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his face, but he had to know Daks was right.

“I’m going to be okay,” Daks continued, closing the distance between them to cup Ravi’s cheek. “I’m not any happier about crossing over again than you are, but I’ll be quicker and less noticeable on my own.”

“You’re barely healed,” Ravi protested weakly.

“I’m healed enough. It’s just a boat ride. I’ll ride over, find out what happened to Shura, and ride back. No one’s looking for me in Traget, and I’ll feel that much better knowing you’re tucked up safe and comfortable here. Do it for me, okay?”

Daks fluttered his eyelashes for dramatic effect, and Ravi’s lips twisted sourly. He glared at Daks for a few beats before he huffed out a breath and folded his arms across his chest.

“You better come back, and quickly. You still have to get me to that magic school you’ve been bragging about,” he huffed.

“I will,” Daks replied with a grin. “There and back again… that’s it. And—”

Ravi clapped a hand over Daks’s mouth. “Don’t you dare say a single word about how easy it will be or ‘with any you-know-what,’ or I swear to the gods I’ll deck you.”

Since he had been about to say something along those lines, he wisely kept his mouth shut when Ravi removed his hand.

“Come on,” Ravi ordered as he spun on his heel and headed back to the boatman. “Let’s get this over with and go back to the inn. I’m tired and hungry.”

Chapter Fourteen

RAVI DIDN’T accompany Daks down to the river the next morning. They said their goodbyes without words while they were still in bed, Daks insisting Ravi naked and freshly fucked was the picture he wanted to take with him over the day or two they’d be separated.

Ravi hadn’t argued; he wasn’t sure why now. It probably had something to do with Daks’s admittedly impressive skills in the bedroom. Daks might be an impetuous walking disaster anytime other than when he was fighting or fucking, but damned if he didn’t make up for it.

Daks had kept him up half the night—literally and figuratively—possibly to distract himself as much as Ravi. It had worked… mostly. But now that Ravi was alone, the anxiety he’d managed to ignore for hours came back full force. He tried to tell himself he was being stupid and overly dramatic. His emotions were all over the place because of the idiot now trying to get himself killed… again. If he’d ever needed a reminder that real life was nothing like the stories he loved, the gods were making it perfectly clear to him now. He and Daks had made it out of Rassa. They’d survived a flood together. He should have his happily-ever-after by now, shouldn’t he?

Unable to stand the close confines of their room any longer, Ravi got dressed and headed down into the slowly awakening inn. Without being asked, Eben brought him a light breakfast, which Ravi managed to eat half of before his stomach threatened mutiny. He pushed the remainder around his plate while he eavesdropped on the steadily increasing conversations around him as the common room filled. He heard smatterings of Sambaran, trade tongue, and even a little Rassan, the latter making his heart constrict with a longing he hadn’t expected. Alone in a foreign kingdom, without Daks’s seemingly endless energy to distract him, all that he’d sacrificed started hitting home.

He wasn’t given much choice in the matter. If he hadn’t left his old life, the Brotherhood would have taken it from him eventually. But still, he could mourn just a little, in private, all that he’d left behind. He missed Vic and the others terribly.

“Daks won’t be too happy if I let you waste away to nothing while he’s gone,” Eben said gruffly as he held out a hand for Ravi’s plate.

“Sorry. I’m not particularly hungry today, I guess.”

“You’re not ill, are you?”

“No.”

Ravi tried to think of something else to say but came up empty. He shifted uncomfortably under Eben’s scrutiny.

“He’ll be back, you know,” Eben finally said. “Like weeds in the cobbles, that one always springs back, no matter how many times you think he’s gone for good.”

Ravi’s lips curved fondly at that. “Have you known him long?”

“Ten years or so, I guess. He comes through at least a couple of times a year on his way to Samet or back up to Scholoveld. We’re not close, mind, but he’s the type of man that leaves an impression.”

Ravi’s smile widened. “He is.”

“He told me to take care of you while he’s gone, so if you need anything, food, drink, more clothes, another hour in the bath house, you just let me know.”

“I don’t have any coin for such things,” Ravi admitted.

Eben grinned, baring slightly crooked teeth behind his beard. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll be billing the Scholomagi. They may be tight-fisted, covetous old bastards, but they always pay their debts. I have a letter of approval from Agent Daks that’ll cover everything you might need, here and on the road to Scholoveld—” He cut off with a grimace and shrugged apologetically. “Only if you need it, that is.”

Ravi frowned as Eben’s words sunk in. “If I need…? Wait, you mean if I need to go the rest of the way alone?”

Eben cringed. “I just meant you’re taken care of, no matter what.”

If the man had hoped to ease Ravi’s anxieties, he’d done a crap job of it, but Ravi forced a smile and nodded. “Thanks.”

“Just, uh, let me or one of the others know. Whatever you need,” he finished awkwardly as he backed away.

Ravi returned to their room and started rummaging through their belongings to see if Daks had left any other notes or provisions behind, but he found nothing, and he rolled his eyes at himself. What had he been expecting? A romantic farewell letter urging Ravi to go on without him should he never return? Declarations of undying love? A single rose?

Sometimes he thought those stories he loved as a child had

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