Gadriel’s eyes were wicked with delight. He drew a few steps nearer to her, causing her heart rate to spike inexplicably as the distance between them closed. Reaching for her arm, he pressed, “Believe me, you do. You need to get to the queen to tell her to stop killing northerners with your persuasive sorcery? Excellent. I couldn’t love a plan more. Coincidentally I, too, would like her to stop killing us. What do you say, Cai? Want to be conscripted swords-for-hire to a surly, white-haired witch girl?”

Zaccai grinned. “I haven’t heard a better plan in quite a while.”

Amaris attempted to yank her arm away, but Gadriel tightened his grip. His calloused fingers didn’t hurt, but they also didn’t allow for her retreat. She scowled. “I told you. I’m not a witch. I don’t think I see much of an advantage in accepting your demonic help.”

“Fine, you’re not a witch,” he conceded, loosening his hold. “What are you going by these days? Enchanter? Conjurer? Magician?” He did his best to goad her into further reaction. She refused to take the bait.

“Your abilities are…” Zaccai searched for a word.

“I’m not a witch!”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” he corrected. “They’re just very powerful. You saved my life when your friend would have killed me. I’ve never seen a power like it.”

She understood Zaccai was attempting both to thank and compliment her, but she didn’t have the space in her heart for his words. He seemed friendly enough. But then again, so did any snake before it bit you.

It was too much. She couldn’t think of what she’d done to Malik. The general was too close, the wound of the reevers’ abandonment too painful, and the fae were too bothersome. Amaris had already endured enough of the conversation. She began to gather her things.

“Between the two of you, you can work out what to call me while I make my way to the city,” she muttered, sheathing her weapons and draping her bow over her shoulder. “Two ag’imni couldn’t possibly follow me into its streets anyway. Think of the children.”

Gadriel was not amused.

“See? Not so nice, is it?”

Zaccai raised his hands reassuringly. He was undoubtedly a pleasant person, but Amaris was not interested in his olive branch. Still, he kept his voice calm as he said, “This will give us time to talk to the others at the outpost in Yelagin. Once they know what a resource we have in this wi—um, this girl, this reever, I mean—they’ll want to help as well. I’m sure of it. They’re going to be thrilled to learn about you.”

“I don’t think I want demons talking about me.”