"Zevran." Larin mounted the ridge, squinting out across the path below.

They were close now, three women and two men by his guess, most of them heavily armored and sticking hard to the road. Still the distance was too great to gauge heraldry or arms, but there was little doubt now. These were not refugees, not traders. It would be soon.

Turning, Zevran smirked.

"Is that them?"

"So it would seem." He started down the hill.

"I had a thought on that score, actually, and none too soon by the look of it."

Zevran raised a brow.

Pointing cross the clearing, Larin gestured to an old and half-fallen tree. "Some of the men and I… Well Serah, too, actually; seems she has a bit of magic… We'd like to set a charge at the tree's base, topple it once we've drawn them in."

"Cut off their escape."

"Exactly."

"And it can be timed correctly? Just one charge?"

"That's the idea. One little blast and it all comes crashing down."

Zevran chuckled, raising his eyes to the thick and rotted wood. "And by then it will be too late."

He sat curled against the wall, letting his head fall back against the pocked and pitted wood. Taliesin lay stretched across the narrow bed, Rinna having taken the room's only chair. Her legs were crossed beneath her as she rocked forward to stare out of the small and filthy window.

They had reached Treviso that morning, taking a room at an inn near the city gates. Too fine to attract the notice of the lower sorts, too shabby for their arrival to be of interest to anyone of merit. Or so they hoped. Rinna, at least, seemed to share something of his caution; she had done little else but watch the street since he had barred the door.

Taliesin, though, stretched, jaw cracking in an exaggerated yawn. Propping himself up on an elbow, he grinned, nodding in Rinna's direction.

Her head tilted almost imperceptibly, keeping him in her periphery. As they had been all along, he realized. "What are you looking at?"

"Your hair, actually." Taliesin stood, moving from the bed to stand behind her. His hand lingered there, just above the dark waves tumbling past her shoulders, fingers curling away with a bemused chuckle. Instead he leaned low, palm slapping hard against the wood of the wall as he bent to peer through the window. "See anything?"

"Nothing worth mentioning."

"Yeh?" His head twisted, their cheeks brushing as he sneered.

Rinna did not flinch, stared ahead unblinking.

"Taliesin."

He straightened, turning to Zevran with a smirk.

"Perhaps you should take a turn."

"You're the boss." His hand fell against the chairback, but Rinna was already slipping away.

She sat on the bed, bending to adjust the straps of her boots. "I have to be going anyway."

"Again?" Taliesin's eyes narrowed.

"Again."

"And why is that, exactly?"

Her head rose, one hand idly sweeping an errant strand of hair aside. But that gaze was hard, dangerous. Zevran smiled.

"I told you. I have a contact here. They may be able to tell us the merchant's location or at least where he houses his wares."

Taliesin's head turned, nodding in Zevran's direction. "She has a contact. You hear that? A contact."

"And what is it that you do… exactly?" Rinna stood, smoothing her skirts.

"I'm here for my rugged good looks, of course. Right, Zev?"

With a snort, she turned for the door but Zevran was on his feet, sliding the bolt aside. She lingered there, holding his eye, a small smile blooming as he bowed to usher her through. Turning back, she placed a hand on the wood next to his. "…Bye."

"Goodbye."

Twisting the lock, he leaned against the door, smirk twisting into something of a grin.

"Maker, that's pathetic."

"What is?"

Taliesin laughed, the sound rumbling thick and rasping. "Never would I have thought to see the great Zevran laid low. Especially by a woman."

"Ahh, but then you do not know women, my friend." He turned, moving to stretch across the bed. "But you have no cause for concern."

"You shouldn't have let her go."

"And why not?"

"'Why not?'" Leaning back in the chair, he propped his boots against the windowsill. "She's obviously going to meet a contact."

"Truly? I would not have guessed."

"She's reporting to someone. Leaving marks, notes, Maker knows what else. Why do you think the merchant's always one step ahead of us? Why our information is always just a bit too old? And now we're just going to sit here and wait?"

"I trust her."

"Because she's pale? Wet? Might as well trust the summer rains."

"Poetry?" He chuckled. "From you, Taliesin? I never would have guessed."

The other man was on his feet, dropping to kneel beside the bed. "She's playing you, Zev. You know this. You've done this."

