“I think we should speak of something else today,” Curvorn said.

Raulin stopped brushing his fingers over his shaved head and met his gaze. “What would you like to discuss, master?”

“We’ve spoken at length about why you should stay with Arvarikor, the repercussions of leaving, how to fool your friends, and your plans for the future. I haven’t taken the time to ask you what you want out of this.”

Raulin sat back in the chair slightly. “Master, I was able to survive due to your machinations. My former companions are all alive as well. That is enough for me.”

Curvorn had apparently picked up some miartha expressions in his time outside Merak. He snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, of course you’re pleased to be alive. Aren’t we all? What I’m wondering pertains to what can be done to make you happier with your career. I’m coming to understand through our discussions that one of the reasons why you broke our laws was because you were searching for things you cannot find in your successes. I cannot bend the rules about allies and other kinds of relationships, but perhaps the future with Arvarikor would look brighter if you looked forward to it.”

“I speak the truth when I say I am happy with the order.”

Curvorn frowned and leaned forward. “Kemor, I thought we had an understanding.”

“Yes, master. I suppose that I’ve always wondered why Arvarikor requires us to take a balance of contracts for our docket. I do not question the wisdom of tradition, but in a situation like my own I feel that I do better unbalanced.”

Curvorn waved his hand palm up. “Explain.”

Raulin chose his words carefully. “Since I look like a miartha, I find I exceed in contracts that involve spying. I am able to slip into situations unquestioned. I have plenty of contacts who I’m able to call upon to reintegrate me into society quickly. This is not something a Kachilan trirec can do with ease. They must linger longer on planning, spying from the shadows, because miartha do not trust Merakians. It is difficult for them, but easy for me.”

“You had how many of each?”

“Ten spying contracts, eight thefts, five assassinations, and one open contract.”

“It seems like a healthy, normal balance. Why didn’t you take more espionage contracts?”

“I wished to, but Master Stavro made some decisions for me.”

“Ah, I see. And I am not surprised.”

“I feel that it may be the same in other headquarters.”

“Do you know why we require trirecs to take a balanced docket?”

“I believe so, master,” he said, his back itching from his scars. “It is to keep each trirec honed on all skills, so his ability to do anything will not atrophy.”

“From your point of view that makes sense. From my perspective, however, and all of Arvarikor, we stop an unbalanced docket because we do not want to become dependent upon one person in regards to one kind of job. Imagine what a problem it would be if you were to take twenty-four spying contracts in Gheny, then die during the first one. We would have a crisis on our hands.”

“I see,” Raulin said, hiding his disappointment as well as he could.

“It is the same with even the bigger names in Arvarikor. You’ve heard of Varik Motet, yes?” Raulin nodded. Curvorn had made sure to show him the newly adjusted leader board with his own name at twelfth. Varik was second. “He is a brilliant man, especially when it comes to assassinating heavily protected targets. We still require he take spying and theft contracts, though only a token one in each.”

Raulin furrowed his eyebrows. “A token?”

“Just one. So, his are twenty-two assassinations, one spy, one theft.”

“For some, the eight each is waved?”

“For those in the top ten, I’m sure some exceptions can be made.”

“I’m close, then.”

“Rather close, though I hate to say you will see some setbacks in the next year or two. I think that recent issues will drop you out of the top twenty. But, if you work hard and get your next docket done quickly, perhaps you can take another and make up for it. I dare say that you could be doing what you excel at in two years time.”

Raulin smiled at this. To not kill and steal anymore was a dream. Well, he had to admit that the stealing wasn’t terrible, but the killing had become so detestable that he had a hard time thinking about doing it in the future. Twelve, maybe eleven, more assassinations and he could cut it down to one per year.

“Now, let’s discuss your next three dockets. After your retraining in Arvarikor, where had you planned on going?”

“I usually split Noh Amair in half, but I think it would be better if I did it in three parts. I will ask and see where I am needed the most. I doubt I will return to Gheny for some time.”

“I believe that is a sound plan. The Cumber has taken interest in you and-”

There was a knock at the door. Isken poked his head in after Curvorn gave him permission to. “The woman is awake,” he said quickly and left.

