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“Ten?”

A whisper.

My shoulders went rigid. The question came from somewhere behind me. I didn’t dare turn with recognition, but it came again, louder this time.

“Ten?”

A girl circled in front of me. “I’m sorry, but aren’t you Ten? I’ve been trying to place you ever since the first day, and I just remembered. My family was in Sanctum City for a year when—”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“But—”

“My name’s Kazi,” I said firmly. “Bogeve ya.” Move on.

Her eyes shifted to Jase and then she quickly looked down, as if she realized her mistake. “Of course. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“No bother.”

“Ten?” Jase said as she walked away. “What kind of name is that?”

I shrugged. “I think it’s a highland name—short for Tenashe.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t already know that your name was Kazi.”

“There are a lot of new names to learn. She probably just got confused.”

I was grateful that Jase’s attention turned back to food as the cook cut off a slab of venison for our plates, and I decided I was glad that we were returning to Tor’s Watch in the morning after all.

Just before dusk, Aleski rode in with news that made our return more urgent. It was a message from Gunner. Come home. A letter has arrived from Venda. The queen is on her way.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

JASE

Mije snorted. The braids Jalaine had woven into his mane were brushed out, and I think he and I both preferred it that way. He was a magnificent beast, muscled but balanced, with a gleaming black coat. The Vendans knew something about breeding. Kazi finished brushing him then slid his saddle blanket down his withers. I picked up his saddle.

“I can do that,” Kazi said, reaching for it. She was on edge. Maybe because we were going back to Tor’s Watch the unspoken words between us simmered closer to the surface.

I held it firm. “Please, let me help, Kazi. Besides, I think he likes me.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s because you feed him treats. Don’t think that I don’t see.”

I shrugged and lifted the saddle onto him. “Only a few snap peas.”

“And parsnips.”

The traitorous Mije nudged my arm, exposing me.

“See? You’ve spoiled him.” She patted his side. “And he’s getting thick around the middle.”

He wasn’t, and I knew she didn’t really mind. She reached down and tightened his cinch. “We’ll catch up soon,” she said.

“Our horses won’t be moving fast,” I said, rubbing Mije’s neck. “Take your time.”

She spotted where I had nicked my thumb this morning. “What happened?”

The cut was business between me and the gods. Blood vows weren’t only made in temples, but sometimes in meadows. “Nothing,” I answered. “Just a scratch.” I turned back to the wagon I’d be driving, double-checking the hitch and then the tack on my horses.


Tags: Mary E. Pearson Dance of Thieves Fantasy