Page 29

CHAPTER NINE

Tessa

This time when I head for the workshop, I’m wide awake, my mask tied firmly in place, kohl darkly smudged around my eyes. My jaw aches, but I ignore it. My chest burns with anger and rage at the king, the prince, the horrible way we’re all treated for doing what we have to do to survive.

My mind burns with the need for action.

The night patrol has been doubled, and even though I carry nothing more than my apothecary books, I slip through the woods with extra care. I won’t bother to light the fire while I wait for Wes, because I don’t want to take any chances. My heart has been tripping along in my chest all night.

When I get to the workshop, however, I don’t need to wait. Wes is there already, leaning against the doorway, barely more than a shadow.

I stop short in surprise, but he straightens, then lets out a breath. “Tessa.”

Allthe horror I’ve felt all day seems to evaporate when I see that he’s still safe.

“Did you see?” I say softly. “Were you there?”

He doesn’t need me to be specific. He nods, and his voice is grave. “I saw.” He pauses, then glances out at the early morning darkness. “The patrol is everywhere. They’re searching the forges.”

It’s unusual for Wes to sound unsettled, and that makes me unsettled. I swallow. “I heard.”

His eyes return to meet mine. “It’s a risky night for thieving and delivering.”

“It’s always risky,” I whisper.

“I heard that three got away. There’s quite a reward for their capture.” He pauses. “For the capture of any outlaw.”

“I heard that, too.” Everyone who came into the shop this afternoon was talking about it.

Wes says nothing; he just looks at me.

It takes me a moment for realization to smack me across the face, and I draw back. “You think someone might turn us in.”

He snorts, then runs his hands over his jaw. “It’s a lot of money, Tessa.” A hint of his familiar grin skips across his face. “I’m surprised you’re not waiting here to turn me in.”

“How do you know I’m not?” I tease, though everything is so serious that the words fall a bit flat.

Any hint of a smile vanishes, but there’s a gentle warmth in Wes’s voice when he says, “Because you wouldn’t.”

I blush, and I’m glad for the mask and the darkness. He’s not wrong. I tug my treble hook from my pack and spin it in the night air. “We’re losing the darkness.”

He catches the hook with his nimble fingers, forcing it still. We stand there in absolute silence for the longest time, connected by the narrow length of rope. His eyes are heavy and dark and intent, and I wish I could read his thoughts. I’m glad he can’t read mine.

I swallow and try to keep my mind on business. “Who are the Benefactors? Do you know?”

“No.” He pauses. “I thought you might.”

I shake my head. “We can ask when we make our rounds.”

Wes says nothing for a moment, and when he speaks, his voice is very low. “There are calls for revolution. The king won’t allow it to stand. They’ll make an example of anyone they catch.”

“They always do.”

He snorts. “I don’t think we’ve seen the worst they can do.”

“You’re afraid.” I breathe.

His eyes skip away, and his jaw tightens. “I’m not afraid for me.”