Seraiah eyed Ren's outstretched hand, his leather glove concealing the shadows she knew wreathed his fingers. "I have one condition first."

Kestrel gave her an almost imperceptible nod, likely already knowing what she was going to ask for.

Ren’s smile tightened, but it didn't drop. "Name it. I’ll agree if it’s within my power."

She didn’t entirely trust his motives even after his story about his sister, but if he could do this one thing, she’d work with him.

"Remove the mark."

"Fine." He wiggled his fingers. "Deal?"

Seraiah held his gaze, searching for any sign of deception. When she found none, she placed her hand in his. "Deal."

Ren grinned and when she tried to take her hand back, he didn't let go. Instead, he tugged, pulling her closer across the small table.

He planted one elbow and leaned close to her ear. The edge of the table cut into her middle as he whispered, “You should know I’ve never removed a mark before. I’m not sure it can be done.”

She’d reached for her blade the second he hadn’t let her go, and now she brought it up to the exposed skin of his neck.

“Then you better figure it out, or the deal is off,” she whispered back before shoving him hard.

Ren’s smile morphed into a smirk as he settled back into his seat. “I have to touch it to remove it.”

Seraiah scowled at him, but swept her hair to the side, exposing her neck. She didn’t set her blade down.

“If it’s all right with you, I think I’m going to go wait outside,” Kestrel announced. Seraiah had nearly forgotten she was there. “Let me know when this is over.”

"Sure," Ren said. "Remember not to wander too far, or you will trip the wards." His eyes never left Seraiah's face.

The door opened and shut behind Kestrel as she abandoned Seraiah to Ren. Without her there to mediate, Seraiah might just stab the necromancer. Perhaps that had been Kestrel’s plan all along.

"Now, where were we?" Ren murmured. He pushed his chair back and stood, gesturing for her to join him.

Seraiah took her time coming around the table, dagger clasped firmly in her hand. She stopped an arms-length from him.

Ren’s mouth twitched as he stepped forward, putting himself in her space and well within striking distance. Once again, she caught the scent of lemon verbena.

Slowly, one by one, Ren tugged at the fingers of his glove—the right one this time. Once free, he lifted his shadow hand to her neck.

It took all of Seraiah’s self-control not to flinch away from him.

His fingers were cool as Ren traced them over her skin, but not icy like they had been the first time she’d felt his touch.

As he studied the mark, dragging his fingers down the column of her throat, Seraiah studied him. This close, she could see that his brown eyes were flecked with gold, and there was a sprinkle of freckles over the bridge of his nose. He had a faded scar on his chin, and she wondered how he had gotten it. Probably tripped and fell as a child, she mused.

A sudden, sharp stab of pain had her jerking back.

Ren’s other hand snaked around the back of her head. "Hold still," he ordered, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. There was a tinge of sympathy in his gaze. "I think it's working." His focus returned to her neck, eyes narrowing in concentration.

"You think it's working?” Seraiah huffed. “It feels like you are peeling my skin off!"

"I could leave it alone if you would prefer."

"No," she ground out through gritted teeth. "I want it gone."

"Then stop complaining."

Seraiah glared at him, but held still.

After a few more minutes, the pain finally stopped, and Ren stepped back, taking the scent of lemon verbena with him.

She couldn't help but notice the shadows on his arm had snaked their way higher before he quickly pulled his sleeve down, hiding it from her view.

"There,” he said. “It's not completely gone, but it's the best I can do for now." In quick motions, he pulled his glove back on.

Seraiah crossed her arms over her chest as she watched him. "If it's not gone, that means you can still track me, and what's to stop it from growing again?"

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"I won't. You have my word.”

“Which could be meaningless for all I know,” Seraiah said. She slipped her dagger back into its sheath and gently touched her neck. Everything felt normal, but then again, it always had. She wouldn’t know if he was telling the truth until she saw her reflection or got Kestrel to confirm it for her.

“Guess you’ll have to take that chance. The mark is weak enough now that unless either of us feeds it, it shouldn’t change.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by feeding it, but she didn’t want to ask. He’d likely only give her some smart answer that didn’t tell her anything.

Turning on her heel, Seraiah went in search of Kestrel.

----------------------------------------

"Everything good?" Kestrel asked, looking up at Seraiah as she approached. Kestrel was seated on a stump with one foot propped on the remains of a fallen log. In her hand was one of her many knives, but she tucked it away as Seraiah joined her.

"He said it's mostly gone, but I couldn’t confirm for myself. Was he telling the truth?" She tilted her head to give Kestrel a better view.

“What, the man doesn’t own a mirror?” Kestrel asked, rising to her feet.

Seraiah didn’t tell her she’d been too proud to ask him for one.

Kestrel leaned in and dragged a finger over Seraiah’s skin.

“Well?” Seraiah asked, growing impatient in the long silence.

Kestrel shrugged. “It looks the same as the day he first touched you. I can barely see anything.”

"But there is still something there."

