eyes bound in a face like that of a wrathful nymph. The woman wore a uniform, but Myrin did not know what sort. Little about this world seemed familiar to her thus far.
'Rayse!' Cellica said. 'What a surprise! Won't you come'-the dark-haired woman swept into the chamber past the halfling-'in?'
'Well-' Araezra pulled up short and stared. 'Well met?'
After an awkward breath, Myrin realized she was talking to her. 'Oh… well met.'
Araezra looked confused. 'I'm sorry-have we met? I don't know you.'
'Uh-I'm… I'm Myrin.' Her fingers curled and her heart thudded. Why did they all have to be so perfect''. 'I'm… uh…'
Her brow furrowing, Araezra looked to Cellica.
'You probably want Kalen,' the halfling said. 'He's… ah-'
'It's very important,' Araezra said. 'He was supposed to report for duty this morn, and I haven't seen him.' She glared toward Myrin, whose cheeks felt like they might burst into flame. She picked at her blue hair and wished it weren'r so straggly.
Myrin wondered if Kalen wasn't some kind of nobleman, or rich merchant, or perhaps the lord of a harem, to have this many lasses flocking to his door. She wasn't cerrain where she'd heard that word 'harem' before-it was floating somewhere in the back of her mind. Elusive, like a shard of a dream that danced just on the edge of her awareness.
Like her mother's face. Like all her memories.
'I'll tell him when I see him,' Cellica said. 'He's… he might be with Commander Jarthay. They were bound for the Siren yestereve. Perhaps they're still there?'
Araezra glanced at Myrin, who tried to shrink smaller. She looked back at Cellica. 'You didn't…' she said awkwardly. 'You didn't happen to read the Minstrel this morn?'
Cellica folded her hands behind her back. 'No, absolutely not.'
'Cellica.'
'Well, yes-' The halfling winced. She waved her hands. 'But it's horribly unfair! You aren't like that at all. That's just bloody Satin Rutshear.'
Araezra smiled and sighed. 'My thanks. I–I just have to find Kalen. We need to talk.'
Cellica nodded. 'I'll tell him when I see him.'
The halfling looked at Myrin as though expecting her to say aught, but Myrin had no idea what to say. She couldn't stop staring at Araezra, who was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen-that she could remember, anyway.
Araezra didn't leave. She bit her prerty lip, and Myrin saw her eyes were damp.
Cellica shrugged. 'Berter have a seat, dear. Would you like cider?'
The armored woman nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Kalen stood inside the closet, hands pressed flat against the sides.
Crushed against the inside wall, every inch of her body just a hair's breadth from his bare chest and loose hose, Fayne blinked at him with her gray eyes. She was about the width of a hand shorter, and he could feel her brearh against his bare chest. His lips were level with the bridge of her nose, arid he had the unsettling urge to plant a kiss on her forehead. Something about her made him want to kiss her.
She wore a wry little grin.
'Do not,' he said.
Fayne smiled and edged a little closer to him, pressing her breasts to his chest and her mouth near his ear. 'I wouldn't dream of it.' Her tone wasn't girlish at all, but sharp. He felt, uncomfortably, as though all of this was according ro her plan.
Kalen bit his lip. 'Be still.'
'You think your valabrar will hear?' That word confirmed his suspicions-she'd tricked him and knew full well what Araezra was doing there. All of this was her scheme, including hiding with him. 'Oh, I promise-no one will hear anything we do in here.'
A little tingle ran through Kalen. 'Why would you fear Araezra finding you here?'
'I've made enough women jealous to know the look.'
'Is this a trick?' Kalen asked. 'Who are you?'
'Does that really matter?'
'How do you know…' He bit his lip. 'How do you know who I am?'
'Again, is it meant to be a secret?' Fayne stretched just the tiniest bit, rippling across Kalen's body. Whoever she was, Kalen thought, she knew how to move.
'How did you find me?'
She grinned. 'Did you think yourself hidden?'
'Do you answer every question with a question?'
'Don't you?'
Kalen's voice almost broke. 'Damn it, lass, I-' 'Hold a moment.'
Fayne slid down his chest and belly, startling him. If Kalen hadn't been concentrating on staying quiet, he would have gasped and fallen backward our of the closet.
He heard the rustle of cloth and felt Fayne's head brush his thigh.
'What the Hells?' he snapped. 'Pardon… almost… ah.'
She stretched back up, slowly and languidly, and presented to him a ring of silver, etched with an eye sigil. 'Dropped this. So clumsy.' 'That's mine,' Kalen said.
'Was,' she corrected. 'Or were you going to take it back?' She pressed her hip against his. 'I would love to see you try.'
Kalen tried to ignore the threat-and implicit offer. 'What could be staying them?'
'Lass talk, I imagine.' Fayne shrugged, which made him tingle. 'It lets us be alone.'
Kalen turned his full attention on her. 'Who are you?'
'I told you,' she said. 'Fayne is my name.'
'No, it isn't.'
She put her hands on her hips. 'And why not?' 'Feign? You think me a simpleton?'
'Ha!' she said. 'Very well. My true name,' she said grandly, 'is Feit.'
'Really? Counter-^/r?'
'Damn!' She giggled, a touch of her assumed girlishness coming back.
'Enough.' Kalen glared at her. 'Unveil yourself, girl, or gods help me, I will burst out of this closet and get us both caught.'
Fayne's eyes narrowed. 'You wouldn't dare' she said.
'I have only embarrassment in front of my superior to fear,' Kalen said. 'You, on the other hand-I believe you are a thief and a scoundrel and have considerably more to lose.'
'Well, then.' Fayne dared him with her eyes.
Kalen started to move.
'Wait,' she said, throwing her arms around him and holding him back. 'Mercy. Gods! Don't get so excited.' She held up the ring in the flat of her palm, near her face.
Kalen took it, and while he was distracted, she kissed him again.
He pulled away, thumping his head on the ceiling. Thankfully, Fayne did not follow, just stood there smiling wryly at him.
'Very well, my captor-what would you have of me?' She winked. 'Ware you don't ask too much-this is naught but our second meeting. I usually wait until the third, at least.'
Kalen ignored her and perked his ears-Araezra was still talking, but her voice sounded no nearer than before.
'You call yourself Fayne-very well,' he said. 'Why are you here? What is your game?'
'My game, dearest Vigilant Dren,' Fayne said, 'is a mysrery by its nature. The hints are in the playing.' Still holding him, she pressed her cheek against his chest and purred. 'You must be an active man. Not only does it look passing well, but it feels like a rock.'
'Uh…' The numbness in his body wouldn't let him sense her hands.
