Page 6 of Veiled in Stars and Silver
The man’s eyes gleamed, and his fingers closed around the coin. “There’s a man. He cast the spell on my clothes and the tent. Told me he’d pay me handsomely if I brought him the knife with the skull and jeweledhilt that belonged to the girl in the cloak seeking fairy dust.”
“That’s oddly specific.” My mind tried to pin down what it could mean but came up empty. “Describe how this man looked.”
“Oh, he was a fine gentleman. Very rich. Ancient. Older than me. Nice clothes. He had a long scar running over his face…” His head tilted in consideration. “Although, he could have used magic to conceal his appearance.”
Dammit. He was right.
“I don’t suppose he gave you a name?”
“Sorry, miss. These gentlemen making backroom deals like to be discreet.”
“Fine. Where were you supposed to meet him?”
“Damned if I know. He always found me, miss. Reckoned he would again.”
“Tell your buyer that if he wants this dagger, he can come get it from me himself.” I jabbed a finger at the man. “And you think twice before trying to cheat me again.”
He gave me a toothy grin. “Of course, miss. I quite enjoy my ears where they are.”
I walked down the London streets in defeat. I’d retrieved my hat and the last throwing knife before starting the walk home. The cold air nipped at me. Though the pavement was bare, I expected the penultimate sign of winter would show its face soon. I rubbed my aching fingers, wishing I hadn’t forgotten to put on gloves.
My thoughts churned with curiosity. Who was the mysterious man who wanted my dagger? And how did he know I was searching for fairy dust?
I sucked in a deep breath, grateful I’d chosen not to wear a corset, and even more grateful, as I walked past men and women in their finery, that my cloak hid that fact. The constricting apparel forced my body into an unnatural S shape that restricted my movement and made me feel lightheaded.
When I reached the wall that surrounded my backyard, I took out two throwing knives and stuck them into the tiny holes that I’d dug into the grout between the bricks. My uncle had moved into my childhood home almost seven years ago, not long after I had lost everything. If he found me scaling a wall, he’d skin me alive.
I hiked my skirts up to my knees before scrambling to the top and dropping into the yard. I refused to glance at the spot where Nana’s old kennel used to sit, avoiding the memory of my brother’s joyful shouts echoing in the yard as Nana barked and chased them. It was a recollection from another time. One I tried not to think too much on.
I came to the back wall of my home and again utilized my knives to leverage myself up to the third story, climbing over the grate and ducking through the open window into the room that used to belong to my brothers. Stepping into its darkened confines, I stepped past my brothers’ empty beds, pulling on the strings of my cloak. Even after all this time, I hadn’t changed a thing, only moved my bed back in.
The hairs on my neck stood on end. I sensed someone in my room. My mind flashed to the night Hook had stolen my brothers. My muscles tensed. A dark figure lounged on my bed. My heart slammed in my chest as I grasped a throwing knife in my hand, ready to throw.
Chapter 2
Wendy
“Did you have an enjoyable night out?” The voice that sounded from the shadows was familiar, yet it sent a shiver down my spine.
Uncle Reuben. He was home early from whatever social gathering he’d engaged in. I ground my teeth, wishing it was Hook, a burglar, or even Meaty Hands from the alley. Someone I could sink my blade into.
Or at least someone who fought fair.
“Good evening, Uncle. I was feeling restless. Went for a little stroll.”
“Did you now?” He rose from the mattress. His every move set me on edge. With the lithe movement of a predator, he stepped over to the lantern next to John’s bed and lit it. The reflection of the light highlighted his square jaw and stone-hard eyes. “Open your cloak.”
He approached as I reluctantly did as he bid me.
“Now why would a young lady feel safe enough to go on an evening stroll unaccompanied, and yet need to bring every single one of her throwing knives?”
I lifted my chin. “That is why I felt safe. You know you taught me well.”
His gaze fell to the jeweled dagger at my waist. He reached and pulled it from its sheath. I lifted a hand, wanting to stop him, but caught myself, forcing it back to my side.
But not before Uncle noticed.
The blade glinted darkly as he examined it. “And what have I taught you about lying to me?” he asked.
