I picked up the little chalkboard, chipped and cloudy, from when I was little and still learning to write. I started with the strokes I knew, working until the construction deviated from my own amulet. From there it was chaos. It wasn’t enough to see them and make a rough copy—any imperfection in the construction would render the amulet useless for what I needed it to do. But trying to sense the strokes was like too many voices echoing in a cave. Unfocused. Indecipherable.

One at a time, then.

This way was tedious, and gave me a little bit of a headache, but it was better than no progress at all. Jember wouldn’t let me practice on a slab of wood until I mastered the strokes. And it had to be absolutely perfect before he would give me a disk of silver—one disk, because the church didn’t believe in supplying too many at once for something so expensive. If I had known I’d be staying here, I would’ve brought a few from the castle. As it stood, I’d just have to get in enough practice to not mess up.

Easily done.

The cellar door creaked open, and I finally looked up and rubbed my eyes.

“Had to pretend to be fascinated by the archbishop’s new horse for the past half hour,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “Massive beast. We could eat meat for a year.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You could stand to eat such a beautiful creature?”

He looked at me like I was crazy, raising his eyebrows right back. “People shoot lame horses all the time. Why waste all that good meat?”

He had a point. And a young horse probably hadn’t seen much hard work yet, so the meat might be more tender. My mouth was watering at the prospect of a dream. “It won’t be lame for a while if he just bought it.”

“Who’s to say?” His tone sounded vaguely underhanded. He took a small brown package from his pocket, groaning a little as he sat beside me on the bed. He quirked his brows at my work. “Hm.”

“Is it wrong?”

“You tell me.”

I lifted his amulet level with my chalkboard, comparing the two. “It looks right.”

“Then why’d you doubt yourself?”

“Because you said ‘hm’ like you disapproved.”

“You want to die, girl?”

“Of course not.”

“Then start over.” He swiped his sleeve on my board, wiping away all my work before I could stop him, then took off his own amulet and handed it to me. “And this time be sure.”

He opened the brown paper and held it between us. I grinned and snatched up my triangle of baklava. Warm and flaky and crispy and dripping precious gold. I took a big bite, leaning my head back so the honey running out would get in my mouth instead of my lap.