Magpie’s up early, and when she sees me, she pounces. “Good. You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?”

“There’s a quick job the guild needs done today,” she says. “A retrieval. Some idiot left his sword in Drop Seven’s tunnels and it’s got sentimental value to him. He can’t get it because he broke his foot. I told Rooster you’d do it.”

I get to my feet, my thoughts flooding with Aspeth in bed, Aspeth pinned to the alley wall, Aspeth squinting at my cock…the last thing I want to do is leave her side, which is exactly why I should. “Fine.”

It’s a job. It’s a distraction, and I can put everything off for a few more hours.

But…“You’re taking them into the tunnels for a practice run today, aren’t you? I should be there.”

“That got delayed,” Magpie reassures me. “I had to file for an additional permit so we could have an extra teacher. It’s going to take another day before we’re able to head down. You have time to do this.”

I don’t think anything of it. The guild is constantly asking for more permits, as people like Rooster—who loves bureaucracy—take charge. I head off and retrieve the sword, and it’s exactly where it was supposed to be. Foolish to waste manpower picking up someone else’s discards, but if they want to pay for this, I’ll take the coins.

But when I return, the nest is empty. All is quiet, the lights out. Aspeth isn’t in bed, and the only person at home is her fat cat, his face planted in his overflowing food dish. I reach down and give him a pet, only to huff with annoyance when a fistful of loose cat hair comes up. Has any creature ever shed as much as this one? “Where’s your mistress?”

“Mrowr?” is all Squeaker says.

Fucking Magpie. I know what’s happened here. I bet if I went to the guild, there’d be no permit for a second teacher on the excursion. She just wanted me out of her hair so she could be in charge of the team. But I’ve taken the last few down without her putting up a single word of protest. I don’t understand why she’d maneuver around me now.

Unless…

I cross the house, looking for the place I stashed her liquor. I’d pried up a floorboard when she’d told me to hide it all from her, and when I get to the place in the cellar where it’s hidden, the bottles are still there. That doesn’t tell me much—she can just buy more if she’s determined. But I’m suspicious of her actions.

She doesn’t want me around for a reason. Until I figure out what that reason is, I’m not going to rest easy.

I pet the cat for a moment more, thinking about his mistress. Even though Magpie can’t be trusted, Aspeth should be safe enough with her…I think. I’m reminded of how cagey Aspeth looked when I dragged her from the bar and think about Gwenna’s words. She knew who Aspeth was meeting, I’d wager. Went on and on about how people in Aspeth’s life didn’t give her the love she needed. People in Aspeth’s past.

So it’s someone from her past that she met at the bar.

The next morning, I decide to find out what I can about my bride. I have connections with other Taurians in the city—we all look out for one another. Most are employed by the guild in some manner, but there are some who choose to work alongside humans in a variety of jobs. I know one old Taurian who used to work security for a network of merchants along the coast. Now that he’s older, he organizes security for those same merchants, and he knows everyone. It’s a good place to start.

I bring him a gift—a box of vegetable buns from a popular Taurian baker in Vastwarren—and drop by his house in the merchants’ quarter. We catch up for a while, eating sticky buns covered in carrot shreds and dried fruit, and talk about the upcoming Conquest Moon. Hadder has a wife—an older human woman—and so he’s not troubled by it, even though I’m surprised he’s still in the city.

He chuckles. “The god’s hand is a problem only for males younger than me. I’m too old for his grip to hold me strongly. All it does is give my wife a few exciting nights in bed and then we go back to our normal lives.” His eyes twinkle and he tosses his white-streaked mane. “But it’s good to know the equipment remains functional.”

“Do you still work with merchants?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. “I’m looking for one—or his daughter, specifically. We have a merchant’s daughter in the guild apprentices this year. Her name’s Aspeth. Older daughter. Very bookish.”

“Pretty?”

I can feel my face heat and resist the urge to tug on my nose ring. “Yes. Dark hair. About thirty, I think? Nice figure. Won’t tell anyone where she’s from but I get the impression that it was money. Lots of money. Know of any merchants who fit that profile?”

He rubs the tuft of goatee under his chin, considering. “A merchant with a pretty daughter that’s unmarried? Very unlikely. Most marry them off as soon as they get tits, looking to make another connection. Is it possible he’s not very wealthy? A niche market of some kind?”

I think of Aspeth and her knowledge of Old Prell. It would be someone who could get his hands on obscure tomes, someone with a lot of clout. Someone who wouldn’t need the money marrying off his only daughter would bring in. “No, I think wealthy. Exceedingly so. And someone in the household has more than a passing interest with Old Prell.”

“Who doesn’t? It’s a land of riches.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “No one comes to mind on my end, but I know another Taurian who works with holders.”

I turn my head and spit. “Bah. No holders. Spoiled lordlings.”

He raises a hand in the air. “I know. A necessary evil. Trust me, I’m not thrilled to work with them, either. But I know Sterian and he works with a lot of holders. If you have a rich merchant, he’ll work with holders, too.”

I grunt, because he has a point. “Give me this Sterian’s address and I’ll pay him a visit tonight.”

“Is your mission this urgent?”

“It might be.” I think of Aspeth and wonder what secrets she’s holding.

A short time later, I’m in another part of the merchants’ quarter in Vastwarren, in the section that passes as a mercantile district here. Vastwarren’s only export is artifacts. As those are typically handled by the guild, the mercantile district is more of a black market than anything else.

I don’t judge, though. I just want answers.

The big Taurian—big even by my people’s standards—is as genial as he is loud. He shakes my hand, his laughter booming and overly boisterous. “Rooster sent you? An honor indeed! What can I help the guild with this fair day?”

“I’m not here on guild business. I’m here on personal business. I’m looking for information on a merchant.”

The moment I say I’m not on guild business, he relaxes. He knocks on the table and a woman steps out of the cabinet, exhaling with relief. She flashes me a smile and hurries on to the back of the shop.

“What kind of merchant are you looking for?” The look he gives me is sharp. “Are we talking legal goods?”

“I’m not wanting to buy something. I’m looking for the name of a merchant who might have a daughter, about age thirty. Bookish. Loves anything Old Prell. Goes by the name of Aspeth.”

“You mean Lady Aspeth Honori? She’s a holder’s daughter, not a merchant’s.”

I shake my head. “No, this is a merchant’s daughter.”

“Mmm.” He doesn’t look convinced. I tell him the criteria and his expression doesn’t change. “I’ve sold a great deal of books on Old Prell to Lord Corin Honori up in the mountains. His heir is his daughter, Aspeth. Pretty girl? Tall with nice tits? Spectacles?”

Spectacles? I shake my head. “That’s not her.”

“Probably not. That one’s fond of cats, too. Has this great orange beast she carries everywhere with her.” He chuckles. “You haven’t seen a creature shed until you’ve seen that one. I swear it has a new coat every week.”