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“There’s another shipment coming in next week,” I heard someone whisper across the almost empty room. Something in the voice sounded desperate. I slowly put down my fork and swallowed a mouthful of cheese. I leaned back in my chair, placing my hands on my stomach, and shifted my shoulders in the direction of the voice.
It belonged to a large man, hunched over a small table. His hands were huge and calloused from hard labor. His skin was tanned and weather-beaten, accentuating the fairness of his hair. Beside him was his opposite. A tiny man whose feet hovered above the floor as he sat on the cushioned seat of his chair. He had a crooked nose and wide eyes that tracked across the room.
I had never seen either of these men before.
“So you say. The last one never arrived,” the small man said. His lips barely moved, and his face was turned away from his comrade. I doubted anyone but me and his friend knew he had said anything at all.
“Probably had trouble along the way,” replied the larger man. He raised a brow and bent his chin. To him, trouble meant dead.
Like Rylan and his missing shipment.
“We don’t even have a place to store any of it. I told you to tell him no.” The wide-eyed man twitched. He tried to cover it by lifting a dainty hand to scratch the scar along his nose.
“We’ll make do. People are hungry, and winter is near. Do you want a repeat of what happened last year?” He slammed his large hand into the table sending it into a wobbling frenzy. The tiny man’s hand shot forward to steady it. His head snapped back over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
I faked a yawn, stretching one arm out as I took a swig from my goblet. I leaned back in the chair and hung my neck like I was resting. I heard the tiny man turn back toward his friend.
“But if we can’t hide it, someone will find it and then what good will it do?”
“We could askhimto help,” the large man said, matching his friend’s hushed tone. “He might have a second location we could use.”
I peered at the men from beneath my hood. The tiny man was waving his feet underneath the table and shaking his head. “Why are you so eager to trust a man you’ve never met?”
My ears twitched and I had to stop myself from sitting up.
“That’s not true,” the big man said. “We’ve met.”
There was an edge to his answer and in the defensive shrug he paired with it. Perhaps I wouldn’t need Rylan as bait after all.
“You can’t meet a man if you’ve never seen his face.” The tiny one leaned forward across the table. “You have no idea what he looks like or what his name is.”
I didn’t need to hear the man’s response to know who they were talking about.
The Shadow.
I stood without thinking, cutting across the room to where the men sat in five paces. “You’re speaking of the Shadow,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
The small man froze against his chair while the larger one reared back as if to attack, but I moved faster. I lifted the table off the floor and smacked it down against his knee. He fell forward, and I grabbed his head with my hand. A thin razor blade peeked from between my fingers. The large man blinked at the glint of the metal. I unsheathed my dagger and pointed it at his small companion.
“You move, you die,” I warned.
The small man nodded. The large man’s eyes danced between my blade and my hood. I pressed the steel to his chest. “Got it?” I asked, giving him a hard shove into his chair.
“Yes,” he breathed. He spotted the fastener at my neck and sweat began to pool along his brow. I could see his heartbeat pulsing at his thick neck.
“I know you are talking about the Shadow,” I said again.
“We weren’t talking about—” I interrupted the small man with a soft prick of the dagger. He squealed and leaped back in his chair hard enough that it hit the wall.
“I don’t care.” I rolled my eyes at the tiny ball whimpering on the chair. “I’m not going to out you to the King... I have a message for you to give the Shadow the next time you see him.”
“We can’t kill him!” the small man exclaimed, peering through his fingers. Thin red lines surrounded his wide eyes.
I scoffed and shook my head.
“I don’t need you to kill him,” I said, lowering my dagger. He cautiously lifted his tiny head. “Just tell him something for me,” I finished.
“What?” The big oaf puffed out his chest. He studied me, eyes following my dark brown plait until it disappeared into my hood. They stopped at the silver sword, not meeting my gaze.
