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Back Four Roads Cross Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. Acknowledgments
  73. Also by Max Gladstone
  74. About the Author
  75. Newsletter Sign-up

“If he really has been negligent, you can press him out.” Tara set her beer down on top of the circle she’d been drawing. “One afternoon at the Court of Craft and you’d be done. But the Craft is serious.” She laid her hand on the table, fingers softly curled. The sun dimmed and knelt. A chill wind blew from nowhere. A flame leapt from Tara’s palm to her fingers and danced from tip to tip—but flame was not the right word. Matt didn’t know a word for it, or the not quite glow it cast. “A bond through the Craft is as like, and unlike, a real relationship as this light is like a fire. This burns, but there’s no heat, and it has edges that cut, which a real fire does not. If I do what you ask, it will burn your relationship with your father and replace it with a Craftwork bond. It’s an option.” She closed her fist around the flame. Almost-light ran in rivulets up her arm along tracks like tattoos Matt hadn’t seen before. “But there are others.”

“Like what?”

“Mediation,” she said. “Which requires talking to him—with a Craftswoman present, to ensure your bargains take. It’s hard, but offers more chance of healing. If you care. Either way, the choice is yours.”

Neither Claire nor Tara had looked at Matt. He folded his hands. Sunlight kneaded warmth into his skin.

“I’ll be out of town for a few days. When I’m back, if you still want to go to court, I’ll help.” She looked as if she wanted to say something other than what she said next: “Think it over. Either way, I won’t charge.”

“Thank you,” Claire said.

“For what? I only offered you a hard choice.”

“At least I have one.”

Tara pondered her remaining beer. “I have to go. Flying out of Alt Coulumb this evening. Lots to do before then.”

“You seem worried,” Matt said.

“I am.” She stood. “But I can’t talk about it now. Take care of yourselves in the next few days, okay?”

“We will.”

“Good luck.”

After she left, the waiter brought the sandwiches.

44

44

Tara caught a cab at sundown and settled in to read and ponder fate.

The near crash shocked her awake. The horse reared, hooves pawing. The carriage rocked and landed hard on bad shocks.

Tara dove out the door, blade drawn, shadow-clad, expecting cutpurses, demons, treachery, some machination of Madeline Ramp’s. She found Shale in the center of the road dodging hooves, hands raised. A black leather valise rested at his feet.

Tara released her knife and banished her shadows. “What the hells are you doing here?”

Shale snatched his bag and darted past hooves toward her. “Coming with you.”

“No.” She touched the beast’s flank, and it steadied, though its ears slicked back.

“You needed me to translate. You might need me again.”