Dance of Thieves (Dance of Thieves 1)

Your worst nightmare, Jase Ballenger, I fumed, but I molded my words into a calm reply. “Do you want to make the best of this or not?”

He sucked in a slow, heated breath and swallowed his next words. He released my arm and turned, taking in our surroundings as though he was appraising our situation. “All right, then, Kazi of Brightmist, let’s see if we can make the best of it and get out of here.” His gaze jumped to the ridge on the opposite bank, then back to the forest behind us. He pointed to his left. “I think…” He shook his head and his finger shifted slightly to the right. “I think there’s a settlement in that direction. Closest civilization we’re going to find that doesn’t put us right back in the hunters’ path. Maybe a hundred miles.”

A hundred miles? Chained, barefoot, with no weapons or food?

And with someone who was about as trustworthy as a merchant’s wink. But I was sure survival was on his mind too. “What kind of settlement?” I asked.

“The only kind that’s out here. One of yours.”

There was no attempt to hide his disapproval. I looked in the direction he had pointed, still uncertain. “Where’s Hell’s Mouth from here?” I asked.

“Other side of the river, where the hunters are. And more than a day’s ride east.”

A day? Had I been knocked unconscious for that long? My stomach rumbled in confirmation, and his conclusion rang with some truth. There was another Vendan settlement far west of Eislandia. Casswell was one of the first and largest settlements—several hundred strong. They would have the supplies and resources to help me, in one way or another.

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The chain rattled between us, and he shifted on his feet. “Well?” he asked. “You have a better idea?”

Not at the moment. “We’ll head toward the settlement,” I answered.

“But…” he said, taking a step closer, his eyes narrowing, “here’s the real question: If I get you back to civilization, you still think you’re going to call me in for further discussion?”

Was that a veiled threat? If I get you back? The chain firmly connecting us now seemed like a blessed assurance I wouldn’t be bludgeoned the minute I turned my back. Everything about his stance was smug confidence. This was a game for him. A challenge. I’d bite.

“I’d be a fool to answer that, now, wouldn’t I, considering my predicament?”

An amused huff jumped from his chest. “I’d say you’d be a fool not to.”

I stared at him, trying to judge how much was bluster and how much genuine threat. “Then shall we simply agree to go our separate ways, once we reach the settlement? No foul, no gain.”

“Separate ways,” he said. “Agreed.”

We got our last drinks at the river since we didn’t know when we would come across fresh water again, and then I stopped to toe some small rocks I spotted on the bank. I picked one up, turning it over in my hand.

“That for me?” he asked.

I glanced up. This time, humor. A grin lit his eyes. He was impossible to predict, which only added to my misgivings. Quarterlords and their greedy egos were as easy to forecast as a snowy day in winter. Every exchange of words between Jase and me seemed like a dance, a step forward, a step back, circling, both of us leading, anticipating, wondering what the next move would be. He didn’t trust me any more than I trusted him.

“Flint,” I answered. “And my buckle is firesteel. The hunters may have relieved me of my valuables, but at least my belt was worthless to them. A fire will be welcome tonight.”

He looked at my buckle, a brown oval of metal shaped like a serpent, and nodded his approval of this development. A step forward.

“Then I better keep my eyes open for some dinner.” He stepped toward the forest to leave.

“Hold up,” I said. “Before we go, I need you to turn around.”

“What?”

“I need to pee. Turn around.”

“We just got out of a river. Why didn’t you pee there?”

“Maybe because I was doing this little thing called fighting for my life.”

“You mean I was fighting for your life. You just went along for the ride.”

“Turn around,” I ordered.