Zhaojia and Mag both looked at Albern like he was sun-touched. But Zhaojia took the purse, opened it, counted the contents, and closed it up again.
“Very well,” she said gruffly. “May you find better fortune here than I did. But then again, with her crafting your drink ….” She tossed her head at Mag. “Well, I wish you good fortune, in any case. And I am off.”
She strode out the door, and Albern went to close it behind her. The whole time, Sun could not stop staring at Mag. Once the door was closed and they were alone again, she finally tore her gaze away to look at Albern.
“What in the dark below—”
“Now, calm down,” said Albern.
Mag, meanwhile, stood with her arms folded. At Sun’s outburst, she arched a brow. “And who exactly is this?” she asked Albern.
“Chao,” said Albern, “this is Sun of the family Valgun.”
“Valgun?” said Mag. “That is a name of Dulmish nobility. What are you doing purchasing a tavern halfway across the world?”
Sun barely glanced at her, but kept her gaze locked on Albern, awaiting his answer. Albern gave Mag a weak smile.
“Though both of your manners seem to have fled, let me assure each of you that the other is pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Albern, what is going on?” said Sun, very nearly in a shriek.
Mag frowned at Albern. “I thought your name was Kanohari.”
Sun waved a hand. “Of course, you are using your fake names. Kanohari, I need answers.”
Albern’s expression grew troubled. “Sun—”
Now Mag was looking stern. “A fake name? Why would you give me a fake name? If you are not Kanohari, then who are you?”
That froze Sun in place. Albern shook his head slowly.
“Chao,” he said, “if you would give me a moment to speak with our new partner?”
Mag folded her arms. “I suppose,” she said. “But make it quick. And you had better have a good explanation when you return. I do not take well to being swindled.”
“Well do I know it,” muttered Albern as he came and gently took Sun’s arm. “Out back, if you do not mind.”
“What in the dark below is going on?” hissed Sun as she allowed him to pull her out into the alley behind the tavern.
“A great many things,” said Albern. He made sure the door shut behind them, and then he listened at it as if making sure Mag had not followed them. “But here is what you must know. Her name is Chao, so far as she, or you, or anyone else is concerned. And she knows me as Kanohari. Though I suppose I shall have to tell her my true name is Albern, now that you have said it, and it has not seemed to harm her.”
Sun glanced at the door. “She does not know your real name?”
“She does not,” said Albern. The sadness in his eyes was one she had seen often, every time he had spoken of Mag’s darkest moments in the story.
“But why?” said Sun, shaking her head.
“There is a long tale behind it—” Albern began.
“You cannot mean to make me wait—”
He held up a hand. “Stop, and listen to me. There is a long tale behind it, which I shall tell you in full. But I will give you a short answer now because you deserve it, and you will need it. And it will help you help me, in the way we must treat her now. You know something, at least, of the end of Mag’s story.”
“I thought I did,” said Sun. “Though now it seems it was not the end at all.”
“But it was,” said Albern, and he had never sounded more earnest. “Something terrible happened, more terrible than any tale could convey, though I will try. And when it did … that was the end of Mag’s story. She lost who she had been, the person I met in my youth, who I followed from mercenary company to mercenary company, and through the Necromancer’s War. I was with her when it happened, and I have been with her ever since, helping her as much as I know how.”
“So she forgot you,” said Sun slowly, piecing it together. “Just as she forgot Nikau and Orla because Kaita killed her. She remembers nothing at all now, because when she died … really died … it was bad enough that she forgot everything. Like in the woods near Shuiniu.”
“Yes,” said Albern.
“And that is why you told me this tale,” said Sun. “So I would understand when I met her.”
“It is one reason.”
A horrible thought struck Sun. When she voiced it, she could not speak above a whisper.
“Does she remember Sten?”
Albern did not answer, but his eyes filled with tears. And Sun’s own tears fell freely down her cheeks, and she tried vigorously to scrub them away.
“We have to tell her,” she said. “You should have told her already!”
“Do you think I did not try?” said Albern. “Please, Sun. I have been with her for a long while since … since it happened. I have thought of nearly everything you could think of, and I have tried it. You must trust me in this. If I say you must not speak of something, or you must treat her a certain way, I beg you to believe me. When I have tried to tell her of her past life, it has caused her great harm. She becomes a wreck for days, and when the spell passes, she forgets it all anyway. Please, Sun.”
Sun could hardly understand him. All she wanted to do was run inside and tell Mag everything that had happened in Albern’s stories. But she mastered herself. And finally, she nodded.
“Very well. I believe you.”
“Thank you,” said Albern gently. “Now, let us return inside before she takes it into her head to come out here and trounce us both.”
“So she can still fight?” said Sun.
“Like you would not believe,” grumbled Albern, and he led her back in.
Mag—Chao—was waiting for them in the tavern’s common
