Gathering the coins back in the purse, Lynet eyed her heavy cloak with disgust. Wearing it in the evening had been unpleasant enough, but the idea of throwing it over her already heavy dress as the sun beat down on her through the window was unbearable. Even her thick hair seemed a burden, and she lifted it up off her neck, wondering if she should just chop it all off.
And why shouldn’t I? Her father would never have let her cut her mother’s hair, but her father was … her father wasn’t here to stop her. Before she could lose her nerve, she retrieved her dagger and cut off her hair in an uneven line that stopped at her shoulders. She immediately felt cooler, and she let out a sigh of relief, some of her energy restored. But more than that, when she saw the mess she’d made of her mother’s curls, she felt a curious kind of stillness come over her. Or no, not stillness—because her heart was pounding, and she thought she could even feel the blood flowing through her veins—but harmony. Every piece of her was finally moving together, no longer pulled in different directions to create that restless feeling under her skin.
She laughed, knowing that no one would hear her—or that it wouldn’t matter if anyone did. Being alone in a city full of people was a frightening prospect at times, but now it made her feel bold. She ventured down into the city, following the road to the busy marketplace. She bought herself a new dress, the red silk sliding over her fingers like liquid. She would be happy to be rid of her wool dress, now torn and dirty from her travels, but she decided to keep wearing her cloak when she was out, despite the heat. Always in the back of her mind was the fear that someone might recognize her. She hadn’t heard her own name since she’d run away, and she wanted to keep her identity a secret—at least until she found Gregory.
Tomorrow, she promised. She would try to find him tomorrow. She needed time to study her surroundings first.
For the rest of the day, she did just that. She wandered through the marketplace, letting the wave of the crowd pull her past baskets full of pomegranates, a stall twittering with the songs of caged birds, and carts of rolled-up woven rugs. She took note of a doll maker’s shop, reminding herself to come back with the hair she’d cut this morning and see if he would buy it from her. She went down to the river that she had crossed last night and walked along its bank. She saw a group of children wading up to their ankles in a shallower part of the river, and she did the same, ignoring the echo of her father’s voice telling her to be careful.
She did go to the doll shop the next day with a long braid of her hair, and before she left, her purse a little heavier, she asked the doll maker where she could find the apothecary. Following his directions, she went along the main road that snaked through the city in a large spiral until she turned down a shadowy road with a few scattered storefronts. She could tell which was the apothecary’s just by the smell that surrounded it, a heady mixture of lavender and rosemary.
The smell was even stronger inside the shop. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling, and behind a long counter were shelves full of bottles and vials. There were a few other people inside the small shop, and Lynet waited her turn until she could speak to the apothecary. He was an old man, but he had a youthful air, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he handled his products with loving care. Lynet approached him with a smile and asked him if he knew where she could find the magician Gregory.
The glimmer in the apothecary’s eye instantly went out as he peered at her over his desk. “Why would a young girl like you want to speak to the queen’s father?”
But Lynet had been scared off once before; she had promised herself she wouldn’t let that happen again. “That doesn’t matter,” she said, not breaking the old man’s gaze. “I just need to know where to find him.”
The apothecary shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?”
He almost smiled. “He comes here often enough, but I don’t know where he goes after he leaves my shop. He keeps to himself.”
Lynet thanked him for his time and left the shop, wondering what she should do now. Before she’d gone more than a few steps, she felt a hand start to clamp around her arm.
At once, Lynet pulled her arm away and brought out her dagger, whirling around to face whoever was accosting her. The memory of being robbed in the woods was still fresh in her mind, and she was determined to put up a fight this time.
A young man with messy dark hair was facing her, his hands up to show Lynet that he meant no harm. She recognized him as one of the other customers in the apothecary’s shop, and she lowered her dagger. “What do you want?” she demanded.
“I heard you asking about the queen’s father,” he said with a roguish smile. “I know where you can find him.”
“Then tell me where,” she said, and for a moment she didn’t recognize her own voice. It sounded deeper to her, stronger, without any hint of uncertainty, and she wondered if it was because there was no one else to speak for her anymore. She couldn’t afford to be anything but certain now. Perhaps she was slowly shifting, just like the snow, transforming into someone else.
The young man looked her up and down with an appreciative lift of his eyebrows. “I thought we could go together.”
Lynet studied him more closely, noticing that despite his confidence and his height, he looked only thirteen or fourteen. “Thank you for the offer,” she said, her voice softening, “but I’m not looking for a guide. Do you really know where he lives?”
The boy shrugged, his posture easing a little now that his attempt at flirtation had failed. “Sometimes he asks me to deliver things for him. When I do, I always leave them on the steps of the abandoned church behind the university.”
“Thank you,” Lynet said. “You’ve been very helpful.” She pulled out a couple of coins from her purse and held them out to the boy, but he shook his head and backed away.
“No need,” he said. “Just seeing your pretty face was payment enough.”
Lynet hid a smile as he strolled past her and she set off to continue her search alone, but she soon began to wish she hadn’t dismissed the boy’s help so easily. Lynet traced the university walls around to the back of the grounds, and as promised, she found an old, abandoned churchyard down a short, dusty path, hidden behind some oak trees. But when Lynet marched up to the door, she found it locked.