Cassia blinked in the sunlight coming through a huge, glassed window and knew she was dreaming. The light simply wasn't that pure or golden where she was in waking life. She stared out over a forest of trees with crystal green leaves, wondering if the foliage had ever really been that brilliant, or if it was simply her longing for home that made it seem so terribly beautiful.

Gentle hands brushed the heavy hair from the side of her neck and Cassia closed her eyes as familiar lips touched her skin. 

They were cold.

When Cassia turned, she found Calix standing behind her. A small cry of horror left her and she staggered back a step, shocked by what she was seeing.

He was covered in blood, his armor gone, his chainmail rent in several places, his clothes torn. Red was smeared around his eyes like some kind of ghoulish mask. His shirt and trousers were stained on his right side, originating from a spot just below his ribs.

Calix smiled at her, offering a bloody hand for her to take.

Her heart shuddered in fear and pain, but she still placed her hand in his and let him pull her a little closer. His fingers were like ice as they wrapped around hers. Hesitantly, she reached forward, brushing a few strands of blood-slick hair out of his face.

"Why do I keep dreaming of you?" she whispered. She gently tapped his temple. "Why are you always here?"

Calix smiled again, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You know why." He pulled her forward, seemingly oblivious to the stains covering him as he held her close, his mouth brushing her hair.

"Because I love you?" she whispered, her throat so tight she could barely get the words out. Ignoring the copper stench clogging her nose, she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him.

They stood like that for a few silent moments, until Cassia began to shiver. It was a bit like holding an ice sculpture. Calix let out a low chuckle when she tightened her hold as he tried to pull away.

"It's cold where I am," he said apologetically, finally succeeding in disentangling himself. He gently cupped her face with a hand and she turned her head, pressing a kiss to his palm. Blood smeared her mouth, but Calix didn't seem to mind.

His eyes turned soft as he bent his head to kiss her. Cassia stood on her toes, trying to thread her arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer, but he caught her with a knowing smile. Keeping her hands trapped between them, he pressed his lips to her forehead, her eyelids, scattering a few kisses across her cheekbones before returning once more to her mouth.

"Oh, my love," he said with a sigh, letting his forehead rest against hers, "it's so much more than that."

It took Cassia a moment to collect her addled thoughts before she realized he was continuing their conversation. Her brow furrowed and his mouth curled in a familiar, crooked little smile. He brushed another kiss across her mouth before he pulled away. 

His dark eyes glinted with love and amusement behind their grisly, red mask. "I'm surprised you haven't already realized what you've done."

"Done?" Cassia echoed, confused, then a cry of dismay tore from her throat as he turned and disappeared into the encroaching shadows between the library's massive shelves.

She leapt forward, meaning to follow him, but a strong hand gripped her arm, pulling her backwards. Cassia tipped her head up to find Marcus peering grimly down at her. She whirled to face him, but couldn't break free of the grip he had on her arm.

"You need to wake up," he said, his eyes hollow and deadly serious. "You need to see."

Cassia couldn't help but gape up at him. He lifted a hand and scrubbed his thumb just under her bottom lip. He stepped back, showing her the blood staining his skin. More blood seeped through the sleeves of his white shirt, wet and ruby-bright. "It starts here, Cassia."

"What?" she rasped.

Marcus scowled. He brandished his arm, blood spattering to the ground. "It starts here!"

"Starts?" she repeated, eyebrows drawing together. "What starts? I don't... Marcus, I don't understand."

A look of supreme frustration marred his handsome face before it softened. He sighed and stepped forward, gathering her into his arms. Cassia was so shocked she couldn't so much as blink when he buried his face in her hair. "I know," he whispered. "You still have to wake up."

Cassia felt as if she were suffocating. Her fingers clawed into Marcus' shirt and she began to struggle, trying to pull free, trying to breathe.

"Wake up."

Her eyes flew open, plunging her into a darkened room. A shape loomed over her and a scream tore at her vocal cords, muffled by the rough hand clamped over her mouth. Cassia clawed at the hand, her pared nails scrabbling uselessly at skin.

"Shh!" a voice hissed from somewhere above her. "Would you—ow!"

Cassia had jerked her head sideways, giving her just enough room to sink her teeth into the intruder's hand. They jerked away, a filthy curse muttered at her. Cassia flailed sideways, pressing against the rough wall behind her, searching for the dagger she kept beneath her pillow.

