Page 56 of Hellbound

A wayfinder coin. The blue-gray coin broke the monotony of brown, black, and dingy white worn by the surrounding crowd.

She stood up, peering out the window at the figure heading down the alleyway. Her heart leaped to her throat.

What if this were another headhunter? And they had just taken it from a child?

Her mind flew to the little boy’s scared face, at the way he had avoided her bloody fingers when she offered the coin back.

She pushed out the side exit without another word, her drink unfinished.

She tailed the mysterious figure—a man, no doubt. He was tall, strong-shouldered, but light on his feet. He moved like water, slipping between bodies and stalls effortlessly.

She wove between the makeshift wooden stalls hawking fragrant herbs and cookery wares. Somewhere nearby, a reedy voice sang over a hand drum, competing with haggling voices.

She cut down an alleyway and intercepted him as he rounded the intersection of a busy street. A fiddler played a jaunty tune on one corner, a juggler working the other. She crouched low behind a barrel to peer at his profile several paces away.

Her breath stopped.

Bohdan’s elegant nose and cheekbones were apparent beneath the shadow of his hood.

And there—the glint of his green eyes.

She flattened herself to the splintered wood as her heart hammered in her chest, and she pulled her cloak over her tresses and swung her scarf to cover her face.

What was he doing down here?

He continued on his path and she waited a beat before tailing him once more.

If this was a hallucination, it was a rare one in which she wished to remain.

A few dozen paces away, standing in the dead center of the street, was a woman dressed in a dark cloak, her flaxen braided hair finished with a pale blue ribbon.

Ksenia had always noted that the color drew unnecessary attention, but Danika insisted it was the point.

Wisps of her light blonde hair peeked from beneath the hood. The exuberance and life had been leeched from her doe-brown eyes, which were now accented with dark circles and sallow cheeks. She looked different, hollow.

But she looked real.

Ksenia couldn’t stop her feet from carrying her forward, arm slightly outstretched.

Words poised themselves on her tongue. What did they do to you? Where have you been? Are you all right? I’m sorry I didn’t stick with you.

The thoughts ceased as Bohdan’s figure loomed into view. His tall silhouette stood sentry near Danika.

Dread set throughout the crowd in micro movements; their shoulders stiffened, smiles replaced with thin lines, and they hastened their steps. The street performers packed and left.

It wasn’t illegal for citizens to frequent the Vein itself, but plenty of the practices and activities were. Desperate to make ends meet, people risked Envorsen raids.

That still didn’t explain what Danika was doing here. Did Bohdan bring her? Why were they together?

The questions piled high in Ksenia’s mind.

Danika looked around listlessly, her gaze met with jeers and snarls, but no explicit insults came her way; their eyes were wary of Bohdan’s hovering figure.

He stood out like a shark amongst a school of fish.

Danika certainly didn’t fit in, but it was on account that she was a bondsmith who had been on the run. Their wanted posters had been plastered on more than a few buildings in Brannfels, and Ksenia had long grown numb to the contempt with which they had been treated.

Danika’s hand emerged from the dark woolen cloak, and without looking, her finger swung resolutely at three separate stalls.