Page 105

Old, selfish stubbornness stirred within me – a most welcome guest. To hell with Halbert and his scheming. To hell with the greater good. I was spending a few short days in what had once been the city of my dreams, and was I really considering lettingone tricky consul and some dumb muscle lock me in my room all that time?

I reached the end of the alley, hands clutching the straps of my bag, and threw a cautious look around the quiet street that lay beyond. No looming danger to be seen.

Damn them, then.

I drew in a last deep breath and trotted to the next side street, slipping around the corner within mere heartbeats. Deeper into the city. Deeper into the unknown.

Free again, for these stolen hours.

I passed a small group of stonemasons at work, some mothers with children, a merchant expertly steering a cart full of firewood down a narrow alley. There were no glares, no whispers. Some of them even greeted me in passing, with the careless, absent-minded air of people who haven’t experienced anything remarkable in years. The city went about its business wherever I walked, unbothered by my presence. I found a theatre announcing its next play in fat, gilded lettering, a horse seller loudly praising his own wares, servant girls gossiping on street corners. If the news of a fae visitor had caused any unrest or civil disagreement, the consequences weren’t visible to an outsider.

Perhaps, I considered, Halbert was a lone dissenter, digging for trouble no one else had bothered to worry about. Or perhaps he had just wanted to keep an eye on me to make sure I didn’t sneak off and hurt any of his people.

Could I really disagree with that, all things considered?

Around me, the rows of narrow houses abruptly receded to give way to a broad market square: a couple dozen colourful stalls, surrounded by small groups of citizens who chattered merrily amongst each other as they inspected their prospective purchases. No meats and grains and vegetables, as far as I could see. The merchants here sold wares that must have beenimported from elsewhere in the archipelago – Rhudaki lace, southern dried flowers, illustrated books from the scriptorium on Furja. No magical items. The ships from the White City might sail anywhere, but it seemed they wouldn’t trade with alf smiths or phoenix scribes.

I tiptoed between the stalls, feeling not unlike a child in a pastry shop – finely woven silk here, fragrant incense there, a wide range of paints and dyes next … Each successive stall heightened my awareness of the heavy purse of gold in my bag. I lingered near a stall with a wide array of stunningly forged daggers, wondering if I should buy the set with mother-of-pearl and obsidian hilts for Creon – he’d like them, doubtlessly, but buying weapons of any kind might not be the wisest choice if I wanted to convince two consuls of my peaceful and harmless intentions.

With a small sting of regret, I left the daggers behind.

Pens and ink. Vellum of a quality that made my hands itch. More Rhudaki lace, and at the next stall—

I let out a small gasp.

Astrolabes.

I’d only ever seen illustrations of the instruments, in the long and incomprehensible foreword to theEncyclopaedia of Stars. They were used to measure angles and make calculations – that much I had gathered – and then there were passages on things called dioptras and planispheres and I had given up on making sense of the matter. But theywerestunning, these intricate contraptions with their drop-like shape and their elegant rings and their engravings of heavenly bodies …

No one could draw any unhappy conclusions about me based on an innocent interest in astronomy, could they?

And gods help me, Creonwouldbe happy with one.

I’d swivelled around and made my way to the stall before I could think through the consequences of drawing attention, my bag already in my hand.

The merchant, who’d stood smoking his pipe until that point, bared his yellowed teeth in a grin as he saw me approach. ‘Interested, Miss?’

There was no suspicion in his voice. No one turned a head around me – they must have no idea of who I really was.

‘I’m developing a bit of an interest in astronomy,’ I merrily told him, sliding my eyes over the range of instruments – some the size of dinner plates, others small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. I pointed at one of average size, made out of copper and engraved with constellations along the edges. ‘How much are you asking for that one, for example?’

‘Excellent choice,’ he said with an earnest nod, making it sound as if he would never have said the exact same thing should my preference have been different. ‘Very solid design, that one, was already used by the Elderburg astronomers before the plague. I usually sell it for seven florins, but since you’re just getting started …’

His discounted price was still eye-wateringly high, as I had expected. I slid into the game as if I’d never done anything else, remembering how Editta had gone back and forth, back and forth, with merchants for every stretch of linen and every bottle of ink she’d bought – that subtle dance of flattery and feigned indifference, circling that final price that could satisfy all parties. I was not as good at it as she had been. The four florins and three silverlings on which we finally arrived was likely still too much money for what I was getting – but to hell with it, Ihadthe money, and if we were all going to die on a battlefield soon, what was the sense in holding on to it?

The merchant turned away to wrap my purchase in strips of linen as I dug my purse from my bag and began counting outthe agreed price. Four golden coins hit the wood surface of the stall with satisfying thuds. I felt around for the smaller shapes of silverlings – there was one of them, and a second, and—

‘Hey!’ someone shouted behind me.

The merchant and I whirled around as one.

A broad man came elbowing through the peaceful crowd, making his way towards us – no tome, his hostile gaze burning holes into my face. The way he jutted a stubby finger at me reeked of accusations.

‘She’s using fae gold!’ he barked, loud enough for every single soul in the square to hear him. ‘I saw her enchant it behind your back – she’s that fae girl!’

And only then did I recognise his voice.

I’d heard it beneath me, half an hour ago, as I lay frozen on a dusty wooden beam.