“Well,” Tavia said, pocketing her weapon in a show of peace. “No help necessary. We’ve got it covered.”

Lionus looked at her, tilting his head to one side like he was appraising her. Tavia wondered if he knew that she was born from the same land that he was. If he could tell they were of the same people.

It didn’t seem likely.

She couldn’t see much of a resemblance between herself and the Volen Crafters. Sure, their skin was the same pale white as hers, but staves were spread up their arms in a rainbow of color, from pinks to deep blues, and their clothes were an array of bright oranges and dusty reds—a stark contrast to the blacks and grays that made up much of Tavia’s wardrobe. The women wore a single braid in their long hair and even Lionus had one dangling from his beard, while Tavia’s black hair cut sharply across her chin, unadorned.

There were so few similarities between her and the people her mother may have once thought of as kindred.

“That boy is a busker,” Lionus said, nodding to Nolan. “You should kill him.”

“I’m a busker,” Tavia said. “And since he’s my prisoner, we go by my rules. And I get to decide if and when he dies.”

Lionus kept his eyes trained on her and his people stiffened beside him, awaiting a command to strike.

“If he escapes, he could alert people to our location,” Lionus said.

“She told you that it was not your decision,” Karam said. “You should move out of our way.”

“Or what?” one of the Crafter women behind Lionus asked.

“Or we will go through you,” Karam said.

Tavia discreetly checked how many blades she had up her sleeves.

Lionus smiled. “We did not come here to risk our lives for such stupidity,” he said. “The busker dies and that’s all there is to it.”

Without hesitation, Lionus threw himself toward Tavia while his three Crafters laid assault to Karam.

Tavia had only the briefest second to see Karam block a kick in defense, before Lionus’s fist cracked across her jaw.

She kept her ground and dodged his next blow, swinging her leg low to knock him off his feet.

Lionus snarled and thrust his hand out and a spear of ice launched into the air. Tavia dove out of the way just in time for it to miss her heart and graze across her side.

Many Gods damned Crafters, she thought. So much for helping us.

Tavia quickly jumped back to her feet.

That was what Karam had taught her, and Tavia wasn’t about to let those lessons go to waste.