Michel grew even more cognizant of the fact that Tenik had been sent to keep an eye on him. Everything he shared with Tenik would be revealed to Yaret, and might affect Michel’s standing. Carelessly giving away information, he decided, would be a stupid way to end his short stint with the Dynize.
“Hendres accused me of being a spy for the Dynize,” Michel said. “She tried to kill me.”
“You became a traitor because you were falsely accused of being a traitor?”
Michel didn’t like the word “traitor.” It ignored the complexities of what being a spy actually meant. “Yes,” he said.
“And why did she think you were a traitor?”
“Because one of our safe houses was raided by Dynize soldiers while I was away. She barely escaped, and only the two of us knew about the safe house.” It was close enough to the truth for Michel. He added a twist of anger to his words—also real—and clicked his tongue. “Speaking of which, do you see that woman with the brown hair down at the end of the street?”
“I do.”
“That’s her.”
Michel took a deep breath to calm himself as he watched Hendres mill about the intersection at the end of the street, checking subtly for a possible ambush. Her body language was tense and she checked the street, rooftops, and tenement doorway several times before finally coming down the street and heading inside. It seemed she was still spooked from coming back to the Dynize stakeout last week.
“She didn’t see us,” Tenik observed.
“She didn’t check the windows at all,” Michel said. “She really needs to learn to do that.”
“What next?”
“You don’t have to whisper,” Michel responded. “Even if she was still in the street, she wouldn’t hear us.”
Tenik cleared his throat and his cheeks flushed. “So what next?” he asked in a normal voice.
“Now we wait.”
Tenik rolled his eyes and returned to the corner of the room, slumping down on the floor. The familiar flicking sound of him flipping a coin soon began. Michel waited, nearly stepping back from the window when he saw a curtain flutter in Hendres’s safe-house room.
“Now we know where she’s staying,” Michel said over his shoulder. “We can come back tomorrow morning and wait until she goes out, and then …” He paused as Hendres suddenly appeared in the tenement doorway. “Shit, never mind. Come with me, now!”
Michel left the room at a run, heading down the hallway without waiting to see if Tenik had followed him. He went up two floors, then climbed out the window of an abandoned apartment and around the ledge, then hiked himself up onto the roof. He crossed it in a few moments and crouched down, searching the traffic below.
It wasn’t long until he spotted Hendres heading north. He heard a clatter behind him, and Tenik joined him a moment later with a string of words in Dynize that were definitely curses.
“Come on,” Michel told him, heading to the other side of the roof and quickly climbing down the chimney sweep’s ladder. He caught up to Hendres a few blocks later, falling into step a hundred paces back and pulling his hat down over his face. He indicated that Tenik do the same.
“The trick to following someone,” Michel explained in a low voice, “is to stay far enough away that they won’t suspect you’re on their tail—but close enough that you won’t lose them when they inevitably turn corners or go into buildings.”
“What happens when they go into buildings?”
“Depends. If you’re trying to catch them, you make sure it’s not a trap, then set your own. It helps to have some thugs with you.”
“And if you’re not trying to catch them?”
“Then you wait until they come out again.”
Tenik groaned.
“Hold up,” Michel said, turning to face a shop window as Hendres stopped at an intersection and checked behind her. He watched her out of the corner of his eye while pretending to study a hat, then turned to follow her again once she’d kept going. “I dyed my hair after I last saw her,” Michel explained. “It won’t hold up to a close examination, but it’s enough to fool her at a distance.”
“Is she that stupid?”
“People are that stupid,” Michel responded. “You’d be surprised at what even a cautious person will overlook.”
They soon left the industrial quarter, and passed the old dockside market and the ruins of the eastern face of the plateau. Out in the harbor, Fort Nied sat pitted and forlorn, mostly ignored by the occupying force. Hendres crossed the river and rounded the plateau to head into the northern suburbs.
She stopped at two different buildings, both times briefly, before continuing her journey. One of the stops was at the bar of a known Blackhat contact, and the second was unfamiliar to Michel. He tried to put himself in her shoes, working through her route, trying to figure out what she was doing.
“How do we know when we’ve followed her to the right place?” Tenik asked quietly while they waited for her outside yet a third stop.
“We don’t,” Michel responded. “It might be obvious, or we might have to stake out all of these places.”
“We’re trying to find this other Gold Rose?”
“Exactly. If we’re lucky, she’ll have already made contact with him since my departure and she’ll lead us right to him.”
“If we’re unlucky?”
“If we’re unlucky, she’s spotted us and is leading us into a trap.” With those words, Michel double-checked his pocket to make sure his knuckle-dusters were still there. They were. He didn’t want to be caught unawares again like he had with Forgula.
He stopped at an intersection to wait for a column of Dynize soldiers to walk by, tipping his hat to them. Tenik gave him a questioning look.
“Force of habit,” Michel said. “You’re less likely to notice someone with good manners. Not great manners, mind you. Just good ones.” The column passed by and he swore under his breath.
“I don’t see her,” Tenik said.
“Me neither. Pit. Head down, keep walking. Watch to your right out of the corner of your eye. I’ll watch the left.”
They continued straight down the street past a row of shops, half of which were boarded up. This was a residential area, lower middle class, and had maintained much of its population after the evacuation. No one paid them any mind, and after they’d gone two blocks Michel whispered to Tenik to turn around.
They did a second sweep, coming up with nothing.
“She’s got to be in one of these buildings,” Michel said. “But the longer we linger, the more chance she’ll look out a window and notice us standing around. Over here.” Michel headed into a nearby bakery, following his nose into the front of the shop where hot loaves had just come out of the oven. “Don’t stand out,” he said quietly. “Buy something.”
Tenik went up to the counter while Michel turned to watch out the front window.
“We don’t take those,” a voice said loudly.
Michel turned to find Tenik offering the baker a Dynize rations card. Tenik opened his mouth, but Michel stepped in to intercede, handing over a couple of Fatrastan coins. He thanked the baker and pulled Tenik back outside, where he tore the loaf in half.
Tenik scowled back at the door. “These are valid,” he said, shaking the rations card under Michel’s nose. “The government has ordered that all businesses accept them.”
“Don’t worry too much about it,” Michel said, bemused by Tenik’s indignation. “You look like a Palo and dress like a Palo. They’re going to treat you like one. Which means they won’t let you pay with a currency that might not be any good in a few months.”
“He thinks Dynize will lose the war?” Tenik looked like he was ready to march back inside. Michel took him by the arm and led him away.