a’ sothin’,” Jeb said earnestly. “Our great uncle Leroy, Vidius rest his soul, got sward by kobolds. But he made it an sothin’! He protected his family an’ the house till help could co. I figured, ever since, if everybody’s gotta go out, I wanna make it…y’know, important.”
“Well, you can do that on your own ti, if that’s what you want,” she said curtly. “I have real work to do, and no more ti to babysit you.”
“C’mon, Jeb,” Zeke said quietly, taking him by the elbow. “It was a good day’s work, now let’s not waste the paladin’s ti.”
Jebediah resisted his brother’s tugging, still staring at Trissiny with a frown of increasing consternation. “Hell, ma’am, we ain’t made a’ glass. If you just don’t like us, you can say so.”
“Why would I like you?” Trissiny roared, causing him to shy back in shock. “The whole ti I’ve been saddled with you two nincompoops has been one ss after another, all cause because you two are more incompetent at everything you attempt than any human being can possibly be and still be alive! I swear, you’re either fairies in disguise or you’re doing it on purpose, and either way I have had just about enough of your nonsense. You act like that in my business and within one week, tops, you’ll be dead with your entrails spread around a two-acre area. And just because I don’t want to watch that doesn’t an it would be any less of a relief!”
Jeb gaped at her with his mouth open. Zeke, Toby, and Gabriel were a little more contained, but not by a lot; the shock appeared to be universal.
After a few excruciating seconds of silence, Jebediah closed his mouth, swallowed heavily once, and took a step backward. He carefully tipped his hat to her, turned, and walked away.
Zeke, seeming unsure what to do, himself, finally cleared his throat and tipped his own hat in her direction. “…ma’am.” Then he followed after Jeb, leaving stillness behind.
Trissiny watched them go, slowly drawing in a deep breath. She let it out with the sa deliberate slowness, as if maintaining that control could expel everything seething in her at that mont.
Toby stepped up next to her. His expression, now, was purely concerned.
“Please don’t,” she said. He opened his mouth, closed it, nodded, and patted her on the shoulder.
“So, uh,” Gabriel said from behind them, “far be it from to interrupt all the awkwardness, but you guys might wanna look at this.”
They turned, and what was coming up the path drove the whole conversation out of their minds.
Easily the most incredible thing was that none of the other people in the park reacted to the approach of the carriage; it appeared no one could even see it. Apart from being an unusual open-topped model and painted solid black, the carriage itself was not very noteworthy. Its driver, though, was a lean man in a broad black hat, holding a vicious-looking scythe which towered over his seat. It was the horses pulling the vehicle which were most alarming, though. Skeletally emaciated, they had eyes which flickered with dim blue flas, and streaming wisps of black smoke for manes and tails; their hooves made a peculiar ringing sound on the path, shod with brightly glowing tal which tended to send up sparks when it touched the ground.
The carriage pulled up to a stop right alongside them, and the driver tugged the brim of his wide hat, which was too broad to comfortably lift, and gave them a thin smile.
“Morning, kids,” Vidius said pleasantly. “Interest you in a lift?”
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