“We aren’t done with your friend,” another soldier said.
“Unfortunately, we’re late to meet the prince’s guards for some sweetwine, if you catch my meaning.” I glanced out of the alley, smiled at no one in particular, and waved. “Galen! We’ll be right there.” Then I looked back at Rill and smiled. “Have a great Springmarket!”
Without looking back, I hauled her out of the alley and then into the crowd. “You go right, I’ll go left.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime. I’m Fox.”
I darted through the crowd, scanning until I saw one of the prince’s soldiers. “Thieves,” I said, pointing in Rill’s direction. “They’re pretending to be garrison soldiers.”
He nodded to his compatriot, and they hustled to the rescue.
It wasn’t a dough knot, but it was still very satisfying.
Since Wren would probably be worried, I decided to skip another try at the ever-growing sweets queue and return to the inn. And that’s when I felt the tight pinch just above my heart, the pain sharp like Wren’s dagger. It pulsed, hot and angry, squeezing the air from my lungs. I had to focus on breathing, on staying on my feet in the swarm of people. I pushed my way out to the edge of the crowd…and saw the glittering haze of tainted Aether only a few shops away.
The Aetheric practitioner was here, during Springmarket. Did he think he’d find the prince enjoying the festival, so he could give assassination another try? Or had he been drawn by the crowds, hoping to find someone new on whom he could try his magic?
He’d hurt who he could. And if there was an attack, they’d panic. In this crush of people, the stampede would be deadly.
The Aether trail began to head away from the market, so maybe he’d realized the prince hadn’t shown or decided the plan was too risky. If I followed him, I might be able to find his hold, learn his name and his face, and ensure he was put away.
The trail was already fading. I looked back at the inn where I’d left Wren, but I couldn’t see it over the morass of people. This might be my best—and only—chance to stop him. I had to take it.
I turned away from the crowd and moved down the road, sticking to the shadows. When I reached the corner, I glanced carefully around it. A cluster of people, one of them in dark fabric that billowed in the breeze, disappeared around the next corner. Aether trailed behind them like a tiger’s tail.
“If you’re listening, Aetheric god,” I whispered, “I could use a little luck right now.”
There was no omen, no white raven. Just the turning of the world and the ache in my chest.
I followed them into a neighborhood of narrow roads, the angles awkward where people had built shelters in any available corner. I didn’t have a torch, and the moonlight barely reached these slender alleys, but the faint glow of Aether was more than enough to show me the way. We had to be moving toward his hideout. And that would be quite a coup.
“Fox!”
The sound originated behind me, echoing off stone walls.Who in Oblivion was screaming my name and ruining my—until now—gloriously quiet pursuit?
“Fox!”
He rounded the corner. Jonas, the farrier’s son, was loping down the alley toward me, his cheeks pink from too much sweetwine.
“Fox! I want to talk to you.” There was a softness to his eyes, a sweetness in his smile. He’d make a very good husband for a girl who wanted a home and babies and a garden to tend. Maybe I’d want those things someday, but for now I preferred caravanserais and dancing, and neither of those things with him.
“Go back to the party, Jonas.” I made my voice as fierce a whisper as I could. “I’m busy.”
He snorted. “Busy with what? It’s Springmarket.”
My trail was disappearing. “I have to make a delivery or I’ll be punished. You don’t want that, right?”
“Who’s going to punish you? You’re a heroine! You saw the Anima just in time and saved the prince!” His voice was too loud, the sound bouncing through the streets.
“Jonas!” I turned him around to face the direction of the market. “Your father is calling you. He said there’s trouble with…the horses.” Good thinking, Fox.
“Trouble?”
“Yeah. So you’d better hurry.” I gave him a gentle shove, and while his back was turned, his wits dulled by the alcohol, I darted down an alley just in time to see Aether snake around another corner. I ran forward—and straight into a dead end, where rancid Aether had gathered like fog. Pressure crushed my chest.
I felt movement behind me and prepared to give Jonas what for, irritation triggered by the pain. Instead, two men in faded tunics, their faces covered by scarves, moved toward me.