Raulin schooled his features. Indifference, neutrality, maybe boredom. In his mind he screamed with delight, the rush of joy at finally being able to see her, to talk with her, to tell her how much he loved her and how thankful he was at her sacrifice and how angry he was that she took his punishment and how happy he was that she lived.

“Well, we shall have our first test, then,” Curvorn said. “A few minutes, then report back to me.”

“Yes, master,” he said, bracing his forearms in a salute.

His gait was measured, his posture relaxed. He was casual and nonchalant as he walked through the door to the infirmary. Al looked up from the table, his eyes tight with suspicion. He’d already asked twice where Raulin was spending all his time. Raulin suspected he wasn’t happy with his answer and he’d ask again, just not now. He turned, pretended to look outside, then rushed to Anla’s side.

“Hi, ainle,” he said, taking her hand. He was shocked at how much weight she’d lost. She looked almost as gaunt as when he’d first met her. Still beautiful, though.

Anla gave him a weak smile. “Hi, ainler,” she said, her voice hoarse from disuse.

“How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get you?”

She shook her head slightly. “I just wanted to see you.”

“I’m sorry about the mask. There’s not much I can do about it.”

“It’s okay. I remember.”

He lifted her hand to the mouth of his mask. “I want you to promise me that you’ll never do anything like this again.”

“No,” she said, her smile dropping.

“I mean it. You almost died. In fact, you may have. I can’t live in a world where you’re not there.”

“That’s why I did it. I did what I needed to to make sure you would live. I’d sacrifice whatever I needed to in order to make sure you were happy.”

He sighed and held her hand tighter. “I understand what you’re saying, but I can’t accept it in return.”

She reached up to move a lock of hair out of his face and found it was gone. She touched his temple anyway. There was a snap and an echoing sound as she gave them privacy. “It’s why we married. We chose to be bound until we die and I haven’t had enough time with you. My pain and comfort was a small price to pay for your life.”

He sighed. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that. Do you know how much this has eaten away at me over this last week? I don’t think I can hate myself more.”

“Then I’ll love you to make up for it.” She smiled and looked in his eyes. “Are we still good for when we leave?”

His stomach seized, but he said, “There are still big plans ahead for us. I need you to get better enough to travel. Your back…” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “Your back is still very bad. You need to eat and regain strength; you’re skin and bones again. You have to get healthy before anything else can happen.”

“I know. I’ll start now that I’m awake.” She dropped the dome and tried to sit up, but Raulin gently pressed her arm down.

“Rest. I’ll get some food for you to eat.” But, by the time he had returned, she had fallen asleep.

Raulin turned to catch Al’s gaze. “You’ll feed her when she wakes up?”

“Yes. Where are you going?”

“Training.” Al’s eyebrows furrowed and his shoulders slumped. “Listen. They’ve been extremely generous thus far, letting three miartha stay on grounds, letting Alistad stay for a night to heal us, feeding us and giving us medical supplies. I would rebuild this entire compound pebble by pebble for those gifts. I have to do whatever they say.”

Al frowned, but nodded as Raulin walked back to meet with Curvorn.

Most days were like this, with Raulin in and out of the infirmary, checking in on Anla, continuing to use the medicine and Al’s ability to heal, chatting with the three of them. Anla grew stronger and her back healed, though like Raulin, the skin would never be smooth and unblemished again.

Raulin slept in the same room, as close to Anla as he dared. Curvorn had said nothing of that. He supposed it would have been wise to start sleeping in one of those open rooms available to any passing trirec, but it seemed like every night at least one of the group would awake with a scream, unsounded or not, and the nearest person would reach out and grab their hand. By the time mid-June rolled around, Raulin tallied at least a dozen of those occasions alone.

Then finally, it was the thirteenth of June. Raulin had double-checked the records from last year and knew when he’d left. He’d only taken a day to get to Carvek, then two days before he had assassinated the Count. It had been another in jail. That night would have been the twelfth, after sunset, so likely ten o’clock at night or so when he had drank from the chalice. This meant that the spell should be broken.

Curvorn was concerned that things were still too unscripted, so he gave Raulin permission to walk to a point that was past a mile, then return and report to him. He took the opportunity to visit the Queyellan temple. He trusted Anla and didn’t think Isky had lied to her in the letter, but there was still a weight on his shoulders that would hopefully dissipate once he saw her for himself.

