Page 81

The sun peaked in the sky, and they were still waiting. The morning was fine as they completed their walk through the woods as planned. Lilith woke radiating pleasant, although muted yellows, so neither found a reason to snipe at each other, even if it was from simply not speaking.

But now his irritation bubbled. Jarek didn’t like to be kept waiting, nor did he like relying on someone else to do what he could, and unfortunately, he was now grinding his teeth through both. Lilith and the boy minded little, not that either knew what the long wait was for. They didn’t ask, taking off down into the field once they realized it would be a while. Jarek sat at the base of a tree, rocking a crossed knee impatiently.

At the forefront, where the fuck was Croll? The little Coffer Keeper was devoted, but reliable? That title was falling off quickly.

Jarek pried his glare away from the trail northward to Berkton, a small village a few days trip from the much larger town of Markoth, to Lilith and Luka in the grass. They were kneeling over a short ridge, and he assumed she was showing him how to use her gun with the way she was holding it.

Luka’s history was barely even that. Up until Lilith stole him, no one knew of his existence. It seemed impossible with Brialis’ age. Kyer made futile attempts explaining the complicated details around the medical advancements made in that time, but Jarek was still grasping the concept of the Coffers, and he was there for that invention.

All that aside, why did she decide to reproduce now? And with whom?

Lilith cupped a hand around the boy’s ear, and whatever she said brought him to laughter. His joy was as golden as the Guardian whenever she spoke to him, and watching him smile brightened her own colors. Jarek’s heated blood cooled as he relaxed under the impossibility of their unity.

He turned his attention back to the intersecting trail. Finally, across the field, coming from the cramped corners of the village along the path they’d been following, were four horses and Croll leading them. Jarek manifested within Lilith and the boy’s shadows, giving them both a scare and direction.

“Apologies in advance for my associate’s behavior,” he said. Lilith’s brows creased as he spoke. “He’s not as open minded as I am.”

Halfway to Dalhurst, Jarek couldn’t stop thinking about the poor soul who had dutifully watched him sleep for the majority of his life. But Croll had heeded Draven’s warning about staying in the Coffers. After Jarek made it to the small town, he was surprised to find Croll stepping into the same inn he officially met Kyer in.

When all the dust settled, Croll was a good man. Not only was he loyal to Jarek, he and Kyer found his knowledge on the inner workings of the empire invaluable.

Jarek appeared at the man’s side, quickly scooping up the leads of the two horses he spooked. “Good to see you, Croll.”

Croll’s lips drooped into a frown. Jarek noticed the color and swelling around his eye. Still, the man gave a slight bow of his head, remembering to keep it minimal. “I apologize for the delay, sir. The clan Kyer spoke of was as untrustworthy as he thought it’d be. They took the payment in full but skimped us on some of the supplies.”

Bastards. They weren’t so bold as to disrespect Kyer to his face, but would easily take advantage of someone under him, like Croll.

Jarek stroked the muzzle of the horse closest to him. “What did they keep?”

“Herbs and—”

A small, boyish voice shrieked over Croll. “Are those horses?”

Croll’s jaw went slack. Jarek sighed and grabbed the back of his collar so he didn’t succumb to his weak knees completely. Luka pushed his way between them. Croll stepped aside in awe, and Jarek did the same with repulsion.

Croll pressed a palm to his chest and fell to his knees without Jarek’s assistance keeping him standing, murmuring prayers in Retian under his breath. Luka outstretched a hand that all of the horses followed.

“Praise be to the sun.” Croll bowed as low as he did for Draven in the Coffers, though Luka noticed none of it.

“Yes, yes,” Jarek mused with an eye roll. “Can we—”

“It is an honor.”

Luka turned to Croll, wide-eyed, and—in a way that surprised Jarek but shouldn’t have—spoke clear, concise Retian. “I’ve never seen so many horses in one place! Are they all yours?”

Croll flicked a glance to Jarek. “Am I allowed to speak with the child?”

“Well”—he rubbed the back of his neck, resisting the urge to look at Lilith—“so long as he speaks to you first.”

Croll beamed, a sad sight with the welt covering the left side of his face, then turned to the boy, kneeling down. “They do not belong to me, but I’m caring for them for the time being.”

“Will I get to ride one?”

“Of course. Anything you wish.”

Jarek snuck away while Croll doted on the boy, checking each saddlebag tied over the side of the horses for the materials earned, promised, or stolen inside. Blankets, rations, clothing, and then the more coveted: knives and medicine, which of course was what they were short on.

“Luka!”