He folded the pillow in two, propping it beneath him as he rolled onto his side. "Have I?"

Taliesin snorted.

"You are wrong about her, my friend."

Leaning closer, he sighed, fingers stretching to brush aside Zevran's hair. "I hope you're right. For your sake."

"I always am." His own hands flowed over the man's arm, drawing him down into a kiss.

"Why are we doing this again?"

Rinna set the pace ahead of them, eyes straying through the crowd as she shook her head. "He has a storehouse just off of the western square. There's been activity recently, lots of it." She turned. "Your man may well be there."

Taliesin leaned close to Zevran's ear as she turned away. "Convenient, eh? That she finds him?"

"Perhaps she is just that good."

"Yeah. Right."

Squeezing his arm, Zevran's eyes followed her movements, quickening their pace. "Come, my friend."

Treviso was not so fine as Antiva City. The buildings here were old, long since settled, built of thick, dark stone instead of living wood and marble. Sturdy, yes, but there was more function here than beauty. Still the streets were crowded, windows lit with the flicker of colored lights, men and women sweeping by in pale and loose robes. A festival, Rinna had said, though they were close enough to the Rivanian border for the customs to seem almost strange. Even the unrelenting Chantry sisters and their templars had failed to penetrate the peninsula. A wild place, godless and hedonistic, they said. Zevran chuckled beneath his breath.

"Rinna." He caught her up, laying a hand on her arm. Still she swayed, weaving through the press as he fell in beside her. "What did you say this was called?"

"This? Daidala."

"And what does it celebrate? Besides drink and women, obviously."

She laughed, the sound rising through the din. Turning, she held his eye, one brow rising as she smirked. "Reconciliation, or so they say."

"Truly? Marvelous."

Their pace slowed as the crowd thinned, the growing silence easy, comfortable. A stroll through the city, nothing more. Her fingers brushed against his.

"There."

"Mmm?"

They wrapped round his wrist, drawing him close as her other hand fell against his cheek to turn his head. "You see?"

The building was lower than the others, holding hard to the water. It was well beyond the light of the street, the shadows thick, quiet. One entrance that he could see, no sign of any guard, anyone to see…

She was pressed against him, he realized, turning his face back to hers. It was slowly that she leaned, arching against him to press her lips to his. After a time, she sank back onto her heels. "We may be being watched."

"Indeed we may." He grinned, hands slipping to her hips. "But if I am to be used in such a way—"

"—Ahem." Taliesin stood in the road behind, folding his arms to lean against the stone.

If he did not imagine it, Rinna seemed to flush, gesturing to the building opposite. "There's an alley there. Small and crowded with scrap, but there's no better view. Big enough for one. The others can wait on the pier, out of sight."

"We'll take shifts." He nodded toward the shadows. "Taliesin."

"What? You want me to kneel in the garbage while you two just—?"

Already Zevran was moving away, one arm draped round Rinna's waist. He turned with a wave. "You know the call to use if you need assistance. I shall relieve you shortly."

The road opened out onto a cobbled walk overlooking the bay. They were far enough from the docks proper, the warehouse more convenient to the merchant's land routes, but there seemed to be little in the city left untouched by the water. Here it was bordered by a low wall of the same dark stone, carved in the shadowed likenesses of the strange, Rivainian gods. There were columns here too, thick and unadorned. It was round one of these that Rinna moved, trailing an idle hand along the stone. It was a gesture he had seen her make before.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her up short as he bent to examine the mark. Long, white, barely perceptible. She gasped as he twisted, her palm springing open.

Pinching the chalk delicately between two fingers, Zevran tsked. "And what is this?"

Rinna only glared.

"Taliesin says he has seen you marking trees."

"A tracker's trick. Nothing more."

"And this?" He let the chalk fall, shattering on the stones below.

"I don't know the city. Wouldn't want to get lost. And if I was truly leaving messages, I would have made two marks. Let them know there were two of us."

There was laughter behind them now, the approach of footsteps. Wrapping an arm round her waist, he pressed her back against the column, leaning low to hiss into her ear. "Do not lie to me, Rinna."

She shifted beneath him, breath coming hot against his cheek. "I'm not. And I am also not a fool. Not fool enough to move against you, at least…" She trailed off into a whispered chuckle.

