Chapter 178

Soon after, Zoey left for Sabina’s shop. There were a number of tasks that needed to be dealt with before their accelerated departure. Of them, Sabina was Zoey’s responsibility. Fe, in the same crafting district, would be her next stop, and Adrienne her last. Delta would be handling Maddy and Aria. Rosalie, arranging new guides for the trip.

She hoped everyone would be able to leave early, since she would much rather they made the long trip through the Fractures as a group. Such expeditions were dangerous, and having a squad of four wayfarers meant everyone would be much safer. Besides, the many hours of hiking would be more tolerable if she had Sabina there to continue her alchemy tutelage. Several days of hiking could quickly become a chore, but the company would make it less so.

As she hurried through the streets—it was deep in the evening, though night hadn’t quite fallen—Zoey’s thoughts couldn’t help but stray to the events of the past hour. So much had happened, and so quickly, that her head was still spinning.

First, there was Lucinda. Who was she, really? Zoey hardly thought Rosalie was lying about the woman being her mentor, but it felt like an incomplete explanation. The older woman had a presence. In the way a mountain ‘had a presence.’ And the armor she’d equipped, that thick black plate mail, and her stretching obsidian spear. It’d been the most intricate, menacing set of equipment Zoey had ever seen.

Zoey knew she couldn’t equate the appearance of gear to its strength or rarity in every case, but considering this was Rosalie’s mentor, she suspected it was safe to do so. How strong was Lucinda? What advancement? How important of a figure was she, in the Deepshunters Guild?

For that matter, who was Rosalie? It was a question Zoey had been not ignoring, exactly, but had definitely set to the side, happy to let Rosalie give Zoey the answer in her own time. It didn’t matter to Zoey, not really, but considering recent developments, she found herself more curious than ever.

There was also the fight. Zoey’s first combat against other people. And what an explosive first. The image of Rosalie’s spear punching through the woman’s stomach was constantly intruding her thoughts. That strike had been aided by Zoey’s empowering spell; the splatter of blood was on her hands as much as Rosalie’s. Zoey had seen plenty of gore while fighting monsters, but this had been a person’s blood. An injury created by Rosalie’s—and Zoey’s—explicit efforts. That was a different matter. She still felt woozy, remembering the encounter.

And she was frustrated with herself for that. She’d known this adventure between worlds was going to come with violence, and not just violence restricted to mindless creatures. Of course, she would minimize it where possible, but conflict was in her future—with real people. She had come to terms with that; she was hardly stupid enough to have ignored the possibility. Still, that didn’t mean she could brush past how she and Rosalie had nearly killed a woman. Even if wayfarers were durable, that shot had been devastating. It’d left a literal hole in her stomach.

Almost more than that, it’d been Rosalie’s reaction to everything. Not just the lack of hesitation she had acted with, but how little regard she showed for the wound she’d inflicted. Then afterward, the incredulity in her voice when Zoey had shown concern over her injuries. Rosalie was right; all things considered, it’d been a few scrapes, easily healed by a potion. But still.

Altogether, it served as a stark reminder of the company Zoey had fallen into. Who her girlfriend was. A warrior. Not in some fantasy romanticized sense: Rosalie killed things for a living. She had trained for combat her entire life. Bloodshed and violence didn’t give her a second’s pause. Not even when her opponents were living, breathing people.

Perhaps Rosalie had purposefully avoided killing that woman when she easily could have, but she might not have been overly bothered if it had been necessary. Had Rosalie killed someone already, even? Would that not have been her first?

What had her training been like, growing up? What trials had she faced to earn the talent she so effortlessly displayed? For all Zoey had considered the topic in an abstract way, the questions seemed far more real, after their last fight. Zoey should have put more effort into learning about Rosalie’s past, however much the woman purposefully guided conversations away from the topic.

On the trip over to the crafting district, Zoey didn’t quite manage to steady her swimming thoughts. But her concerns were replaced with immediate matters. Finding Sabina’s storefront, she tested the front door, only to find that it was locked. Fortunately, she had a key; she pulled it out and let herself in.

Sabina was in her workshop. Zoey hadn’t expected to find the woman anywhere else, even late into the evening. Sabina’s work was her entire life. The tall, antlered woman glanced over at Zoey as she appeared at the workshop doorway, having heard the bell jingle on her way in.

“Zoey,” Sabina said in polite greeting, keeping her attention on her boiling cauldron. “What brings you here, at this hour?”