“He’s not paying me at all." Genevra brushed blonde strands from her face with her free hand. "He feeds me and keeps me in clothes.” She waved at the garments hanging in the wall niche. "He gives me a comfortable place to stay and anything I want, within reason."
"Except a life, to speak of."
“They keep me safe, and I heal whoever they tell me.” She shrugged, managing to keep her healing hand still as she did. "There are worse existences than this."
"Working for no pay but sustenance. Sounds like slavery to me."
"No. This was my idea, and I chose it freely." A catch in her voice revealed details she had not disclosed that made the situation less of a decision than it seemed. “I gave the offer to the overlord. For the price of protection, I would heal his soldiers, or any others he asked, as I could."
"An agreement no sane man could refuse. My lady, you could have had much more. At the least, your freedom."
Genevra shuddered, and a bit of pain trickled back into the wound. "If you’re offering me a job in Alyndar, the answer is no. I’m comfortable here."
"I’m only a squire, lowborn, and not authorized to make deals for the king, nor even for myself." Nightfall did not have to feign his earnestness now. "In fact, only between us, I would warn you never to join an alliance with Alyndar. The king’s chancellor, Gilleran, is a sorcerer of the worst kind."
Genevra bit her lip, still coiled, and the twinge of pain that accompanied her lapse remained. "Thank you for the warning, Sudian. Sorcerers don’t take well to tipsters. I understand your loyalty to your master, but why risk your life for me?"
Wriggling further into Genevra’s confidence, Nightfall constructed a story. "Any lessening of a sorcerer’s power makes the world better. My sister has a birth skill. It’s to her benefit for me to identify the sorcerers and not to know her exact location at any time." The Healer’s taut nervousness goaded Nightfall to search for its source. "I’m not a sorcerer, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’ve no skills I didn’t come by honestly and few enough of those. The guard can tell you I didn’t question your movements… and I won’t."
Genevra laughed stiffly, her manner loosening only slightly. "I’m not worried about you. First, a sorcerer your size would fall quick prey to others. Second, I like you, and no compassionless killer could make me feel comfortable in his presence. Third, if I believe the prince’s story, and I do, no one could fake the devotion you’ve shown your master."
Nightfall wondered how Genevra would feel if she knew she was mistaken on all three counts. He put the clues together and believed he had found the answer. Fear had driven Genevra to exchange freedom for security, and that fear went deeper than vague possibility. "You’re being hunted, aren’t you? I mean specifically.”
Genevra spasmed with such force the contact sent pain spearing through Nightfall’s leg. Surprised, he jerked away, and the movement restored the Healer’s composure quickly enough that the guards did not interfere.
"I’m sorry," she said, tears Welling in her green eyes. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."
"That’s all right." Nightfall’s words emerged more choked than he intended. He rubbed at the area around the wound. Despite the pain, it had partially healed, the muscle approximated and only the tear in the skin remaining.
Genevra gestured him back in place. "I’m sorry. I just can’t help remembering…" She trailed off, the tears now rolling across, her cheeks.
Nightfall reached for Genevra, memory of his youth strong within him. The difference between the nights he cried alone and those that Dyfrin held him seemed the size of continent and heavens together.
Blades rasped from sheaths. Nightfall froze, rolling his eyes to a circle of swords in the hands of alert Delforian sentries. From habit, he measured distances and competence, not liking his odds.
"I’m fine," Genevra said, voice weak from crying. "He’s harmless."
"You’re certain, Healer?" one pressed. "Don’t lie under menace. We can run him through before he can carry out any threat against you."
Nightfall did not so much as breathe, convinced that the guard had spoken truth. Here, it seemed, even guile would fail him.
"I’m certain. Leave him go."
The swords retreated, then returned to sheaths, to Nightfall’s infinite relief. He recovered instantly, but stuck with the masquerade of young squire. He moved back to his place, withdrawing into himself and hoping, his silence looked stunned. Genevra returned to lavvey. "I’m really sorry. About the pain and the bared steel."
"Quite… all right? Nightfall balanced fear with gallantry. He quoted Prince Edward, "No harm was done.”
"It’s just, well, I saw a sorcerer tear a gift from a victim. That memory is agony that never dwindles."
The information attracted and repulsed at once, but the need for details of the sorcerers’ ritual won out. Knowing the intricacies would make it far easier to escape, and the understanding might shed some insight into how to pluck the murderers from a crowd. "Tell me about it."
"No." Genevra replied so fast she nearly obscured the end of Nightfall’s request.
"The knowledge might help my sister. And others like her and like you. Maybe I can even find a way to rid the world of whoever’s stalking you. It’s about time someone hunted the hunters." It was a hollow consideration, falling far short of a promise. Even as Nightfall, he had never dared to challenge sorcerers. Nearly every one kept his ghastly talent well-hidden and his powers unpredictable. It had seemed simpler and wiser to avoid them.
Nevertheless, Genevra found hope in Nightfall’s words. "About a year ago, I got work dancing at a hall down in Noshtillan. Nothing to complain about. Old Uber treated us pretty good given Noshtill’s just shy of slave country.” Genevra did not continue her healing, obviously concerned that flip-flopping emotions might cause her to hurt him again. "When a show didn’t go the best, he’d threaten to replace us all with bought girls, but he didn’t mean it." The Healer smiled nervously, humor shaded by fear. “Uber’d travel a lot to dance halls in other towns. Whenever he’d see something he liked, he’d bring back girls to teach it to us." She glanced at Nightfall, apparently to ascertain his reaction to the story so far.
Nightfall gave his attention fully, clinging to every word. He nodded encouragement for Genevra to continue.
"’bout three months ago, he brought back this Nemixite. Good dancer. She taught us a mass of new moves, nice ones, too. Some of them Uber brings back get standoffish thinking they’re so much better because someone brought them to teach. This one was real nice. We got to be friends." Genevra considered, chewing on her lower lip so persistently, Nightfall felt certain it would soon start to bleed. "So anyway, one day I go to see her to ask her about some moves. She didn’t have no private signal out, so I just went in without knocking.” She swallowed hard, suppressing major signs of distress that might attract the guards but unable to keep a tremor from her hands. "First thing I see is…" She closed her eyes.
Nightfall glanced between the sentries. Keeping his movement deliberate and without threat, he caught Genevra’s hand and gave a comforting squeeze. The Delforians huddled and stared, their expressions hard, but they did not interfere.
"A man. A stranger." Genevra’s fingers winched around Nightfall’s tight enough to hurt even after the healing. He appreciated her decision not to try to use her natal ability and speak at once. She looked at him, eyes moist with distress. "He lay on the floor, his back arched, his face twisted in pain like nothing I had ever seen. He was bleeding." Her grip lessened slightly. "I don’t know what l was thinking. Nothing, I guess. I reached to help him instinctively and touched his leg." She made an involuntary noise of anguish, soft as a whispered whine. "That pain, I can’t describe it." Despite her denial, she attempted to do so. "It went deep, to the core. I felt as if I touched his very soul. He had a birth-gift of some sort, and agony had brought it to the surface. A force like a dull knife was hacking the talent from him, and the pain only brought the gift more fully to the front." Genevra made another wordless sound, this time more of a sob.