The memory of Brint hunched over those papers at breakfast flashed through her head. She’d seen such penmanship yet again, just that morning, while he mentioned a discrepancy and wrote over the top of someone else’s report. Higher than last time. Something he’d only know if he was receiving figures regularly.
“I need to search Brint’s room.”
“You say you want me and are already talking about getting into another man’s room,” Lowe teased, offering her his arm.
Calya leaned into his support as they began to walk back to town. “No, he’s far too handsome,” she said with a sly smile. “I think I’ve gotten a taste for ranger.”
Chapter Thirteen
With Anadae and Ezzyn traveling to the other site and Eunny and the others still at the neighboring village, Lowe suggested consulting Froley for help. They had a trusted mender on call at the Pelf, and within an hour Calya was, mostly, good as new. An imbued salve would make short work of her scrapes and bruises; by tomorrow morning, they’d be healed over, and after another day or two, nothing but a distant memory.
Her ribs weren’t as easily fixed, the bruising worse than she’d initially thought. A deeper healing was more than the mender Froley employed could do without drawing attention Calya wasn’t willing to risk. As Lowe went off to find her some food, Calya settled for an extra thick bandage and an imbued ointment that managed to stick to—and stain—everything it touched. After extracting a promise to reapply it thrice daily until her bruising faded, the mender left.
“The rooms here aren’t that big, not even the fanciest the inn has. Not by Central standards, anyway. It shouldn’t take too long for me to search?—”
“This is a bad idea,” Lowe said, not for the first time since she’d mentioned it.
“It’s not broken.” Calya wolfed down a cheese-stuffed pastry Lowe had acquired for her. “You’ve never worked through an injury?”
“My job is different, and you know it.”
Calya tapped her side, no sign of tension on her face. “I could wrestle a bear and not feel it through this. I’ll be fine.”
“You should rest.” Lowe stole a piece of biscuit from her plate. “I’ll keep you company.”
A tempting proposition. After a day tromping through the woods, the notion of curling up in bed, with Lowe to wait on her hand and foot, was enough to send a lick of heat through her core. Her stomach tensed, and when the motion caused only a mild twinge of discomfort, Calya’s mind jumped to all the possibilities opened by such a finding. Being on top was a given. After all, they couldn’t have him crushing her delicate ribs. If he wanted her flat on her back, well, didn’t Sentinels need to problem solve on a regular basis? Calya accepted that she would never be one of the more creative types, but she could encourage it in others. Especially if she was the recipient of such ingenuity.
She snatched up the biscuit before he could steal another bite. “That will be our reward.”
“For?” Froley said, suspicion drawing out the word.
Calya met the innkeeper’s unflinching stare. “Are you with us?”
They shrugged. “I’ll help, if I can.”
“Good. I need to expose Brint.”
Lowe pinched the bridge of his nose. “Calya.”
“It’s your turn to distract him.”
“If only I could match your feminine wiles.”
“Appeal to his vanity,” Calya said. “He does so love to feel superior. Doubly so after you swept me out from under him—so to speak—on the ship.”
Lowe wasn’t deterred. “If anyone’s going to be searching his room, it’ll be me.”
“Oh? Because the Sentinels do so much training in breaking and entering?”
“Because one of us is currently injured and has the agility of a brick.”
“I may not be a trained spy, but neither is he.” She looked at Froley. “Do the rooms at the inn have any kind of defensive warding?”
“Just for flooding and fire.”
“Don’t, Calya. Let me handle this part, please.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Calya exclaimed. Noting how several other patrons glanced their way, she lowered her voice. “If, if, it all went to shit, what do you think would happen if he found you there?”
