So I keep quiet until the guards’ footsteps fade into the night.
And into the shadows, Astor and I fade away.
CHAPTER 26
WENDY
This poor carriage driver. Druisk, I think his name is.
Astor has him at knifepoint, angled up against the side of the carriage so that his aged back is cracking.
“You don’t have to be rough with him,” I hiss through my teeth.
“Forgive me if I don’t consider you the authority on who does and doesn’t have the right to be rough with whom,” Astor hisses back.
The lump in my throat is enough to silence me momentarily. Sweat drips down the carriage driver’s wiry sideburns. He’s trembling, though whether from fear or difficulty holding his balance in the obtuse angle Astor’s gotten him in, I’m not sure.
“I told ya, sir. Already took the last guest down the mountain an hour ago. Stopped by the local pub for a pint on my way back, then—”
“Tell us where the man lived,” says Astor. “Or else I’ll have to go back in and cut the information out of your employer.” He digs the edge of his blade into the man’s throat for emphasis.
“Don’t care much for the lady of the house to be honest,” says Druisk. “Never had the kindest things to say about me wife.”
Astor looks as if he’s about ready to give up on this world, when the carriage driver says, “Besides, I don’t know where he lived. Asked me to drop him off at the docks.”
Astor glances at me, but we’re both having the same thought. If the guest who knows how to get a Mating Mark removed went to the sprawling docks, which take up half the coastline in a city like Laraeth, there’s slim chance we’ll find him. For all we know, he boarded a ship and is out at sea by now.
Astor tosses Druisk aside, then commandeers the horse at the head of his carriage.
“I thought you said you were gonna get the information out of the lady of the house,” says the carriage driver, sounding a tad disappointed that Lady Carlisle’s throat will remain intact tonight.
“The authorities already took her in,” I explain. We watched them from the bushes as they hurried her away for questioning after they’d searched the house and failed to find us. Judging from their chatter, they’d assumed we’d run off to the docks. Which they’re most likely swarming as we speak.
Panic surges in my heart for Charlie. I’d rather she not get caught because of my folly. Before I have much time to consider her fate, Astor grabs me by the waist and tosses me onto the horse.
I land with a thud, bewilderment knocking the wind out of me more than the landing.
Astor turns back to the carriage driver, still shivering on the ground as he props himself up on his elbows.
“You won’t believe me if I swear not to tell a soul, will ya?” Druisk says.
“I’m afraid not,” says Astor, though there’s genuine regret twinging his voice.
“You don’t have to kill him,” I say, hastily. “They already know who we are, and he doesn’t know where we’re headed.”
Astor blinks, then sheathes his sword and hops up on the horse behind me without another word.
We ride halfway down the mountain in silence before I’ve hoarded up enough courage to ask, “The crew…”
“We’ll rendezvous with them in Naverough,” he says. “I told them to meet us there if we didn’t return by midnight.”
“So you knew there was a possibility that the Carlisles might force us to stay.”
“Everything’s a possibility. I just make it my aim to account for as many outcomes as I can.”
I bite my lip, trying not to feel the warmth of the captain’s chest pressed against my back as the horse takes us down the treacherous mountain path. Eventually, the quiet gets to me, and I can no longer rein in my thoughts. “And did you account for not getting the answer to your question?”
The captain doesn’t deign to answer.