“Sheld. Would you have helped him?”
“I’m trying to think how,” Saeldian said. Their voice croaked. “I would have tried. But I left a note.”
“A note.”
“I did what I could.”
“What did the note say?”
Saeldian would never forget. “Sorry. I left it all for you. I know it’s not enough. I wish I could explain. Please be happy, S.”
“That’s it?”
Jubilee had to be thinking about whether Saeldian would do that to her. Saeldian would be, if their positions were reversed. “I had to go,” Saeldian repeated.
“What? Immediately? In secret? Why?”
Thorns sprouted in Saeldian’s throat again.
“Right.Thesecret,” Jubilee said. “Your pact.”
Saeldian couldn’t even nod to verify that Jubilee was right.
Everything in Saeldian’s life depended on their pact. Ever since the day they found the most beautiful elf they’d ever seen…even with torn robes and burrs caught in his hair, he was everything elf beauty was supposed to be, unlike Saeldian, who was runty and weak and unbearable to look at. But the elf was something more than a woodland wanderer, and he had offered Saeldian power if they gave up just one thing—and stayed silent about it forever.
It had been a bargain.
“So you left your—partner?”
The street lined with handsome, discreet shops gave way to the high walls and pointy gates of noble villas. Fragrant flowers in gardens Saeldian couldn’t see scented the air and made it sweet. “Not partner like that. Partner in crime, best friend. Yes.”
“I’m your best friend,” Jubilee said. “And your partner in—well, retrieval services.”
Saeldian nodded. Osalor had wanted something that was worthless. They agreed. The deal was struck. And Saeldian was safe and would be safe forever.
“And if your pact—whatever that is—told you to bug out on me, you’d…do it.”
There it was. “The reason why I had to leave Kell won’t happen to us.”
“By your bond?”
“By my bond,” Saeldian said. “I made a mistake. I know what happened and how, and that’s not happening again.”
There were still mistakes to be made, but not that one. Saeldian patted Jubilee’s arm. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. It’s on me. I got in my head. He got in my head, with that little speech of his. But he’s wrong. It’s not the two of usagainst the world. It’s never been like that. We—” Jubilee stared down the street, frowning. “Is that—that’s Verity.”
Jubilee took off at a sprint toward the terrified howling of Jubilee’s littlest sister. Saeldian let out a relieved sigh before running hard after her.
“Hey!” Kell shouted.
“There’s trouble!” Saeldian shouted back.
Four people running down this street would catch attention, until onlookers saw a tiefling leading the other three to the open gates to Righthoof Manor. One day, they’d be fixed so they closed properly. Saeldian lengthened their stride over the potholes in the lane to the main house and hopped over the still-broken knee-high gate into the orchard. They narrowly sidestepped an abandoned bough hook and skidded to a halt beside Verity, who had cried so hard her face was wet with tears and—well.
Saeldian flourished a fresh handkerchief and squatted beside her, starting at the child’s leaky eyes and wiping downward.
“Blow,” Saeldian commanded, and folded the expensive cotton square carefully as they looked up.
