Tullen was the first to speak. “Here we go. I never thought I’d be in a wagon with bars on the windows.” He smiled.
At the sight of Tullen’s grin, Tavi looked away. “I’m going to take a nap.” She lay on the mattress on the floor, put a pillow under her head, and closed her eyes. But the dirt road was bumpy, and the unsteadiness of the ride mirrored her anxious thoughts. Sleep eluded her.
Chapter Sixteen
SOLDIER: Yes, sir. I’m prepared to leave as soon as it’s dark.
RELIN: You’ll leave now; I won’t have you skulking about the enemy camp. You’re far less likely to be caught if you’re hiding in plain sight.
-From Relin: A Play in Three Acts by Hestina Arlo
“I need to stop for a second.” Ash pulled on his horse’s reins, and Wrey did the same with her mount. They both halted. Ash reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a map.
“Get outta the road!” a gruff voice behind him called.
Ash looked around; the road was narrow and crowded, and the man behind him couldn’t pass. Ash muttered an apology, and he and Wrey nudged their horses to continue. He held the reins with one hand, shook the folded map open with the other, and tried to figure out where they were.
They were in the right part of town, at least. The odor of fish and salt proved they’d reached the eastern section of Savala that terminated at the ocean. Everyone called this ancient, seedy section of the city The Port. Ash’s map of The Port looked like it had been drawn by a child who didn’t know how to make straight lines; it was full of roads that meandered wherever they pleased and intersections that scoffed at the concept of right angles. The actual streets were even more confusing than the map.
“Excuse me,” Wrey said to a woman walking next to her horse. “Can you please direct us to Willunset Street?”
“Sure, easy to get there from here. First turn ‘round and go back the way you came. About a quarter mile down, you’ll see a brick building with a green door. Or maybe red, I’m colorblind, so I’m not sure. Turn left there, then go another couple blocks, and you’ll see Willunset.”
None of that sounded “easy” to Ash. The first instruction, to turn around, was daunting enough on this busy street. But he and Wrey managed it, angering at least a dozen people in the process.
They kept an eye open for the brick building with the green or red door and finally found one that might fit that description. The green paint had peeled so much that most of the door was weathered gray. They turned left, then had to ask two more strangers for directions before they found the right street.
Their destination was 62 Willunset Street. They found a house with the number 12 on it, kept going, and sighed when they encountered number 6. At least turning around was easier on this quiet, residential street.
Ash thought it would be easy to find the house once they’d navigated to the proper street and determined in which direction the numbers progressed. In minutes, he realized how wrong he was. The numbering system was a cipher. Many of the buildings had no number posted at all, and the numbers that were visible didn’t fit any pattern. They passed number 20, and the next home was number 30. Three homes down was number 31, which baffled them. What were the numbers of the in-between buildings? When they passed number 42 1/3, Ash gave up trying to figure it out, just hoping they’d eventually encounter number 62.
They did, after several blocks of confusion. Number 62 was labeled clearly, with big, brass digits hanging on the bright orange door. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ash and Wrey brought their horses to a stop, dismounted, and tied them to a small hitching post. They maneuvered their way to the front walkway, Ash scowling as they skirted around horse droppings in various stages of freshness.
At the front door, Wrey lifted and lowered a metal door knocker molded to look like the smiling face of a beautiful woman. The door opened. A woman stood before them wearing a loose, flowing dress with sleeves so long, they covered her hands. Her long hair flowed in gentle waves, and her features were perfect: smooth eyes, full lips, and straight teeth. Ash’s eyes flickered to the door knocker, and the woman laughed with a surprisingly gravelly voice.
“Those who are observant enough to notice the resemblance generally assume I had the door knocker made to look like me,” she said. “On the contrary, I made myself to look like her. Come in.” She followed Ash’s glance to his and Wrey’s mounts. “We’ll be in the front room by the window, and you can keep an eye on your horses. They’ll be fine.”
