He’d claimed a large table all to himself in front of the main room’s best view of the harbor. The location didn’t surprise her, given his penchant for luxury in all things. That he was likewise solo was unusual, for she’d have expected him to be holding court over the less-seasoned men who’d signed on with the Guard. Or perhaps having breakfast with the mayor at his manor on the opposite side of town.
As she approached, Calya noticed the papers Brint had flared out around his plate. He frowned down at them, a pencil in hand as he struck a line through several words before scribbling a note of his own, his wandering scrawl in stark contrast to the cramped, slanted letters of the original writing. “Higher than last time,” he muttered to himself.
Calya slowed her footsteps, but too late. As if sensing her interest, Brint looked up, his hands reflexively scooping the papers together. His guarded expression didn’t soften upon recognizing her but rather slid from suspicion to annoyance. Surly, like an overgrown man-child dead set on holding a grudge.
“Calya,” he said, clearing away his papers before she could get a proper look.
“Brint.” Assuming a nonchalant manner, she drew out a chair and settled in it sideways, ready to pop up the moment he became absolutely unbearable. “You asked me to find you.”
“I meant last night.”
“You said later.” Calya lifted her chin toward the papers he’d stowed in his bag. “Work?”
“Nothing important.” An easy smile bloomed across his face, his tone going treacly, cajoling, as he leaned toward her to say, “About yesterday—why don’t you come with me and my boys to visit our north site? I’ll show you around, see if we can figure out the reporting mix up.”
Calya matched his meaningless smile. “I’d appreciate that. Tomorrow, perhaps? As I told Mayor Krowe, I have several items of business to discuss with the dockmaster. HNE’s logs are paramount to our reputation, so I intend to crosscheck the copies that should be on record here. I’ve some tasks from Wembly, too, so I’m afraid I’m rather busy for today.”
“Oh, I… Yes. I’m sure Dockmaster Gormund will get you all settled.” Brint’s smile never wavered, but the strain at the corners of his eyes and the tension in his brow told Calya everything she needed to know. When she visited the dockmaster’s registrar, doubtless they’d have copies of Helm Naval’s last three months of logs already waiting.
A new person entered the main room: Lowe. He paused, searching the room. When he saw Calya, his neutral expression hardly flickered. He gestured toward a table at the farthest corner of the room, away from Brint.
Calya waved, shooing him on. “In a moment,” she called out.
Brint glowered at Lowe’s back, then turned his reproachful gaze on Calya. “So. You’re fucking him now?”
She tsked as she sipped her tea. “So what if I am?”
“You should be more careful, Caly. He’s using you. A Sentinel of the Valley? They don’t care about anything to do with Graelynd.”
“Mutually beneficial usage. Is it really so different than what you would’ve done?”
Brint’s acting was improving; he managed to appear semi-convincing with his affronted look. “I would not. We have business together. I mean, really, since we’re both here, we could look at revisiting the partnership on that joint protection?—”
“I already have a partner for my business here in the Landing,” Calya said. “And considering how our last agreement worked out, I’m not exactly eager to revisit anything with you.”
Brint laughed, loud and false and with an excess of effort to sound unoffended. “I suppose I deserved that.”
Calya took another sip of tea.
“Can’t believe you went with him, though,” he grumbled, his performance short-lived. “Gods all break, Caly, he’s old. I thought you had standards. You’re more like a baby sister than?—”
“And yet I basically was yours, for years.” Calya stood up. “That didn’t stop you earlier.”
She sauntered away to join Lowe at his table.
“What was that about?” Lowe poured her more tea, setting Ollas’s map next to her cup. “They gave it to us, since the others already know where they’re going.”
“I’ve gotten rid of him for the day.” Calya nodded at the map. “The northern site is a bust. Shall we explore this one after he leaves?” She tapped a different spot toward the base of some scrawled river’s edge mtns.
Lowe gave her a dubious look. “It’s a bit of a hike.”
“I brought my walking boots.”
The great outdoors was being added to the list of Calya’s enemies. Her boots were perfectly suited to walking along the trail to the western research site. Her feet, however, not so much. The uneven streets of Grae Port were nothing compared to the rock-and-root-laden path they traversed now.
After Lowe had outpaced her for the umpteenth time, he dropped behind her on the trail.
“Haven’t we been out here long enough for you to surmise that I don’t have a fucking clue where I’m going?” Calya snapped, blotting sweat from her forehead. She’d been chilled when they first set out on their adventure, but after what felt like half a day spent bushwhacking, the wintry air was all too warm.
