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“What about this one, then?” an unfamiliar voice called out just above me.
I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would make a difference.
“That one’s apples.”
The man beside me grunted in response, the location of the sound suggesting he had squatted down. I strained my limbs against the sides of the barrel, holding myself in position as I was lifted suddenly into the air.
“Oof!” The man exclaimed as I was rocked violently from side to side, barely holding my position. “You really packed them in this time!”
“Only the best for the law keepers’ hall,” the delivery man responded, making the helper grunt again.
I dropped suddenly downward, barely suppressing a cry of pain as my rear end hit the ground. Tears welled in my eyes as I held another breath, waiting for the sound of footsteps moving away from the barrel.
Finally they came, and I allowed myself to relax, my arms and legs dropping limply. I couldn’t relax for long, however. I needed to listen if I wanted to work out when everyone had left the room.
Now that my barrel had been unloaded, it seemed to take forever for them to unload the remaining supplies. But finally I heard the creaking of wheels as the cart was pulled out of the room, followed by a number of clomping feet and dwindling voices.
I remained motionless until I heard the door close, however, and even then, I made myself count to a hundred. When no further sounds reached my ears during that time, I placed both hands against the lid of the barrel.
Pushing upward, I displaced it, carefully keeping hold of the edges rather than letting it fall to the floor with a crash. I wanted to burst out of the barrel at all speed, but I forced myself to move slowly.
As soon as my head was free, I froze and examined the room. It was mostly dark, although some light leaked in from under the door and through the one dusty window in the far wall. But my eyes were already adjusted after the dim inside the barrel, and I quickly ascertained that I was alone.
The moment I reached this conclusion, I clambered the rest of the way out of the barrel, nearly knocking it over in my haste. I caught myself and it just in time, placing it carefully back upright and setting the lid in place.
Stepping back, I examined it and nodded. From the outside, it looked undisturbed.
I crept toward the door, wondering what I would do if I found it locked. Thoughts of a locked door made me think of Nik. He could easily take care of that problem, but where was he now?
He had to be inside the hall, but where had he chosen to hide? I looked over my shoulder, although I knew it was only wishful thinking that he might appear out of the depths of the room. It was better if I thought of myself as alone, anyway. It would make me that much more careful.
Pressing my ear against the door, I checked for silence before even attempting to turn the door handle. To my relief, it responded easily beneath my hand. Apparently the hall’s residents trusted their own and didn’t feel it necessary to lock away their supplies.
Easing the door open, I slipped out into the empty corridor beyond. I had spent some time in Caltor’s law keepers’ hall, so I was familiar with the location of the suite of rooms used by the head of the hall. But that did me little good when I didn’t know my starting point. I had never had occasion to visit the kitchen or storerooms of Caltor’s hall.
I had two options. I could keep my cloak and skulk around, keeping to back corridors and attempting to avoid running into anyone. Or I could leave my cloak behind and walk confidently through the hall, trying to look like I belonged. With the doors barred to outsiders, anyone already inside would be assumed to be a legitimate presence.
Taking a gamble, I folded my cloak and stashed it back inside the storeroom. Forcing my head high, I headed left, moving toward the main part of the hall. Once I reached the more public areas, I would be able to work out where I was and go from there.
The true test came when I heard footsteps. It was too late to change strategy, though, so I kept my pace steady, hiding my hands in my skirts to conceal their trembling.
The approaching people turned out to be servants. The older woman was too busy berating a timid-looking girl to pay me any heed. The girl glanced up as they passed me, a slight wrinkle appearing between her brows. But she quickly cast her eyes back down, making no comment. Even if she questioned my presence, she didn’t look like she was going to say anything.
I breathed a little easier as I rounded a corner and left their sight. My spirits lifted even further when I recognized a staircase ahead of me. Hurrying up it, I finally found myself in a familiar corridor. Best of all, I didn’t have far to go to reach Miro’s office. They must have positioned his rooms so his food wouldn’t get cold while it was being brought from the kitchens.
Hurrying down the corridor, I almost didn’t hear the footsteps approaching from a side hallway. There was more than one pair of feet, by the sound of it, although they weren’t moving in sync.
“Excuse me!” a strident male voice called. “Who are you?”
I froze, the blood draining from my face. But when I looked around, no one had come into sight. Both sets of footsteps had stopped, however, and I realized the man was addressing an unseen person in the side corridor.
Creeping forward, I peered around the corner to see an astonished-looking girl with a duster in her hand.
“I’m one of the maids,” she said with a confused look.
The young man confronting her frowned deeply, clearly trying to look more important and officious than his years suggested.
“I don’t recognize you.”
