She didn’t squeal. After the initial shock, she knew it was Jonas. He released her once they were hidden from the view of casual passers-by.

‘You shouldn’t be out here.’ Jonas poked his head around the corner of the inn, checking she hadn’t been followed.

‘Neither should you,’ she said, resting her clenched hands on her hips. ‘Yet here you are. And you knew I’d come, or you wouldn’t have waited on me.’

He turned back to her. ‘I didn’t want you goin’ alone. But it ain’t safe for you to come. You should go back.’

‘You know I won’t.’

He appraised her before replying. ‘I know. But you gotta do exactly what I tell you.’

‘Okay.’

‘Alright. It don’t look like anyone heard you leave. Come on.’ Jonas stepped onto the street and Llew followed.

They had crossed the bridge on their way into Stelt. The river ran through a deep stretch of green grass on either side. There would be no light from nearby buildings, only what the moon threw down in between scurrying cloud cover. The night air was cold, and Llew hoped that whatever this Braph had to say he would say it fast, but she wanted to hear what he had to say – especially about her parents.

‘Who is Braph?’ she asked, trotting to keep up with Jonas’s brisk strides.

‘Someone I’d rather you didn’t meet.’

‘Why? He called you “brother”.’

‘That’s because I am— he is. My pa was his pa first. And he ain’t never let me forget it.’ Jonas maintained his pace and Llew had to throw in a few running strides to keep up.

‘He talks so—’

‘Like he went and got educated?’ He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Llew floundered, thinking she’d insulted him. But he didn’t look upset.

‘Yeah, well, so did I. But I didn’t feel the need to go denyin’ my roots, did I?’

‘Which are?’

Jonas clamped his lips tight for a few strides before relenting. ‘We grew up on a farm in Aldia, far north o’ Quaver. Mostly kept us out o’ trouble.’

‘Mostly?’

Jonas kept walking in silence.

Hmm. Seemed if she wanted to kill a conversation with Jonas, she simply had to ask about his family. They continued in silence.

When they arrived at the bridge, Jonas peered into the night and checked both sides of the river; there was no sign of the leather-clad man.

‘Do you think he’ll come?’

‘He’ll come.’ Arms folded, Jonas leaned back against the end of the bridge.

‘Why do you think he wanted you to bring me?’

‘’Cause it’s the only way he’ll have any chance of beatin’ me in a fight.’

‘You think you’ll fight?’

‘He’s got it comin’.’

Llew stooped and plucked a handful of grass blades. She started throwing them into the cold air one by one until she got bored. Then she brushed the last blades from her hands and hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her biceps. The cold was seeping right through her jacket.

‘Why would my being here give him a better chance of beating you? Doesn’t it put the odds in our favor?’

Jonas was silent a while. ‘’Cause it’s harder to fight when I gotta worry ‘bout him hurtin’ you.’

‘Don’t worry about me.’ She shoved her hands in her trouser pockets, hunching her shoulders up to her ears. She considered telling him why he shouldn’t worry, but now wasn’t the time. With his brother on the way, he had enough to think about.

Suddenly Jonas was at her back, warming her. His arms reached around from behind and he pulled her into him and rested his head on her shoulder. They stood watching the play of the moon’s silver light on the rippling water for several minutes. Normally Llew would have brushed such intimacy aside, laughed it off. But she was cold, and even his warm breath across her cheek was welcome.

‘Warmer?’ he asked.

Llew nodded – a verbal affirmation stuck in the back of her throat. She was supposed to be nurturing his interest in her to keep that knife from her back, but the chill running through her wasn’t from fear. It was thrill. Something she’d heard some her companions talk about. Usually right before they got plucked from the streets into a far more domestic life.

‘I will worry about you,’ Jonas said. ‘Damn it, Llew! Everyone I’ve ever cared for is dead. It won’t happen again.’

‘You care for Aris, don’t you?’

‘That’s different.’ His voice was almost a whisper.

Had Jonas just said he cared about her? Surely not. Besides, it meant little. Her father had cared about her too. Didn’t stop him leaving when he’d had enough.

