nearly two weeks, working with Krathas, waiting for this day. She had rehearsed her eventual meeting with Gaven in her mind so many times, but it was different each time-she had no idea how he would respond to her, what he might say to explain his behavior, whether he would forgive her for hers. And in her mind, it had always been the two of them, trying to pick up where they left off all those years ago. She’d been so naive.
“Here it is, right where I left it.”
It was his voice, just outside the door. Her mouth went dry.
“Looks like it hasn’t been painted in thirty years.” A woman’s voice.
Rienne drew a deep breath through her nostrils and let it out slowly through pursed lips. Then the door swung open.
In her mind, this encounter had always started the same. She was cool, a little distant, aloof. Her voice low, she said, “Hello, Gaven,” and he was thunderstruck, surprised. She began with the upper hand. The reality was drastically different.
He stood framed in the doorway, so beautiful to her eyes. She was overwhelmed with a rush of the love she’d felt so strongly, so long ago, and had worked so hard to suppress these last decades. Then came a wave of remorse-this was what she had done to him. The weight of twenty-six years in Dreadhold was clearly visible on his face and in his posture. His hair was long and unkempt, and his face looked haggard. Then she saw his dragonmark, and she gasped.
“Rienne.” His voice was flat, betraying no surprise or emotion.
The woman stepped into view behind him, peering over his shoulder into the office. She was an elf, pretty in a fey sort of way, with eyes too big for her face and stained with blue makeup. Her lips were full and also painted, the bright red of a streetwalker, and she wore heeled boots and a chest-hugging coat to match. Rienne scowled.
“Rienne?” the woman said. “So she is in Vathirond after all. What a nice surprise!” The red lips twisted into a sardonic smile as she looked at Gaven.
This was nothing like Rienne had imagined.
“Where’s Krathas?” Gaven said.
Rienne stood. “‘Where’s Krathas?’ Hm. It’s good to see you, too.”
Gaven stepped into the room. “I’m s-no, I’m not sorry. What do you expect me to say?” His voice and his face came alive with anger. “The usual pleasantries don’t seem to fit. The last time I saw you, a pack of Sentinel Marshals were dragging me out of the room. You put on quite a show of grief, as I recall. No, Rienne, it’s not good to see you. I didn’t come here to see you, I came to find Krathas. Where is he?” Without waiting for an answer, he stepped into the room and started peering into the shelves that lined the walls.
“Well said, Gaven,” the streetwalker chimed in.
Rienne put her hand on Maelstrom’s hilt and stepped around the desk to face the woman. “Would you leave us? We have a lot to talk about.”
The red lips pouted, but the mocking smirk lingered at their corners. “And miss all the fun?”
Rienne noticed the woman’s hand settling on the hilt of her own sword, which she hadn’t seen before. Perhaps she wasn’t a streetwalker after all.
“We haven’t been introduced,” Rienne said. “I am Rienne ir’Alastra.”
“Yes, I know. The one Gaven was to marry. I gather it ended badly.”
“And your name?”
“Senya Alvena Arrathinen.” Rienne heard the first hint of an elvish lilt in her voice.
Gaven began looking around the desk.
“Pleased to meet you, Senya,” Rienne said.
“Remember what Gaven said about the usual pleasantries?” Senya smiled and blinked her too-long eyelashes at Rienne before dropping the smile and stepping past her into the room. “What are we looking for, Gaven?”
“An adamantine box, about the size of a small book, but thicker. Maybe two small books.”
Rienne felt a surge of fury replace the love and guilt she had felt on first seeing him. “You will not ignore me, Gaven.”
He glanced at her, then bent to open a desk drawer. “I’m not ignoring you, Rienne. I just have nothing to say to you.”
“Well, I have some things to say to you.”
“Go ahead.” He slammed the first drawer shut and slid another one open.
“Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?” she said.
He glanced up at her again, then back down. “No.”
“I think I do. I loved you once, Gaven, and you made me believe you loved me.”
He straightened and folded his arms. His mouth was a thin line as his eyes bored into her. “Funny way of showing your love,” he said, “turning me over to House Deneith.”
“I had to! You were out of control!”
Rienne heard the window behind her shake in its pane as Gaven bent to the desk again. “You had to,” he said with a snort.
“Gaven, please talk to me.” Rienne had lost any shred of control she might have had over the situation, and she resigned herself to pleading with him. “I need to understand what happened-and what’s happening now. What is going on?”
Gaven stood again and looked at her. She saw something in his eyes-pity, maybe, or compassion-and thought for the first time that all might not be lost.
“A great deal has happened, Rienne. I… I do regret your part in it.”
Rienne felt her face flush as tears sprang to her eyes. “I do as well.”
He held her gaze for a moment, then pushed past her to search the drawers on the other side of the desk. “So I think it would be best if you don’t have any part in what’s happening now,” he said. Rienne felt the breath squeezed out of her chest. “You should go.”
He was so close, she could just reach out and rest a hand on his back. For a moment she thought that if she did, her touch would bring everything back to normal, would bring him back to her. Just as she began reaching for him, the elf woman interrupted.
“Didn’t you hear him?” Senya said. “You should go.” Her hand was back on the hilt of her sword.
Rienne walked around the desk and stopped in the doorway. She turned back to Gaven and produced a thick box from beneath her outer cloak. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
Gaven leaped around the desk and snatched the heavy metal box from her. “Krathas gave it to you? Or did you steal it from him?”
“Steal it?” Blood pulsed at her temples as fury surged in her heart again. “I have done things I regret, Gaven-a great many things. But I have not stooped to theft. Or murder.”
“Murder?” Gaven barely glanced up from the box, which seemed to consume his attention. She wondered again what was inside. What was so important to him that he asked Krathas to keep it safe?
Her throat was tight, and she blinked back a fresh wave of tears. It was too much to bear. “Goodbye, Gaven.” She kept her pace tightly under control as she strode out of the room and down the hall, without a backward glance. Only then did she break into a run. She ran down the stairs, out of the building, and into the street, and a shadow detached itself from an alley to follow her. She pulled Maelstrom from its sheath and turned to face this new attacker. The poor fool would bear the brunt of her fury.
“Lady Alastra!” His voice brought her up short, and she lowered Maelstrom’s point. A dwarf hurried up to her, dressed for the neighborhood except for a signet ring that gleamed in the starlight. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Rienne answered. “Who are you?”
“A friend,” the man said, but his tone was not convincing. “Gaven in there?”
Rienne’s eyes darted back to the building that held Krathas’s office, and that was apparently the only answer the dwarf needed. He turned and ran back the way he’d come.
CHAPTER 23
