“The blacksmith here does good work and I want to get some new bolt heads,” Singmij said.

Cheeyt looked up. It was still several hours until dusk. This town didn’t offer an inn despite the number of travelers coming through—though Cheeyt wasn’t fond of the idea of an inn after their travels, anyway—so they had set up their camp outside of the town, along with several other groups of travelers.

Tseetsaa was huddled next to Sinchach, learning more sigils while Tajak hovered nearby. Cheeyt wasn’t sure if Sinchach was determined not to be caught unprepared again, or if he was just excited to share his knowledge. He seemed to be the type to want everyone to know how smart he was.

Kachaark was had just finished going over the wagon, while Nuttulch and Saknuu had sprawled out on the ground for a nap before their watch that night. Housecat-sized Chesfi was similarly sprawled across several of the bedrolls in the wagon. Cheeyt hadn’t liked her being in full sight of anyone who passed their camp, but apparently it was considered rude for her to use her magic to hide herself while in territory of one of the Nengmekian Puca clans.

Nuliyaa and Miyt had returned with their supplies and were arranging the sacks in the wagon. They had nothing unexpected to report from the vendors.

Cheeyt had been planning to enjoy some relative peace after the last few weeks. “Where is the blacksmith?”

“Back across the bridge.” Singmij motioned to the other side of the river.

The side of the river that wasn’t Nengmekian soil. Cheeyt hadn’t missed how tensely the human and Puca guards had watched the travelers as they crossed. This side of the river might be mostly safe. Everyone seemed to know the same couldn’t be said for back across the bridge.

“You shouldn’t go by yourself.” Cheeyt wanted to say she couldn’t go at all, but Singmij didn’t work for the company and more crossbow bolts probably would be good. She certainly hadn’t expected to need so many, and they hadn’t recovered even a quarter of what had been used.

“Then come with me. We aren’t leaving them undefended.” Singmij nodded at their own people, then at the neighboring camp where a company Cheeyt was friendly with had settled while their merchant clients traded in the market.

Cheeyt hesitated, but Singmij’s eyes were warm, inviting, and a little flirtatious. She was right—they were the safest they’d been since the docks of Wumaltsmaas.

“Let me tell everyone we’re going.”

A few minutes later, they joined the people in line to cross the bridge. It was narrow, made of a speckled yellow stone, and arced over the water from gate house to gate house. A mage lamp on the roofs of the gate houses warned travelers if the bridges were closed.Though it didn’t seem Spires was operating the gate house on the city-state’s side of the bridge. The gates closed at full dark, so would be open for at least another couple of hours.

At the open gates, Cheeyt showed her Guild mark to the guard while Singmij flashed a square medallion that had the guards eyeing her as they passed. They were waved through.

“What’s that about?” Cheeyt asked. She’d seen Singmij show the medallion when they’d arrived earlier, but the crossing had been too hectic to ask.

“They don’t see many diplomatic emblems out this way, I imagine.” Singmij shrugged. “It’s not scoured, so they know to leave me be.”

“Scoured?”

“An enchantment. If you were to take this from me or if I was removed from service, it would appear damaged to anyone with their own medallions.”

“The mages can do that, but they still can’t make completely waterproof boots.” Cheeyt shook her head.

“I know.” They grinned at each other and Cheeyt felt like an apprentice again with her first crush.

The blacksmith had plenty of bolt heads for them and they were heading back faster than Cheeyt had hoped for, even after having to wait a few minutes for the blacksmith to sharpen the hoof knife Kachaark had sent with them. Cheeyt itched to get back to their camp, but Singmij seemed to be taking advantage of the spare time to stroll along the street and peruse some of the vendors.

“Have you had these before?” Singmij motioned to a stall where the owner was scooping roasted, candied nuts.

Cheeyt couldn’t remember the name of the treat, but she remembered that it was popular in Nengmek. “Of course I have. I’ve been to your country many times before.”

“I’ve missed them.” Singmij stopped in front of the stall and Cheeyt shrugged. They still had plenty of time before the bridge closed.

Singmij spun back around, smile wide as she dipped her hand into the nuts. Then she froze before ducking her head and falling back to Cheeyt’s side. “Don’t turn around,” she said.

“What is it?”