She almost forgot why they were there; his body against hers and his breath tickling her ear. She let her head fall back onto his shoulder, a thrill shooting through her as her smooth cheek brushed his unshaven one. The chilly air breezing across her exposed neck didn’t bother her, and she wondered if this was what it was supposed to be like to be with a man, courting. She had heard other women and girls talk of sparks and tingles – not the cringing revulsion she had experienced with the men who used to visit her pa, one of whom had been the first to take her, nor yet the despairing touch of Kynas. This was all new. She turned her head toward him and blew out a ragged breath as his lips pressed lightly against her exposed neck.

Jonas guided her down into the grass. She sat, and he knelt before her. He stared questioningly and she replied with a tiny nod and smile. He leaned in to kiss her and then, cradling her head, he guided her to lie back. One knee between her thighs, he continued with ever more probing kisses, loosening her top button with one hand. Llew pulled his shirt free of his trousers and slipped her hands up to take advantage of every ounce of heat.

‘I hope he doesn’t come,’ she said.

‘Let him come.’ He planted a kiss at the corner of her mouth. ‘I’ll kill him before he draws breath.’

‘When did you last see him?’ she asked as he moved down her neck again.

‘I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout Braph while I’m puttin’ the moves on you.’

‘Oh, you do make it sound so romantic.’

‘Well, I don’t know nothin’ ’bout romance.’

‘Sex on the other hand . . .’ She finished for him and froze, while he chuckled and kissed her skin.

Was that what they were doing here? A flash of Kynas writhing on top of her appeared in Llew’s mind and suddenly she felt sick. She couldn’t think about Jonas like that. She couldn’t do it. They couldn’t do it. His lips on her skin felt so good, but where they were leading filled Llew with dread.

‘What was that word he called you?’

Jonas’s head came up and he sighed with frustration.

‘Get up.’ A sword tip smacked the ground by Llew’s ear and she cracked her head against Jonas’s jaw.

Rubbing his jaw, Jonas stood. When Llew went to follow suit, the sword tip was pressed against her chest, where her shirt hung open. She was stuck on her elbows, too scared to move.

‘Don’t you touch her,’ said Jonas, moving toward the man. But he had to back up a step when another sword was leveled at him. ‘Let her go.’ Llew didn’t think Jonas was in a position to make such demands.

‘Actually, it’s her we want. You can go,’ said the first man. One more stood behind him. All three were thick-set, muscular men with unshaven chins and unkempt hair.

‘No.’

‘I know what you are,’ said the leader. ‘But there are three of us.’

‘Drop your swords,’ Jonas commanded, speaking slowly and carefully.

‘Aghacia’s magic-free. We don’t need your kind here. Hers neither, but she’s worth somethin’ to us.’

The tip of the sword pressed more firmly against Llew. She gasped at its touch even as she tried not to break Jonas’s concentration. He was a capable fighter – he had, after all, defeated the Zaki warrior in a hand-to-hand fight – but here he faced three swordsmen. And each of the men was nearly twice his size.

The man holding the sword against Llew grinned, pressed harder and allowed the sword to slip, slicing her skin. Her fingers tingled in the grass below her and the skin healed almost instantly.

His back to Llew, Jonas only saw the sword move. Both swords were swept aside and Jonas had the two men on the ground in little more than a second, knives sunk in their chests. One man lay silent. A gurgling breath came from the other and then he too lay still. Crouching between the prone men, Jonas looked to the third, who held his sword half-drawn from its scabbard.

‘Leave,’ said Jonas.

Llew’s attention was caught by a shadow passing in front of her. Something grabbed the hair at the back of her head and a stinging, burning sensation stretched from ear to ear. She was vaguely aware of the third swordsman turning to flee when her breath caught in her throat. She tried to swallow, but didn’t seem to know how to work the muscles anymore. In her dulling vision, she saw Jonas move and distantly she heard him shout after the man. She tried to call out to him, but blew bubbles instead and choked on the warm liquid filling the back of her mouth. She put a hand to her throat in a strange belief that doing so would fix things. Her ears rang. She pulled her hand from her throat. It glistened black. Her stomach lurched, and she fainted.