Page 14 of Winter's Echo
I waited, but it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate. I pushed myself off the bed and unhooked my cloak. It felt weirdlyintimate to be taking off clothing in a room with a male, even if it was just my cloak.
He must have noticed my hesitation because he tapped me on the shoulder.
“You’ve nothing to fear from me, Amarya.”
I looked over my shoulder and saw the truth in his eyes. I nodded once, then turned back and carefully folded my cloak over the foot of the bed.
“Do you know where they want to go?” I asked him as I sat back down again. I pulled the leather from the bottom of my braid and started to loosen it as I waited for him to answer.
“North.”
My sigh of exasperation made his lips twitch, but he lay back on the bed, his knees pulled up to allow the bed to accommodate them, his feet just clear of the edge.
“Yes, they told me yesterday, north. Northwhere?”
“You’re better hearing it from the captain.”
My fingers stilled. “Why?” I asked hesitantly. “Is it bad?”
He grunted. “All of Crystallese seems to be bad. It’s always fucking snowing.”
I laughed. “Not always,” I corrected. “There are three to four weeks after the Herag Solstice when the snow stops.” I resumed loosening my braid, shaking my dark hair free. “And closer to the southern border, it’s not as bad. Where Glassfyr is.”
Glassfyr. The city the old kings had built so high into the mountain that its towers caught the light and threw it back like broken glass, blazing cold in the dark.
The capital of Crystallese, a place I’d never been to and never wanted to go. One of the Institutes of the Verei Kahn was in Glassfyr.
Baxley watched me as I pulled a worn, cracked hairbrush from my pack and quickly brushed my hair. He said nothing asI rebraided it, tying it swiftly and tossing the long braid over my shoulder.
“Your hair’s very long for a trailfinder.”
I frowned. “Is it?”
He shook his head. “I assumed it’d be shorter.”
“When the cold is bitter, sometimes long hair can serve as a second neck warmer,” I told him honestly.
He nodded as if that made sense, then sat up. I fought back a giggle as he tried to get comfortable. He stood in disgust. “Does she have better beds?” He jerked his thumb as if Eilenora’s inn were right there.
“Mites,” I told him, picking at my nail. I held my hands out in front of me, the skin white, and the nails broken. I held them up to Baxley. “Well, they aren’t the hands of a lady, are they?” I said with a loud sigh.
He showed me his own. The tattoos covered most of it, but his skin was darker than mine, almost golden. He flipped his hands palm up and turned them over again. His hands were rough, with some calluses, but his nails were kept short and neat.
“Hands tell the truth of a person. Your hands say you work hard for your living.” He looked at the door. “The ale here is good. Coming?”
It was that or sit in the room and wallow in the fact I’d been caught.
“I’ll wash my face first,” I told him.
“I’ll be outside.”
Because while he wasn’tthatbad, he was still my own personal guard, or mercenary, and I was still the person he was guarding for coin.
The water was at room temperature and warmer than what I’d been washing my face with for a few weeks, so it felt good. I’d have given a silver coin, maybe two, if there’d been a bathingroom available, but there wasn’t. The Gilded Swan had one, but I’d rather walk around caked in mud, snow, and ice than pay that woman a single coin.
With a clean face and hair brushed and freshly braided, I checked my tunic for stains. After making sure I had my knives — one at my hip, one in my boot, and one on my thigh — I opened the door.
Baxley leaned against the wall, one foot braced behind him, head tipped back, eyes closed as he waited.