Kestrel nodded. "Faintly and only if you know what to look for. It's much better than it was before. Now it’s kind of like a smear of ash you forgot to wipe off.”

Seraiah supposed looking dirty was better than walking around with a giant strange looking tattoo. A little dirt could be excused, but a tattoo drew questions.

“Does this mean we are free to continue on our way?” Kestrel asked.

“As soon as he takes the wards down,” she said, “assuming he lets us go.”

"I didn’t have any intention of stopping you, but it would be nice to know what you have planned, seeing as to how we’re working together now."

Seraiah stiffened at the sound of Ren's voice. She hadn't realized he’d followed her outside. "If I wanted you to know, I would have told you,” she said.

"In case you are unfamiliar, that’s not how alliances work. I share and you share. Together, we achieve our common goal. It won’t work if the information sharing is only one-sided, or are you planning to renege on our deal?"

“We are not,” Kestrel said.

Seraiah pursed her lips and said nothing.

Kestrel cleared her throat and gave her a pointed look.

“Fine.” Seraiah relented. “The two of us will be going to Metrius.” She didn’t turn to look at him.

"The gnome city? Odd destination. What for?"

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“A friend of ours passed away. We’re visiting his home to tell his loved ones,” Kestrel said. “We’re also hoping for news of Nyrene and trying to raise an army.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I think that’s everything for now.”

Seraiah frowned. He didn’t need to know all that. They could have left it at visiting Metrius.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ren said. He must have moved closer because she caught the scent of lemon verbena again. “And I’ll wish you luck on getting the gnomes’ support in taking back your city. You’ll need it if you want them to leave the underground. In my opinion, you’d be better off negotiating with the faeries, or so I’ve heard.”

Seraiah made a face, even though Kestrel was the only one who could see it. “No one asked for your opinion,” she said. She had every intention of paying a visit to the fae as well, but he didn’t need to know that, especially when she hadn’t told Kestrel yet.

“And what do you intend to do?” Kestrel asked, as though Seraiah hadn’t spoken.

“Depends on what your answers are to my questions,” Ren said.

He stepped into Seraiah’s peripheral vision, forcing her to make space for him or brush shoulders.

She moved away, but she wasn’t happy about it. “We don’t have to answer anything,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

Kestrel sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, a gesture Seraiah recognized from whenever she was frustrated with Kai.

“Allies, remember?” Ren said.

“What sorts of questions did you have?” Kestrel asked.

She wished Kestrel would take her side. Seraiah didn’t understand how Kestrel was so willing to trust him when he had been with the mages—working with Gavaran—even if he said there were extenuating circumstances.

“Where is Sterling now, and what is her condition?”

Seraiah opened her mouth to protest, but Kestrel cut her off with a warning look.

“She is in Daralis with her brother. Safe as far as we know.”

“I meant what is her condition in relation to the shadows. Do they appear frequently? Does she use her magic?”

The two of them looked at her.

Grudgingly, Seraiah said, “The shadows were infrequent. I can only recall two instances I remember seeing them.”

“That’s a good sign, then. And her magic?”

“When we left, she still hadn’t been able to summon anything, but they practice frequently.

Ren frowned. “It would be better if they didn’t.”

“Why’s that?” Kestrel asked. “We need her magic. If we want to take back Nyrene, we need her to master her power.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Ren said, “but the more she uses her magic, the more likely she is to feed the shadows.”

“Explain,” Seraiah demanded, unconsciously leaning toward him.

“It’s only a theory, but I think the shadows you see in her eyes are similar to mine, and now yours.” He gestured to her. “I don’t fully understand them myself, but they appear to feed on our magic as best I can tell. If you’re sure she is safe for now, I’d like to do more research on them and check in on the other mages from my group. I don’t imagine they’ll be happy with me, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“She’s as safe as she can be, I think,” Kestrel said, “and given they plan to spend time in Daralis, I don’t imagine they’ll be working on her magic.”

“Good, good. Then I’ll take down the wards, and we can go our separate ways.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” Seraiah said. “If you find something, how will we know? How do we find you again?” Not that she wanted to see him again, but if he found answers that could help Sterling, she’d suffer his presence.

“Well, there is one way,” he said, eyes going to her neck.

She glared at him. “Without using the mark.”

“You could always return here. As a gesture of goodwill, I can have the wards recognize you, so you don’t need me to find the cabin.”

“And if you’re not here?”

“I’ll return.”

She waited, but he didn’t offer anything else.

“Good enough for me,” Kestrel said. “If we miss each other, we can always leave a note.”

“Of course,” Ren said. “Now let me go see to those wards unless you have any other questions.”

“No, that will be all,” Seraiah said.

He sketched a mocking bow to her and retreated into the trees.

Seraiah glared at the spot where he’d disappeared. She didn’t understand how Sterling had made friends with him because she really hated that necromancer.

“Come on,” Kestrel said, elbowing her in the ribs. “Let’s get out of here before you murder someone.”