Three Korvi."
That was the price for a room. Cassian didn't know enough about the city to know if he was being cheated, but the tavern looked modest enough. He handed over the coins, and the woman handed him a brass key.
"Room four. Second on the left," she said.
Behind him, the room buzzed—a swell of laughing, eating, and drinking. Men and women crowded too close for comfort, entirely unbothered by the proximity.
Heathens, Cassian whispered, muttering it under his breath in his best impression of the Archon.
"Would you like something to eat, sir?"
Cassian paused and turned around. Was she talking to him?
"Yes. Yes, I would."
"It'll be sent up to your room," the woman said, flashing a quick smile.
For the first time in a long time, his luck seemed to be turning around.
A knock came a short while later, he opened the door before taking the tray straight from her hands. He sat on the room's lone bed, and devoured the meal. He couldn't identify half of what was on the plate, but he didn't care. He cleared the bowl to the last scrap, set it aside, and collapsed onto the mattress to reassess his situation.
"I can't stay more than a day," he muttered. "I need to reach Oakhaven as soon as I can."
"I admire the urgency, boy," Dea's voice echoed inside his mind. "But you can rest easy. They won't find you here. The Archon's reach doesn't stretch this far."
Cassian stared at the ceiling, feeling something heavy uncoil in his chest. He was free?
For the first time since the ceremony, he felt safe. Actually happy. He could stop right here. Just blend into the noise of this city and disappear. Start a new life, be someone else.
A small laugh escaped him. Every bone in his body ached as he sank deeper into the mattress. He heaved a long sigh of relief and let sleep persuade him, letting it lie to him about peace, even if he knew it was only temporary.
Morning came too soon. Sunlight was already glaring through the tavern's satin curtains when Cassian finally forced himself out of bed.
He needed supplies. As much as he wanted to believe Dea, his pursuers were persistent. He still didn't know how they had tracked him before, but they were good at what they did. If he dropped his guard for a second, they'd find him and take his head. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.
He left the tavern and headed into the market.
First priority: real food. Garrett's meat sticks had kept him alive, but they were getting stale, and he doubted they had enough nutrients to sustain him all the way to Oakhaven. Materdea hadn't given him an exact distance, but judging by the route he'd covered so far and her vague mention that it lay "a distance from Garrett's X," it wasn't going to be a short trip.
What do people even buy for this? Is there a standard 'on-the-run' ration set?
He wandered through the stalls, sighing as he looked around the crowded market. It was going to be a long day, and part of him just wanted to collapse back onto the bed.
It took until nearly dusk to gather everything he thought he'd need. By the time he hauled his overstuffed bags back through the tavern doors, the patrons stared at him like he was a traveling jester. He ignored them, marched straight up the stairs, unlocked room four, and dumped the gear on the floor.
"Tell me about Oakhaven," he said to Materdea.
"What does it matter?" she replied, her voice dripping with its usual cold sarcasm.
"It matters because I'm walking into it because of you," Cassian snapped. "Left to me, I'd stay right here at Garrett's X rather than walk into another trap because you failed to explain the details."
"You could do that," she said smoothly.
"Truly. But then... no revenge. You get nothing. The man who killed you gets to live a long, fulfilled life. Think about that, boy, and reignite whatever flame used to burn in your chest. I raised you from the dead. You draw breath because of me. What sense would it make for me to go through all that trouble just to watch you die? Or send you to your execution?"
Cassian hated to admit it, but her logic held. As infuriating as she was, every time he'd been in real danger, she had stepped in—even if she was a second late. That was a fact he couldn't dispute.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, softening his tone slightly. "Why help me?"
"Because, boy, you and I signed a contract. And even if your memory is blank right now, I will claim my side of the bargain when the time comes."
"What bargain?"
A beat of silence hung in the air before her response returned.
"For now, just stay alive."
Cassian stared at the floorboards. He couldn't tell if she was lying or throwing him a bone, but then again, nothing with Materdea was ever simple.
He tried to recall the exact moment he fell down the cliff, grasping for any word he might have spoken to her, but the memory remained completely blank. He hated the blankness. He hated that he couldn't remember what bargain he had struck with Materdea—or when she intended to collect.
When it is due, she had said. But how was he supposed to know when that was? What if the time came and he couldn't pay? What if he despised the price?
A sharp ache began to thrum behind his eyes, the early warning of a headache, so he forced himself to stop picking at the scab. Thinking about it was useless anyway. All he could do now was lie on the bed, stare at the ceiling, and hope he hadn't promised away something entirely unforgivable.