Page 22 of A Fate Unwoven
The smuggler was already moving toward a paneled wall at the end of the hallway, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the stone walls, giving Lena a few more seconds to compose herself. Being trapped in this house with a stranger wasn’t exactly her ideal scenario, but she’d be damned if she let her anxieties ruin her only chance of escaping her fate.
Casimir paused for a brief second, looking over his shoulder at her as ifhewas the one who had reason to be cautious here. And then, seemingly deciding she wasn’t about to stab him from behind, the smuggler pressed his hand against the wall andpushed.
The wooden wall slid sideways, and Casimir didn’t wait before ducking into the darkened space, leaving Lena with little choice but to follow after him. Keeping her hand close to the hilt of her dagger, the first word that came to Lena’s mind as she stepped into the hidden room wascluttered.Every space was filled with leather tomes or rolled-up pieces of parchment. At one end, a wooden desk littered with scraps of parchment and a half-empty glass of golden liquid took up most of the space. The wall behind it was lined with shelves of dozens of glass vials filled with various liquids.
Without looking back at her, Casimir gestured toward a small, fur-covered bench beneath a boarded-up window, his hands already riffling through the papers on his desk. “Take a seat.”
Lena didn’t move. She kept close to the door, giving herself the space to flee if Casimir turned out to be a fraud.
“How did you know I was looking for you?” The question had been gnawing at her since they’d left the alleyway.
The smuggler’s lips twitched. “I happen to spend a lot of time at the Bear.”
Panic settled in Lena’s chest. “You overheard me?” she asked, her mind already replaying the moment.
She couldn’t remember seeing the Raven back in the tavern, but it had been so busy. Had anyone else overheard her? And if they had, didthey know enough about the infamous Raven to realize what she’d truly been asking?
The room suddenly felt too small. The walls too close. Lena tried to focus on her breathing, but the familiar urge to run, to escape, was making each breath harder than the last.
“I have an agreement with the owner, Orva. She told me you were looking for me. Don’t worry,” he added, clearly sensing her growing panic. “She can be trusted.”
Lena nodded. The smuggler’s threads were already starting to fade back into the world, a web of shimmering silver weaving itself before her very eyes. Lena’s hands curled into tight fists at her side.Go away.
And then that voice, stronger now than it had been before—
Why do you fight who you are?it asked, genuine curiosity lacing the words.When it is who you were always meant to become?
No. This isn’t who she was. Fate or no fate, she would not—
“Hey.” The smuggler was standing before her, his brows drawn together in a way that made him look surprisingly young. “Are you alright?”
The concern in his voice, more genuine than she’d expected, brought Lena back to herself. She gave a sharp nod. “I’m fine.”
Her attention shifted from the smuggler and his threads to the paper in his hands. To the tomes and maps cluttering the small wooden room. Like the stories she kept in her heart, they were all tools of a trade that painted a target on his back. Even with the hidden room, having them in his house like this was a huge risk.
She swallowed the urge to tell him to be more careful and instead asked, “So, can you help get me out of here?”
“Of course I can,” he said, leaning casually against his desk. “The question is whether you canaffordmy help.”
Lena kept her expression blank, her stance relaxed, hoping he hadn’t already realized just how desperate for his help she was. Her fingers brushed against the lining of her coat, catching on the handfulof coins she had left. There was little need for silver in the Wilds, where the people traded in favors and skill, but Lena always made sure she had at leastsomemarks in her pocket.
She looked at the map above his desk, her throat tightening at the sight of it. At the promise it held. “And what, exactly, does your ‘help’ encompass?” She wasn’t agreeing to anything until she knew what she was getting.
Casimir’s eyes glistened. “Smart. I can offer you safe passage to the Queendom of Verlond and papers of citizenship once you arrive. It’s one of the few lands that has not yet been conquered by the Ehmars, so whatever crime they’ve accused you of, you should be safe from them there.”
“What makes you think they’ve accused me of anything?” she asked, unable to keep the bite from her voice.
“You wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t. The people who seek me out are either desperate or reckless, and you don’t seem the reckless type.”
“And you don’t seem to care that you’re helping criminals.”
Again, that infuriating half smirk. “Let’s just say the Ehmars’ definition of criminal …differsfrom my own.” He leaned back against his desk once more, arms folding over his chest, head tilting as he watched her.
Verlond. She’d heard whispers of the southern queendom before, a free land where the Goddess Næbya’s powers were at their weakest due to lack of worship. If the rumors were true, then it would be the perfect place for her to hide.
“How much?”
“Thirty marks.”
