And a trail of white daisies peeking merrily through the half-frozen mud, too early in the season to be in such bright bloom.
Mehen made himself wait for Havilar to wake up and come down for morningfeast, uncertain it was the right course. He had hardly slept, arguing late into the night with Tam and his Harpers, until Brin made him leave. They weren’t saying Farideh was a traitor. They weren’t planning to hunt her down. But Mehen knew Tam well enough to know he wasn’t going to throw out the evidence for being absurd, and no amount of shouting from Mehen would make the difference. They’d go as soon as Dahl had better information.
He wished he’d kept Havilar close all the same. He wished he’d bundled both girls up and whisked them out of this filthy city, out of harm’s way.
He’d made the Harpers swear to take him with them. No one was going to tell Clanless Mehen to cool his heels while Netherese and devils and planes knew what else menaced his daughter. Just the thought enraged him-and he held tight to that rage, knowing the alternative would undo him all over again. He wouldn’t lose Farideh again.
Mehen considered the stairs up to the inn’s rooms, and tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Havilar would need to come as well-a thought that nearly made him willing to stay behind. She wasn’t strong enough yet.
But he couldn’t abandon Farideh. And he couldn’t abandon Havi either.
Mehen sighed and stretched the tension from his neck. The sun was well up and still no Havilar. Probably nothing, he thought. Probably just wants to be alone a bit. He went up the stairs anyway, unable to stand another lonesome moment.
Once upon a time, Havilar had insisted on sleeping on the floor beside his bed-not crawling in like a baby-and once she’d drifted off, Mehen would have lifted her in beside him, off the cold boards. But Havilar wasn’t his wild little girl anymore, seeking comfort from a nightmare. He sighed as he turned down the hall. So many years without them-he felt as clumsy and out of practice being their father as Havilar did with her glaive.
Listen to your gut, he told himself, because there was nothing else he could do.
Brin was standing in the hallway, staring at Havilar’s shut door. Mehen paused, watching the young man for a moment, wanting as much to leave them both to their privacy and to run him off before he could do something to break Havilar’s heart on top of everything else.
There was no word for the knowledge you weren’t supposed to have-how differently would things have turned out if Mehen had found out about the Cormyrean lordling and his daughter a few short tendays after the fact? He couldn’t imagine being anything but furious. But years after? When the boy had become something like a son, something like a friend? Mehen didn’t know what to hope for anymore, except that Brin would be kind to her.
Brin looked up at Mehen and gave him a wan smile. “Well met.”
“Well met. Any news?”
Brin shrugged. “Lot of talk. Tam’s pretty convinced this is bigger than just Farideh. He wants a full expedition, but the others are trying to hold him off until Dahl gets another sending through with more information.” Brin sighed. “Assuming he can. Tam won’t admit he’s worried about Dahl too.”
“Worried he’s a liar,” Mehen said. “Why would she work with Shade?”
“Tam knows,” Brin said. “Still, it bears investigation. Why else would Dahl mention it?”
Mehen bristled. “Because he’s excitable and he doesn’t like her. He said as much.”
“He told you they fought because you scare the piss out of him, much as you do everyone,” Brin reminded him gently. He shook his head. “And who doesn’t Dahl fight with? But all I mean is, there are Netherese involved. So the Harpers need to be involved.”
“They could be involved faster,” Mehen said. If they were too slow, too cautious. . He tapped his tongue against the rough roof of his mouth, reminding himself to be calm. “Did you sit down with her yet?” Mehen asked, nodding at the door.
“Almost. I will. It’s not easy.” Brin shook his head. “You know. You know exactly. Terrible and wonderful and. .”
“And the words aren’t there,” Mehen finished. “Might be best. You lay everything out too quick, you’ll send her running. You don’t need to be the thing that breaks her.”
Brin nodded, as if he didn’t believe it, but he didn’t have a better plan.
“Might be the gift hiding in all this,” Mehen said. “There’s more time before we have to go back.”
Brin chuckled once, bitter and aching. “Not much of a gift.” He turned away from the door. “She’s still asleep.”
Mehen squeezed past him and pounded on the door. “Havi? Havi, you need to get up!”
Silence.
Mehen pressed the side of his head to the door and tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth. There were no sounds-not the faint drone of Havilar’s sleeping breath, not the slight shift of her, awake and annoyed-and the taste of her scent was dull and old. Mehen’s heart thundered in his ears as he wrenched the door open.
The bed was empty. Her glaive, her haversack, her cloak-all gone.
There was only a note on the bed.
And Clanless Mehen, for the first time since Brin had shown up in Suzail and told him his daughters were gone, felt panic sink its frozen claws into the deepest part of him, and pull him earthward. You think the world has hurt you? it might have whispered. There is so much more pain for you.
Steady, he told himself. Steady.
Brin pushed past him, read the note, and cursed. “She’s left. With Lorcan. They’ve gone after Farideh.” He scanned the note again. “They took horses.”
Mehen reached for the note. “She wouldn’t have gone with Lorcan.”
Brin held tight to the sheet. “No. He says he has some way to find Farideh, so they’re following that. North. Gods damn it, Havi.”
“That karshoji henish!” First Farideh, now Havilar-you fool, he thought, you utter fool. He should have killed the devil when he’d had a chance. He should have stopped this, all of this, ages ago. “Tell Tam I’ve gone.”
“Wait!” Brin called. “Mehen you can’t-”
“Don’t you tell me I can’t,” Mehen roared. “I know what I can do. I’m not going to sit here and-”
“Mehen you can’t get to them both,” Brin said. “You know it. There isn’t a horse in that stable-in any stable-that can carry you that fast. By the time you get Havi back, the Harpers will have gone. And they’ll have made up their minds about Farideh, with or without you.”
It was true. He couldn’t be sure how long Havilar had been gone, how far she’d traveled, but with the scent of her so cold and stale it had to be hours and hours.
“If I go now,” Brin said. “I might be able to get her back before the Harpers leave. But if I don’t, you can still go after Farideh.”
There was no part of Clanless Mehen that didn’t rebel at the plan-he would not sit back like an old man and wait for others to do his duty He would not let the boy who held his daughter’s heart in his hands shatter it out in the wilds, where that devil might pick up the pieces.
But they were both out of his reach, and there was nothing he could do in that moment-Brin was right, Tam was right. He had to rely on others and wait.
Mehen grabbed the younger man’s arm, hard enough and suddenly enough to make Brin try and pull away, frightened. Good, he thought viciously.
“You listen to me,” Mehen said. “You find her, you bring her back. You don’t lose her and don’t you hurt her, or I swear on every bit of esteem I have for you now, I will make you wish you left me in that cell.”
“I know,” Brin said. He pulled free. “I don’t want her hurt either.”
Mehen grabbed hold of Brin again, this time in a fierce embrace. “Be careful yourself, lad. Don’t leave me wondering.”