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I can deal out justice my own way.
As the merchant accepts Zuzanna’s payment, I palm my favorite knife. He drops the smaller coins into the change purse at his hip—and a larger piece of silver into the broader pouch at his back, bulging with the earnings from past sales.
He thinks his money is safer back there, out of reach of the people he can see. A smile curls my lips.
He’s all but handed the loot to me. So kind of him.
The crooks who prey on the fringes of the capital have gotten warier as word of vanishing money has gotten around. But I never leave an obvious sign of exactly when or how I’ve done my work, and I’ve got a multitude of tricks up my sleeves.
I wait until the merchant turns to face the rest of the onlookers again. With his billowing trousers hiding me from view, I lean slightly out of the shadows and flick the blade of my knife across the tanned leather partway up the pouch’s side.
As the merchant answers a man’s question about supposedly strength-enhancing charms, I give the leather bag a gentle palpitation. Several thick coins, each enough to feed a family for a day, roll from the small hole into my hand.
While I slide my first plunder into a hidden inner pocket by my waist, the merchant swivels to pluck a charm off his display. I hold still, crouched beneath the wagon.
A flash of sapphire blue at the edge of the crowd catches my gaze, and my body goes totally rigid.
Heart thudding, I track the soldier’s stroll toward the wagon. His glossy black boots and trim pants gleam in the late-afternoon sun.
The capital city’s official police force, the Crown’s Watch, doesn’t patrol the outskirts of Florian often. They’re more concerned with protecting the gentlefolk in the buffed stone houses closer to the royal palace.
But if this soldier notices me at work, he’ll feel the need to intervene. And if the Watch gets their hands on me, they might realize there’s a whole lot more than petty thievery they can charge me with.
One wrong movement will mean a trip straight to the gallows.
The shiny black boots come to a stop less than ten feet away. I grit my teeth, bracing myself to bolt.
Anyone else might pray to the godlen for luck or protection at a moment like this, but the last thing I’ll ever want is their attention. Our lesser gods would be the first to punish me for what I am.
I can’t even say I wouldn’t deserve it.
The hiss of my mother’s voice rises up in the back of my mind.You brought a curse down on us, Ivy. It was all you, wasn’t it?
The scars on my back itch. I swallow thickly and shove the memory away.
Maybe I can never make up for the horrors I’ve committed. Maybe my soul is forfeit. But I’m trying to do more good than harm now.
I need to live. I need a little more time to write a new story for myself, to make a different mark on the world than how I started the tale.
I’m never going to be a hero, but when I meet my end,Iwant to be sure I was more than a villain. No matter what anyone else will see when that noose tightens around my neck.
The soldier’s voice rings out, arrogant and bored. “No one here’s giving you any trouble I hope, good merchant?”
I bite back a snort. The only person making real trouble is the man he’s talking to, which he could no doubt figure out if he gave a roach’s ass.
“Not at all,” the merchant replies smoothly. “I’ve gotten an excellent welcome.”
The boots turn. The soldier ambles off, and I gradually let out my breath.
The conman goes on plying his wares. Heismaking good business, cajoling yet another customer into handing over their sparse earnings for a glimmer of opportunity.
His success makes him confident—and careless. While he deals with a lonely spinster and then a struggling shopkeeper, I massage more coins out of his pouch. Taking the silver bit by bit ensures he doesn’t register the lightening of the weight at his back.
The crowd thins. I slip a final bunch of coins into one of my pockets before feeding a few handfuls of pebbles into the merchant’s pouch to replace what I’ve stolen.
May it take him until nightfall to realize that he’s lost nearly all of his stash.
His stop here has cost him far more than he’s taken from his marks. With another grim smile, I pull back. I have to slink well clear of the wagon before the merchant sets off.
