Page 59 of The Moon's Fury

The dagger was small—too small for him.

But perfect for Layna.

He sensed movement behind him and spun, grip tight on his sword.

“Good evening,sahib,” said a short, bearded man, dressed in a white thobe. “Apologies, I was opening new stock in the back. How might I help you?”

Zarian studied him closely. He had been expecting someone else.

“I seek that which the night conceals,” he said, voice low.

The man’s eyes widened. He bowed deeply.

“Of course. Follow me,sahib.” He walked through the gauzy curtains covering a back door leading farther into the shop.

As they walked down the dark, narrow hallway, Zarian asked, “How long have you worked here?”

“Two years. Baran hired me when I had nothing. I am indebted to him.” The man glanced back. “And Baran is indebted to you. What you did for his son—”

“Has anyone else used the phrase?” His jaw clenched at the reminder.

The man shook his head. “Just you,sahib.”

They reached a door, and it creaked loudly as the man opened it. “I’ll be out front if you require anything.” He handed him a lantern and disappeared back down the hall.

Zarian set the lantern on a small table. The tiny room was sparsely furnished: only a small bed, a table and a rickety chair. Precariously stacked crates and trunks teetered against the back wall.

He didn’t waste another minute.

Sorting through the boxes, he soon had a pile of throwing stars, small knives, and daggers. There was a working crossbow and two full quivers of arrows, along with a set of knuckle dusters. In one trunk, there were two baldrics, one with a chainmail lining. Hidden beneath a stack of trousers, Zarian found four worn pouches, heavy with coin. He pocketed two of them, then sat at the table to pen a note.

With a sigh, Zarian folded the note and sealed it with wax. He winced as he pressed his thumb into the hot, viscous liquid, then carved two straight lines into the cooling wax. His fingers hovered, uncertain, before slowly tracing a third adjacent line.

He didn’t relish the idea of remaining in any place for so many days, least of all in Sendouk. Memories burned him like hot coals on his back, until he would willingly peel off his skin for any sort of relief.

But he had to give Jamil time to catch up.

He walked back to the front.

The man was seated behind the main counter examining a ring with a magnifying glass. He rose when Zarian entered.

“All in order,sahib?”

Zarian pressed the sealed parchment into his hands.

“You will hear the phrase again soon. Green eyes and a long, white scar on his face. Give this to him.” The man nodded fervently. He disappeared beneath the counter, theclickof a winding lock echoing.

Glancing around the shop, his eyes darted between the displays, collections of sparkling rings and necklaces and daggers.

The man rose, note secured.

Zarian pointed to a display. “How much for that?”

After Zarian left, Layna flung herself onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress with a contented sigh. Her back and thighs ached from constant riding.

But while her body rested, her mind created chaos.

Where were Soraya and Mama now?