A gasp of relief burst free when her fingers curled around the warm hilt, but the feeling didn't last when the shadow lunged at her, a heavy body crushing her to the bed. Fingers wrapped with bruising force around her wrist, keeping the dagger pinned and useless beside her head

"If you stab me, kitten," Corax rasped, his breath hot against her ear, "you'll have a hell of a time getting where you need to go."

Cassia wilted in relief, sinking into the thin mattress beneath her. She closed her eyes, her chest pressing against Corax's as she gulped in breath after breath of cool air. When he was seemingly convinced that she wasn't about to try and stab him, Corax pushed himself off of her and leaned toward the small bedside table.

A match rasped and she closed her eyes at the sudden flare as he lit the stub of candle sitting beside her bed.

"What are you"—Cassia covered her eyes with her hand, groaning slightly—"doing in here, Corax?"

"Get up," he growled, rubbing his bitten hand against his chest. Cassia sat up, brows furrowing. Corax was only wearing trousers and a loose white shirt that he hadn't yet tucked in. He looked...agitated. Harried.

He cast an impatient eye over the shift she was wearing, then stood and strode over to the chest of drawers on the other side of the room. Shivering, Cassia eyed her warm covers with longing, but she'd never seen Corax looking so undone and it concerned her. She stood, wincing at the cold wood beneath her feet. The fire had burned down to dull coals that didn't do much to ward off the winter chill.

"Get dressed," Corax demanded, throwing a pale grey dress at her. He turned on his heel and flung open the door, making Cassia gasp. He gave her a dry look as she ducked to the other side of the room. "Everyone else is asleep. Now dress and go talk to Felix in the kitchen. After that, go to Viloria's office."

"You mean your office," she said sourly.

He flashed her a smile, teeth white in the candlelight. "Careful, kitten. The walls may not have eyes, but they sometimes have ears." He cast an appraising eye over her half-dressed state, grinning again when she hissed. "The kitchen first," he repeated before he left, his steps nearly running down the hall.

Cassia snarled quietly, fighting her way into the dress. It was one Corax had brought her a few weeks after she'd begun working for him. It fit tightly across her waist and the neckline was lower than she would have liked, but it also meant she didn't have to choose between constantly dirty clothes or walking around in naught but her underthings. 

She quickly braided her hair before looping it around her head and pinning it up out of her way. There was no telling why Corax had felt the need to wake her. She cast an uncertain glance at the dagger glinting dully at her from beneath her pillow, but had no way to hide it on her person. Corax had never given her a sheath or other way to carry it, lest she end up stabbing one of his customers.

Swearing at the wicked man beneath her breath, she stomped into her shoes and hurried down to the kitchens to find Felix pacing back and forth as one of the girls who worked in the kitchen labored to throw a meal together. He offered her a strained smile, but didn't say anything, which was strange in and of itself.

Despite being one of Corax's toughs, Felix had always been very kind to her, often coming up to her room after a shift to make sure she had eaten something. He had never made any kind of advance, only seeming to want a bit of conversation in return.

Cassia lingered by the door, watching as the girl ladled a creamy, steaming fish stew into three bowls. This was joined by four tankards of some of Corax's better ale and a loaf of fresh bread with a crackly golden crust. 

"Rather heavy for breakfast, isn't it?" Cassia murmured, earning a snort from Felix.

"Not if you're up all night," he said quietly, glancing over the top of her head to the quiet common room. Then he turned to the kitchen girl. "Clear out until late this afternoon."

The girl finished arranging the tray, nodded and left. Felix hefted the tray up onto his broad shoulder, then nodded at Cassia. "I'll carry it up for you, but he wants you in there."

"Why?" Cassia asked. Felix only gave her a blank stare in return, making her sigh. They never seemed to need a reason from Corax—they simply did as they were told. "Very well," she said, gesturing for him to lead the way.

They hurried up the stairs and down the hall to Viloria's office, where Felix stopped and Cassia did her best to slide past him without upsetting the tray. He handed it to her carefully, giving her an apologetic grimace when she grunted under its weight.

Quietly, he said, "Don't speak unless spoken to. Stay unless he tells you to leave. Keep any wayward opinions to yourself and please for the love of all the gods, don't spill anything."

