LADY OF SHADOWS ☞ JESPER FAHEY (ON HOLD)

ONE

ANASTASIA MISSED THE CLEAN, fresh scent of the Wandering Isle from the moment she stepped off of the ship.

Ketterdam, with all its trade and life, smelled like a mixture of fish and trash. She wrinkled her nose at the odor and turned to Clara, who looked equally disgusted.

"You really had to pick the most putrid city on this side of the True Sea, didn't you?" Clara grumbled, her blue eyes crinkled with annoyance. "I mean, even the Southern Colonies smelled better than this."

Anastasia frowned as she surveyed the city before her. "You know it was time to come back. It was only a matter of years before we had to leave."

It was true—even though Clara had been by her side for more than two hundred years, she had never grown used to their constant migration. And they'd stayed in one place, in the Wandering Isle, for longer than they should have. People were starting to ask questions as to why the two girls should have been in their late thirties but still appeared to be, at the very most, twenty years old. But they'd liked the Wandering Isle, more than they'd liked any of the places they'd been to in the past two centuries.

Returning to the western continent was out of the question. Everyone in Ravka knew Anastasia or, at least, her brother, and word traveled fast; they'd be hunted like a herd of cattle in Fjerda; and the people of Shu Han were not welcoming to foreigners.

That had left only Kerch in the options of where to travel to, since they'd been to every place other than Kerch in the past hundred years.

Clara had groaned and protested the entire way across the sea, but Anastasia remained steely in her intentions. They had to go somewhere that no one living knew who they were.

Clara looped her elbow through Anastasia's. "You know, Vera," She put emphasis on her companion's fake name. "I think you've just been craving a bit of excitement. And what is Ketterdam, if not excitement?"

"I've been craving a place where no one questions things, where people who want to hide stay hidden." Anastasia replied flatly, not amused, even though Clara was the best company she'd had in her four hundred years of life.

There had been others, people drawn to the raw energy and power that thrummed just under Anastasia's skin, that had attempted to be her accomplice over the years, but none had been as steadfast as Clara, who brought humor to dark moments and enjoyed a game of cards as much as Anastasia did.

The girls went deeper into the city, looking for lodging that was at least decent. That was, apparently, a hard thing to find, for every inn they came across seemed more like a brothel.

They finally settled on the best-looking tavern that had rooms for rent on the floors above it, one that didn't have scantily-clad ladies advertising out front.

Despite being on the run, Anastasia still had standards and clung to the tiniest bits of finery she could. She preferred a place to stay that didn't have unsavory stains on the mattresses.

When they entered the tavern and approached the front desk, Anastasia let Clara do the talking; Clara, laden with abilities in her own regard, didn't radiate power the way that Anastasia did. Anastasia drew attention, while Clara, if she was careful, did not.

"Hello, kind sir." Clara said sweetly in an accent, one native to the Wandering Isle, that she had managed to imitate from their years abroad. "I'd like to rent a room with two beds from you for the next few weeks."

Anastasia smiled internally. She could practically smell the manipulation, subtle and clever, of her Heartrender companion, and she was glad that others, specifically regular humans, could not pick up on the Small Science.