"Word of warning—Fiona is a good friend to have, fierce and loyal, until you do something she disapproves of. Then she cuts you off without a word. Forgiveness isn’t in her nature," Hanna instructed, her attention sliding slyly to where Fiona had gone still.
The first woman sighed. "You two never change." To Eva, she said, "Come on. This happens every time they cross each other's path. Next, they'll want to settle their differences with blade or fist. Best to give them room until they work it out of their system."
"Ever the peacemaker, Laurell," Hanna murmured.
"Someone has to be, with you two going at each other’s throats for something that is almost a decade past," Laurell said grumpily as she moved away. She lifted a hand and waved it over her shoulder. "When you're done being idiots, come find us."
Eva followed, thinking Laurell had the right of it. Better to let the two work out whatever differences they had without getting in the way. Whatever problems they had were nothing to do with her. She didn't plan to get tangled up in them.
Eva had only walked a few steps when there was the clash of blades. "Are they going to be alright?"
"They'll be fine. They both just like fighting."
Like stallions battling for dominance, Eva supposed. She hadn't realized there were humans who did the same.
"Is that the best you've got?" Fiona growled. "You're slipping, Hanna. Time in Darius's service has made you soft."
There was the screech of metal on metal and then Hanna's exultant laugh.
"What was that about me being soft?"
After that, Eva and Laurell moved out of hearing range.
"You're rather quiet," Laurell observed.
"Is that a bad thing?" Eva asked.
Laurell thought about it for a moment. "No, it's rather refreshing. Most throwaways tend to chatter."
"I'm not most throwaways." And she could argue that Trateri tended to chatter as well. At least the ones who came to her for their horses did.
Laurell slid a glance Eva's way, her expression thoughtful. "No, I suppose you're not."
They came to a small spring bubbling up from the ground. Near it were several meandering pools of teal blue water surrounded by white calcification—the likes of which Eva had never seen before.
There was a strange odor in the air and she could see steam wafting off the water. Stone and rock lined the pool as a thin stream dribbled down the side to fill another pool below it.
"How is this hot?" Eva asked as Laurell stopped and began disrobing.
"Something beneath the earth heats the water," Laurell explained. "At least that’s what the pathfinder said. I didn't really understand most of it, but he seemed to think it should be safe enough as long as we don't linger too long."
Eva gave her a wide-eyed look. "You're going to trust your life to such a thin endorsement?"
Laurell shrugged. "It's as good a reason as any."
Eva didn't comment even as internally she scoffed. That sounded like a good way to die to her.
"What are you two waiting on?" Fiona asked as she stumbled into view. The warrior was disheveled, her hair coming out of its binding to tangle loosely around her face. One eye had evidence of a bruise under it, but her expression was fierce and satisfied.
Hanna appeared behind her, equally disheveled. Her lip was split, but somehow that only enhanced her beauty, making her look like a delicate waif. She had dirt on her face and clothes, but other than that you wouldn't have been able to tell she'd just been in a fight. Her expression was curious and placid, no hint of the feral happiness present on Fiona's.
Eva didn't know what to make of the two.
"The throwaway is scared," Laurell explained.
Fiona cast a glance at Eva, her eyebrows climbing. "Really? I'd pegged you as being braver."
"First, I'm a tagalong; not a throwaway." They might as well use the correct term if they were going to be insulting. "Second, it isn't wrong to be cautious when I don't understand something. I'm exactly as brave as I need to be."