Ash followed the woman and Wrey inside. They all sat, as promised, by the front window.
“I’m Revinee,” the woman said.
Ash’s eyes widened. “But I thought—”
“That I was older?” Revinee interrupted. “I told you, I changed myself to match the door knocker. I alter my face every couple of years. Teeth too. I get a little help with the hair; it’s gray under this dye. What you can’t see under the clothing is a body that looks every bit of its sixty-seven years. I wish my gift allowed me to alter bodies, but it only seems to work on faces and teeth. Ah, well, I suppose Sava wants to keep me humble. Now, how can I help you two?”
“So it’s true?” Ash asked. “You can change faces with your touch gift?”
“I can. It’s painful beyond anything you might imagine.” Revinee’s tone was matter-of-fact.
Ash had heard of the pain involved, but he had a plan for that. “I’d like you to change my face. Nothing major, just enough so people who know me wouldn’t recognize me.”
Revinee laughed and leaned toward Wrey. “ ‘Nothing major,’ he says!” Wrey smiled. “Why do you want to change your face?” Revinee asked Ash.
“I’m tired of this one,” Ash said.
Revinee gave him a squinty frown, an expression that somehow communicated her age, despite her soft skin and bright eyes. “Are you aware that if your intentions are unacceptable, my magic may not work on you?”
Ash didn’t flinch. “I know.” He took a deep breath. “Truth be told, my brother recently died. Whenever my mother looks at me, she’s overcome with grief because I look so much like him. I want my face to change so my mother will experience less pain.”
Revinee’s expression didn’t indicate how credible she found him. “It’ll be six hundred chips. Half upfront, half when it’s done.”
Ash heard a sound come out of his mouth that was half-laugh, half-cough. “Six hundred? Is that negotiable?”
“Not remotely. Put the deposit on the table there, please. Assuming you’d like to continue.”
They’d brought enough; Konner had sent them with eight hundred chips in coins of large denominations. Ash hadn’t thought they’d even need half of it. He swallowed. “Very well.” He opened the coin bag, counted out three hundred chips, and placed the money on the table. “My friend here is sight-blessed,” Ash said. “She’ll look at me to put me to sleep. But you can’t be watching, or it might work on you too.”
Revinee’s eyebrows lifted, and she looked at Wrey with interest. “That is a valuable gift.”
“Also, I don’t want to look odd,” Ash said, drawing Revinee’s attention back to him. “I rather like my face. I want it to look different, but please don’t mess it up.”
“Don’t worry,” Revinee said with a smirk. “You’ll be just as handsome as ever. Want me to move your teeth too?”
“How much extra would that be?” Ash asked.
“It’s included.”
Ash ran his tongue over his teeth, top and bottom. “The bottom ones overlap a little,” he said. “Can you fix that?”
“Easily.”
“Then let’s do it. I’d like to lie down before Wrey uses her magic on me.”
Revinee pointed to a small couch. Ash lay on it, and Wrey approached him. Revinee turned around. Wrey narrowed her eyes, and they filled with gray magic.
Ash woke, and the memory of Wrey’s eyes, glowing with stormy light, filled his mind. He touched his face. It didn’t feel any different, but p
erhaps . . .? Then he saw Revinee standing next to him, hands on her hips, scorn clear on her face.
“I don’t know your true motive,” she said, “but I encountered immediate resistance when I placed my hands on your face. There will be no refund of the three hundred chips. Consider it the price for lying.”
Ash sat up and gave Revinee a polite smile. “Please have a seat,” he said.
Revinee raised her eyebrows but complied. Wrey was already seated.
“Do you often lose business due to resistance?” Ash asked.
“Nearly half my paying customers walk out of here with their original faces intact. Some of them even confess their motives once they realize my magic won’t work on them. Most are criminals evading arrest or cheating spouses who want a new start. I keep their deposits as I will keep yours. No one complains, lest I tell the world they visited me.”
