Page 63 of The Book That Held Her Heart

“We’re looking for a room.” Arpix addressed the barkeep, a beefy man with a face so red you’d assume he was furious but for the placidity of his expression. “I mean, we want to hire one. To stay in.” Arpix forced himself to stop talking.

The man had been rubbing the inside of an empty tankard with a grimy cloth. He stopped and ran a speculative eye up Arpix before looking over his shoulder at Clovis, who had turned away to watch the entrance. “Day use?”

“I beg your pardon?” Arpix frowned.

“Day use?” the barman enunciated.

“I’m sorry, I don’t under—”

A tired-faced labourer in muddy overalls looked up from his ale. “He means are you going up there to fuck, and then pissing off, or will you only need it come night-time?”

“I uh…We. I mean.” Arpix had wanted the room immediately, so they could regroup and rest without risking being spotted. Somehow it had already gone terribly wrong. “What I mean to say is—”

“Now. For fucking.” Clovis leaned around Arpix and set both hands to the bar, staring down the barkeep. “Give him the silver, Arpix.”

Arpix found his hands shaking as he fumbled three silver coins onto the counter. He felt himself blushing furiously and imagined that he looked as red as the barkeep now. He slid the first coin forward, hoping for some sort of cue as to when he should stop. Clovis pushed a second one forward. “And tonight.”

The barkeep’s face took on a hitherto unseen animation as he claimed the coins. Arpix suspected they’d paid considerably over the odds. “And a meal,” he added. “Later.”

“Right you are, yer worship.” The man didn’t look up from his study of King Oanold’s head, stamped on the florins in his palm. He pursed his lips, frowning in puzzlement, then dropped them into his apron. “Room’s up the stairs. Third door.”

Arpix hesitated, still blushing and flustered. Finding the barkeep turning away, he ventured, “We’ll need a key?”

“No key. Encourages thieves to break the doors.”

“Ah.” And with nothing else to say, Arpix turned towards the ricketyflight of stairs that headed up at the end of the bar. Clovis was already halfway up them.

Arpix followed, sure that every eye in the tavern was watching him follow his flame-haired companion towards the bedroom.Day use…He banged his head a second time negotiating the stairs, which were at an angle most often found on ships.

The corridor at the top of the stairs smelled of spilled ale. Clovis had already gone in through the third door.

For fucking.That’s what she told the barman. Arpix shook his head. It had been their cover story.Fucking.Even Livira didn’t use that word. At least, not often.

The room proved larger than he had anticipated, though with less furniture. He had expected some. In addition to floorboards, the room boasted a thin, grey, straw-filled mattress, a small, shuttered window, and…Clovis. She closed the door behind him and went to peer out at the street.

Arpix rubbed his head and looked around as if he might have missed something. “You saved my life.”

“You saved mine first.” Clovis turned from the window, the brightness outside turning her mane to fire.

“But it was so”—Arpix had been going to sayviolent—“random.” He shook his head. “I mean. You turning up there, just when I needed you. What were the odds?” The more he thought about it the more unlikely it seemed. “Me and Hadd got stuck waiting for a big column of soldiers to march past. A returning army. We almost didn’t. The vanguard arrived at the crossroads just as we did, and Hadd thought we could get past, started pulling me across. But someone shouted. Maybe an officer. And he stopped and we waited.”

Clovis had moved closer as he spoke and stood just in front of him now, watching his face. “Uh-huh.”

“But my point is that we could so easily have made it. And if we did, then we’d have got there well ahead of you. They might have hanged me before you got there.”

Clovis put a hand on his upper arm.

“Mayland showed us all those might have beens. This whole world is a might have been, just like ours is. And he said if Oanold landed badly hemight have spread himself over a bunch of layers, each one a little bit different.”

Clovis put her other hand on Arpix’s hip. Close enough now that just inches stood between them, her chest nearly brushing his. “Uh-huh.”

“What if we landed badly? What if there were dozens of Arpixes all in nearly identical versions of this city, and dozens of Clovises, and in all of them but this one Hadd rushed over that crossing, and I got hanged before you ever knew I was in danger?”

“You think too much.” Clovis leaned closer, her face filling his vision, her eyes huge and grey, her mouth covering his next question. Her arms closed around him, drawing them tight together, her tongue invading as he tried to speak.

She pulled back after their first kiss.

“Oh,” Arpix said, realising that he’d been too tied up in his theory to see any of the signs. “That was…nice.” It had been more than nice. Strangely not at all like he had imagined kissing would be. More licky. But better. “We really should be making plans.”

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