Page 4 of To Sway a Bard
He spun around to retrace his steps—oh, how he wished he had a horse—only to collide with a small woman.
She fell with a cry and, tripping over his own two feet, he sprawled on top of her.
A thousand apologies rose to his tongue and then lay trapped in his mouth as he stared down at the woman. She wore simple clothes—pants, a vest, dark hair covered with a scarf—but he’d know that heart-shaped face, those bronze eyes anywhere.
Somehow, Zula had disguised herself, no doubt to prepare for the heist, and now Neo was lying on top of her.
4
ZULA
It was him, the lanky redheaded man she’d seen in town. Up close, she noticed the spray of freckles across the bridge of his nose, the clearness of his deep green eyes, and the slant of his mouth. Why was she looking at his mouth?
Slowly, the stunning man peeled himself off her. “I sincerely apologize. I wasn’t watching where I was going, and I ran you over. Are you hurt? Mother always tells me I need to watch where I’m going. Normally, I trip over my own two feet, and now I’ve tangled you up in my tomfoolery.”
Zula gawked at him, and to her annoyance, a giggle bubbled at the back of her throat. A giggle! Normally, she would have reacted fast and punchedwhoever had run her down in the throat, but she couldn’t help the slight niggle. He looked familiar. Why?
He held out his hand to help her up, and she stared at his long, slim fingers—not rough, so he didn’t do hard labor. Bright red hair stuck up from his head, rather damp from sweat, but it was a good look on him.
She gave herself a shake, determined not to be enchanted by his odd mannerisms. Too much was at stake for her to be distracted. With a frown, she took his hand.
His skin was warm, his grip stronger than expected, and when they touched, she felt a flutter in her lower belly. Despite the heat of the day, a shiver of awareness went down her spine as he helped her up, pulling so hard she almost fell into his chest. She snatched her hand away, embarrassed by her odd reaction and eager to put some distance between them.
“No, I’m not hurt,” she said, picking up the sack she’d dropped. “But you should really watch where you’re going.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, peering at her with those large eyes. “I know. I’m terribly sorry. I got turned around out here—the road’s a bit longer than I expected.”
“Ah.” Zula peered at him again, then wished she hadn’t. Her heart was doing funny things. She pointed down the path. “Keep heading that way. You’ll find a bridge and then the village. If you get lost, I’m sure someone will happen along to give you directions.”
He pressed a hand to his heart, an action that would have appeared like mockery on anyone else, but he had the most sincere expression on his freckled face. “My thanks are with you. And what about you?” His gaze lingered on her burlap sack. “What brings you to the jungle this beautiful afternoon?”
Zula wrinkled her nose, caught off guard by the question. “You’re a bit bold for asking, a complete stranger who ran into me when I was minding my own business.”
He stepped back as though she’d slapped him. “I see I’ve offended you. My deepest apologies. I’ll be on my way. I just wanted to ensure you aren’t as lost as me.”
She gave him a deadpan look. Was he flirting with her, trying to impress her? If so, he was doing a terrible job.
Pivoting on her heel, she strode away in the opposite direction of the village. Part of her wanted to break into a run, while another part wanted to go back and discover why the man looked so familiar.
A worrisome thought gnawed at her as she walked. He claimed to be lost, but as far as she was aware, only trolls lived in the jungle, because they were on the border of the kingdom.
Long ago, a peace treaty had been struck with the trolls. They kept their land on the edges of the kingdom and did not attack it, and the kingdom ensured the citizens did not bother them. So what was the redheaded man doing so close to the border?
Ever since she’d left the tavern, she’d had the sensation that she was being watched. By whom?
Thieves operated by word of mouth, relying on the loyalties of those they’d worked with before. She’d never worked with Scarred Joe’s gang, but it madesense that he’d send someone to spy on her. Had she been too hasty in sending Issa away so quickly?
After walking through the jungle, she’d decided to take Issa’s advice and change into a disguise. After stealing from the trolls, she would put on her blue-feathered hat again, to be sure everyone knew she was the thief. Her window of opportunity for completing the heist was closing fast. She had the rest of the afternoon to find the jewel, steal it, and return to the river, where a boat would be waiting. No one would expect a water escape, and she was rather proud of the ingenuity of the plan.
Shaking off the unsettling feelings from her encounter with the redhead, she shifted her focus back to the task at hand and snuck off the road into troll territory.
The troll village was easy to find. It lay atop a swell of land where a babbling waterfall flowed down into the same river she planned to escape on. A nest of trees swayed heavy with bananas, papayas, coconuts, and other fruit that grew in the jungle. At the scent of coconuts, Zula’s rush of adrenaline faded into bittersweet nostalgia with memories of scavenging the jungle with her father.
But that had been before her life transformed, and she was grateful for the shift, glad not to be stuck living a lonely life of survival in the thick of the jungle. Now she had a good life living on the outskirts of the law, adventure always at her fingertips and a popularity that lingered. Except she intended this heist to be her last.
Tucking the sack under her shirt, she climbed a vine and, imitating the mannerisms of the monkeys, swung from tree to tree, bringing herself closer to the ledge that overlooked the village. The stone-and-moss colors of the trolls moved into view and Zula perched on a tree branch, watching them through the foliage.
Trolls.
