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By Root 517 0

The reflection got larger, clearer. If it was him, only backward, Cauvin didn’t like the view. His shirt—the better of the two he owned—was stained and shabby. Raw threads sprouted around his neck, and the thong holding his bronze slug looked like a noose tightened around his neck. Cauvin knew the color of his hair—Mina told him often enough that it was the color of the yard after a rain. He lopped it off with a knife whenever it got in his eyes. The result, according to the mirror, was a dirty brown fringe around his face, longer on top, and noticeably longer over the reflection’s right ear—his left. Cauvin’s beard was almost as ragged as his hair. He shaved once or twice a month during the warmer seasons and not at all now that the weather was cooler.

Cauvin’s nose pulled toward the right because the punch that had broken it had been a right-handed punch; the reflection’s nose pulled to the left. Cauvin couldn’t see the reflection’s eyes; they were too dark and set too deep in its head. He didn’t trust people if he couldn’t see their froggin’ eyes. If his eyes were truly as dark and deep as the reflection’s and set that close together, then he could almost understand why Mina didn’t trust him.

Worst was the reflection’s mouth—his mouth. It was small compared to the rest of his face, thin-lipped and so pale it almost wasn’t there. Leorin joked that he had a maiden girl’s mouth. Hers was womanly: wide, lush, and soft. When Cauvin tightened his lips and lowered his eyebrows, the reflection looked mean and ready for a fight. Truly, Cauvin looked no friendlier when he relaxed or smiled.

No matter how Cauvin stretched or shaped his face, his reflection remained sullen, angry, and sheep-shite stupid. Nothing added Bec’s charm to his reflection, and Grabar’s weathered honesty was every froggin’ bit as elusive.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Lord Mioklas’s voice caught Cauvin unaware. He blinked hard and saw the rich man’s reflection before spinning around to face him.

“Sorcery?” he asked about the mirror.

“A bit of magic, but not where it counts. The face you see there is the face you wear on the street at noontime, no more or less. Have you never seen your own reflection clearly? Were you surprised? Disappointed?”

Cauvin tried another silent answer.

“Don’t be,” Mioklas continued. “Not everyone can be handsome. A face like yours has its uses. Master Grabar saw that from the start. I hear you’re plenty good with your fists and not reluctant to use them. He’s wise to send you to collect the stoneyard’s debts.”

“I suppose,” Cauvin replied. Froggin’ sure, the rich man knew too much about him.

“I could find a place for you where you wouldn’t be looking at stone all day.”

“I like looking at stone.”

Mioklas went to his table. He untied a cloth and spilled a mass of silvery shaboozh onto the polished wood. The silver wasn’t the best Cauvin had seen—that froggin’ honor went to the Torch’s soldats—but a sea captain wouldn’t ask questions.

“Forty,” Mioklas said. “And two extras. Forty-two, in total. Don’t take my word for it—count them.”

With a grimace, Cauvin complied. In his slow, sheep-shite way—the only way he knew: The Torch’s magic had taught him reading, not arithmetic—he made piles of five until there were two single coins left over. Then he counted the piles on his fingers until there were two fingers left over. Forty-two.

He unslung his coin pouch. No way would it hold forty-two shaboozh, even if he threw away every chipped padpol.

“Keep the cloth,” Mioklas offered, pushing it across the table.

For reasons Cauvin couldn’t untangle, taking the cloth was worse than taking the shaboozh, but he needed something to carry the coins. He knotted them securely, creating an extra loop in the cloth to feed his belt through. The pouch was secure from a casual dip, should he bump into one on his way home—

Home. Cauvin had never felt so frog-all far from home. He threaded the knotted sack onto his belt. Looking up, he realized that Mioklas had been watching him like a hawk.

“Not taking chances, eh?”

“No, my lord.”

“An interesting