Arryn started at the quick tap-tap-tap on the door. She stood, holding one hand aloft ready to send a spell flying at whoever was on the other side of the back door to the shop. Her magic probed for an answer, and found only Alfie. Wordlessly she flicked her fingers and unlatched the lock, and the boy entered. “Miss Arryn?” called his high voice.

“In here,” she said.

Alfie was slight and grubby, his eyes big and dark under a mop of red hair. He almost looked like Lark when he was younger, if Arryn squinted a little. The boy bounded down the steps into the safehouse, his bare feet nimble on the wooden beams.

“What news?” Arryn asked, hopping up onto the table in the center of the room. There was a plate of bread and cheese on the table, left out for her when she got back, and she plucked a chunk of bread from the plate and tossed it to Alfie. He caught it and came to sit beside her, his skinny legs dangling off the edge as he nibbled on the bread. She smiled to herself. He definitely reminded her of Lark, albeit a human version of him.

“The Venandi’s still out looking for you,” the boy said. “But there’s no word that he knows about the safehouse.”

Arryn nodded, leaning back on the heels of her hands. “Good.”

“But you should still be careful,” Alfie continued. “The king will be angry that you got away and he’ll be looking for you all over Ennore.”

“You know I can handle a few angry men.”

Alfie shrugged, his mouth full of bread. “Still. My master says you should stay here for a little while, lay low.”

She raised a white eyebrow. “So I’m to be a prisoner?”

Alfie giggled. “He said you’d say that.” Despite herself, Arryn smiled at the boy. “But no. He just said to be careful.”

Arryn breathed a sigh. “Fair enough,” she said.

“I saw the fire.”

She grinned. “Did you?”

“Yeah! It was so cool!” Alfie said, bouncing a little in his seat. “I’ve never seen anything like it! And you fought so good!”

She laughed. “Why, thank you,” she said. “Though I didn’t expect to come across Venandi.”

Alfie shook his head. “That was scary.”

“It was,” she conceded. “But you saw me. I kicked arse.” She reached up and ruffled his red hair, and Alfie giggled. “Go on, now. Take some more bread for you and your friends. You don’t want to be seen lingering here too long.”

Alfie beamed, his smile missing one little tooth in the front of his mouth. “Thank you, Miss Arryn.”

She waved a hand as she stood from the table and gathered up the bread and cheese from the table, handing it to Alfie. The boy stuffed it into his pockets and the small leather satchel hanging across his body.

He hopped off the table and bid her farewell. “Be safe, Miss Arryn,” he said.

“You too, Alfie,” she replied, and ruffled his hair some more. “Give the spymaster my regards.”

He nodded. She raised a hand and the door unlocked, and she held it open for Alfie as he leaped up the stairs and out onto the street above. She watched him go from the shadowed alcove of the door.

She closed and locked it again, charming the door once more. She crossed the room to her cot in the corner, sighing as she unbuckled her belt, tossing her weapons onto the cot. She reached up to untie the soft leather strap on her hair, and it fell from its braid in loose white waves.

Her hair hadn’t always been white. She had a vague memory of dark strands falling in front of her eyes, a pair of concerned faces with blue and brown eyes like hers, but the images were hazy, like she were looking through a thick fog.

She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for that. She had work to do: people to free, things to steal.

Venandi to kill.