“I recognize one of the men across the street.” She offered the nuts. When Cheeyt didn’t move to take any, she shook the little bag. “Don’t act like you’re expecting an attack.” She chuckled. “I can tell your training stopped at guarding.”

“Who is he?”

“One of our attackers. From the first fight. I remember him because he nearly took my arm off.”

Cheeyt forced herself to take a handful of the nuts. Singmij was right—she’d never been in a situation like this before. “Has he seen us?”

“I don’t think so.” Singmij sighed. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to say.”

“You can’t—”

“I have to. Tracking down the poachers is my job. We have had little luck finding their operation in Wumaltsmaas. If I can gather any information while I’m here, I have to do it.”

“What do you want to do?”

Singmij looked her over. “You don’t have to come with me,” she said. “You can go back over the bridge and focus on your own job.”

Cheeyt would never forgive herself if something happened to Singmij today. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

With a smile, Singmij said, “Let’s follow him.”

She set off in a stroll, not seeming to be going anywhere in particular. They drifted along the street as the man walked. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry.

“Don’t watch him so intently,” Singmij murmured as they wandered from vendor to vendor. “We’re just people here to refresh our stores like everyone else.” The town here seemed to be a meeting place for those who lived outside of the Independent Cities. The road out of Spires didn’t stop at the bridge. Instead, it curved to follow up the river. The result was enough stalls to line the road and a light crowd of locals and travelers to visit those stalls.

Apparently Singmij didn’t see enough improvement in Cheeyt’s following ability, because she said, a grin tipping up the corners of her lips, “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Pretend you actually are shopping.”

“Oh.” Cheeyt dragged her eyes away from the road to look at the fabric in the stall in front of them.

“This is a nice sturdy wool here.” Singmij lifted the corner of a reddish-brown.

“For the two weeks I would be able to wear it?” Cheeyt shook her head. “My cloak is enough for most days.”

Singmij chuckled. “If you were Nengmekian, you would not be complaining of warmth.” Then she reached for a pair of rag dolls, her eyes softening.

“I’ll take these,” she said to the seller.

When the coins were exchanged and the dolls tucked into a pocket inside of Singmij’s coat, Cheeyt asked hesitantly, “You have children?”

“Two daughters.” The other woman smiled. “My parents care for them when I am away.”

“Oh. That must be difficult.”

“It is.” Singmij took a deep breath. “When my husband lived, he was the one who traveled. I was in the city guard, so I was home outside of my shifts. Even then, I was still around if my family needed me.”

“Then why choose this work?”

“Money.” Her expression twisted with bitterness. “A city guard does not make as much as someone assigned to the diplomats. The person my husband worked for knew I was struggling and reached out when a position became available.”

“How old are they?”

“Seven and five.”

“I had no idea.”

“I don’t discuss them when I’m working.”

Cheeyt almost missed a step. Their relationship was just work. She’d been imagining the spark between them.

Singmij brushed her fingers across Cheeyt’s hand. “I hope you’ll have a chance to meet them one day.” Then, “We’re getting a bit too far behind. Let’s walk up a bit.”

“What if he goes into a tavern or inn?” Cheeyt asked, trying to keep her voice down.

“A drink and some food would be good,” Singmij said with a smile. Was that her response? Or an invitation?

The man glanced behind. Did he see them? Cheeyt wasn’t sure if he was looking in their direction or not. She turned toward the nearest vendor, taking in the assorted chairs crowding the space.

Singmij laughed at her expression. “This area is well known for its furniture crafters,” she said.

They were near the middle of the town where a number of tables had been set up in an open area with food sellers gathered at the edge. The man joined a group and someone passed him food.

“Food it is, then.” Singmij turned to the nearest seller.

“Why the food?” Cheeyt asked.

“We need to have a purpose here. We would be too noticeable if we simply stood around and no one would appreciate our taking a table if we have no food.” Singmij tilted her head. “And I, personally, am feeling a bit hungry.”

Their target settled into his meal and conversation as they chose a table where they weren’t near, but could see him easily enough.

“Do you think they’re involved?” Cheeyt asked.

“I don’t recognize any of them. Do you?”

She shook her head.

They finished their food as the man continued his conversation, his and his companions’ loud laughter booming over the tables as the light turned toward dark.

