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with red. The sharp angles of his high cheekbones flushed pink with fits of laughter, which rang out loudly and unevenly over the deafening clamor.
    “Syd, Syd, Syd,” he said, shaking his head.
    “What?” I asked flatly. “Can we go up to our rooms yet?”
    “Rooms!” He laughed. “What makes you think I got more than one? I’m not a money bag, you know.”
    I sucked in a sharp breath. “That is completely inappropriate! It’s—It’s not proper, but apparently you wouldn’t know that. You wouldn’t know a moral if it slapped you in the face.”
    North leaned back in his chair, whispering conspiratorially to the man sitting behind him. “Not proper, she says. After everything we’ve been through!”
    The other man shook his head, as if he had been privy to our entire story. “You’ve caught yourself a cold fish, my friend,” he said, and the other men and women at his table laughed.
    North rocked forward in his chair again, narrowly missing my foot. He leaned—fell, really—across the table, reaching for my hands. I snatched them away immediately. The heat was rising in my face, no matter how many steadying breaths I took. I could hear my father’s voice in the back of my mind, whispering an old proverb. Of all things in life, forgiveness is the most difficult. If we can forgive, we can let go of the insidious anger that moves our souls to grief .
    It was the most difficult—too difficult.
    “Give me the key,” I said. “I’ll go upstairs by myself.” All I really wanted to do was weave myself into a mood that resembled calm. North dug around in his pockets for the key.
    He waved the thing through the air with great fanfare and ceremony before placing it in my hand. I closed my fist around it, wondering if I could lock him out.
    “If you want, Syd, you can share my…my…” North’s voice trailed off.
    I kicked my chair out of the way, pushing through the crowd toward the stairs.
    “Syd!” he called, and everyone else quieted down. “Syd, I was going to let you have the bed!”
    The woman to the left of me laughed so hard she was practically sobbing into her pint. I knocked into the next man, nearly taking him down to the floor. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
    “I hope you choke on your tongue, you miserable human being!”
    “Wizard,” I heard him correct me weakly. “I…am…a wizard!”
    “Some wizard you are!” I whirled back around. “How about using some of your magic to sober your sorry, drunken self up? And stop calling me Syd!”
    I stormed up the staircase, ready to slam our door shutagainst the tavern’s laughter and North’s infuriating smile. My hand was tight on the railing, my eyes firmly on the trail of muddy footprints leading to the upstairs hall. The suffocating heat and movement of the tavern was behind me, but its smell was inescapable.
    The single window in the hallway was propped open by a thin book. I went toward it and forced the stubborn wood frame open the rest of the way. When it finally gave, a rush of cool air was my reward.
    I stuck my head out into the night, and for one peaceful moment, I just breathed. We hadn’t stopped moving since leaving Cliffton, save for the few hours each night I could convince the wizard I needed to sleep. He was always talking, always moving, never stopping.
    At this time of night, the bridges of Dellark were haunting but not frightening. Every now and then a couple would cross a bridge, laughing, so wrapped up in each other’s company they didn’t notice the full moon’s reflection in the dark water. Its face hovered there among the stars until a breeze came along and smeared them all away.
    I leaned back, retreating into the warmth. The stars weren’t nearly as bright as they were in Cliffton, though I could make out each constellation. Astraea the magic giver, Salvala the sword bearer…
    I barely noticed the tap on my shoulder, but it was impossible to ignore the full, flushed face of the man who had appeared