“You keep their deposits,” Ash said, “but you’re forfeiting half what they would’ve paid if you’d completed the job.”
“I take that into account when I set my prices.”
Ash kept his expression casual as he examined Revinee. It was impossible to read her perfect face, but her rough voice and cold words reflected a cunningness born of years of experience. It was time to test just how shrewd she was.
Earlier that day, Ash had told Wrey to prepare herself to talk to Revinee about joining the Grays. Wrey had made her discomfort clear, saying she wasn’t ready to recruit others yet. But he’d insisted.
Wrey’s initial reluctance had concerned Ash, but it hadn’t surprised him. He’d met her months earlier when he’d arrived at a healing house in terrible pain. She had put him to sleep so a healer could remove his appendix. When he’d awakened without any grogginess, he’d marveled at her gift and asked her to consider joining the Grays.
She’d been leery of his offer, particularly once she learned what a gray awakening entailed, but she’d hated her job at the healing house. Putting patients to sleep didn’t take much of her time, and she also had to launder dirty linens, change bandages, and give sponge baths.
After much consideration, Wrey had told Ash she would join the Grays to escape the tedium of her daily existence. He’d accepted that, assuming she’d catch their vision eventually. But now he wasn’t so sure. He hoped this conversation with Revinee would prove Wrey’s commitment to the cause.
Ash gave Wrey a small nod. Her narrow lips parted in a lopsided, wobbly smile. Seeing it, Ash almost stepped in to handle the conversation himself. But Wrey swallowed, then asked Revinee, “If you could use your gift without resistance, would you lower your prices, or would you keep the extra income?”
Revinee raised her eyebrows. “I have a reputation to keep up, one I’ve cultivated for nearly five decades. I’ve earned the right to charge what I do. I would keep the income and enjoy it. Of course, it’s a moot point, since eliminating resistance is impossible, but if it weren’t . . .” She trailed off, and her lovely eyes looked off to the side, as if she were dreaming of the possibilities.
Ash gave Wrey another nod, and Wrey cleared her throat. “It’s possible.” The two words pierced the still air in the room, drawing Revinee’s gaze back to them.
“Pardon me?” Revinee asked.
“We can help you eliminate resistance,” Wrey said. “You wouldn’t have to lose customers over that anymore.”
Revinee’s response was immediate. “I want that.”
“We’re part of a group. We do magic without resistance.” Wrey had folded her hands tightly, and her voice was strained, like she was forcing the words through her throat. “If we help you in this way, you’d be part of our group too. You’d have to work for us sometimes, of course.”
Revinee nodded, her eyes bright. “Tell me more.”
Wrey looked at Ash with wide eyes and a sealed mouth. He wanted to throw his hands in the air. Revinee was fairly begging to join the Grays, and Wrey’s discomfort wouldn’t allow her to seal the deal. He’d have to take over the conversation.
Ash tilted his head, met Revinee’s eyes, and asked in his friendliest tone, “Why?” Seeing Revinee’s confusion, he said, “This goes against everything the midwives and shepherds teach about magic and about Sava’s role in it. Before I tell you more, I have to know, why would you want to do that?”
“I’ve lived for over six decades, and while I spent the first few praying to Sava, I’ve spent the last few wondering why he never showed himself to me. If I have to choose between seeking an invisible deity,” and she gestured with her head to the table where Ash had placed his money, “or seeking coins I can see and touch and taste, the silver wins every time.”
The corner of Ash’s mouth turned up. He looked to Wrey again, but she shook her head slightly. Very well. Ash explained what gray magic was and how it functioned. Taking a cue from Revinee’s honesty, he didn’t downplay the physical pain associated with the gray burn.
When Ash demonstrated his gray magic, using his touch gift to steal several of the coins he had just given Revinee, she cackled and clapped. For the first time, he saw her hands, which had been hidden in her flowing sleeves. Dark age spots covered her wrinkled skin. Ash released his magic and handed the coins back to her. She put the money back on the table and drew her hands back into her sleeves.