He could hear them now, on the pier beyond… two, perhaps three sets of footsteps. The sharp click of heels, the rustle of skirts, giggles rising as one of them stumbled. Revelers, nothing more. Still, he let his hair fall to hide their faces from view, lips brushing against hers. "Taliesin does not trust you."

Tilting her head, she met him there. "And you should not trust him."

"I know him."

"As you know me."

"Do I?"

One hand stayed again to his cheek, brining him low as she raised her eyes. Still they held, wide and dark and calm. If there was a lie in them, it was a good one. "I have done nothing but what you have asked… refused you nothing."

"All the more reason to wonder why."

"Do you not know?" She tilted her head, lips pursing beneath a wondering smirk.

Zevran chuckled but she was already slipping round, tugging at his arm to draw him with her. The pier was deserted once again, the lights of the distant square still coloring the shadows, the faint strains of music rising through the silence. It was to these that she moved, twirling just ahead of him, trailing a hand up and over his shoulder as his arm slipped round her waist.

Away she spun, his arm stretching long, her smile shining pale in the whirl of skirts and flowing hair. He pulled her close, rough despite the grace of it, stopping her hard against his chest. Looking up at him, Rinna laughed.

He leaned low, bending cross the sea wall at her back. Still her eyes glinted, but there was no malice there.

"Zev…"

He heard the blade, the unmistakable whistle of steel through air, pulling her with him as he darted aside. Their attacker fell hard against the wall, the stone sending up a shower of sparks as the visage of a weeping maid was horribly gouged. Rinna had rolled away, crouching behind him as he drew his daggers.

The man was quick to his feet, but still overbalanced. Twin cuts cross his exposed belly were enough to send him topping over the wall. Spinning, Zevran spotted two – three more, slipping from the shadows of the columns. Rushing to meet the first, he ducked low and to the side, taking the man behind the knee. The other blade came up sharp, slicing the length of the hamstring. Already he was moving to the third, a big man with a pair of full length swords. Zevran ducked back, keeping just out of reach of a well-aimed swing. The man's reach was impressive… troubling.

But he fell heavy, the bolt at his back humming still as he sank. Taliesin stood in the shadows beyond, crossbow fitted to his elbow, glare straying to the pier beyond. The fourth man had vanished, but Rinna leaned breathless against the wall, staring to the waters below.

"Are you alright?"

She straightened as Zevran moved to her side. "I'm fine."

"Of course you are."

"Taliesin—"

"—She brings us here and there's an ambush waiting. What more proof do you need?"

"Taliesin."

He pushed past him, grabbing her roughly by the arm, hands roaming to her waist. "Didn't even draw your blade."

"I was able to overbalance, throw him over the side."

Taliesin grabbed her chin, turning her face from side to side. "And not a mark on you. How's that?"

"I avoided his touch. I can understand how that would be beyond your comprehension, beyond your skill."

"Enough." Zevran slipped an arm between them, pushing the other man aside.

"The waters are still, Zev. She threw no one over. He ran off, didn't hurt her because she's in on it."

Rinna folded her arms. "Yes, in on setting an ambush of four thugs for two Crows. What purpose would that serve?"

Poor odds, indeed. Zevran paused, blinking down at her. "Unless they did not know that there were two of us."

"What?"

"Three men against a single Crow… not a strong advantage, but with the element of surprise…" He was almost unsurprised to see it when he looked down, the tiny, forgotten speck of white. Bending, he rolled the chalk in his palm.

"What is that?" Taliesin leaned over his shoulder, the whisper hushed.

Zevran, though, rose slowly, eyes locked to Rinna's. "You left them only one mark."

"I told you I didn't."

"And yet."

He stepped close, close enough to feel the warmth of her, close enough to see the fear in her eyes. His hands moved quick, lighter than Taliesin's but tensed and grasping. Her belt he ripped away with ease, the pouch sliding free to spill coins across the cobblestones.

Taliesin crouched there, eyes widening as ran his fingers cross the pile. "Rivainian."

"Rinna." Back he pressed her, her steps whispering as she moved away.

