“I said what I said,” she continued. “But in this, our business interests align.”
Lowe shook his head. “And you’ll work with me up until they don’t anymore, at which point you’ll act in whatever way serves you and your company, isn’t that right?”
“My duty is to HNE first, that’s true.” She ignored his wry smile. “But HNE isn’t in the habit of treating its partners poorly.”
“How good of you.”
“It’s good business practice.” Calya spread her hands before her. “A gesture of goodwill. A shipment of the wards my sister makes were supposedly requested and supposedly delivered here. But the man who requested the shipment has conveniently up and quit the entire field of study. When I spoke of my intention to question the dockmaster, Mayor Krowe tried to intervene.”
He nodded at her to continue.
“There should still be records of goods received at the port, especially in one this small.”
“Maybe,” Lowe said cautiously.
“And Brint. His old project out here that he fucked up is supposed to be under new direction. How is he allowed to just, just be here and those mages are okay with it?” Calya gestured emphatically, hands cutting through the air. “Something, many somethings, are wrong here!”
Lowe stopped again, frustration writ large across his face. “What do you want me to say, Calya?”
“Work with me to fix it,” she said at once. “I’m not asking you to forsake your duty to the Sentinels, but our reasons for being here, there’s a connection.”
Lowe continued to stare at her, his frown solidly in place.
“You’re scowling,” she said.
“My face has a tendency to do that when it comes to you.”
She lifted her shoulders in a dainty shrug. “I do have that effect on people.”
He ducked his head, one hand coming up to press against his jaw. Not quick enough to hide his smile.
A gust of wind set the edges of their cloaks flapping, and a lock of hair was blown across Lowe’s face. A crackle of golden sparks swirled between them before fading.
Their eyes met.
“Tell me,” Calya murmured, fingers waving gently through the air, “what does the wind say?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in auguries,” he said.
“I’ll make an exception.”
He sighed.
“Why are you so opposed to working together?” she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. “We both benefit.”
“The wind is… It’s not the future. It’s possibilities. Keep asking after the same thing, keep chasing one path out of many, it influences the outcome.”
“Risks your bias,” she said quietly.
He nodded once.
“Your wind, does it keep telling you about…” Us? But she couldn’t ask about that. Wouldn’t let herself start to care about what his answer might be. “This?” she whispered.
“Like you said, something is wrong here. A lot of connections.” There was something pained in his smile. “I don’t like to use my magic this way. Calling on the wind so much for the same thing. It’s… It doesn’t go well.” He cleared his throat, any hint of vulnerability banished. “There’s enough going wrong here as it is, don’t you agree?”
Calya considered his words. His reticence. His… fear? No, wariness. Caution, well-justified. She wondered what had happened to make him so guarded. Wondered if she could coax the answers from him.
But that was too much like sentiment. Like asking for trust. Which he would never give without asking the same from her in turn. And that, she could never do, even if nascent threads of temptation were beginning to form.
