Page 78 of Degradation

His words and the pain cut through to the sensible part of my thoughts.

“Cease,” I begged. “I am calmer now. I promise.”

Eadric immediately righted me then hugged me.

“You can still bite me if you’d like.”

I shook my head and hugged him in return.

“Unbelievable,” Daemon whispered. “We would have broken noses if we spanked her like that.”

Eadric chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “Thank you for not breaking my nose, Sparrow. I am a bit disappointed you didn’t bite me in the arse. I saw the mark it left on Brandle and want one of my own.”

I snorted and pulled away from him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugged and darted in for a quick kiss.

“Will you share your plan? Do you need a fellow miscreant to accompany you? I’ve been told I’m quite beggar-like in my old clothes.”

I smoothed my hand over his handsomely tailored coat and slipped my hand inside to feel his fine linen shirt.

“The clothes don’t make the man,” I said. “It’s his heart.”

He pressed his hand over mine and kissed me more passionately. I was the one to step back from the distraction.

“Since I know that none of you wants me to go out alone, I will accept one person to accompany me. The choice is yours.”

An hour later, Garron and I slipped out of the servants’ door. With a hat pulled low over my brow and my hair tucked into it, I passed well enough for a man.

We weaved our way through the streets, once again avoiding the increased number of patrols. The route we chose didn’t matter, though, since I meant to walk every street eventually.

“What are we looking for,” Garron asked, noticing that we’d backtracked.

“A sense of wrongness like I felt when we turned onto Pogwid’s street.”

It took several hours before I found what I was looking for. The ever-present tingle of warning under my skin intensified when we turned down a street lined with well-kept homes.

A woman wove cloth in her side yard, humming to herself. A man sat on his front step and carved something. An older child turned the soil in a narrow strip beside her home.

And none of it was real.

I didn’t know how I knew it since I could feel what they felt as they worked and saw the shadows they cast in the midday sun; I simply knew.

Stopping in front of the man, I watched him look up at me.

“Need something?” he asked gruffly.

“I do,” I said. “Desperately.”

He tilted his head, his expression full of suspicion.

“Well, speak already, boy. What do you need?”

I leaned in and whispered, “Your help to kill the queen.”

The man swore and stood up abruptly, slamming his door in my face.

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