Cassia threw him a nasty look just to find him grinning in amusement, the boyish dimples that framed his smile making her soften. With a sigh, she nodded as best she could. Then she raised an eyebrow. "Why did Corax want me here?"

"The boss always has a reason," Felix said, infuriatingly vague. Then he opened the door and nudged her inside.

Cassia cast her eyes to the floor, concentrating hard on where she put each step until she got to the table. Only then did she dare to glance up, trying to suss out what would have thrown the Raven's Well into such turmoil.

At a glance, she found three other men besides Corax, all of them Sorian. Their skin tones ranged from almond brown to black, all with deep black hair. One man wore his hair in long braids, the other two with hair that curled just around their ears. They watched her with keen black eyes as she placed their meals before them.

When she placed the fourth tankard of ale before Corax, she raised a subtle eyebrow. He just blinked once and she straightened, tucking the tray beneath her arm. She frowned upon getting a better look at him. Rather than his usual faded leather vest and rough-spun trousers, she found him in a vest of fine cobalt brocade over a snowy white shirt and tailored leather breeches. His boots were shined black leather that came up nearly to his knees.

He took a sip of the ale only after the other men had begun to eat. Then he shifted in the chair, gesturing toward his knee. Cassia gave him a flat stare, but set the tray down before settling gracefully on his lap. She draped her arm across his shoulders to keep her balance, her other hand playing with the collar of his shirt.

The Sorians didn't so much as glance at her, and she took the opportunity to study them a bit more closely. They wore plain wool shirts and faded leather trousers tucked into heavy black boots, but these were no simple sailors. As they ate and drank, she caught the bright flash of gold and jewels. Upon closer inspection, she found their hands encrusted with rings of gold set with rubies, emeralds and sapphires.

She turned to give him a questioning look, but Corax ducked his head and began nuzzling her neck. Cassia took the hint and kept still, letting his lips brush across her skin. It was a play they'd performed before, when Corax wished to appear bored or uninterested during a negotiation.

And seeing as how Cassia was the only one who knew he wouldn't try to press an advantage, she allowed it. Besides, being witness to Corax's unique brand of bargain and intimidation was far more entertaining than serving food and ale to rowdy sailors.

Highly educational, even.

By the time the men finished eating, Corax had progressed from her shoulder up to her neck and was currently nipping lightly at her earlobe and pressing kisses to the corner of her jaw. When the man directly across from them pushed his empty bowl aside, Corax bit her ear with more force than she'd expected, making her gasp. She whipped her head around in surprise and Corax cupped her jaw with a gentle hand before he kissed her, making her stiffen in shock.

Not entirely sure what he was doing, she played along, resting her hand on his chest. Below her palm, his heart thumped a faster rhythm than she had been expecting.

When he broke away, he gave her a warning glance before turning his attention to the men.

"'Arha kib," he said softly in Sorian. I welcome you.

The men nodded graciously. The man on Cassia's right—the one with black skin and braided hair—leaned back in his seat, taking a slow sip of his ale. He wrinkled his nose a little. Cassia wondered why Corax hadn't served the spiced wine most Sorians preferred. 

"We hadn't expected you until later this week," Corax said in Metian, his gravelly voice far more polite than she had ever heard it before. "Viloria has left on other business and won't be back for another three days."

The men all shared a glance before the one across from Corax said, "The seas were kinder than expected."

Corax nodded, taking another sip of ale. The sharp odor of the alcohol bit at Cassia's nose as she kept her eyes locked on the table just in front of the Sorian leader. Her fingers now played idly with an ebony button on Corax's vest. She knew that continuing with the role of his plaything was the only way she was going to find out what was happening here.

"Not so very kind," Corax finally said, his voice deceptively soft.

The man with the braids turned his head sharply, glaring at Corax, but he said nothing. Cassia shifted and rested her head on Corax's shoulder so she could look at the Sorians' leader without being too obvious.

He was older than his companions by several years. Perhaps a little older than Corax, around thirty-five years or so. His face was weathered by the sun and wind, but his eyes were shrewd and more than a little cold. Several gold and diamond earrings winked at her in the candlelight.

"You have...heard of our troubles?" the Sorian asked, his words lightly accented. Nearly musical.

"Word travels fast over the water," Corax replied.

Noncommittal. Treading lightly. It made Cassia's muscles tense and Corax pressed his mouth to the juncture between her neck and shoulder—a warning. She forced herself to relax.

