“I’m not robbing you,” Emerahl corrected her. “Now, Panilo said you were charging twice what he originally paid me. That’s a hundred…” she paused as the guards reluctantly tried to enter the tarn, and gently pushed them out again “…ren per customer. Since coming to your establishment I’ve had forty-eight customers, many who were richer and more important than Panilo. Let’s make it a nice round five thousand ren, which makes ten gold. I’ll subtract one gold for a month’s food and board—and for the clothing—which I’m sure you’ll give to another girl anyway. I’ll need some change, of course, so…”

Emerahl began counting, aware that Rozea was standing a few steps away, glaring at her. The girls in the tarn were silent—too surprised to speak.

“Jade? Jade? Are you sure about this?” Brand asked suddenly, her voice low and urgent with concern. “There’s a battle about to happen. You’ll be all alone.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s you girls I’m worried about. Don’t let Rozea take any risks. Get yourselves back to Toren as soon as you can.”

“I don’t understand.” This came from Star. “If you’ve got Gifts enough that you can heal me and take your wages off Rozea, why’d you end up in a brothel?”

Emerahl looked up at her, then shrugged. “I…I don’t know. Bad luck, I suppose.”

The question made her uncomfortable, and not just because it might get them thinking of reasons why a healer sorceress might have resorted to prostitution at a time when the priests were searching for someone of that description. She counted the rest of her earnings out in silver and gold, to quicken the task.

When she had finished, she looked at each of the girls. They still looked confused. She smiled.

“Take care of yourselves. And take this advice: if you all demand it together, Rozea will have to give you your earnings. Don’t squander it all; put some aside for the future. Never think you don’t have a life outside the brothel. You’re all talented, beautiful women.”

Brand smiled. “Thanks, Jade. You take care of yourself, too.”

The others murmured farewells. Emerahl turned away and climbed down out of the tarn. She caught the eye of a servant.

“Get me a pack, with food and water. And some plain clothes.”

The man glanced at Rozea. To Emerahl’s surprise, the woman nodded. He hurried away.

“I guess I shouldn’t force you to stay when you’re so set on leaving,” Rozea said resignedly. “I’m not happy about this, but if you must go, you must go. Should you decide to return to the business at some stage, don’t think you’re unwelcome in my house. I’m not such a fool that I wouldn’t consider employing you again.”