Page 55 of Of Glass and of Gold

27

Nora

Sent on another errand run, I realized how heightened my market experience had become. In a stall near the center square was a baker co-conspirator. By the docks, remnants of ash from where my nighttime accomplice and I took down human traffickers. At the crest, the stage in which the prince announced a marriage—the thing he would never realize was the nail in his coffin.

The coins rattled in the pouch as I weaved through the bustling midday throng. They silenced as I slammed myself to a halt, spinning around when I’d heard someone call my name, a voice that I didn’t recognize.

“Nora?” she said.

I turned to see a woman around my age, hair as black as shadows, and flawless ebony skin. I was drawn to her eyes, how against the dark brown the sun played tricks as if light blue occasionally peeked through.

“Yes. Do I know you?” I couldn’t place her.

She closed the distance. “No, actually, but I’ve been told you can help me.”

My heart turned leaden in my chest. I wondered if she’d found out about me from the Citadels. My gaze darted to those around us, concerned about anyone who might overhear.

“You know the baker, right?” she asked.

My stomach flipped like it was a professional acrobat. “Yes.” My voice quaked, second-guessing if I should have lied the moment the confirmation slipped through my lips.

“Perfect! This might sound a little strange, but do you think he would let me take his rotten scraps?”

Was this some sort of code? I hadn’t asked Alejo if there was a special, private way his group communicated out in the open. I blinked from the surprise of her question. “Pardon?”

“You know, food that’s gone bad? Stale things he can’t sell?”

“Oh, uh…I can ask him? Sorry, who are you?” My brow furrowed.

“Alaina.” She extended her hand in greeting and I took it. “You were at the Magic Supporters meeting.”

My heart returned to a living, beating organ again. I took in a deep breath of relief, my torrent of worry dammed up. “I was, yes.” That’s where she knew me from. “Of course I can ask him. Actually, I’m on my way to him right now, if you’d like to join me? I can make an introduction.”

She bounced on her heels, eyes wide with delight, like a child receiving a birthday gift. “That would be wonderful! I haven’t had much luck with any of the meat vendors. They snapped at me for even asking. Things are a little tense in this town.”

I gestured for her to follow and together we strode toward the baker’s stand. “Yeah, we have a lot of poverty here. They’ve become annoyed with the beggars in the community and have resolved to let people starve instead of actually helping. Where are you from? What brings you down to South Harbor?”

A string of dirty-faced children sped by, cutting us off. “Things aren’t much better where I’m from. But if I can return with rotten food, it’ll help,” she said.

We resumed our stride. “How?” I questioned, my stomach turning slightly queasy at the thought of moldy food. I placed my hand over my stomach and tried to hide my wincing.

“We don’t eat the rotten food, don’t worry.” She smirked, finding amusement in my reaction.

Before I could probe further, the last client stepped away from Alejo’s stand. “Hi Alejo, this is Alaina. She has a question for you.”

He clapped his flour-dusted hands, forming a cloud in the air. “Hello Nora. How can I help?”

“Do you have any unusable goods you’d be willing to part with?” my new acquaintance asked.

Alejo quirked an eyebrow. “Usually those go to the local farmers for their livestock. What would you want with them? Not to eat, I hope?” He flashed a glance at me, and the silent communication was all too loud. A reminder of the connection we now shared, an undetectable warning to make sure we kept our business under wraps. I shifted on my feet.

“I’d rather not say, but it would help a lot of people, immensely. I can even offer you some coin.” She started digging through her satchel, but Alejo raised a hand.

“Please. I won’t take money for turned baked goods. I only have a couple loaves for you now, but I may have more by the end of the day. I close at four. Now, I can’t do this every day, but I can spare a day a week if you need.”

Alaina’s shoulders sagged, as if releasing tension she’d been holding since we’d met. “That would be wonderful.”

Alejo grabbed a couple loaves, and she deposited the blue-tinged breads in her satchel. I placed my order, clarifying I would take the ones sans mold, but we didn’t exchange any more words than that, especially not with Alaina standing nearby.

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