“How long is he going to be?” Cheeyt grumbled, eyeing the sun.

“If you want to return to the camp—”

“I’m not leaving you alone. If something happens, we’ll never know.”

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“Working alone isn’t my preference, but I have done this sort of thing before.”

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

One of the people buying food started yelling loudly at the person behind them and suddenly there was a crowd gathering around the tables, blocking their line of sight toward the man they’d been following.

“Time to move on, then.” Singmij stood. “Do you see him?”

“No.”

They pushed through the crowd, nearly getting their ears shouted in, and stopped at the edge. As they glanced around, Cheeyt asked, “Where to?” She didn’t want Singmij to lose the chance to investigate, but she wouldn’t mind if they decided to head back toward the bridge.

“I don’t—” Singmij’s voice carried her frustration.

“There!” Cheeyt realized she’d been too loud, but no one who glanced their way looked at them too closely. At least she hoped they didn’t.

They turned in the direction where she’d seen the back of his head and took to the opposite side of the road.

“It would be good if we could find a side route.” Singmij glanced between two buildings. The common house and the granary, it looked like. They were moving into the working side of town. There wouldn’t be many travelers to blend in with here.

But it didn’t matter because the man greeted a group of workers who were backing a wagon into what looked to be a storehouse and stepped into the building. The shadows were deep, especially with the lamps inside the storehouse so much stronger than the one above the wide doors. But there was just enough light for Cheeyt to make out something drawn on the boxes stacked inside the wagon. It looked like a producer’s mark.

“Let’s keep walking,” Singmij said, voice low. She threaded her arm through Cheeyt’s and they continued up the street.

“Did you see the emblem on the boxes in the wagon?” Cheeyt asked after they had passed.

“Yes.” Singmij’s brows had drawn together as she thought. “That’s enough for today, I think. We can—”

“You two!” At the shout, they looked over to see someone from the storehouse bearing down on them. Others around the building’s front were looking their way intently.

“You seemed awfully interested in our friend,” the woman said as she closed in, one of her hands closed around something that Cheeyt was fairly certain was probably a sigil.

Singmij shoved the woman hard enough for her to fall before snapping out, “River!” They took off, looping between buildings so much that Cheeyt would have been thoroughly lost if it wasn’t for the fact that she knew what a river smelled like.

Their run wasn’t about being quiet or avoiding notice. It was about getting to the river as fast as possible and away from the people following them. Though once they got to the river, Cheeyt didn’t know what they would do. It was full dark now. She could see the glow of the lamps at the top of the gatehouses.

“Can you swim?” Singmij asked when they reached the bank.

“Yes.” She eyed the water. Or, at least, she could swim in the river at Wumaltsmaas. The river at the delta moved much more slowly than this section of it did.

“In!” Singmij tore down the bank and dove in. Cheeyt hit the water seconds after.

It was cold. She pressed her lips closed at the shock of it, then kicked out to stay afloat. The water was moving even faster than she had anticipated. They were already getting pulled into the bridge’s shadow.

Something touched her leg and she kicked out. “It’s me,” Singmij said, pressing closer. “Hold on to me and try not to splash. I’m taking us to the bridge.”

She swam back toward the riverbank. Why would they be going away from their destination? But Cheeyt hung on to her waist grimly, moving her legs just enough to help propel them forward.

Shouts were coming from the bank, people wading into the water to search for them. It looked like they were still further back, close to where Cheeyt and Singmij had gone into the water, but some were following the bank’s edge, casting light back and forth over the water.

They reached the bridge support and Singmij pressed them against the cold, rough stone. “Grab on and stay still,” she said. “This isn’t going to work if you move very much.”

Cheeyt found a piece of slimy log just under the water’s surface. Hopefully there weren’t as many creatures that lived in the water up here as there were back home.

Singmij reached up and pressed a sigil against the bridge, then another to the water, chanting the spell quietly. That one finished, she laid another sigil on the water away from the first, chanted another spell, and released it, letting the water take the paper with the current.

“What—” Cheeyt started to ask, but Singmij shook her head.

They huddled under the bridge, listening to the search around them. The voices came closer.

“Check under the bridge,” someone instructed. Cheeyt gripped the log tighter as footsteps sounded down the bank. A light bounced around on the water, then directly in their direction.

