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I left the room without bothering to argue. I would never use my power to force someone to comply—if I could even do such a thing. When I called the griffon from the sky, it was a plea, not enforcing my will. I lived under Kirill’s thumb long enough to know I never wanted to force another to obey me.
Lumi had come here, and while I was no longer a thief, I was not above applying my hard-won skills to search for clues of her plans and whereabouts. When next would I have a chance to be unobserved in Popova’s home?
I tapped the next door down the hall, and when the lack of response and magic confirmed the room was empty, I slipped inside a storage room. Luckily, Popova’s well-maintained house seemed to have neither creaking floorboards nor locked doors. Who would be bat-bitten enough to steal from the Witch of Lowtown?
The crack in the door allowed the afternoon sun to seep inside and illuminate tight-packed shelves. One side held labeled glass beakers and bottles with colorful ribbons around their necks—red for luck, white for death, green for life, and black for the rest. All a thief’s dream but none would hold clues to my sister’s plans. The other two walls were much more curious. Gears and springs, molded togetherfor purposes I could not even guess at. Lumi would have loved them for she had forever hovered around the night market booths from Sorach, wanting to snatch a machine only to pick it apart and reveal its mysteries.
The machines were marked by the same colored ribbons—how could something powered by steam bring luck? Life?I brushed my fingers over them, finding impressions in the metal invisible in the low light. My fingers itched. I could take one, no one would notice. Perhaps Dimitri would know what it was. But… I was no thief.
Repeating it silently to myself. I watched Popova’s relatives walk past outside. I kept my hands to myself until the corridor was empty, and left, her treasures untouched.
Magic and low chatter told me the next rooms were occupied. Without being seen, I scurried up the stairs.
Popova owned the whole block, but after looking inside a few rooms, I surmised the second floor was separated from the rest of the business and held personal living spaces. The search was painfully slow, for more than once someone came upstairs, and I had to hide.
When only two empty rooms remained, I eased out of another closet but refused to leave empty-handed. There must be something. Testing the next door, I almost walked straight into the wood before realizing this one, unlike all the others, was locked.
Excited, I wet my lips and wished for my sister’s lockpicks. Pressing my eye against the keyhole, I saw a room missing the personal touches the others had. The drawn curtains made me first mistake the raised form on the bed as pillows.
Then it groaned.
I flinched back, heart pounding. Had they heard me pull at the door handle? Were they about to call out? How had I not felt someone inside?
Opening my inner wall further, I directed the magic. First there was nothing—not the cold touch of the undead or warmth of life. Then a shadow of a person, so faint I barely recognized it. Could it be someone sick with the plague, locked away to separate them from the rest of the family? Could the truths in the letter I carried help the one inside?
I pressed against the wall, feeling a sense of responsibility I never had before. Raised voices and footsteps approached too fast from somewhere in the back rooms. I should not have lingered. Thieving should have taught me better.
With no other option, I rushed to the final door, thanking the Wishmaker when the handle turned and it swung open.
Inside, gears and cogs lined the window shelf and books covered the floor. It reminded me of the table in the prince’s chambers. More, it reminded me of my sister. The sick person, responsibility and fear of discovery all slipped my mind.
This was her room.
Hoping luck would stay with me, I flipped pages and searched for any trace of what she planned. A thin book described the governance of Sorach, where anyone with a set amount of money could vote on who should lead the city. Another exalted the power of the masses, stating enough sheep could take down a wolf. In the corner lay badly printed pamphlets, blaming the royals for anything from the taxes to uneven streets.
Lumi’s views had never been laid before me so clearly, but they did not bring any surprises. I had listened to my sister for years. Shewanted change and was willing to fight for it. That she favored Sorach with its votes and machines was no surprise. Once, we dreamt of going there together to build the life we’d dreamt up under the stars.
While none of this told me where she was now, it did prove one thing—she was coming back here. I only needed to wait.
With another place to add to my growing surveillance list, I snuck downstairs again and left through the back door.
The afternoon heat wrapped around me. Whatever Popova was, her place remained unnaturally cool, the air outside a sticky, oppressive blanket threatening to suffocate.
I staggered. Finding my sister’s hideaway should have made me happy. It was progress. Even the meeting with Popova had gone as well as she could. So why did invisible hands squeeze my heart? Dread squirm in my belly?
I stopped in the shadowed tunnel dividing the courtyard from the alley to gather myself. I knew more than before, had a path forward, and still it seemed like too little, too late. How would I find the time to hover outside Popova’s shop without drawing her attention?
The sweet scent of rambling roses wrapped around me, an arch thick enough to hide sky and stone. Their stalks shoot straight up, only bending to support the heavy, pink flowers on top, their wicked thorns protecting them from passersby. The cultivated roses grew lower, their blossoms easily reachable and thorns spread or all gone. To live wild in Tal, you had to grow your own thorns and risk hurting those who dared to come close.
Perhaps if I spread my magic into everyone’s minds again and pleaded, Lumi would finally answer and we could skip all the steps in between. Why hold back if they already knew what I was? WouldPopova respect me then? This was about more than us. If Dimitri was willing to work with me, he was able to put hurt—and all other—feelings aside.
If I wanted to belong, I would have to do the same. Risk everything.
I removed my magic walls.
Risk Ealhswip’s wrath.
The magic stretched, encompassing the block.
