When they entered Fiskar’s market, Belesia stopped at a stall where a man with a twenty-pound tumor in his neck sold mushrooms. Belesia haggled with the man for a bit, clucking disapprovingly at the price, then finally handed him a few coins and clutched the bag under her arm and left.

Talis jogged up and Belesia turned her head, as if knowing he was there. “I’m surprised you didn’t follow me sooner.”

“I tried to respect the wishes of House Lei.” He didn’t want to get in more trouble than he already was.

“People say things they don’t mean when they are angry.” Belesia took his hands, her skin felt warm and leathery. “Your friend is close to recovery.”

“She is?” Talis couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face, and he felt the tension go out of his shoulders, as if he’d released a heavy pack. “And is Lady Malvia still upset at me?”

Belesia rubbed her hands together. “Time heals foolish actions…and your father knows the right words to sooth Lady Malvia’s fire. You may not know it, but they were once close friends like you and Mara. That is until Lady Malvia decided to marry your father’s old enemy, Viceroy Lei.”

Father and Lady Malvia? “I didn’t know…Father talks little of the past…save for talk of Xhan.”

With that, Belesia came close and placed a hand on Talis’s cheek. “The living sometimes suffer more than the dead. Give your father tenderness. His heart still bleeds.”

She turned and sauntered away, her words still lingering in his heart, and Talis pictured Father after news of Xhan’s death had reached him. He had suffered and Talis realized he hadn’t been there to comfort Father when he needed it. Maybe there was more he could do.

A laughing couple tramped by, the girl bumping into Talis. She bowed her head in apology and giggled as they strode off. Talis glanced around at the merchant stalls, thinking of Mara again, and decided he should find a gift for her. The air in Fiskar’s Market smelled of roasted venison, pork, chicken, and sweet pies from the baker’s oven. He sauntered around, scanning the vendors hawking their goods: sacred charms, shrunken heads, colorful jewelry studded with precious stones, Orbs of the Sun and Eyes of Death, and prayer beads sold by gold-toothed monks. Fiskar was long dead, but the name stuck. He was smart enough to set up business and sell in front of Shade’s Gate and next to the Temple of Nyx, the God of War.

Talis discovered a merchant who claimed to have recently purchased amber feathers with white flecks, plucked from a rare bird found along the Southern coast of Galhedrin. Mara was crazy about collecting feathers and would adorn her hunting hats with them. So he bought a particularly beautiful feather for her using money saved from pelts he’d sold from hunting in the swamplands.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Nikulo, a boy he knew from the Order of the Dawn, where they both studied magic. Nikulo studied the healing arts, and Talis studied elemental magic, although his success was limited to magic done in training dreams. He’d never managed to produce magic like the other apprentices and felt very frustrated at his many failed attempts.

Nikulo was off in the back corner of the market buying something from a merchant Talis was sure sold poison and other black arts supplies. As if afraid he’d be seen, Nikulo glanced around several times, and marched down near the stall where Talis stood.

Talis tried to hide behind a bunch of feathers, but Nikulo stopped, and glared at him.

“Cowering already? You know you don’t have a chance winning the Blood Dagger.”

The Blood Dagger competition. Talis thought of the sparring competition held once a year, and froze, realizing he’d forgotten all about it. Wasn’t it only a few days away? With Mara injured, they’d moved the date, but Talis knew that House Lei and House Storm would never allow Talis and Mara to forfeit to the likes of Nikulo and Rikar, his sparring partner. Claiming rights to holding the Blood Dagger for a year meant far too much to the royal houses, especially since their Royal Houses had lost claim to the victor’s rights over the last few years.

Nikulo’s coffee-brown eyes sparkled as if he was eager to tell a new joke. He waddled close to Talis, holding a porcelain jar in one hand, and he yanked up silk pants that kept falling below his protruding belly. He scratched his curly hair and released a smoky fart, blowing the fumes in Talis’s direction. Talis coughed, retreating quickly. Nikulo never should have swallowed that last potion he concocted. All his farts smelled like sulfur and mustard and spoiled onions.