"Then you will already know what it is you have lost." The Sorian took a sip of his ale.

There was a moment of silence. Then: "What I have lost?"

She knew that tone of voice. She'd come to recognize the soft burr of danger in his words. When Cassia tensed this time, Corax did nothing to dispel her unease.

The Sorian set his tankard down with care, the soft clack echoing in the quiet room. Cassia suddenly wished she was clever enough to slide the knife she knew was resting on his hip from its sheath. Or that she had run the risk of carrying her own dagger.

"Your master chartered my ship," the Sorian said. "You paid for the goods on board."

"Yes." Corax moved, his hand slipping toward that knife on his belt. "And yet, Viloria finds himself conspicuously lacking in silk, wine and spices. The things he paid for."

Cassia looked at the men with new interest. They would be sailing back to Soria. Her eyes darted over their rough clothes and fine jewelry. Merchants, she wondered...or pirates? She knew Corax was certainly not above dealing with, well, anyone.

"It is unfortunate," the other man began, his eyes narrowing.

"Unfortunate would be if your ship was currently at the bottom of the Belorian, with your bodies filling the bellies of the sharks and deep sea fishes." Corax sat up a little straighter. "Enlighten me, Captain. Please."

Cassia nearly choked on her surprise. She hadn't realized that word was in his vocabulary.

The Sorian looked at Corax for a long time, but Cassia had watched the man stare down Marcus a little less than a week ago. There was certainly no way he was going to back down from the Sorian captain, no matter how nice he pretended to be.

Cassia's gaze flicked among the men. Curiously, the one with his hair in braids was staring at her, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. When he found himself holding her attention, his teeth flashed in a dazzling smile that vanished so quickly she wasn't entirely sure she'd actually seen it. The man slumped back in his chair, crossing his arms as he waited for his captain to answer.

"The islands have become rather...treacherous, as of late," the captain finally said when Corax showed no sign of attempting to break the uncomfortable silence.

Corax sighed through his nose, his breath tickling the skin of Cassia's neck. "You were boarded?"

"It has happened before."

"Sure," Corax said amiably. "Sure it's happened before. Except this time, it sounds like they took you for everything." He shifted beneath her. "Sounds like you've lost quite a bit."

The Sorian pursed his lips, the skin around his eyes tightening into an unpleasant look. "You understood the risk—"

"No," Corax interrupted, all pretense of politeness gone. "I understood that once you brought Viloria's goods, it would be my responsibility to smuggle it into the city, like always. Fine. It's not nearly as hard as others make it out to be. What I do not understand is why you seem to be refusing to make a fair return. We didn't get what we paid for. I will not insult you by demanding what is rightfully ours."

"And what is it you suppose is rightfully yours?" the man with braids asked quietly. He didn't sound hostile, but Cassia was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was between him and Corax.

"As I said," Corax replied, "I will not insult you in such a way. You know very well what is owed."

Again, there was a flash of teeth from the other man—a brief amusement—but it was just as soon gone. Cassia shot a surreptitious glance at the captain to find him scowling at the other man. 

The captain leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the table. "We will not be held responsible for an event we could not control." He smiled thinly. "Would you demand recompense if our ship had been sunk by a storm or taken by a naval patrol?"

"If that had happened, you'd be dead or imprisoned, and we wouldn't be having this conversation, now would we?" Corax lightly tapped her leg and she sprang up, scooting around to the back of his chair. He leaned forward as well, the muscles in his back and shoulders bunched with irritation. "The fact that you're here tells me you paid for safe conduct using Viloria's goods. You sold something that was not yours to sell."

"You expect us to carry the cost?" the captain said, his words tight and controlled. Cassia could practically see him losing his temper.

"A refund," Corax returned mildly, "would not be unexpected."

"You cannot expect—"

"You agreed to bring us what we paid for. By doing so, you became responsible for those items." Corax sat back, his hand resting on the hilt of his knife beneath the table. "If pirates had come and stolen those goods right off the dock, then it would be my problem. But they weren't stolen from me. They were stolen from you. Now you owe me, because I don't particularly care for the idea of being the one who has to tell Viloria that he's just wasted four hundred silver."

"Four hundred?" the captain spluttered. "You promised us six!"

Corax cocked his head. "Four for the goods, two hundred more upon delivery." He looked around the room, like he was expecting to find those missing goods piled around him. "There was no delivery, though, was there?"

