They followed the farmer all the way up to one of the Lesser Gates into Dumosa, reserved for Common Castes and Crows, and sat in line on the bridge over the Hem. Viimo lingered a pace or two behind them, but with Fie’s Sparrow tooth turning notice from her, the farmers and laborers waiting to enter the city paid her no heed.
It wasn’t until the maize cart drew within easy eyesight of the Hawk guards that Khoda nudged Fie. She let her remaining Sparrow tooth go cold, then reached up to grab Barf from the horse’s back, a signal for Viimo.
Right on cue, the skinwitch ducked around the horses, hovering at the edge of the maize cart. When the farmer scooted off her wagon seat to speak to the Hawks, Viimo made a show of swiping one, two ears of maize, then a squash, practically flapping her crowsilk cloak for attention.
“HEY!” The farmer bolted for Viimo. “Damned dirty bone thief! You trying to steal from me?”
Viimo swore, stumbled back like a drunkard, and all but heaved the produce into the air. Somehow, in righting herself, she managed to send another squash flying.
“Subtle,” Khoda muttered. “Ready?”
“Guard!” the farmer shouted. “Thief! Get her!”
Viimo took off running. There was a flurry of leather stamping on stone, and then four Hawks streaked past in hot pursuit. Fie rekindled both of her Sparrow teeth and readied a spare for if a tooth burned out.
“Ready,” Fie said.
She’d borrowed this idea from when Jasimir had saved Barf before. Khoda made sure the horses’ reins were clear of their feet, then smacked one on the rump. It reared, startling the other two and only adding to the chaos. Shouts and curses spilled over the bridge as Fie and Khoda backed toward the gate. Every eye was either on Viimo or on the horses now shying down the cobblestones.
Fie and Khoda slipped by the stormy-faced farmer and past the vexed Gull merchants waiting at the now-clear gate. The two Vulture witches on guard were watching the chase with glee. Then Fie saw them narrow their eyes.
“That’s not a Crow,” one said. “Look—that hair’s like one of us.”
The other swore under his breath. “Reckon that’s the tracker who turned on Tatterhelm? The queen might want a word with her…”
The skinwitches didn’t so much as blink as Khoda and Fie strolled through the gate, then ducked into a nearby alcove. Barf wriggled until Fie set her down.
Two Hawks shoved Viimo through the gate a few minutes later. She moped and twisted about, the picture of sullen defeat, and Fie couldn’t help huffing a laugh. Viimo had been right about that much: starting the plan with her arrest was something Fie enjoyed quite a bit.
Once they were out of sight, Khoda stepped out, trying to get his bearings as he pulled two painted vests from his pack, both marked with the stripes of a Pigeon courier. “My handler will be waiting in Magistrate’s Row. Then after that…”
“I know.” Even from the alcove, Fie could see their next target: the golden spires of the royal palace, carving into the sky like beacons.
CHAPTER TWELVE
FROM OUR ASHES
Khoda’s handler did not bother to give her name. She looked as if she could blend in among the Owl scholars, with deep mahogany skin and thick hair braided tight to her scalp. The orange embroidery on her violet robe marked her for a legal scribe—or at least a credible fake. It wasn’t quite the same orange hue as the roof tiles of Magistrate’s Row, but judging from the number of scribes darting between courthouses, record houses, and the Advocate’s Guild, that orange thread would let her go anywhere she pleased.
She also did not seem pleased to see Fie at Khoda’s heels, dark eyes flicking between the two of them. “Courier. What are your rates?”
“Ten naka to deliver inside Dumosa,” Khoda replied. “Four more inside the palace.”
The handler nodded, jaw tight, and said through her teeth, “Who else are you planning to recruit? A stray dog?”
Barf chose that moment to flop into the dust between them all and roll over for a belly rub. The handler closed her eyes.
Khoda nodded and held his hand out. His lips barely moved as he hissed back, “Tell me a Crow witch with a grudge and a bag full of teeth isn’t an asset. Besides, this is the one that got Jasimir all the way to Draga in the first place. She can manage herself.”
“And there won’t be a… distraction for you?” his handler asked pointedly.
Khoda coughed. “Women typically aren’t.”
Fie raised her eyebrows but said naught. She couldn’t help thinking Tavin would have been less thorny with Khoda if he’d known.
“Hmph. Four naka more for the palace.” The handler counted naka into Khoda’s palm with an air of significance that told Fie this wasn’t just about the coins. “So far, it’s been worth the new investment. We would have lost half our staff to a… policy change, if we hadn’t had early word. But it’s a risk to have someone so—”
“I’m keeping an eye on it,” Khoda said swiftly. “Where do you want this delivered?”
