Releasing her grip, Iona stepped back, just out of reach in the small room. Her eyes glittered mischievously. But that was a ruse, Vash knew. Iona was a woman of singular focus. Even if she was enjoying the moment, she was calculating several variables and all of them had to do with her survival or the survival of the Eth Mitaan.
Vash slowly got to his feet, rubbing his wrist. He wanted to rush to her, take her in his arms, breathe in her scent, but he held back. There were questions he needed answered first. “Where have you been? What happened?”
Iona’s face dropped slightly. “Things didn’t go well at the Duke’s Palace. My team got separated and cut off, and we couldn’t make it to you in time. I’m sorry.”
The memory of Quin lying on that balcony, eyes wide in terror as she struggled for one more breath, flashed in Vash’s mind. A growing pool of blood surrounding her. Vash could only lie there and watch while the guards pummeled him with mailed fists and bound him like a trussed pig. He closed his eyes and pushed the memory away. When he opened them again, Iona was looking at him with concern.
Is she worried about my well-being? Vash thought. Or does she wonder if she can trust me?
“Byar?” Vash asked, pushing aside the thought for now.
“He’s alive.” Iona said. “Sends his regrets, but he can’t move freely right now. He figured you’d rather see me anyhow.”
“I do prefer your face to his,” Vash admitted. “Beards just do nothing for me.”
Iona gave him another of her rare smiles. “I’m glad you made it out, Sparrow.”
Vash felt his heart race. Iona never liked his given name. Her elvish was too good to ignore the oddness of it. Eth Mitaan took code names to use with one another in the field, once the masks were on. Iona liked to give her students the names of birds. She’d called him Sparrow from the first day that he’d stumbled into Ragpicker’s Hollow. That she almost never called him by any other name gave him a warm feeling. It was her claim on him, on his heart, even when they weren’t able to express it openly. “I was worried about you. The Guard kept any news of you or Byar away from us. I thought that since they weren’t bragging they’d killed or captured the great Nightingale that you’d escaped.”
“It was a near thing.” Iona said. “I had to jump from one of the river towers and swim to the far side. I took a crossbow bolt to the shoulder. Luckily, my armor held, and it was just a scratch. Bled like hell, though. Then I spent a day in the sewers playing hide-and-seek with the Guard and the Inquisition. Finally caught up with Byar and the other survivors yesterday morning. That’s when I heard about you and your team.”
Vash looked away, guilt rising inside him. Knowing there was nothing he could have done, but feeling the weight and pain of it, anyway. They were his team, his responsibility.
“No one blames you.” Iona said, pulling Vash’s attention back. “You were in the worst position when things went wrong. It’s a miracle that you survived.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Vash sighed. He had been thinking it over while Corwin and Jabez had drunk themselves foolish. “They knew I was Sparrow, and they knew that you and I are close. They were going to execute me, hoping you would try some sort of foolish rescue.”
This time, Iona looked away. Vash felt his heart sink a bit. He’d known the likely truth, but he didn’t want to admit it. No one was coming, not even her.
“We couldn’t risk it.” Iona said softly. “We had lost too many already.”
“I suppose Byar was right—“ Vash started.
“It was my call, Sparrow.” Iona said. “I was the one who decided against attempting a rescue.”
Vash winced. The truth hurt, even if he had suspected as much. “We weren’t there to kill the Duke, were we?”
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“It would have been a pleasant side benefit. But, no, there was another mission.” Iona said, face neutral.
“Which was?”
“I can’t tell you that, Sparrow.” Iona said, and her voice actually sounded pained at that.
“Maybe after we regroup with the rest of the Eth Mitaan — “
“Sparrow.” Iona said gently, taking a step towards Vash. “We need to talk.”
The bottom fell out from beneath his soul. “I’m sure there’s some way to break the bond with the medallion. In the meantime, I can use soulmasking to confuse any trackers…”
Vash trailed off as he met Iona’s eyes. She stepped in close, her sapphire eyes holding a pain that her face hid. “We had a message from higher up. They want you in the Wayfarers.”
“What?” Vash’s brows wrinkled in confusion. “Why? What could I possibly do here?”
