"Are we there yet, Priest?" Amadeus asked from the back of the wagon.

Claud slowed his pace until he walked alongside the wagon's rear wheel. "Almost." Amadeus had been asleep since they left the last waypoint between Viperstone and the coast that morning. He'd walked with them for half a mile the previous day before he almost collapsed. Even though he'd said he was well enough to travel, the liar.

Undine had to force him to ride in the wagon with their luggage. Claud imagined that if Amadeus had refused, would have picked him up and tossed him in there. Now she walked up front, quiet and vigilant as usual.

The winds struck them head on, tinged with salt and sea foam. Hours from now, he'd be on a boat headed south to the archives, ever closer to his goal. Or to nothing. His trip had a dual purpose now. To find his mother and to deliver a message, whose importance Amadeus had stressed since they left Viperstone. But his mother came first. Once he found her, or didn't, then he'd worry about playing messenger.

"Can I ask you something, Preist?" Amadeus sat with his head leaning against the side of the wagon, legs dangling out the back and lute in hand. Strange, he'd never asked for permission to speak his mind before. Perhaps purgatory had made him delirious.

And this was the first time Amadeus allowed Claud to refuse instead of hounding him. Yet he didn't. Perhaps his three-day vigil had made him delirious, too. "Ask away."

He strummed his lute, and soft, plucky notes echoed within the wagon. "What was it like in the Priesthood?"

Claud couldn't stop the cringe tightening his shoulders. "It was... interesting being under the tutelage of the prefects. They always talked big to us, told us we weren't just fighting the netherborne, but fighting for the future of humanity. I ate it up, of course, because I was sixteen and stupid and desperate. Priests get to travel all over the world, and that's what I wanted?"

Amadeus paused his strumming. "Is it not what you got?"

He didn't miss a beat. "No. Once you join the Priesthood, you're trapped. They don't allow you to leave without the permission of someone high up. And they usually refused. The priesthood likes to keep its numbers healthy. And that's nothing compared to the other nefarious dealing they were into. It was no secret what they did to necromancers; they were proud of it."

"And you? Were you proud of it?"

"I didn't care... until I learned my mother was a necromancer. Then everything made sense. Why she left me behind. Why she stopped writing. I could listen to the other trainees talk about the executions anymore. Any of those people could've been her."

Amadeus turned his gaze to the trees. "I see. Knowledge brings clarity. The fire is becomes your enemy once you know it burns and becomes you ally when you learn it soothes."

"You're a philosopher now?" Claud asked with a snort.

"No. It's something on one of my instructors at the archives used to say. She was full of wisdom." He gave a rueful smile that made his eyes glimmer. "She'd knock me over my head if she knew how careless I'd been back there."

Claud breathed a laugh. "She sounds like a treat."

"She is." He laid back in the wagon. "Wake me when we're at the coast."

***

Claud didn't have to wake Amadeus. The noise was more than enough.

The port city had all the raucous of Avaly with none of the charm. The people shouted at each other from across the streets, over the shops and through the alleys. Heck, they spoke in high volumes even to those standing right next to them. Shepherd boys herded livestock, local and exotic, along the sides of the street. Vendors sat by the stands, either yelling sweet, enticing nothings at passerby or yelling obscenities at the "street rats" trying to steal their wares.

Claud leaned closer to Amadeus. "Is this a haven city?"

"Not exactly." He didn't shout, yet Claud heard his as if they were sitting quiet room together. "Necromancers are allowed to live here, but not in any official capacity. It's a decent enough go-between for the southern and northern havens."

He nodded and sidestepped a group of sailors stumbling out of a bar. The stench of alcohol wafting off of them made his eyes burn. If the gods favoured him, they wouldn't be working on whatever boat whisked him away from this place.

Undine led them into an alley at the heart of the market, just big enough for the wagon to squeeze through.

A mile from the buildings, a manor sat on a grassy patch of land. Stables hugged its south side, but there were no horses as far as Claud could see. The bison clopped along the stone path it head low and nose snuffling at the bushes and flowers.

Not a castle, Claud mused, but very close. He craned his neck up at the building, eyebrows raised. Gleaming windows stared down at him from walls that reminded him of an old man's hair. There was something wise about the structure, as though it had seen the first sunrise and wanted to tell him about it.

"Nice, hm?" Amadeus stood next to him with hands atop his head. "This is our hub between the south and the north. More necromancers pass through this place than all the haven cities."

"We'll rest here until tomorrow Amadeus," Undine said. "You still need to recover." She brushed past them and pounded up the porch steps. Instead of knocking, she rang her bell, and half a second later, the door swung open. A little girl stood beyond the threshold, twisting a black pigtail around a finger. She couldn't be over five years by Claud's estimation.

"Ami!" she shot off the edge of the porch, straight into Amadeus' arms.

He stumbled back into the bison with a half laugh, half grunt. "Evie. You've gotten so big. And heavy." He set the girl down and rubbed her head. "Where's everyone else?"

"They went to run errands, except Feyra, she's inside making tea or something." She pointed at Claud. "Who's that?"

"That is Claud, and both he and I would appreciate it if you remembered your manners."

Claud blinked at Amadeus' serious tone. Had he closed his eyes, he would've thought someone else was admonishing the little girl.

"Sorry." Evie rocked back on her heels. "Would you like to come inside and rest your feet, Mister Claud?"

"Please and thank you." Claud followed her up the steps into the manor. The floors shined with a fresh layer of pine-scented polish, and he slipped off his boots to keep the many miles' worth of dirt at the door. Unlike Amadeus, who had no problem leaving dust tracks in his wake.

