Page 34 of Heart of Thieves

Frowning, I pull back to inspect a smear of gray across my palm. “What is this?”

“When I was here during the tournament, I removed the voratium strips in the walls. I didn’t feel safe knowing the Liar could cast glamours or manipulate me anytime he wished. I put cinders from the fire-place in the gaps to hide what I’d done.”

I dust at the ash with my fingers. “How did you get the voratium out?”

She shrugs. “The metal didn’t go very deep. It was just kind of . . . pressed into the wall texture, so when I dug a knife under it, it came out pretty easily. I stowed it in a closet I found downstairs.”

It’s just the sort of genius thing Estelle would figure out to do. And it would be the perfect way to enter the casino now, because there would be a big enough break in the wards for her to get through.

“You climbed all the way up here?” I cross to the balcony and peer over the edge.

“What, like it’s hard?” She laughs, coming beside me. “You did it at least twice that I’m aware of.”

“Yeah, but I used magic.”

“Oh. Well, I guess I am better than you after all.” She winks.

I snort. “All right. You win.” I lean against the railing, letting the warmth of the sun heat the backs of my shoulders. “So, you got in here being forty-seven different kinds of crafty, but why did you go to Moraille in the first place? Why did you come back? And why were you going through Nic’s things?”

Her eyes snap to mine at the sound of the Liar’s name and consider me for several long moments. Finally, she sighs.

“All right. I’ll tell you. But you have to swear—”

I hold up my hand. “I swear never to tell anyone anything. I’m the world’s best secret keeper. Maybe even the goddess of secrets.”

“Pretty sure there already is one of those.”

“Not the point.” I drop my hand, grinning. “I won’t speak a word to a soul.”

Estelle yanks me back into the suite, closing the door behind us and locking it. Then she steers me into the wardrobe, which she also pulls shut behind us.

“Really?” I whisper in the dark.

“What I’m about to tell you could risk the life of someone I care about,” she shoots back. “I’m not supposed to share this with anyone.”

I settle into a seated position facing her, and she shifts to mirror me so our knees meet in the middle of the wardrobe. “All right,” I say. “I’m ready.”

She takes a deep breath. “You remember the theater troupe I was in?”

“Of course. You quit because you found somewhere you wanted to stay.”

“Yes. I found Laurel.”

The name punches through me, bringing with it the sting of jealousy, the prick of curiosity, and the weight of Nic’s sadness when he spoke of her. The first girl he loved, whose name was engraved on a ring he kept on a necklace in his nightstand. Who stood by him as he tried to put a bullet in my head.

“Laurel,” I repeat like I’ve never heard of her.

“The theater troupe stopped in one of those tiny villages on the outskirts of Moraille. One night, after the show, I decided to go exploring. I stopped near a dumpster, and a girl around my age climbed out.” The strip of light coming from between the wardrobe doors slants across Estelle’s smile. “She scared me half to death. Thought she was a ghost.” Her mirth fades. “She glowed.”

“Glowed?” I repeat, confused.

“Her hands were covered in slivers of voratium. But that wasn’t the only thing. You remember the Liar’s scar?”

I wish I could stop remembering it. I nod.

“She had the same thing on her arms. A spiderweb of glowing light like his.”

I pull on my lower lip. “What was it?”