“Thanks for that, just what I needed.” Talis rubbed his stinging eyes. “What are you doing slumming in Fiskar’s Market? Finding more disgusting ingredients for your potions?”

Nikulo moved the jar away from Talis. “No…nothing of the sort.” He frowned, pursing his lips. “Why are you holding a feather?”

“It’s for Mara. Why are you hiding that jar?”

“Oh this?” Nikulo glanced around at the jar he was holding. “Just ingredients.” He fidgeted, constantly glancing towards Shade’s Gate, the way to the upper part of the city where Nikulo lived.

“Ingredients? What for? Weren’t you at the poison merchant?”

“Poison?” Nikulo coughed out a laugh. “Why would I want anything to do with poison. You know it’s not allowed for students of the Order.” Nikulo narrowed his eyes, studying him, as if trying to decide if he could trust him or not. “When is Mara supposed to get better? Rikar and me are getting tired of waiting to fight you guys. If you don’t compete soon, the Blood Dagger will be ours.”

“You know that’s not going to happen. You’ll taste our blades soon enough. Are you so anxious to have your blood spilled? Mara will be better quite soon, just you see.”

Nikulo chuckled. “You’re lucky that House Lei hasn’t sent an assassin after you.”

Talis waved him away, as if the idea was ridiculous. “I’ve got to go. Be careful with that poison… Another failed alchemy experiment and you’re likely to kill someone.” But then maybe that was Nikulo’s idea, poison merchant after all…

The next morning Talis awoke to spindly shadows dancing across his blanket as the wind knocked the shutters back and forth. He hated waking this way. His cat, the yellow and white Tobias, pounced on his bed, tail jerking crazily, staring above at the amber feather flipping in the breeze.

Talis had mounted the feather on a strand of leather tied to a wood beam that spanned across the ceiling. But the cat leapt anyways, trying to swat the feather, but missed it by a few inches.

“You little devil.” Talis tried to scoop up Tobias, but the cat darted about the room as if possessed by a ghost. “You can’t have Mara’s feather, it’s not your toy to play with… I’ll get you a duck feather or something. Come on now.”

The shutters slammed suddenly opened and Talis spun around. Mara was perched on the windowsill, grinning viciously at him.

“Miss me?” She jumped inside and dove into his bed, wriggling under the covers. Her hands were uncomfortably near his pants. Tobias immediately pounced on the bed, leaping high into the air every time Mara moved. The cat meowed, a complaining meow, and Tobias stared, as if trying to figure out what was going on.

“You’re all better!” Talis sighed, relieved to see her healthy and so active.

“Way to state the obvious. No”-she coughed and clenched her stomach, falling back to the bed-“I’m about to keel over and die.” She laughed maniacally and pulled the blanket over her head.

“Be serious, I thought you really might die. We were all so worried! I prayed so many times to Tolexia…”

“You can’t kill a cat that easily. Though you sure did try!”

“Me?”

“Just kidding!” She stretched her arms wide. “Somebody is so in love with me. I bet you couldn’t stop thinking about me, right?” She looked up at the feather. “Is that for me?”

Talis nodded, then jumped up to grab the feather.

Mara squealed when he handed it to her. “It’s gorgeous! I bet it cost a small fortune… It’ll look great in my green hunting cap. I can’t wait to wear it.”

He smiled, and braced himself as she flung herself onto him, giving him an enormous suffocating hug. From the look on her face, it was worth every silver piece getting her the feather.

She motioned towards the window. “Why aren’t you offering to take me to breakfast? Can’t you see I’m hungry?”

“I’m so glad to see you… Whatever you want, it’s my treat, thank the gods you’re all better.”

“Well, if you want to know, I’m craving dumpling soup from Fiskar’s Market. Hurry up, already.” She pulled her cloak over her head and jumped out the window.

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