“How do I get this magic?” Revinee asked.
Her lovely eyes widened as Ash described how she would need to kill a Blessed, stealing their final breath. But she didn’t throw her guests out or even ask for time to think about it. She merely asked, “How has every member of your group completed such a task without raising suspicion?”
Wrey answered that one. “Most of us found a Blessed who was suffering and close to death. We considered it merciful to take their lives.”
“Other sun-blessed people frown on my line of work,” Revinee said. “I rarely spend time with them. I have no idea where I’ll find one who’s close to death.”
“Let us take care of that,” Ash said. “But first, I must confirm. Are you saying you wish to join the Grays?”
Revinee sat up straighter and looked Ash in the eyes. “With all my heart.”
Ash and Wrey didn’t talk much on their way home. They tied up their horses in the back yard of the Gray House. Konner would send someone to pick them up later.
When he saw Wrey walking toward the back door, Ash said, “Let’s talk before we go in.” Wrey nodded. Ash led her to the trees that surrounded the tunnel’s opening. “You were uncomfortable today,” he said.
Tears filled Wrey’s eyes. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”
“What is?”
“Being a Gray.”
Ash looked away, his eyes lingering on Konner’s horses. He agreed with Wrey; it was harder than he’d expected too. But he doubted her misgivings were tied to their egotistical leader like his were. Taking a guess at what was bothering her, he said, “You know I’m as upset about what happened in Oren as you are, right?”
Wrey looked away, blinking rapidly, and he thought he’d gotten it right. But he also guessed it was more than that. “And as for Revinee’s gray awakening,” he added, “we’ll find a Blessed who’s in pain and wants to die. Just like you did at your healing house.”
Wrey let out her breath and nodded.
“Remember,” Ash said, “we’re doing this for a good reason. We will make this nation strong again.”
“I know,” Wrey said, “and you’ll make a good king. I believe that. But to be honest, I joined the Grays because I wanted to change my job, not change the whole country.”
“I know.” For weeks, Ash had made an effort to inspire Wrey with visions of what a Corminian monarchy would look like. He’d talked about the freedom they’d have to lead as they saw fit, and he’d tried to entice her with descriptions of the privileges she’d enjoy as a member of his court. But none of that appeared to be working, and he wondered if it was a hopeless endeavor.
Ash asked himself, for the hundredth time, if he shou
ld have refused Wrey entrance into the Grays. But by the time he’d understood her motivations, she’d known too much. If he’d walked away, he would have had to trust her not to talk. Or he could have taken the safer route, the only one Konner would have approved of. He could have offered up Wrey as the path to someone else’s gray awakening. But she was in the prime of her life. She wouldn’t have deserved that.
“Wrey.” Ash waited for her to meet his gaze. “You can’t let Konner know how you feel. It wouldn’t go well for you. You’ve got to work toward our goals, even if you don’t want to. Konner can smell weakness.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I know. I’ll be careful. I’m still a Gray. I’ll act like one.”
“Good.”
Chapter Seventeen
Up mountain trails, down dusty roads,
The soldiers’ trek was slow and long.
‘Round nightly fires, the ale flowed,
And voices rose in cheerful song.
-From Relin the Fierce, Author Unknown
Tullen grasped both ends of a dry stick in his hand, bending it until it broke with a satisfying snap. He propped it up, adding it to the small tent of kindling he was building. He stood and walked into the trees to look for more wood. The other travelers were exploring the forest, and Tullen was grateful for a few minutes of quiet.
They were halfway to Savala, and Tullen couldn’t get one thought out of his head: Maybe I should’ve stayed home. In his mind, Oren had become home, and he half-wished to be back in his living quarters above the butcher. But at least once a day, his mind wandered further, and he wondered if he should have stayed in the Meadow, his original home.
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