Chapter Twenty

Galen the Knife was cold, wet, and miserable, and by god, he was going to make someone pay for it. The past three days had been nothing but a relentless steady downpour of frigid late fall rain. The kind of rain that hit the skin like shards of glass and left a chill in your bones that even shelter and a roaring fire couldn’t seem to shake. Not that he had either of those anyway, out here in the world’s outhouse surrounded by nothing by bushes, trees, and gimmig flies that tried to plant eggs in your skin when you stopped moving.

But someone was out here. Someone who had fled the last town he’d stopped at to keep from getting caught. Galen had to hand it to her. Gavera LeCrae was infuriatingly good at avoiding him. When it came to Shikari skilled in stealth and subterfuge, she was one the best. Probably better than him, if he was honest. Her Yssharin blood made that easy for her. But he wasn’t in it for her. He didn’t care about her swiving bounty, or the dozens of jobs offered by past targets, and clients, that wanted her dead. He also didn’t care that she was the most jaw-droppingly beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and definitely never thought about the things they’d done together once upon a time that had left him exhausted and walking funny afterwards.

No. He was after her now because she knew where the man he wanted was hiding. She had helped the man with a contract not long before now. And she was going to tell Galen where he was. And if she didn’t, he, regrettably, was going to have to make her talk. He didn’t want that. Harming someone like her would be like damaging a priceless piece of art. But if it came to it, he would.

The dark form of the inn in the distance appeared out of the rain and fog. It was dark, which under normal circumstances would have led him to just keep moving. But not this time. She was inside waiting on him. She knew he was coming He knew this for certain. And he knew that she knew that he knew. And the very fact that she stayed anyways told him she didn’t care.

Interesting.

Well, best not to keep her waiting.

Galen walked up to the front door of the inn and pounded on it. When no response came, he raised his hand to open it, only to find it opening and swinging inward before he could touch the handle. He rested his hand on the pommel of his sword and stepped into the darkness. The door shut behind him with a click. He raised his hand to conjure some light, but froze when he felt the point of a blade press against his spine.

“A hello would have been sufficient, Gav.” He said.

“You know I don’t like it when you call me that.” Gavera said.

“Has it ever occurred to you that that is exactly why I do it?” Galen said.

“What do you want, Galen? If you’re expecting me to help you hurt one of the most powerful men on the continent, you’re even dumber than I thought.” Gavera said.

“I just want to talk. That’s all. If anything else happens besides that, it will be your decision, not mine.” He replied.

“Is that your attempt at trying to threaten me?”

Galen grinned in the darkness.

“I dunno, Maybe. Why? Is it working?”

Gavera sighed, and Galen felt the point of the weapon at the base of his neck drop. A moment later, several lamps overhead burned to life, revealing a common room filled with dust and overturned table and chairs. It looked like it had been out of use for a long time, and whoever had used it last left in a hurry. Gavera stepped around him into the light and faced him, the light overhead making a halo around the waterfall of glossy raven-black curls spilling down her shoulders. She wore a pair of tight-fitting and high-cut leather trousers and a loose white fencer’s shirt encircled by a thick belt. Light glinted off the silver points of her knee-high riding boots. Her rapier, The Weaver’s Needle, rested gently on one shoulder, and she watched him suspiciously, her golden eyes keen for even his slightest move. She looked absolutely devastating.

“Talk, before I run out of reasons not to bury this in your eyesocket.” She said.

Galen raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“Easy. I mean what I say.” He said

“I’ve heard that one before.” She said.

“Yeah, you’re right. But this time I actually mean it.”

“I’ve heard that one too. Twice.” Gavera said.

Galen chuckled sheepishly, then scratched the back of his head, a movement which nearly got him speared through the throat before Gavera stopped herself.

“Look, you know who I am looking for. I want nothing else from you. Just tell me where he is or where he is going, and I’ll leave the instant you do. No tricks, no ulterior motives. Just the name of a location, and I’m gone. I swear it.” He said.

“What, you think I just keep track of the locations and travel of every high lord on the continent?” Gavera asked.

“The ones that pay you to do dirty work for them, yes.” Galen said, locking eyes with her.

Gavera held his gaze for a long time, until she finally looked away, lowering her rapier to her side in the process.

“Well, you’re out of luck, because he stopped paying me a while ago.” She said. “Apparently even The Black Prince is too good to hire a Yysharin these days, if you can believe it.”

“The war must be going a lot worse than I thought, then.” Galen mused aloud. The Grand Court had unaninmously agreed to war with Yyshar a few months ago, and since then, even native-born citizens of the Ducal Hieracracy found themselves the target of prejudice and even violence for looking like the enemy. But for a monster like Prince Vast to refuse to hire one of the best Shikari alive because of her lineage? That was surprising, even for the current social climate.

“If he won’t hire you, I’m guessing basically no one of importance will anymore either.”

“Well, you’d be right about that.” Gavera said bitterly.

Galen crossed his arms.

“All the more reason for you to help me, then.” He said.

“Hah, you couldn’t afford me.” She replied.

Galen pulled a large purse from one of his belt pouches and tossed it on the ground with a heavy thud.

“I think should do for a start.” He said.

Gavera eyed the purse hungrily, then looked back at him.

“Where’d you get that?”

Galen smiled humorlessly.

“Let’s just say the last person I spoke with was flush with capital since he decided to switch from guarding to banking. In addition to being impoverished in moral scruples, he is now also sorely lacking in the head department.” He said. “Along, of course, with all the sycophants and rent-swords who tried to protect him.”

Gavera leveled a gaze at Galen that looked uncomfortably like pity.

“How many more do you plan to kill before the end of this, Gale?” She asked.

“As many as it takes to get justice, Gav.” He said, his voice hard. “Their deaths are their choice. It’s not my fault they’d rather protect a monster than see the right thing done.”

Gavera snorted.

“I know this is filthy swiving rich coming from me, but there’s a godsdamned difference between getting justice and butchering your way through gods know how many people to get what you want.” She said.

Galen held her gaze for a long moment. But this time, he looked away first.

“I know. It...it won’t be like this forever. Once he is dead, and everyone who has helped him is dead. I am finished. There are only a few left. And then I can go home.” He said quietly.

Gavera watched him silently for several seconds, then stepped forward and scooped the purse between them off the ground.

“I’ll tell you what I know, under two conditions. First, after this is over, you, Galen Russo, are done killing. For good. Second, when you are done, you will come back to me. For good.” She said, stepping forward and resting an olive skinned hand on his cheek. “I miss you.”

Galen smiled humorlessly.

“You know I’m going back to my wife after this, Gav.” He said.

Gavera’s face hardened. She snatched her hand away. She turned and stalked away, carrying the purse with her.

“He’s finally gone back home. If you hurry, you can probably still catch him there. ” She called back over her shoulder. “Oh, and when you do get back to that wife of yours, tell her I said hello.”

Then she stepped out the back door and slammed it behind her, leaving Galen alone in the common room as the lamps overhead flickered out.