Page 98

Eat? I wasn’t hungry. I was filled to the brim.

Still his hand hung between us. It seemed second nature to just reach for it, let it cover mine, allow him to decide where I would go.

But the sky. The air. Miles of cobbles and all my rushing blood. The last thing I wanted was to return to my room.

“I think I’ll walk for a while,” I told him.

The hand fell. “Then I’ll join you.”

“No,” I answered, perhaps too quickly. “It’s all right. I won’t stray far.”

His brow furrowed in concern. “I thought you might want to redress. You’re covered in mud.” His eyes flickered down to my blouse.

I quickly crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly worried that if I looked down, I might find it had turned translucent.

“The Colsons won’t like you walking about alone,” he persisted.

“Like I said, I won’t stray far.”

He seemed confused. Off-balance. “There’s a rally this evening,” he said, brow still creased. “They have them every month in the marketplace. I can collect you from your room and take you there.” He didn’t await an answer. “In fact, if there’s ever anywhere you wish to go, I should come with you.”

I wanted to remind him that I’d spent the last seven years alone and survived well enough, but I knew he was trying to be kind. I nodded in acceptance. It seemed he would not take his leave without it.

A twinge of guilt bled its way into my heart that I should want him to leave at all.

“It begins around dusk,” he said, glancing to the horizon. “I’ll be at your door just before.” He placed a hand in his pocket, nodded reluctantly, and meandered away, looking over his shoulder once, then a second time.

“Ah, you broke the poor bastard’s heart,” came a deeper voice. Isaiah was suddenly sniffing my ankles, panting excitedly, and I turned to find Patrick standing on the stoop to Margarite’s. He bent to ruffle Isaiah’s ears. “Good dog,” he told him.

I grimaced. “I supposeyouwon’t let me walk awhile?”

“We’ve been workin’ underground all day, and you want to walk?”

“Yes,” I said unequivocally. I was pulsing with energy.

“Good god, woman,” he said. “Fine, let’s take a walk.”

“You could always leave me to it.”

“Not a fuckin’ chance.”

Patrick turned to bolt the door before we left, hiding the locks from view for a moment.

I tilted my head, a thought occurring to me. “How many tunnel entrances are there?”

Patrick wiped his hands on a kerchief he pulled from his trouser pocket. “A few.”

I frowned. As many tunnels as secrets, then. “Will I get to see the others?”

“And why would you need to see them?”

Together, we stepped out into the square.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re a paranoid man, Patrick. I don’t intend to run away.”

He nodded his head. “Good,” he said. “Might hurt young Teddy’s feelings if you took off.”

“Hardly. And he’s not a boy.”