She held her breath, preparing to duck back under the water. Whoever had that light had to be able to see them. They would have to test to see how long they could hold their breath while fighting the current. Would these people follow them across the river?

The light moved again, scanning under the bridge. “This way!” someone called. “They’re going down the river!”

Footsteps pounded up the bank as the light disappeared. They stayed frozen in the water for several long moments more.

“Magic?” Cheeyt asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Then she had to grit her teeth against the chattering her mouth wanted to do instead.

“Yes. I filled my kit before we left Wumaltsmaas and I always keep it with me.” She looked across the river. “Can you swim it? We must be quiet. I don’t know how long the illusion will last.”

“I’ll make it.” She didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t going to let this take her away from her family.

“Stay underwater and swim as quietly as you can,” Singmij said. “Watch me.” Her lips tipped up slightly. “The water where I’m from is even colder than here.”

They pushed away from the bridge support.

She was so cold. Her motions were starting to get sluggish when Singmij reached back and dragged her onto the Nengmekian side of the river. Lifting her head, she blinked at the ground in front of them and stumbled to her feet.

They looked to be beyond the village boundary. Even beyond the travelers’ camp outside the village. Cheeyt glanced over her shoulder. Lamps bounced on the opposite bank and she could just barely make out their words. “We should go before they see us.”

“Agreed.” They picked their way up the bank and into the field above. Cheeyt would have been happier with more trees—whoever had cleared this land had left barely enough to shade the bank. But they heard nothing as they worked their way from tree trunk to tree trunk back up the river toward the bridge’s light.

“I’m sorry,” Singmij said quietly when their pursuers’ voices were starting to fade behind them.

Cheeyt lifted her head. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do. I should have told you to go back. There was no reason for you to risk yourself when this isn’t your task. I just—” She hesitated long enough that Cheeyt wondered if she was done. “I wanted you with me.”

“I wanted to be with you, too.” Cheeyt cleared her throat. “I never would have let you go by yourself. I would have followed you to make sure you were safe.”

Singmij let out a wry little chuckle. “As though I wouldn’t have noticed you.”

Yes, following people wasn’t one of her skills. The last few hours had made it very clear that she needed to stick to guarding travelers. “I’m sorry that they saw you because of me.”

“They were more observant than I thought,” Singmij responded with a shrug. “It wasn’t you. You weren’t so obvious.”

Finally the travelers’ camp came into view and they staggered toward the familiar shine of Chesfi’s coat. The Malk hissed when she saw them. “What happened to you?” Then she reared back, almost falling off her perch on one of the sacks. “Why are you wet?”

Kachaark had spun around at Chesfi’s voice. “There you are.” His relief almost knocked Cheeyt off her feet. Especially when he strode over and hugged her tightly.

Tajak had pushed to a sitting position on his bedroll, eyeing them. Sinchach slept on. Miyt dragged herself to her feet and hurried to Cheeyt, throwing a blanket over her shoulders. “Why are you wet?” she asked, scrubbing Cheeyt’s arms with the fabric.

“We had a complication across the river.” Cheeyt scanned their camp. She’d started to relax as they approached, but now she was seeing that there were far fewer people than there should have been. “Where is everyone else?”

Miyt pressed her lips together. Kachaark said flatly, “Nuttulch and Saknuu left while Nuliyaa was speaking to the company over there.” He nodded at the neighboring camp. “Then Nuliyaa went to fetch them when she saw them gone. Tseetsaa went with her.”

The cold Cheeyt felt now had nothing to do with her unplanned swim. “I’m going to throw them off the top of the gatehouse,” she growled, turning toward the village. Singmij fell in at her side, the motion that had gotten so easy over their weeks of travel even more instinctual after the last few hours.

“Let us go.” Tajak popped out of the bedroll, leaning over to shake Sinchach awake. The mage blinked up at his guard and sat up slowly.

“This is a company problem.”

“Yes, but—” He motioned at them. “You are very memorable at the moment, and I would guess you don’t want people mentioning you tomorrow.”

She stopped. He was right.

“Fine. You two go.”

“Why are you wet?” Nuliyaa’s voice cut through the camp. “And why were you gone so long?”

She, with Tseetsaa at her side and Nuttulch and Saknuu just behind, stood just outside of the light of their mage-lamp.