He raised an eyebrow. “Remind me never to play cards with ye.”
They set off deeper into the city. If Ruby had thought this would be some grand homecoming, she soon realized she was very mistaken. This place was nothing like the city she knew. The streets were narrow, crooked, and alive with noise. Shouts echoed from every direction. Vendors hawked wares from stalls. Livestock jostled alongside pedestrians. Laundry hung from windows above, dripping onto the street.
Ruby recognized nothing beyond the castle rising on its crag above the city. There was no Princes Street, no orderly grid, no sense of space. Buildings rose straight up, blotting out the sky. And the smell—smoke, refuse, sweat, horse dung, food, and something sour beneath it all.
She clutched Evan’s sleeve instinctively. “I—” She swallowed. “I don’t know where to go.”
Evan glanced at her. “Where does yer cousin live?”
“I...I’m not sure.”
He rolled his eyes. “Wonderful.” His gaze darted to the throng of people, skipping over each face. “It’s getting late. We’ll find an inn and ask around in the morning. It will be safer.”
She hesitated. “But Charlie—”
“Will still be here tomorrow. For tonight, we need to disappear.”
“All right,” she said softly. “You’re right.”
They found an inn tucked down a narrow wynd, its sign creaking in the breeze. It wasn’t grand, but it was busy—and that, Evan said, was a good thing. Busy meant anonymous.
Inside, warmth and noise wrapped around Ruby like a warm blanket. After the cold and discomfort of the journey here, the laughter, clattering mugs and smell of stew was a balm. Ruby’s shoulders finally loosened a fraction.
Evan spoke quietly with the innkeeper. Moments later, they were led up a narrow staircase to a small room with a low ceiling. The door shut behind them, muting the noise of the inn.
“We made it,” she breathed. “I can’t believe I’m finally here.”
She leaned against the closed door but the noise of Edinburgh seeped through, regardless. Voices echoed in the close streets outside. Boots scraped on cobbles. Somewhere nearby a woman laughed too hard, the sound sharp and brittle. Farther off, bells tolled, the deep notes rolling through the Old Town like a warning.
Edinburgh, after all this time. Sure, it was not the place she knew, but at least Charlie was here. Somewhere. Tomorrow, she would find her. Tomorrow, she would begin putting her life back in order.
The room they’d been given was small. A single narrow bed took up most of the space, its straw mattress covered with a coarse woolen blanket. A rickety table stood beneath the window, a single chair pushed beneath it. The air smelled faintly of smoke, damp stone, and something sour she preferred not to identify.
Evan crossed the room and checked the window, peering through the shutters before easing them closed. He tested the latch, then bade her move so he could check the door, tugging at it twice before sliding the bolt home with a decisive clunk.
He swung his pack off his shoulder, dumping it to the floor, then began removing weapons as if shedding a second skin. Knives came first—one, two, three—laid out on the table in neat alignment. Then another she hadn’t even known was there, slipped from the small of his back. Only then did he shrug out of his coat, hanging it on a peg by the door.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not exactly happy to be here?”
Evan just shrugged. “Edinburgh remembers.”
That wasn’t an answer. She crossed to the table, leaning against the edge of it. Up close, she could see the tension in Evan’s shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as he took out a bit of cloth and began cleaning his weapons.
Outside, a group of men passed the window, their voices raised in argument. Evan’s gaze flicked to the shutters until the sound faded.
“Does it rememberyou?” she asked softly.
Evan picked up one of his knives, turned it in his fingers, light glinting along the blade. “I told ye,” he said. “I’ve history here.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No,” he agreed. “But it’s the answer ye are getting.”
Ruby sighed. Jeez, he could be infuriating! Trying to get answers out of him was like trying to prize open a bloody clamshell.
“Do you think we managed to lose those men looking for you?” she asked.
His hand stilled. “Aye. I might not like it here much, but there is one thing the city is good for: disappearing. They willnae find us here.”
