Scent of Magic. Maria Snyder V.
do you know?” Ursan glanced at Odd with a neutral expression, but the muscles in his arms tensed.
I sensed trouble, but kept my mouth shut.
Odd grinned. “The question should be who doesn’t know. Come on, Ursan, you know nothing in this camp stays a secret for long. Plus, it’s no surprise Tohon would want to protect his troops. Just seems strange for him to be manufacturing new equipment when there’s a ton of stuff lying around.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s everywhere. Just the other day I tripped over a shield,” Saul teased.
“I meant each realm had at least one armory.” Odd’s tone bordered on huffy. “Before the plague there were thousands of soldiers in each realm. The dead don’t need armor.”
I choked on my tea. Ursan glared at me, but soon the conversation turned to other safer topics. All along I wondered what the general had really inquired about.
When it grew late, we headed toward our tents. I pulled Ursan aside and asked him.
“I’m not surprised that you’re concerned,” he said.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He considered. “She’s been hearing good things about our training. You know what that means, don’t you?”
Unfortunately. “She wants to know more about me.”
“Yep.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth.”
I suppressed my fear. Jael knew no other healers had survived the panic during the plague. And the last time I’d seen Jael, she had tried to kill me. I’d buried two of my throwing knives into her in self-defense. One into her upper arm and the other in her thigh. She wasn’t the type to forgive and forget. And without Kerrick’s help, a second attempt to kill me would no doubt succeed.
“The whole truth?” I asked.
Ursan studied my expression. “No. I left out the healer part.”
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
Uh-oh. Blackmail time. I waited.
“I did it for us.” He swept a hand out, indicating the tents, campfires and soldiers. “Right now, we need this training. So I’m being selfish.”
“Will you let me know when you decide to stop being selfish?”
“I can tell you right now when I’ll stop. Do you want to know?”
“Go on.” I braced for his answer.
“When we move from skirmishes to full-out war. Casualties will unfortunately be much higher and more serious than the sprained ankles and cuts suffered out on patrols.”
“Fair enough.” And another reminder that my time was limited. I needed to talk to Noelle and find Melina.
On my next day off, I walked into Zabin to buy a few needed items. It had been fifty long days since Kerrick and I parted. I calculated the time it would take for him to reach Ryne’s castle. Then added the approximate days Ryne would need to assemble his elite troops, plus the fact that a bigger group would move more slowly, especially when crossing the Nine Mountains.
My spirits sank. Kerrick and Ryne probably wouldn’t arrive for another week at the earliest and more realistically, not for another two weeks.
The hustle and bustle of the market helped to take my mind off Kerrick. Dressed in my fatigues, I blended into the crowd, and no one gave me more than a passing glance. Handy.
I browsed the stalls, purchasing new undergarments and leather ties for my hair. During Liv and Wynn’s last patrol, I had reapplied Mom’s lightening cream and dyed my hair again. Mom’s estimates of how long my disguise would last didn’t quite match for me. My healing powers accounted for the faster recovery.
After I finished my shopping, I paused in front of the weapons merchant’s table of goods. I hoped it looked as if I hadn’t been planning to stop there. The owner appeared at my elbow. I recognized him from before, but he didn’t show any signs that he remembered me.
He launched into a sales pitch for each weapon I touched. Under his easy, affable personality, I sensed tension, as if he chose his words with care. It made sense, considering this town was basically occupied territory and his livelihood could be shut down at any time by Estrid or Jael.
I played along, asking questions about one or another sword or knife. When he mentioned liquid metal, my heart squeezed harder.
“What’s so special about liquid metal?” I asked, keeping the same noncommittal tone.
“It’s mined from the bottom of the Nine Mountains and the edge never dulls.”
“Never dulls? That’s hard to believe.”
He demonstrated with two different blades, dragging them along a rough surface. The liquid metal kept its sharp edge. Impressive—reminding me my stiletto was also made from the same metal. I hadn’t had to sharpen it yet, but then again, I hadn’t used it that much either.
“Why doesn’t it dull?” I asked.
He floundered for a second. “Well, it’s unique to all the Fifteen Realms. It’s also very flexible, lightweight and near impossible to break.”
In other words, he didn’t know. “Do you have any armor made with liquid metal?”
“That would be useful, especially in these trying times. However, the supply is limited. The mines have been shut down since the plague. I’ve only a few knives left.”
That last bit sounded like a sales ploy. But in the end, I bought a small dagger with a boot sheath so I could hide the weapon.
On my way back to camp, I spotted Belen leaving Jael’s tent. No mistaking the bear of a man who towered over everyone. The sudden desire to run up and hug him pulsed in my veins. Instead, I changed course so I’d avoid passing him.
Belen’s return created problems for me. After a couple days, the camp gossip must have informed him about the silent training. He showed up during one of our sessions, no doubt curious.
At first, he watched or, rather, listened to the exercise. None of the men learning the technique heard his near soundless entrance into the woods, which, considering his size, always impressed me. I knew right away. After traveling with him for three months, I could detect his subtle movements.
He waited until after we had finished for the day to appear as if by magic from a clump of bushes. Two members of the Odd Squad cried out in surprise. I used the distraction to fade into the forest.
“Not bad, gentlemen,” Belen said in his friendly baritone.
“You need more practice, but not bad at all.”
They stood a little straighter at the compliment.
Belen glanced around. “So where’s this Sergeant Irina that I’ve been hearing about?”
I kept still, hoping no one saw where I’d disappeared. The men exchanged looks as a murmur rippled through the two squads.
Ursan came to my rescue. “She’s out on a special assignment. Can I help you?”
“No need, Sergeant,” Belen said. “Just wanted to compare notes. When she returns, can you tell her I’d like to talk?”
“I’ll let her know. Will you be around for a while or are you heading out soon?” Ursan asked.
Standing next to Belen, Ursan didn’t appear to be as tall or as muscular. Belen had a few inches on Ursan and was thicker. Lines of fatigue creased Belen’s face, and he sported a few cuts and bruises. He rubbed his big hand over the black stubble on his jaw. His hair had also grown. The ends