Walking away from a tavern in the evening, she felt a sudden trembling itch at the small of her back run up her spine and into her head. The whole night around her appeared to come alive as her senses heightened, and she heard rather than felt the hand digging in the cloth sack over her shoulder. When she turned and snatched the wrist, ready to deal with this thief, there was complete surprise on his face-a strange, tan face with glittering amber eyes beneath high, thin blond eyebrows.
Magiere couldn't remember exactly what they said to ease out of that tense moment. Perhaps it had been a mutual recognition of their special talents. Leesil's unusual appearance mingled with the schemes in her thoughts. She'd never actually seen an elf before, as they were not known to travel and lived far to the north. The combination of his human and elven blood created an exotic look in face and form. They spent a wine-soaked evening of conversation, during which he took off his head scarf and allowed her to see his ears. The next morning, they left town together, along with a strange wolfish dog Leesil had with him. That was four years ago.
The fire cracked again. Chap lifted his head and whined, staring into the darkness.
"Stop it," Leesil slurred, halfway through his flask by this point. "There's nothing out there." He scratched the back of the dog's neck, and Chap turned to lick at his face until he had to push the animal's muzzle away.
Magiere leaned over and looked out into the forest. Chap didn't usually fuss about nothing, but still, he was a dog. More than likely he'd just heard a squirrel or a hare.
"I don't see anything," she said, and turned back to the fire. In the red light, she remembered the dimly lit common cottage and the two unexplainable oozing holes in the neck of Zupan Petre's son. Her head began to ache. She dreaded the discussion she'd planned to have with Leesil. For a month, she'd been putting it off, always waiting for a better time. But this last job made her wonder how much longer she could stall. She was getting tired of it all, and Leesil was getting careless. Things were becoming a little too unpredictable.
"Before you drink too much, we need to talk," she said quietly.
"I never drink too much, always just enough." He squirted another mouthful from the wineskin. He was about to take another gulp, when the tone of her voice made him stop halfway. He lowered the wineskin. "What about?"
She reached inside her pack and took out a folded parchment, slightly crumpled. "There's a bank in Belaski where I put money when we pass through, and where I have messages sent to wait for my next visit."
Leesil's expression went blank. "Messages? What are you talking about?"
She held out the folded parchment to him. "This is from a land merchant."
Leesil took the parchment, slack jawed with surprise. "You've been hoarding money away?"
"He's been looking for a certain kind of tavern for me, somewhere along the coast… seems he's found one." She paused. "I'm buying a tavern in a Belaskian town called Miiska."
Leesil blinked as if he didn't understand a word. "What?"
"I didn't want to tell you until the right place was found. I never planned to run the hunter game forever, and I'm tired."
"You saved money?" Leesil shook his head. "I don't believe it. All I've got is what's in my pouch."
Magiere rolled her eyes. "That's because you drink it all, or waste it at a card table."
Then she heard him suck in his breath and the words began to flow.
"Just like that?" he nearly shouted, ignoring her answer.
"No warning. Not even a 'By the way, Leesil, I've been saving for a tavern." And you never mention it. How much have you been putting… no, never mind. We're in this together. I say we do four or five more villages and then talk about quitting."
"I'm done," she answered softly. "I want something of my own."
"What about me?"
"You'll like the town," she rushed in. "We just head for the coast and turn south. It's ten leagues down the coast from the capital city of Bela. I'll handle the drinks. You can run the gaming. I've heard you talk about running a faro table… every time you lose your last coin at one."
Leesil waved her off with his hand and a disgruntled scowl.
"Chap can watch over things," she continued, the dog lifting his head at his name. "We'll sleep inside every night and stop taking all these risks."
"No! I'm not ready to quit."
"You'll be the card master…"
"It's too soon."
"…a warm bed, plenty of ale and mead…"
"I don't want to hear any more."
"…and mulled wine from our own hearth."
Leesil became quiet. She could see him working his thoughts, examining the possibilities. He wasn't stupid, quite the opposite. Finally, he let out an exasperated grunt, or perhaps it was a burp.
"Can we talk about this in the morning?" he asked. Still sulking, he took another long drink.
"Yes, if you like."
And with that, Leesil rolled his back to the fire. Magiere leaned over, snatched up the parchment he'd never even bothered to look at, and tucked it away again inside her vestment. As she settled down, Leesil suddenly sat up and looked about as if lost, startling Chap to his feet.
"How could you have saved that much money?" he blurted out in confused exasperation.
"Oh, shut up and go to sleep," Magiere snapped.
Leesil rolled over again, grumbling under his breath.
Sleep wouldn't come quickly enough, and Magiere felt restless and anxious. Leesil wasn't going to easily give in to this sudden change of plans. That much she'd expected, but he was at least thinking about it now. It wouldn't be too hard, she hoped, to push him the rest of the way, though it might take a little while. Waiting until he had coin in his pocket was the best time. With an empty purse, he would have been more resistant, wanting to wait for another ill-gotten windfall.
Magiere watched the small fingers of fire dancing before her. She noticed Chap had not curled up next to Leesil as he usually did, but sat a little ways apart, looking off into the trees. Finally fed up with watching him watch nothing, she closed her eyes. She didn't see him shift his place, taking position to the side of the fire, equally near both Leesil and herself.
Out in the thickness of the forest, something moved. From tree trunk, to bush, to snag-fall, to tree trunk, it darted closer to the wisp of firelight. It settled behind an aging oak with scales of fungus sprouting from its sides and peered into the clearing where two forms slept quietly. Between them was a dog, its body somehow shimmering too brightly in the watcher's vision for a normal hound. But the hidden watcher gave the animal no more notice when it focused its eyes of pinprick lights close upon the woman lying beneath a wool blanket.
Her pale skin now glistened in the firelight, and highlights of blood red ran in her dark hair.
"Hunter," it whispered to itself and choked back laughter with a swallow as fingers tickled their claws down the bark of the oak.
Chapter Two
Chap lay with his long head down, nose just shy of his paw tips. His half-open eyes rarely blinked as he stared relentlessly into the darkness around the camp. Above the whisper of leaves and grass in the breeze came Magiere's light breathing and Leesil's soft, drunken snore.