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and I can’t leave.” Not until she obtained the justice she needed. The crushing grief and horrible anger that had gripped her when she swore that oath had eased. What held her now was as much stubbornness as anything. She
would
someday, somehow get justice for her murdered family, just as she’d promised.
    Jax shrugged. He didn’t seem at all interested in her reasons for refusing to leave. “Learn the magic. There’s not many who’ll dare cross a blood sorceress in her power. If they raise a fuss, we’ll deal with it then.”
    Oh, she wanted to. Wanted it desperately.
It wasn’t evil
. Who would have thought? It was just knowledge. Knowledge about magic she already practiced in small ways. And it was the
more
she’d craved for so long. Magic that held justice in its bleeding heart. She wanted it. But did she dare?
    Jax offered her more tea, and when she turned him down, took her mug to the dishpan. He poured more tea for himself. “So,” he said. “I thought I might begin with your roof. I noticed the thatching was a bit thin in a few—”
    He broke off at a racket of caws from outside, Crow crying alarm. “Someone’s coming. Not from the village. They’re armed.”
    How did he know that from a crow’s call?
Amanusa’s gut churned, though she was grateful for the warning. This time, they wouldn’t take her by surprise.
    Jax was patting around his waist as if looking forweapons. He would get himself killed if he tried to fight—at least six of them always came together.
Dear God, how she hated them.
    Amanusa caught his arm. “They won’t hurt me. Nor you, if I tell them not to. I think.” She hoped.
    â€œWho are they?”
    â€œOutlaws. Anarchists. Revolutionaries. They hide in the mountains and plot freedom for Transylvania from the wicked Hapsburgs.” Amanusa began gathering her tins of dried herbs and jars of salve, crushing the surge of fear and hate that made her hands tremble.
Don’t let them see.
    â€œWhat do they want with you?”
    â€œHealing. Doubtless they’ve got themselves into another fight trying to rob an imperial shipment of something or other and need patching up again. We have a bargain, the anarchists and I. I heal them when they need it, and they leave me alone the rest of the time.”
    â€œWill they be staying long?” Jax stood to the side of the open door, peeking out at intervals.
    Amanusa paused, realizing she hadn’t explained, then went back to her gathering. “They won’t be staying at all. They don’t come to me for healing. I go to them.”
    The realization struck her a fraction after it did Jax, for he already stared at her, horrified. “I cannot stay behind.”
    â€œHow can—? They’ll kill you.” Amanusa tried to think.
    Jax threw his greatcoat and jacket under Amanusa’s bed and yanked the blanket off it. With a kitchen knife, he sawed a hole in the center and popped his headthrough it. “I’m your servant,” he said. “I’m simpleminded. Treat me like I haven’t the sense of a child and maybe they won’t mind me coming along.”
    He scraped his expensive boots against the floor to scuff them up a bit more and scrubbed his hands through his hair to make it stand up as he let his face go slack. Dear Lord, the man suddenly
looked
like an idiot.
    She stared at him in shock until the chink of metal outside reminded her of the situation. She plunged into her role. “I’ll need a bag for myself, Jax. It’s in the drawer under the wardrobe.”
    He bobbed his head and walked awkwardly to it. “Here?”
    â€œYes. Do hurry.” Amanusa turned back to her medicines, carefully wrapping the heavy jars in rags so they wouldn’t clink in their wooden case and perhaps break.
Do nothing to anger them.
    â€œI see you were expecting us.” The outlaws’