The sitting room, with its rough, exposed wall, had a dungeon-like feel to it, balanced by the comfy couches, armchairs and hearth. Claud drifted around, the floor cold yet comforting under his bare feet.

If he didn't know any better, he would have thought this was the den of a royal—a place to retire after a long day of whatever king and queens did. In the stories Gwenore read to him all they only attended lavish parties and give order from atop a throne.

Evie skipped through an open door, the frills of her dress swishing around her legs, while Amadeus lounged on one of the couches and propped his feet up on the low table.

Claud raised an eyebrow at him. "So... Ami..."

"Don't you dare, Priest." He leaned back and closed his eyes, hands linked behind his head.

"I'm just curious is all. Is she your sister or...?" Claud raised his hands, palms forward.

"No, we found Evie in Rusted Isles when they fell to the netherborne. And we sort of... adopted her after we couldn't find her parents. She's been with us since." He smiled at the door Evie had gone through, and for a moment, he looked like a proud father. "She a good kid, spritely and too quick for her good."

Just like Tallis, Claud thought. No one could fool that kid.

Undine came through the open door with another, much taller woman. They each held a tray, the former with pastries, the latter with tea.

"You must be Claud. Quintus mentioned you in his correspondence." The woman smiled, and a dimple winked at him from her left cheek. "Call me Feyra."

"It's a pleasure." Claud returned her smile.

"Where did Evie run off to?" Amadeus asked as he picked through the selection of pastries with his bare, and probably unwashed, hands.

"I asked her to give us a minute." Feyra settled in an armchair and crossed one leg over the next. "And where are your manners Amadeus? Let our guest eat first."

He rolled his eyes. "Pease, he carried me on his back and played bed nurse at my side for three days. We're almost acquaintances."

Claud ignored the jab and poured himself a cup of tea, watched the golden liquid swirl around the porcelain. The normalcy of such a simple action was as soothing as a warm bath after being in the cold all day. He stirred two cubes of sugar into his tea and took a sip. The bitter taste latched onto the back of his tongue and held on. He didn't mind it; Gwenore had fed him so much bitter weeds as a child, it was almost nostalgic.

Amadeus however, stared into his cup as though its contents had killed his first born.

"How is it?" Feyra asked. "I'm trying some new blends."

"It tastes like it's very good for me." Undine traded in her tea for a biscuit.

"Good." Feyra dabbed at her lips with a frilly napkin. "Did you pass through Viperstone? We've been trying to get in contact with them for weeks now."

Undine exchanged a glance with Amadeus. "Viperstone is... they suffered a week-long siege, but they're slowly recovering."

Feyra's lips parted. "But the bells."

Undine shook her head. "Not enough."

Her grip on her tea cup tightened, and her shoulders gathered closers to her neck as though a draft had passed through the room. And when she spoke next, her voice came out a hoarse whisper. "Does Quintus know? And the archives?"

"That's part of the reason we're here. We need a carrier to send word ahead to Avaly. As for the archives." He nodded to Claud. "Our friend here has taken on the noble task of carrying word down there. Did you arrange a cabin on the Maiden's Pearl."

"I did, but they leave in an hour."

"I'll take Claud out to the boat." Amadeus rose from the couch and rubbed his eyes. "Let's go." He didn't wait for Claud to get up, or even thank Feyra for her hospitality. He ambled out the door like the abyss was biting at his ankles.

Still Claud gave as courteous of a smile and nod he could manage before chasing after the bastard. He found Amadeus waist deep in the wagon, grunting as he dragged his stuff from the front. "You called me Claud."

"What of it?" Amadeus shouldered his bag and started towards the alley, again leaving Claud behind.

Ah, so the insufferable attitude was back, and just when Claud was starting warm up to him. He gathered his bag and trunk and hurried through the alley. Amadeus' head bobbed up out of the stream of moving bodies like a buoy. The stench of sweat mixed with salt and alcohol and roasting meat made his head spin. He kept his belongings close, hugged them even tighter when the crowd jostled him around. The constant drone of conversation filled his head, teasing an early headache from the base of his skull.

Thank the gods the dock was only a fifteen-minute walk through the market. He'd stayed in Amadeus' wake the whole time, but fell into step with him when they reached the dock. They dodged around sailors, who walked up and down gangplanks with crates on their shoulders, passengers huddling luggage or children or both.

"There it is," Amadeus pointed to a ship at the end of the dock, narrow and long enough to take up a third of the dock space, with three masts and all the grace of a swan even while it bobbed idly on the water. They stopped near the gangplank, where family's made their way up onto the ship.

As Claud watched the dark water lap against the dock, he realized this was the last he'd see of Amadeus, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand, the bastard had been a buzzing pestilence. On the other, he'd saved Claud's skin twice. And the times when he wasn't... infuriating, he was pleasant to be around.

"Don't forget this." Amadeus held out a wooden tube engraved with three rings on each side. "I don't think I need to stress how important it is that you get this to the archives."

"You don't." Claud grabbed the message, but Amadeus didn't let go.

"I mean it, Claud. Even if you don't make it into the archives, this needs to." His jaw ticked, and he gazed past Claud for half a second. "Just, be careful."

"You called me Claud."

Amadeus yanked hard on the canister and Claud stumbled forward. Their lips crashed together, so hard their teeth clicked. The kiss was like a skyrocket, bright and explosive and wondrous, but it fizzled far too quickly, and left him shaking with anticipation, waiting for another to light up his world.

"What of it?" Amadeus asked, their lips still only an inch apart. He let both Claud and the canister go and turned on his heel so fast, the back draft clapped Claud across the face like a cold draft. Down the dock he marched without a backwards glance, his head weaving through the crowd of passengers and sailors.

And Claud stood there, staring after him, with a million unasked questions dying on his tongue.