Page 2 of A Court of Ash and Midnight
A few minutes later she drops a bowl of something brown and viscous onto the table and walks off without a word. It doesn’t look like much, but it smells good, at least. I’m lifting my first spoonful to my mouth when someone steps out of the kitchen behind me and slides into my booth across the table from me. My hand goes to one of my daggers, but I relax a moment later.
“Not tonight, Jaryd,” I say.
“You haven’t even heard what I have to say.” He grins at me, all perfect teeth, brown curly hair, and sparkling blue eyes.
“That’s the point.” I narrow my eyes as I resolutely place my spoon in my mouth.
He pouts his pretty lips. “Bad day?”
“No worse than any other.” I sigh. I may have to find another place to get dinner. I never should have slept with the cook at my favorite restaurant.
“You clearly need a distraction to cheer you up. I can take a break, and we can go out back…” He trails off, reaching across the table and tracing a finger up my forearm.
I suppress a shiver. Being on the run for eight years makes for a lonely existence. Most of the time it doesn’t bother me much. I make a point to stay busy. But once in a while, I crave human touch.
Tonight, however, is not one of those times.
“I think I’ve made myself clear.” I fix him with a pointed gaze and then plunk a piece of bread into my stew.
“Oh, come on Embyr…”
I’m saved by a bellow from the kitchen. Jaryd’s eyes widen. “Another time, then.” He gets up in a hurry and dashes back tohis station, where he gets a thorough tongue-lashing I find more than a bit satisfying.
A few minutes later my dinner is gone. I leave a couple dull bronzetervanzon the table and slip back out into the night. Instantly, I feel more at ease. That salt-scent hits me again, and the smell of fish from the docks, far less pleasant. Overhead, a night hawk cries in the distance. Clouds roll slowly across the black sky, and something about the shape of them jogs my memory. Just as quickly, the sensation escapes, and the momentary surge of familiarity is replaced with the usual frustration. I don’t know why the clouds remind me of something, but they do. It’s the most infuriating feeling, like an itch between your shoulder blades barely out of reach.
What were the clouds like,thatnight? When it all started, eight years ago?
I try to remember, and I can’t.
I tumble down into my thoughts, spinning through my past, and it’s another half mile later that I realize I’ve been walking nearly in a trance, completely unaware of my surroundings.
The hair on my forearms prickles beneath my cloak, and my throat tightens. Something had pulled me back into the present moment, something in the here and now. Some instinct, or perhaps the sound of a footstep or a strange scent. I pause for a moment, listening. I hear nothing but wagon wheels one street over and a soft breeze cutting between the stone and thatch-covered buildings around me.
It’s quite possible I’m being paranoid.
After all, I hadn’t survived twenty-two years for no reason.
Hearing nothing, I stride forward again. At the next intersection, I turn left, moving toward the busier main street. I walk down the next block, passing only a beggar lying next to a dilapidated wagon, and two cats eating something in one of the gutters. It’s mostly dark here, the lanterns along the street fewand far between. Up ahead, I see wagons passing back and forth, even though it’s getting on in the evening, and a few riders on horseback. When I reach the main street, I cast a furtive look behind me as I turn the corner. Nothing.
The street I now travel along has much better light, a soft golden glow that falls across the cobblestones. There are more businesses and homes along this street, too, pockets of light from within banishing the shadows. A woman dumps a pot of dirty dish water onto the sidewalk right in front of me, sneering as I let out a curse and sidestep around it. I walk another half a block and then cross the street, darting in between the light traffic. My gaze darts back to the side road I’d just come from.
Two men are coming around the corner, their gazes sweeping back and forth, clearly looking for someone.
They’re dressed as commoners, at least to anyone who isn’t paying attention. But I catch the gleam of a sword hilt under the cloak of one, and the other has daggers peeking out from the tops of his boots. The clasps on their cloaks are far finer than any commoner could afford, polished silver in a pattern wrought to look like flames. It’s also in the way they walk, the way they carry themselves. These men trade in violence.
And they’re following me.
Chapter Two
Acurse rolls offmy tongue and adrenaline spikes through my veins. I should have moved on sooner. I knew I’d been in Kyrn for too long, but being on the run for this long was exhausting. Clearly, it’d made me too complacent.
I hop up on one of the passing wagons, sitting on the open back of it. Later I can chastise myself further. Right now, I need to focus on getting out of this city in one piece.
I drop my eyes to the cobblestones passing beneath me and force myself to take several deep breaths. Staring at my pursuers is a sure way to draw their attention. Some instinct had alerted me to their presence in the first place, that feeling of someone’s eyes resting on me. And I don’t want them to use that same instinct to spot me.
No doubt they’ve already been to the forge and to the barn, so I can’t go back to either place. If I’m lucky, this wagon will head out of town, and I can catch a free ride for a while. It’s piled highwith bags of flour, so it’s possible the driver won’t notice me. I chance a quick glance back the way I’d come, and it doesn’t seem the two men have noticed, either.
But I’ve never been very lucky.