She was, again, in the front room pouring water into basins. He could still see her beauty, but she was unfortunately against high standards. He wouldn’t compare her to his wife, since that would be unfair to this woman, but he still did enjoy watching her accomplish her task with almost ecstasy on her face.

He saw her eyes widen when she saw him, then recognized him. “You’re back. I…I can’t…” she began, then started towards the doorway to another room.

“Wait, please,” he said. “I only wanted to apologize.”

She turned back and put the pitcher on the wide edge of one of the basins. “You don’t need to apologize. I shouldn’t have done it, but it was my choice.”

“I didn’t realize when we…when it happened that you might suffer afterwards because of it. I should have. If you had died, I would have felt responsible and grieved…”

She put her hand up to quiet him. “I find myself still attracted to you, but I didn’t…” She looked around for a moment. “Would you like to speak somewhere quieter?”

“Briefly,” he said.

She led him to a small room that was meant for consultations or meetings. He sat across from her and waited for her to continue. “My name is Raulin, by the way.”

“Nerien. What I was saying was that it wasn’t a mistake. I think that, even though I’ve never seen your face, that you’re a charming man. But, I didn’t, um, do what I did because of that. It was because I felt Queyella speak to me. She told me to, that She wanted me to, that it was important.”

Raulin blinked at this. He didn’t want to seem rude, but he had always been uncomfortable speaking to zealots. “Why do you think it was important?”

“I don’t know. I only had faith in Her. She told me all would be well and that I had served Her well. And so, when I was in the waters and I should have died, I lived. The tide should have covered my head, but that day it had behaved irregularly. It never went higher than my chin. She cradled me instead of killing me.”

“Why would She ask you to do that, especially Her of all the gods?”

“I don’t know,” she said, folding her hands and looking down.

“Doesn’t that bother you, not knowing?”

She gave a hard smile and looked up again. “There’s a certain peace that comes with understanding that faith makes you a pawn and not a bishop.”

“Where do you get that kind of faith?” he asked, realizing somewhere in those words that the conversation was shifting.

“You do not have it?”

“No.”

“Who is your family’s patron deity?”

“Do you mean the one who abandoned them when they were slaughtered? Magrithon.”

Nerien blinked at this. A look of understanding washed over her face, but she didn’t address it and he didn’t elaborate. He hoped she was realizing why she had been attracted to him and not anything more. “My father was a fisherman who never came back one day. From then on I hated Queyella. She took my father from me. Later, my mother grew sick and died when I was fourteen. I’m guessing I was older than you were, but I understand the hardships of being an orphan.

“I was still angry when I and my little brothers were sent to live with my aunt and uncle. I was still angry when She spoke to me. I was still angry when I went to this temple and told them to make Her stop talking to me. The priestess, her name was Waztel, sat with me and just held my face in her hands, her old, gnarled fingers pressing lightly against my cheekbones. And the anger burned away and I was left with the realization that it was all fear. I was afraid that my father’s spirit was in agony. I was afraid my mother had died hating me. I was afraid of my future, especially since I realized it was with the being I hated the most, with Her. That was when my healing began and I stopped fearing.”

He nodded. “I’m happy to hear you’re happy.”

“I feel like you aren’t, though.”

“I have a long journey ahead of me with a lot of pain.”

“Is there any way I can help?”

He stood. “No, though I appreciate it. Your words were nice to hear.” When he was in the next room, he left a gold coin on the edge of the basin.

His mind was a storm. He was technically free of the group, the spell broken, but he knew he never would be happy about it. It was okay. He had come to terms with this. There was no choice.

That night he slept in the room with the group. In the morning he left Anla’s flower next to her head, a solitary bloom that he had paid five silver to a sentimental shopkeeper to part with.

They were visited around lunch by Curvorn. “How are we feeling?” he asked.

“I think we’re well enough to travel,” Al answered.

“Excellent. I think the time has come to part ways, then. I’ll give you one half-hour to pack and then we’ll escort you outside the premises.”

“Where’s Raulin?” Al asked, looking around.

“It’s no longer your concern, but Raulin has already left for Noh Amair.”