Covenant's End Read Free

any of them that badly!”
    Another pause. “Well, yeah,” she admitted, “that probably hurt pretty bad. But he has another one that should still work just fine.”
    Widdershins—formerly Adrienne Satti, former tavern-keeper, former ex-thief, and soon-to-be-former exile from Davillon—continued along the path she hadn't, until recently, been sure she would ever tread again.
    The way home.
    â€œWhat?” she asked. Semi-violent imagery and an overwhelmed sensation ran through her mind; such was the “speech” of her unseen companion, a god foreign to Galice and who boasted, in all the world, precisely one adherent. “Well, how the happy, hopping horses am I supposed to know what's ‘normal’ here? We've only ever been on this road once before, and that was in summertime. Maybe this is the normal number of bandits along here. Or maybe, I don't know, maybe it's bandit season. That'd explain why we haven't seen many other travelers, yes? If the locals know when to stay off the highway.”
    With a frisson of both bemused and amused reluctance, Olgun pointed out the logistical paradox regarding the notion of a “bandit season” in which travelers remained home.
    â€œOh. That's a good…well, maybe it's dumb bandit season!”
    Widdershins chose to interpret Olgun's subsequent silence as meaning she'd won that particular exchange. Olgun chose to let her. They were both happier that way.
    Still and all, as the day aged and the road unwound beneath her feet, Shins had to acknowledge that something was definitely off. This was a major thoroughfare; even allowing for the unseasonable cold, even if the threat of banditry was higher than usual, such a total dearth of travelers was odd. They should be fewer , but they should not have been absent .
    It was…off. And after the previous, oh, bulk of her entire life, the young woman had developed a healthy distrust of “off.” Nothing about her posture visibly changed, but her steps grew softer and more deliberate, her attentions more focused on the world around her.
    As she was so heavily alert for danger, however, it took a subtle nudge from her divine companion before she noticed the changing aroma in the air. The lingering breath of northerly climes and the first faint perfumes of buds and blooms gradually gave way to wood smoke spiced with roasting meats.
    She was still a couple days from Davillon, so what…?
    â€œAh.”
    A small cluster of buildings made itself visible as she crested a shallow rise. Nothing even remotely impressive, just a squat structure of wood with a couple of smoke-belching stone chimneys, and a few even squatter structures scattered around it.
    Now that she saw it, Shins remembered it from her way out, last year, though only barely. At the time, she hadn't been in much of a mental state to notice anything at all, even had the place not been so forgettable. A simple trading post, taking advantage of the traffic Davillon normally received, distinguished only by its indistinctiveness.
    Except…“Shouldn't it be empty? I'm almost positive that a road without travelers doesn't provide many customers. There could even be a proverb about it. Like the one about not licking a gift horse's mouth, or however that goes.”
    Olgun could only provide one of his “emotional shrugs.”
    It wasn't as though the trading post was packed to overflowing, but it clearly did a reasonable amount of business. Several horses—none of them having been licked, presumably—were tied at a post outside the main structure. A small gathering of people here, an isolated pair there, stood around talking, smoking, generally enjoying the evening's lack of rain. Shins received her share of curious glances,if only as a young woman (apparently) traveling alone, but otherwise nobody seemed inclined to acknowledge her arrival.
    Not until she stepped up onto the rickety porch at the front of the