“Will you stop by again?” She’s friendly in a way girls have never treated me. It almost makes me want to linger. “Perhaps we’ll have more work for you in the winter months.”
A door opens and closes in the inn before heavy footsteps fall on the wood floor. Through the opening that separates the kitchen from the dining room, Leif’s reddish hair is distinguishable. He stops at the table and places a bag on top. Dress or no dress, I’ve no doubt he’ll recognize me if he notices me. Not wanting to risk speaking, I shrug in answer to her question and then move toward the kitchen’s back door.
“What did you say your name was?” she asks, before I’m clear.
I shove my clammy hands into my dress pockets and silently plead for Leif to be gone. I slowly twist to face her so only my profile is visible to the dining area. I don’t dare look in Leif’s direction to see if he’s still there. This way, he won’t be able to see my entire face. By the gods, my accent better be believable enough.
“My name’s Essa.” It’s all I could come up with on the spot and immediately regret as my response pricks through me. It’s too close to Enat.
Waving once more at the maid to end the conversation, I force my feet through the doorway. My muscles are screaming to run, flight instinct taking over, though I don’t risk making any quick movements.
“Wait.”
Twenty steps are all I’ve taken before Leif calls out behind me.
I could run for it, except the chase would draw too much attention. Pleading is an option, not that it did any good the last time.
My hands are in knots as I find myself praying that he won’t realize it’s me, that this costume will be enough. If my nerves weren’t wound so tight, I’d laugh at myself. It’s hard to believe I’m this girl, clean-faced, wearing a dress and a bonnet, and pleading with the gods like some fool.
Twisting slightly, I drop my chin so the bonnet shades my face. “Yes, sir?”
“The girl said you work for the tailor.”
I nod.
“I’m looking for a woman named Enat. She frequent your shop?”
I shake my head, itching to run. Relax. Focus is a weapon as much as your bow. “No, sir. I don’t know her.” I keep my accent true to Shaerdan.
He doesn’t answer, nor does he leave.
The moment stretches for excruciating ages, and my lungs burn from the breath I’m holding. He must know it’s me. Panic fires through me, lighting a blaze in my feet till they’re shifting and ready to run.
“Thank you, miss,” he says finally.
Shocked and relieved, I resist the urge to glance back as I hurry away.
Only when ten blocks are between us do I slip into an alley, check to see I’m alone, and then suck in deep breaths. Crescent marks of blood bubble to the surface of my palms where my nails dug deep.
That was too close.
Chapter
26
AN OLD CHURCH RESTS ON THE EDGE OF the cliff at the south end of town. Cohen meets me in the cloisters, and then, before either of us speaks, he has me follow him into the garden. When we’re tucked behind a row of towering hedges near the cliff face, with only a short-stacked wall separating us from the edge where violent waves crash below, he’s ready to talk.
“It’s better here.” Cohen’s mouth is at my ear because it’s too loud to hear him otherwise. The longing to press closer to him twists me up inside. I want to punch myself for even considering it.
“Delmar said the Archtraitor’s agreed to meet at Enat’s home in the morning.”
Millner’s possession of a charm to enter the tree cave speaks of Enat’s trust of the man.
“He said Millner wasn’t surprised that Enat wanted to speak with him,” Cohen says. Up till now the hunt for Papa’s murderer felt like we were chipping away at a glacier. What a relief it is to know we’re on the verge of an answer. “Millner knew we were in town.”
“How?”
“The guards have been talking to everyone.” The warmth of his breath cascades over my ear, clashing with the brisk wind from the ocean. I suppress a shudder and try not to focus on how our proximity makes me feel. I consider mentioning the run-in with Leif and decide against it. Leif didn’t recognize me, so it’s inconsequential.
“Delmar also mentioned that Omar and his men are leaving town tomorrow.”
Cohen moves back so I have a view of his face. He doesn’t look pleased about the development. He glances toward the horizon, where whitecaps line the deep blue ocean. “Omar isn’t the type to go on a wild-goose chase. He likes to lay a trap. You told Omar you wanted to prove I’m innocent. So Omar knows you’ll return to Malam. That’s where he’ll wait.”
I watch the seagulls fighting against the wind as they make their way closer to the cliff. I feel like I’m one of them, fighting against my position in life, fighting against the solitude, and now fighting for my freedom.