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‘Might be magic,’ the first one muttered, even more quietly.

They were both silent for a moment. The sound of their searching had grown significantly more doubtful, as if neither of them truly believed they would find me anymore; a piece of furniture scraped over the floorboards, a pile of blankets or towels thudded over. I lay staring into the dusky darkness, skin prickling with the awareness of their nearness – mere feet below me, a single sharp-eyed glance away.

They seemed too occupied with their own worries to think of glancing up.

‘Halbert will have our heads if we tell him we lost her,’ one of them hissed, so close I could hear the strain in his voice, and no matter how hard I was biting my tongue, I nearly let out a gasp.

Halberthimself?

Not a group of concerned civilians, not a few supporters taking matters into their own hands – no, the bloody consul of the White City was having me followed, and unless Rosalind had deliberately concealed the fact from me, he hadn’t even told his own colleagues about it. Which did not suggest the most lawful of intentions. Which meant I would have to be really damn careful around here – the battle was far from over yet.

‘Well, he can’t blame us if she used magic, can he?’ the other man grumbled under his breath, accompanied by the sound of boots hitting a wooden wall. ‘If she made herself invisible or … or …’

‘Damn right,’ the first hurriedly agreed. ‘No sense in making a fool of ourselves here. We can wait on the corner of the street and see if she shows up …’

Their voices died away as they plodded down the stairs again. I heard them snap some curt yet unintelligible words at the staff in the dining room, then the door slammed. I waited ten breaths, wary of tricks and ruses … but the footsteps did not return, and the dark murmurs rising from below suggested the restaurant’s employees felt free to speak again.

Holding my breath, I threw a glance down. The landing below my beam was deserted.

I cautiously slid from my hiding place, landing as quietly as I could. My light blue dress was streaked with dust, unseemly smudges in brown and dark grey all over my back and stomach; making my decision in a heartbeat, I slipped into the bathroom, locked the door behind me, and undressed myself. Cold water and a dust cloth I found in a discreet bathroom cupboard were enough to render my clothes mostly presentable again.

Dusted off and dressed, I took the risk and descended the stairs. Two servers and a cook stood huddled between the small round tables, mouths snapping shut as if by command the moment they caught sight of me.

For one fraught moment, the clatter of pans and tools in the kitchen was all I heard.

Then the same middle-aged woman who had originally helped me cleared her throat, cleared it again, and cautiously said, ‘Those were … not guards, were they?’

So that was the game my pursuers had tried to play. Ballsy, given the rather obvious contrast with the well-groomed, immaculately disciplined guards in their shining city armour who had accompanied me between gate and White Hall.

‘No,’ I said, deciding in a split second lies could only cause me more trouble here. ‘I’m so sorry for involving you in this. They are after me for other reasons.’

‘You’re the fae girl,’ she concluded without a moment of hesitation.

There was no fear in her voice, not a tinge of hysteria. A simple observation. Fae girl, hunted girl, girl with an emergency regarding her monthly – she gave the impression it was all the same to her. Had she ever met a magical creature before? The way she scanned me, almost eager for clues and shocking discoveries, suggested she had never learned to fear my kind that much.

Next to her, the cook and younger server looked like I was a glass of water on fire.

‘Yes,’ I admitted, unable to suppress a hint of awkwardness. ‘Emelin. Pleasure to meet you?’

My conversation partner let out a high laugh – the kind of laugh that said,I’ve slept too little and I still have seventeen tables to set, and now there’s a fae girl standing in my restaurant.‘Good gods. Did you do magic?’

‘Oh, no,’ I said, taking care to make it sound like the suggestion was little more than a harmless joke to me. ‘I promised the consuls I wouldn’t use magic within the walls ofthe city, so I climbed onto the roof beams. The gentlemen didn’t think of looking up.’

That evoked muffled chuckles from even the cook and the younger girl, who still hadn’t dared to speak a word. My conversation partner scoffed and said, shaking her head, ‘Well, they were talking of waiting for you at the end of the street. Would you like to use the back door?’

More helpfulness than I had expected, after my lies. ‘If you really don’t mind …’

‘Oh, please,’ she said with a faint smile, beckoning me to follow her. ‘I voted for Rosalind for a reason.’

I made a mental note to thank Rosalind for her indirect assistance.

The restaurant’s back door opened into a little courtyard, from where a narrow crack between houses and gardens ran all the way to the other side of the block. I professed my gratitude two more times, promised I would do nothing to get the establishment in any trouble, and took off, my backpack bouncing against my shoulders as I hurried between fences and plastered walls.

Where to go next?

With one narrow escape during my first half hour alone in the city, the wisest decision was doubtless to turn back and make for the White Hall. At least Halbert could not accuse me of magically harming citizens there, and if he wished to quietly kill me, at least I wouldn’t harm any bystanders while defending myself. Staying in the city meant taking a risk, one I was not fully sure I could afford.

Then again …