Page 48 of Silvercloak

“I need you to look up a person for me.”

Actually, Saff needed Auria tofinda person. But she would take this one thing at a time.

Auria stiffened like she’d been struck by aneffigiascurse.

“I can’t do that.” Auria absently fondled the silky fabric of her silver cloak.

“Please,” Saff pushed. “I need this information.”

Auria shook her head impenetrably. “I’m sorry. I can’t help.”

Saff understood Auria’s resistance—she wanted to be Grand Arbiter one day, to bring charges on behalf of the Crown, to shape mandates on what was good and right. She had a Knight’s Scroll in Common Law and worked in the courts as a prosecutor before applying to the Academy. Why would she throw all that away now? Why would shego against her own rigid moral code for something so trivial, for a publicly shamed friend she seemed embarrassed to know at all?

Auria was the kind of person who, when a loved one did or said something she didn’t like—something that challenged her shiny worldview—would rather end the relationship than try to understand or reconcile. After arguments, she would give the cold shoulder for weeks or months or forever, cutting the antagonism clean out. Self-preservation was the charitable explanation, but Saff often suspected it was to do with the desire for a perfect world, a perfect life. Auria could not handle imperfect people.

So how could she convince Auria without explicitly saying their lives were on the line? If Saff admitted she was here under duress, Auria would slip straight into Silvercloak mode, asking for details and possibly even pursuing a premature arrest of Levan Celadon—an arrest that would never stick to a charge, with the corrupt Grand Arbiter Dematus at the helm. On the other hand, if she warned that Auria herself was in danger, Auria would take it as intimidation, and Saff would probably wind up in Duncarzus before the night was through. That charge would certainly hold up.

Time to spin yet another lie.

“My uncle is in trouble. I just need to know how much.”

Now Auria did return Saff’s gaze. “Is the person you’re looking for threatening him in some way?”

“I can’t share the details.”

“Well, your uncle needs to come to us, rather than sending you to elicit information illegally. I’d be happy to help him, Saff. You know we’re good at what we do.”

Please just take the Saints-damned bait,Saff screamed internally.“He won’t do that. He’s terrified.”

The barkeep slid the three drinks over the bar, and Auria passed him three ascens. “Then there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”

The words had a spine, and Saffron grudgingly respected them.

Still, she couldn’t go back out there and tell Levan she’d failed. Her connection to Auria was the only thing keeping her alive.

“Is there nothing I can do to convince you?” Saff pleaded.

Something dark came down behind Auria’s blue eyes. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

She almost spat the wordbribe,as though it were the deepest insult she’d ever received. Auria was not particularly known for her venality.

“No!” Saff insisted. “Saints, no. I just … I’m desperate.”

Auria swallowed her flamebrandy in one gulp, winced at the burn, then said with an air of finality, “I’m going to find Tiernan.”

With a billow of her silver cloak, she left the Jaded Saint.

SAFF TRAIPSED BACK TO THE BOOTH, BOOTS DRAGGING, ANOTHERgrim plan forming in her mind. She slid Nissa the flamebrandy tumbler and folded herself onto the bench.

“Killor, please.” There was no actual pleading in Nissa’s tone, but there was a trace of kindness. This was significant, as Nissa was the sort of person who usually found kindness patronizing. “Tell me what’s happening.”

Saff shook her head vehemently, but it was all for show. “I can’t involve you in this.”

Of course, she would have to.

She loved—orhadloved—Nissa. But there was nothing she would not do to bring down the Bloodmoons. If that made her an irredeemable wretch, so be it.

Nissa looked offended. “But you were willing to involve Auria?”

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