She glanced back. The Cire was still there, now talking to a vendor. But his eyes—as black as Selik’s—kept drifting in her direction.
“We’re leaving,” she decided. “Casual. Like we’re done shopping.”
“Okay.”
They moved through the crowd at a measured pace, not running but not dawdling either. She kept Mikoz’s carrier close, one hand on his back to steady him.
The Cire followed. Not obviously. He maintained distance. Stopped at stalls to examine merchandise. But he was definitely tracking them.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Stay calm. Don’t panic. Get somewhere safe.
They turned down a side street, heading toward the main plaza where there would be more people. More witnesses. Harder to do anything suspicious. The Cire turned down the same street.
“He’s definitely following us,” Anya whispered.
“I know.”
“Should we run?”
“Not yet. If we run, we confirm we know he’s there. And I can’t run very fast right now anyway.” She put a hand on her belly, feeling the baby shift restlessly. I know, little one. Mommy’s scared too.
They emerged into the plaza, bright and crowded with midday shoppers. She spotted a cafe with outdoor seating, public and visible. Perfect.
“There,” she said.
They claimed a table near the center of the seating area, surrounded by other patrons. She ordered tea she didn’t want and tried not to stare at the plaza entrance. The Cire appeared a moment later. He didn’t approach, but he didn’t leave either. Just stood near a fountain, watching.
“I need to call Selik,” she said.
“Already on it.” Anya had her comm device out, fingers flying. “I’m sending our location and telling him it’s urgent.”
Mikoz squirmed in his carrier, fussing. Corinne pulled him around to her front, settling him on her lap. He immediately grabbed for her tea.
“No, baby. Too hot.” She redirected him to a piece of bread instead. “We’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
But her voice shook slightly, betraying the lie.
The Cire still hadn’t moved. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
What does he want? Is he alone? Are there others?
Her mind spun through scenarios, each worse than the last. The Council taking Mikoz. Taking her baby. Selik fighting to protect them and getting hurt or killed. Their perfect little life shattered in an instant.
“Selik’s coming,” Anya said. “He’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes. An eternity and no time at all.
Corinne held Mikoz close, breathing in his familiar scent—baby soap and fruit and sunshine. He babbled happily, oblivious to the danger, reaching for her hair again.
“Not the hair, sweetness. How about this instead?” She pulled out a small toy from the bag, a wooden block Selik had carved. Mikoz grabbed it with delight, immediately trying to chew on it.
The Cire shifted position. Moved a few steps closer.
Corinne’s breath caught. “Anya?—”
“I see him.”
“If he comes over here, you take Mikoz and run.”
