“No use having the silver without servants to polish it,” I said, stretching my back, getting ready to make a move. “You wouldn’t have wanted to do it. You grumble enough about the lamps.”
“Well, we all should learn the value of a little sweat,” she said, as if I was the one who had been complaining.
She put the plate she had been dusting away, then put her hands on the doors of the hutch to close them.
Quick as a flash, the handkerchief flew up and wrapped itself around her wrist and the handle of the hutch.
“What on earth?” Clara tried to tug her hand away and the handkerchief twisted itself as tight as it could and tied into a viciously tiny, tight knot.
This was not quite what I had in mind, but—it would do.
Clara was trying to undo the knot with her free hand. “Sabela, is this some witchcraft?”
I bolted for the door.
I could hear her behind me, yanking on the door of the hutch, trying to pull free. “Sabela!”
I ran into the street, racing for the library. I was tempted to simply pick one of the roads leading north and try my luck, but I didn’t have much money, and Father could send a search party after me. I didn’t have time to get lost on the roads. Checking a map first was necessary. All I needed to know was which road ultimately led to Pony’s Brook.
I ducked down a back alley, hoping to avoid notice. I had to slow my steps before entering the library, so I didn’t look too suspicious. It was quiet inside, as usual, with the sweet smell of paper. I used to think it was enormous but Nyar’s library was the same size, and better, because it wasn’t full of men who gave me a glance like I didn’t belong there. The library was technically open to women, but men always outnumbered them. Men were more likely to be encouraged to educate themselves.
I knew the library well, so I moved straight to the books of maps and pulled out a book covering our region. It was hard to do the tedious work of looking up indexes and scouring maps when my heart was practically springing out of my chest, sure that at any moment, Clara would come bursting in to drag me home. My head kept darting toward the door, like a squirrel or a rabbit who always looks up while eating, watching for predators.
My eyes swept over the pages. There. The small creek was only about a day’s walk north of here. I had no food or money, so I wasn’t looking forward to the journey, but I’d get there if I had to beg, borrow, or steal.
The door to the library banged open and out of pure instinct I dove under a table.
It was Clara, with one of the city guards. “There she is,” she said, pointing at me.
I might have been able to elude Clara, but I wasn’t about to have all the men in the library see me dragged off by the city guard. They were already staring. I crawled out from under the table with as much dignity as I could muster, and walked up to them, surrendering myself. I met Clara’s eyes.
“Are you here to arrest me? On what charge?” I glanced at the guard, a clean-cut young man.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing.” She leaned closer to me. “Do you want to be known as a witch?”
“You know perfectly well that I’m not a witch. If I was, I would have had a much easier time getting away.”
“Come on, miss,” the guard said, urging me toward the door. “It sounds like you have a busy evening ahead.” He sounded more bemused than anything. I suppose guards dealt with more family squabbles than I expected. Fairhaven was usually a pretty peaceful place.
I was escorted home in humiliation, trying to smother my panic. Clara would never trust me again, which was just as well, because I didn’t trust her either, but I still needed to get away.
“Where is the handkerchief?” I asked her.
“The handkerchief that attacked me? I don’t know. It escaped.”
At least that was one relief. I was afraid she might have burned it or cut it to bits. I had already lost Knife.
Although no one knew what I had been doing at the library, everyone guessed I had been plotting escape. My family didn’t understand, and how could I blame them? They didn’t know the beauty of the caverns or how the pain of Nyar’s situation ripped at my heart, the magic of the moonlight or anything else I had experienced.
When Father got home, he locked me in my room and told me, his voice tinged with regret, that I had to wait there until Mr. Vedast came. “And you had better be on your best behavior when we let you out, my Beauty, please. We’re all counting on you.”
Although my bedroom was on the second floor, I still considered jumping out one of the windows. But if I broke my leg, I really wouldn’t be able to help Nyar.
As I was pacing the room, the handkerchief crawled out from under the bed. It moved nervously, reminding me of a shy animal, but I was happy beyond reason to see it. “There you are!” I whispered. “Thank you for earlier.”
It folded over in a sort of bow.
“I’m keeping you close,” I said. “Hopefully I won’t need you again. I have a plan.” I explained my plan to find Keely to the handkerchief, even though it couldn’t respond. It might like to know what it was getting into. Then I tucked the handkerchief in my apron pocket.
Before long, evening was coming on and I could hear a carriage pulling up outside and bustling downstairs, as Father and my sisters prepared for their visitor. The door opened, followed by a burst of enthusiastic welcomes.
“Let me get Sabela,” Father said. His footsteps creaked up the stairs.
When he opened the door, I was sitting on the bed, trying to look harmless enough. “Mr. Vedast is here. Hopefully you’ve had some time to calm down.”
I refused to show how nervous I was, but my clammy palms threatened to betray me. I swiped them on my apron.
Mr. Vedast was standing in the center of our parlor. He was tall and good-looking in a conventional sense, with thick brown hair and green eyes, a strong jaw, expensive clothes that fit well to his broad frame. For a merchant, I thought, he was not just a man who sat behind a desk.
He smiled when he saw me, in a confident way that suggested he didn’t expect any trouble from me at all. Taking my hand, he gave the top of it a peck and said, “Miss Sabela. You are truly as beautiful as I remember.”
The compliment had always left me cold, but especially now. With the eyes of my entire family on me, I just curtseyed in response. I could at least endure this dinner with politeness.
“But, as your father may have told you, I was particularly impressed by your bravery. For a girl of your station to venture alone to the goblin king’s lair, well, it must have taken no small measure of courage.”
Lair? I would not call it that. The word suggested more of a dirty hovel than the glittering, spacious rooms of Nyar’s caverns. I just smiled.