Free Covenant's End by Ari Marmell

more than an instant, though. The trick had yanked Shins out of the guards’ sights (andline of fire) far faster than they could have anticipated, but not even she could regain a hold on the wall after that. Teeth gritted, she braced herself, twisting so that at least she landed on her feet when she struck the roadway. Ignoring the protests in her knees and the burning ache in both arms, she took off at a dead run. A quick left, as soon as she'd cleared the dilapidated structure, and then another after that, found her standing directly behind the spot the guards had been gathered only a moment before.
    They, of course, having given chase, were now on the other side of the building, wondering where their quarry could have disappeared to.
    Wondering what else could possibly go wrong, and why everyone seemed to have it out for her—even more than usual—Widdershins disappeared down the nearest side street, casually but carefully making her way toward the busier parts of town.
    She needed time to think. Needed to know what in the name of Banin's belt was happening in this madhouse of a city. Needed a chance to rest, and to talk to a friendly face.
    And with everything else going on, that could only mean one place.

    Even the Flippant Witch had changed.
    Not from the outside, no. It remained the same old structure, battered and worn but determined to keep on keeping on. Light glowed between the slats of the window shutters, smoke dribbled from the chimneys, and the muted hum of conversation reached her even from across the way.
    Initially, it seemed as though things were far better than when she'd left. Even if she hadn't seen the constant comings and goings through the tavern's front door, it was quite apparent that the place was far more crowded, doing far better business than she'd seen inthe months prior to her departure. In a Davillon that had apparently lost what remained of its mind, Shins was delighted to see that Robin had, to all appearances, turned the place completely around.
    That notion, and the resulting grin, both lasted just about as long as it took her to mount the steps and enter the common room itself.
    It was packed; it was busy. But not at all in the way she remembered from the good old days. The scents of various libations, though always strong, now utterly choked out everything else, including the aromas she should have smelled from the kitchen. People were drinking more and eating less, and had been for some time. The place was uncomfortably warm, despite the chill air outside, and there was a sourness to the stench of sweat that Shins's recollections did not include. Even the conversation was wrong. Loud and boisterous as always, yes, but heavier. A false note here, a spark of anger there. Most of these people had come to escape their lives, not to carouse and catch up with friends.
    A few faces brightened as they turned her way, old regulars happy to see her, raising hands or tankards in greeting. Those Shins returned with a smile almost alarming in its cheer, so frantic was she to find something familiar.
    The bulk of the throng, however, tossed her the same glance they offered any other newcomer and sullenly went back to their cups. That the strangers didn't recognize her was to be expected, but more than a few regulars, those who hadn't offered their welcome, turned away just as swiftly.
    How could they fail to even recognize her? Had they changed so much—or she changed so much—in less than a year?
    Olgun's presence calmed her, a feeling very much like a comforting arm draped around her shoulders. She probably wouldn't have just turned around and left without it—but she couldn't swear to it.
    Still, she might well have considered getting out, had a particularly friendly face not finally presented itself.
    â€œGerard!”
    The burly, red-bearded barman—a fixture of the Flippant Witch since its earliest days under Genevieve Marguilles, before even Robin had been