Steam rises past her cheeks. Leah sighs quietly, and opens her eyes.

Eschen is watching her cautiously, across the pool, head no longer lounging back in relaxation but turned to her, alert.

Leah shifts a half-inch lower into the water.

“Are you going to stay this time?” he asks.

Leah shrugs a tiny bit, barely moving. “I guess I need to, if I want sleep.”

“Good.”

“Don’t.”

Eschen looks at her, curiously.

Leah sinks another half-inch. “Just don’t. Don’t say…anything.”

“Talking is the only reason I brought you here.”

Leah’s spine tingles a bit, and she resists the urge to wake up. “Brought me?”

“Invited you.” Eschen shrugs an arm, casual. “Ever since your accident, every time we’ve spoken in person it has ended with you attacking me.”

“Me attacking you?”

“The tin cup,” Eschen says, rubbing his jaw. “Then you challenged me to a duel. Then you tried to seduce me and stab me.”

“That wasn’t – I was just trying to get the dagger back.”

“ – And most recently,” Eschen continues, unperturbed. “You tried to get the jump on me while I was distracted with catching the Baroness.”

Leah frowns but does not speak. Eschen watches her, eyes locked with hers. Leah wants desperately to look away, but as long as he’s looking at her eyes…Things could be worse. “So you want to talk.”

Eschen nods. “How did you survive the quicklime bomb? The stab was one thing, but the cloud of dust…”

“Kiess, I think it’s called,” Leah says. Best not to mention the potion.

The captain raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been learning magic?”

“When I have the time.”

“Yes, I can believe you’ve been busy.”

Leah’s frown deepens, and she shifts a little lower in the water. “How are you doing this?”

“Magic.”

“Not gonna give me any more than that?”

“Azzieda Broiv Haddh Enao.” He enunciates clearly. Leah tries to commit the words to memory.

“To talk to me while I’m asleep?”

Eschen sinks a little lower into the water with a deep breath, bringing his arms in. Leah rises a smidge to keep away from him, hands slipping a bit on the smooth stone of the pool. “If it were working properly, no.”

Leah snaps to attention. “Oh?”

“Its purpose is to trap a person’s mind while they sleep, to allow the caster to wander through the memories uninterrupted. As you have demonstrated twice now by waking up, it is not working.”

Leah stiffens a little, breathing carefully. “Why?”

“Why this spell? Because you do not give honest answers when left to your own will.”

“I haven’t lied to you, that I can remember,” Leah says hotly. “The fact that you can compel me to tell the truth any time you wish sort of makes lying ridiculous.”

“Oh, with the – ” Eschen holds his hand out, miming grabbing a person’s neck, and Leah presses herself flat against the back wall of the pool.

“Don’t.”

He pauses, then pulls his arm back. “Why? This is a dream-state, no magic would work here anyway.”

Leah glares at him, shaking with rage. “Don’t.”

Eschen returns the glare. “You might have to be a bit more specific – ”

Leah swings her arm and splashes him, shutting him up. “This. Is this part of the spell? The baths under Valerin?”

Eschen wipes the water from his face, with a brief flicker of a smile. “The place is not important.”

“Yet you chose this,” Leah says, seething. “And don’t you fucking pretend that it was an unbiased choice.”

“The mineral waters are good for one’s recovery,” he says lightly, arms waving slowly just under the surface, creating ripples.

Leah scoffs. “Motherfucker.”

Eschen’s eyes widen. “What?”

“You’re actually going to pretend it’s about the mineral water.” She hunches down under the waterline, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, ankles crossed. “Ask me your fucking questions and let me get out of here.”

Eschen’s face loses some of its relaxed poise. He regards her neutrally, eyes flicking over her face but never lower. “Lord Seffon’s forces have apparently been supplying medicine to the Valerid estate, without permission from the Devadiss contingent. I understand that you said he declared for Valerin, but why? Why does he care so much about his centuries-old enemies all of a sudden?”

“Because they’re not his enemies, they’re Devad’s. Also because you used bombs filled with caustic powder, and the soldiers in the hospital were in agony. Where I’m from that sort of weaponry would be considered a war crime.”

“Algi?”

Leah narrows her eyes. “What do you know of Algi?”

Eschen is silent for a moment. “They have not declared, yet, and are unlikely to. They dislike Cheden, and are neutral towards Volst. When they do join a war, it tends to turn the tides. Never underestimate bards.” He finishes with a ghost of a smile.

“I can agree with that much,” Leah says, miming lifting a glass in toast.

Eschen mimics the motion, but does not reach over to mime the clink. “I don’t suppose you’d want to tell me what Lord Seffon’s angle is.”

“I don’t suppose you’d want to tell me yours.”

The water continues to trickle quietly around them, refilling the bath with fresh water and carrying the old away. Eschen watches Leah in silence for a long moment.

“Did you intend to become so embroiled in this conflict?” Eschen asks, gently.

Leah shrugs, keeping her balance on the narrow seat of the pool. “The first thing I knew for sure about this world was that I wanted to keep my friends safe. You’ve been hurting them at every opportunity.”

“Not every opportunity. Just this past day I had lunch with Lord Valerid and captain Havren, discussing terms for the city, and how Volst would respond to its occupation.”

Leah exhales sharply, not quite a laugh.

“Also, I saw Miss Ilbrin in the hospital you mentioned. She is still recovering, but had clearly received some magical aid to speed it along.” Eschen wipes the condensation of steam off his face. “Who was the source of this magic?”

“I don’t know the person’s name, but I might know who you’re talking about,” Leah says carefully. Eschen raises a hand and gestures for her to continue. “What about Vivitha?”

Eschen drops his hand and nods. “Vivitha requested permission to leave the city, to check in with her family along the southern stretch of border. When we refused her, she tried to escape in the night. She is in prison.”

Leah nods, glaring over her knees. “And what about Kain?”

“What about her?” Eschen asks.

Leah lashes out a kick towards him, knocking up a spray of water but not reaching him. Eschen flinches but does not move to block her.

“Kain is alive,” he says, spreading his arms to either side on the lip of the pool, taking a deep breath. “And she is continuing to be useful, so she will remain alive.”

Leah curls back into her protective ball, chewing her lip.

Eschen stares her down. “The identity of the medic?”

“He’s a tracker and a fighter, from the Hold,” Leah says. “He knows some healing magic. I never knew his name, or maybe I heard it and forgot. He’s early thirties or thereabouts, red-ish hair, long enough for a queue but not longer.”

Eschen sighs. “Nothing more useful?”

“He’s the only person that Seffon sent in.”

“Oh?”

“That I know of.”

“Hm.” Eschen’s hand trails along the surface of the pool, creating tiny ripples that quickly get lost in the general movement of the hot water. He watches the patterns of the water, face pensive, quiet.

“Is that all you wanted?” Leah asks sarcastically, still glaring.

Eschen’s hand stops, for a few seconds. Leah’s stomach drops.

“Ask me a good question or I’m waking up again,” she says, nerves making her talk more quickly.

Eschen looks back at her, neutrally. “When did you decide you hated me?”

“Uh, when you tortured me with necromancy.” And every other moment after that, frankly.

“I didn’t torture you.”

“Have you ever undergone that spell?”

“Yes.”

Leah hesitates. “When?”

“I know it can be uncomfortable, even quite painful, but it is not torture.”

Leah presses back against the stone. Eschen does not break eye-contact.

“I’m leaving.” She says it as calmly as she can, with a slight nod to him as goodbye.

Eschen half-smirks. “I’m interested to see if you still can.”

Leah’s arms shake, and she squeezes her eyes shut, forcing herself back to wakefulness with a faint sense of desperation.