Chapter ONE - Weebly

toward the bar. “Well, you here, so you might as well
sit an’ drink with me.”
She poured him a cup of Madeira, and then he
followed her to the hearth, where a fire burned. They
sat at a small table and Ethan sipped his wine, which
Janna had watered quite a bit. He shouldn’t have been
surprised. Given how much she drank, undiluted
Madeira would have left her broke and soused.
“You come for a healin’ tonic?” she asked, sitting
forward in her chair and eyeing his battered face.
Ethan chuckled, though once more he wished that
he could have healed himself without raising the
suspicions of Henry, Derne, and others. “No.”
“Who did that t’ you?”
“Who do you think?”
Her expression turned stony. “Sephira Pryce.”
Janna didn’t really like anybody. She tolerated
Ethan because he was a conjurer, and she could be
charming at times when her work demanded it. But she
treated strangers with contempt, and wasn’t much nicer
to people she knew. Aside from a scrawny black dog
that occasionally came by her place, she had no friends