"Zev… it's not—"

His foot shot forward, sweeping her legs from beneath her. He barely flinched as her jaw hit the stones. Pushing herself up onto her palms, she tilted her head to look up at him, but the arms were weak, quivering, shoulders heaving as she struggled to her knees. His boot came hard against her back, pressing her down.

"Let me… let me explain." The words were muffled, thick with blood, choking on the hair that fell around her.

Zevran crouched at her side. "And how would you do that, hmm? Honeyed words? The touch of your hands? The sweetness of your cunt?"

"Zev!"

"You have played me for a fool." He remembered another night, the night that they had… She had brushed aside Taliesin's attack, fell into his arms as if it were nothing. She had distracted him, distracted them. "Me and Taliesin both."

She spat, something of that glare returning as she twisted to hold his eyes. "I did only what you asked of me." But whatever she saw in his face seemed to shake her, the fear returning as she sobbed. As he straightened, her hand curled round his boot. "Zev… Zev, I-I love you…"

It rose in this throat, the bile, the bitter taste, the stinging anger. With a twist of his lips he leaned close, letting it fall, letting it splatter cross the stones where she cowered. Her fingers curled there, trailing through the wet, the last thing that he would ever give her.

The words came, the lies spilling again across her lips. But they echoed hollow now, exposed. Still she looked up at him, wide dark eyes gleaming, challenging him to believe. Lying still. No. Not love. This, this was hate.

Taliesin had moved to his side, but there was no mocking, no vindication there. At Zevran's nod, he slipped round, crouching behind her. Again Rinna's shoulders heaved, but whether from laughter or tears he could not tell. Shaking her head, she sighed, but the whisper was already cold. "Zevran…"

He stiffened, not daring to look away. Taliesin's hand tangled in her hair, jerking her head back, her eyes locking to his one last time. Wide, wicked, dark. But the other arm came round, her gasp choking as the blade kissed deep. Shutting his eyes, Zevran felt the wet flick cross his cheeks. He had forgotten how warm she was.

Still he held, breaths steady even as he heard her fall. Taliesin cursed, hissing for the mess as he straightened but there were other whispers here, shadows deeper than the darkness pooling round his feet. Zevran's eyes flew open as he spun.

Laughter. It echoed amongst the columns, the sound of approaching footsteps ringing them round. There were many, too many… Everywhere there were faces, thugs clad as those first unfortunate few. The man at their center, though, was announced by the sharp, reverberating click of fine and tailored boots, his mustaches quivering as he chuckled.

"Touching. Truly." He stepped onto the pier unafraid, clasping hands behind his back as his eyes roamed over them. "So heartless, you Crows."

There had been a sketch with the reports. Looking to Taliesin, he nodded.

The merchant bent to his man, the large one still lying face down in his own filth. Snorting, he straightened, moving to the next. With a nod, he moved again, passing within arm's reach of Zevran without so much as a cautious glance. It was to Rinna that he bent now, rolling her onto her back to brush the hair from her still wide eyes. Zevran found himself looking away.

"Such a pity."

"Pity that you—"

"—Be silent!" He sneered as he stood. "I was saying… such a pity that this one is not known to me. I am sure I would have enjoyed it."

"She was in your pay, even if you did not know her face."

Chuckling, he moved round, leaning close, stinking breath hot against Zevran's chin. "She is not one of mine." His grin grew wide. "She told you true."

It ripped cross his shoulders, down his arms, the heat threatening to break as he clenched his fists. But still he did not flinch.

"Is this the way of Crows, then?"

Zevran's neck turned stiffly, almost refusing to obey. But he concentrated on those eyes, deep-set and lined, concentrated on holding that gaze. "If you know what we are, then you know why we are here."

The merchant's chins shook as he laughed. "I do indeed. And yet I think that you will not kill me."

Zevran quirked a brow. "Oh?"

"There will be reprisal for such an action, yes?" He gestured to Rinna. "For such a… dreadful waste. I think that you will leave now, tell your masters that the contract is fulfilled. You will do this… or I will tell them what you have done."

He raised his eyes, the words flat, cold. "And if we do not?"

The merchant's grin was wicked as he stepped back amongst his men. "Then here you shall die."

Sitting on the ridge, he watched the preparations, feeling the tension again seep into his shoulders. One blast and they would have them; one blast and it would all come crashing down. Soon.