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Did Papa know about that weakness in Elal’s defenses? Nic at least found the wisdom to keep it to herself that she had no tattoo. The lack would mark her as High House.
“Best pull your cowl more around your face, just in case there’s anyone around who might know you,” Dary said, trotting down wooden steps that led to the pier. She strolled along jauntily, occasionally greeting people, and Nic did her best to look both inconspicuous and like she belonged.
“Who’s this, then?” an older man demanded, stepping in front of them and halting their progress. “New girl?”
“Yeh.” Dary gestured to Nic without interest. “This is Rency. I’m to show her how to instruct the barge control elementals.”
The man scowled at her, then jabbed out a hand to squeeze her arm through the thick cloak, grunting in disgust. “I guess barge control is all she’s good for. I need muscle. Can’t they send me workers with muscle?”
Dary shrugged. “Mining pays better, if ye got the muscle for it.”
“If you don’t count having to pay House Refoel to clean out your lungs every couple of moons.” The man wagged a finger at them both. “You gels aren’t too young to start thinking of these things. Cheaper to maintain your health than fix what’s already gone to shit.”
Dary spread out her hands. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, yeah.” The man waved them on. “Hey, Rency,” he called after them, and Dary elbowed Nic hard when she didn’t turn. Right.
“Yeh?” she asked, imitating Dary’s accent.
“You know your numbers?” he asked.
Dary grunted a soft sound of negation.
“Nope,” Nic replied.
“Figures,” he grunted and went on his way.
“Good answer,” Dary muttered. “But you got to get sharper, eh? Use a new name every place you stop, and remember to answer to it. You got no education and you’re none too bright. You just do what you’re told.”
“Do you… do this kind of thing often?” Nic asked.
Dary raised brows as red as her hair, wrinkling her freckled nose. “You really want an answer to that?”
No, Nic figured she was better off not knowing. Though it was clear Dary was part of a system that handled helping people escape. But who—other familiars? Or maybe people besides familiars hoping to evade their circumstances. The image of Tasha holding up her arm and showing her House Elal tattoo that would allow her to be tracked anywhere came to mind.
“Is there any chance they’ll send the hunters after ye?” Dary asked abruptly.
“Hunters?” Nic debated what the discreet answer would be. “Probably.”
Dary grunted. “Well, keep yer senses sharp.”
“Have you ever seen a hunter?”
“Nope. Most of my clients don’t rate. Ye seem like maybe you would—ye got that fancy air—so if anything looks, sounds, or smells weird…” She trailed off without offering any more advice than that.
Nic followed Dary across a gangplank, slowing as they trailed a ponderous cart to the back of the barge. Abruptly, Dary turned and squeezed between huge crates, stacked two high. Edging into an even narrower crack, she crouched and felt along the planking, then pried up a board. A dark and dank hole lay beneath. “Yer carriage, milady.” She grinned at her joke.
Nic stared at the hole, aghast. “Will I be able to get out on my own?”
Dary pondered. “Shouldn’t need to. Less’n things go wrong.”
“And if they go wrong?” Nic asked drily.
Dary looked at the hole, then back to Nic. “Then I guess ye’ll be powerful motivated to get out, eh? Now in ye go. Make it snappy, someone’s coming.”
With no real alternatives, Nic sat on the edge of the hole, dangling her feet over the edge and peering in. The feeble winter afternoon light didn’t show much, but she could see it wasn’t that deep. Just a bit more than she was tall. Jumping down, her boots squelched unpleasantly. She had just enough time to take in the square space—and the short bench perched on one side—before Dary replaced the plank, plunging the hole into darkness.
With hands out in front of her—at least she could stand more or less upright in this hidey-hole—she made her way to the bench and sat. She considered drawing up her feet, but then she’d get her one dry spot wet. If she took off her boots, she might be barefoot if she suddenly had to run.
