Page 13

The scuff of boots against stone disrupts the alley’s stillness, and my shoulders stiffen. I tighten my grip on the hilt of my dagger and strain my ears.

A short whistle sounds.

The tension in my limbs melts away, and I push to my feet, abandoning my hiding spot.

Lyxander stands a few paces away, arms crossed over his chest, his silhouette rigid. He furrows his brow as he steps closer. “Was the punch really necessary?”

I shrug, sliding my dagger back into its sheath. “It needed to look believable.”

A low sound rumbles in his throat—not quite a sigh, not quite a snarl. His hand drags through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled.

I bite my lip to hold back the smile threatening to break free. Now isn’t the time to be petty, not when we have so little of it. “The mark. Did you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“And? What does it mean?”

He tilts his head, considering. “My best guess is that because our bargain requires us to be close, it was trying to draw us together.”

“So, it’s a leash,” I mutter, flexing my fingers as if I could shake the memory of the tugging sensation from my palm. “Wonderful.”

Lyxander’s lips twitch. “A leash, maybe. But a useful one.”

I glare at him, though I can’t completely disagree, and the idea settles uneasily in my stomach. I shift my thoughts back to the task at hand. “You’re certain the market will be open this late?”

“Yes. Intana doesn’t sleep, not entirely.”

“Then we get in, get the supplies we need for the journey, and get out. No distractions.”

My gaze shifts toward the laneway beyond the alley, where the faint buzz of the city stirs the air, and my mind churns. Despite our ruse, we haven’t done enough to throw the Aviary off our scent. The timing is too tight, the odds too slim. The Eagle’s hunters are likely only hours behind us—if that. Discovery of Lyxander’s escape was imminent, and even with the delay of readying a ship, they’ll be closing in.

Heaving a sigh, I reach up and push my hood back, running my hands through my hair as if the motion can brush my anxiety away. A lock snags against one of my earrings, and I pause, then curse under my breath as I unhook it and stare down at the golden eagle, an unmistakable emblem of the Aviary. When its ruby eye glints as if in silent reproach, I shove it deep into the pocket of my pants.

It wouldn’t matter if a passerby had seen it—or even the ship’s crew—but what if a Songbird had caught a glimpse? I should have thought to remove it sooner, but it’s too late to worry over it now.

I pause and glance up at Lyxander. “Is your hair color common here in Arkhadia?” I’d been so focused on the scene we created that I hadn’t taken note of the people around us. But my mother was from here, and I inherited my natural coloring from her. Then there was also Lady Cynna, one of the contestants I competed against in Eretria’s Royal Trials. Hers had been even lighter than mine.

“It is,” he says. “Even more so in the region I’m from.”

“And where is that exactly?”

“I already told you, we’re going—”

“Far north.”

“Exactly.” He looks beyond me, and frustration coils around my throat. Then he adds, “East of Kosmos. If I told you more, you’d just argue.”

“No,” I reply, deadpan. “But I might punch you again.”

His mention of the northern capital conjures a map of the Empyrieos in my mind. There are many small towns east of Kosmos, nestled in the foothills of the Thalkans. Since the mountain range borders the entire northern and eastern sides of Arkhadia, there are probably more villages that weren’t deemed large enough to mark on a map. Still, if pale hair is more common here…

I reach up and remove the earring imbued with goiteía—the charm that has kept my true hair and eye color hidden since long before we left the Sorrows. As far as disguises go, abandoning the one I’ve always worn is a weak one. But until we can gather the necessary supplies, the less I look like the Songbird the Aviary will recognize, the better.

A shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of silken webs falling away, and I know my hair has returned to its natural pale blond and my eyes now reflect their stormy blue.

There’s a gleam in his gaze now, like light catching on tempered steel.

“You’ll need to wear this.” I hold the earring out to him, and that possibility of a smile falls away.