"You cannot—we—completely absurd—"

Corax slammed his hand on the table, stopping the spill of words trying to erupt from the captain's mouth. "Enough," he hissed, any hint of civility long gone. "I will pay two hundred for your troubles and you will reimburse Viloria for the goods you sold. Four hundred is a small price to pay for keeping your skin on your bones and your head above your shoulders."

"And if we refuse?" the captain asked, recovering his stiff demeanor. 

Cassia shivered at the chill emanating from Corax. "Good luck finding a better smuggler. The roads you've managed to cut into Metus will be closed and I imagine the king would take a great deal of pleasure in watching your men fight it out in his arena. If he doesn't just hang you in the harbor and leave your bodies to rot as a warning."

"You wouldn't dare," the captain said, though his skin had drained of color. "You would be implicated as well."

Corax laughed, a cruel caw of a thing. He gestured to what remained of his arm. "You think His Majesty would believe your filthy Sorian lies over the word of a man who's lost blood and flesh for his cause? A man who's just trying to carve out a life for himself now that he can no longer serve?" Corax turned his head and spit in contempt at the idea.

He was right. The king would never punish one of his soldiers when he could punish a foreigner—especially a Sorian—instead. In this case, though, Cassia would have to agree some justice would have been done.

Once more, Cassia found her gaze straying to the dark-skinned man. His face was little more than a mask, but cautious fury radiated in his dark irises. "What if we simply decided to take our business elsewhere?" he asked, his accent rolling through the syllables.

Cassia couldn't help it. A small hiccup of laughter escaped her. She had heard the response to this threat before. Corax turned in his seat to look at her, eyebrows raised. "You have something to say?"

"There is no other place to take your business," she said, letting her gaze move to the men. The captain looked appalled that she would dare to speak, but Corax's anger had settled into amusement. He gestured for her to continued. She took a step forward so she was standing beside him. He caught her hand up and pressed it to his mouth. 

"None of the other smugglers have half the resources that Viloria does," she continued, reciting what she'd heard Corax say dozens of times. "Whatever pride you salve by denying us our due will not be worth what you lose in revenue and goods. Viloria is the most experienced smuggler in the city by far. He has men at every dock and a few handy officials in his pocket. Without him, you might as well give up on business in Levitum."

In all of Metus, really, considering that every other port city was less than half the size and not nearly as accessible as the ports here.

"Unless," she added as if it were an afterthought, "you would prefer to lose shipment after shipment to Metian dock patrols, or have something...happen to the goods after they've made land."

She knew Corax was certainly not above raiding the warehouses of his competitors, especially if he could make a point in the process.

"Who is this woman who thinks to speak among men?" the captain snapped, making Cassia snarl under her breath.

"Apparently, the only other person in the room with more than half a brain in her skull," Corax said lazily, tugging Cassia back down into his lap. "As far as I can tell, she's the only one who seems to grasp your situation."

For a moment, the captain just opened and shut his mouth like a beached fish. Then he lunged to his feet, hand shooting toward his hip. Cassia attempted to leap to her feet and get out of Corax's way, but his hand clamped down on her arm.

"What would you suggest," the words cut through the tension like a knife, "in order to...resume a more friendly relationship?"

It was the man with braided hair who had spoken. He leaned forward, and Cassia heard the quiet jingle of metal. On closer inspection, she found his hair threaded through with small golden beads. The captain still had his hand on the hilt of the curved sword at his hip, but had stopped at the words.

"A return on your investment, perhaps?" The man reached into his coat and pulled a small leather pouch from an inner pocket. He tossed it onto the table, silver coins spilling musically across the wood.

"No," the captain snarled, but the power in the room had already shifted and not even Cassia gave him another glance.

Corax reached forward, picking up one of the coins. He flipped it over his knuckles, the light flashing off the silver mesmeric. Cassia waited for him to tell her to sweep the money from the table, but he didn't.

Instead, he said, "Viloria prefers to deal in favors, Nasir. You failed to deliver his goods, it only seems fair that you deliver at least something."

"Viloria has something he would like to ship?" Nasir raised a brow, interest sparking briefly in his dark eyes.

A chill of apprehension suddenly shivered down her spine.

"Not something," Corax said slowly and Cassia's heart caught mid-beat. "Someone."