“I don’t know.” Iona said, placating. “Things are very much in flux right now. The Eth Mitaan are leaving the south, the Vanan pure-bloods know we’re here and they’re sending Eth Sakara to root us out. We have some contacts in Vinya Esain among the Kaeleshi. For pure-bloods, they’re not so bad.”
“How will I find you?” Vash asked, imploring her to make sense. “What am I supposed to do?”
She stepped forward and gently laid her hands on his chest. “We will find you. The Wayfarers aren’t the only ones who have a bond on your soul. For now, all I know is that there is something big on the horizon and the only way for us to get close is to have someone in the Wayfarers. That someone is you.”
Vash searched her eyes, trying to control the panic and fear that he was feeling. They’re not abandoning me. It’s just another mission. Just another task.
“Vash,” Iona said, laying a hand on his cheek and holding his gaze, “I was the one who told Corwin about you. We needed an Eth Mitaan close to the Wayfarers, and it was the only way to save your life. I need you to trust me.”
“I want to.” Vash said, unconsciously pressing his cheek into her hand. The fighting callouses on her palm and fingers contrasted with the warm softness of her touch. “I just don’t know how I can do this.”
Iona quirked a smile. “You’re my Sparrow. Of course you can do this.”
Vash bent his neck slightly and kissed her. His arms went around her waist and he marveled at how delicate she felt, like a fragile Nightingale, and not the deadly assassin that he knew her to be. He heard her sharp intake of breath and felt her press herself into him. The hand on his cheek traveled up and her fingers ran through his dark hair. Her other arm went around his neck. She pulled him into her; the kiss intensifying. Her lips parted beneath his and he felt her tongue seek his.
He breathed in her scent as he held her close, sharp and spicy, with notes of leather and oiled metal. Underneath it all was the light lavender scent of the soap she used. The scent that Byar had chided her time and again would give her away, but she had continued to use ever since Vash had told her he loved it. He wanted to sweep her up and put her on his narrow bed. Wanted to undo the complex buckles of her Eth Mitaan leathers and seek the soft curves underneath. He needed her, but he knew tonight it would not happen.
All too soon, Iona pulled back, breaking the kiss. Her forehead resting against Vash’s, she sighed deeply. “We need you to do this, Sparrow. I need you to do this.”
The ache in his heart was almost overwhelming, but Vash steeled himself against sorrow. “I will do all that I can. But to be honest, I’m not so sure how well I am going to do with these Wayfarers. Corwin — well, he’s Corwin, a sheepdog that walks like a human, loyal, affable, and not the brightest star in the sky. Jabez…I really don’t know what to think about him. I have little experience with dwarves. No way to know if he’s a fool or just stubborn. Not to mention that the Wayfarers as an organization seem disorganized, floundering. Too caught up in politics, too fractured.”
Iona took a step back to look in his eyes. “We need you to make your team better. Get yourselves noticed. You’re one of the Masked Ones. Surely it can’t be that hard to learn to be an adventurer.”
Vash couldn’t help but smile. “I may not deserve your faith, but I appreciate it.”
She gave him another smile. This one was fond, warm. A smile from the heart. “I know you can do this. Don’t worry, we will be watching.”
Suddenly, Iona darted forward, giving him another deep, hungry kiss. Vash felt his hunger for her rising to a burning need. But, as quick as it began, the kiss was over. Iona backed away. Somehow, they had gotten turned around and she was near the door. She gave him one last smile before pulling her mask and hood back into place.
The expressionless silver-white wood changed Iona’s entire demeanor. She was now the deadly Nightingale, not the warm, complicated woman from a few moments before. Vash felt a surge of mana that was quickly suppressed. The shadows gathered around Iona’s form until she was just another vague shape in the dim moonlight. He could barely feel the disturbance in the room’s mana when she moved away. The door opened for a moment, then she was gone.
Vash sat down heavily on his cot. Not only am I bound to the Wayfarers, I can’t go back to the Eth Mitaan even if I could.
A wave of loneliness swept over him. He was alone again, left with only with vague promises and the fading scent of lavender.