Page 52 of Red Dragon
“My mom is very uncomfortable and can’t work a lot right now.” The girl held up the bags. “I’ll give you all these cookies if you can heal her.”
“We’re supposed tosellthose,” the boy whispered.
“If mom can work again, we won’t need the money from them. You can go back toeatingwhat we make.”
The boy opened his mouth, like he might object, but maybe the logic suited him.
Syla smiled faintly, recognizing a fellow schemer in the girl. “I can take a look at her if she’s near?”
“Your Highness,” Fel objected. “We’ve got a captain to meet. And you can’t go to abrothel.”
Until that comment, Syla hadn’t fully put the pieces together about what the girl’s mother did, but she realized his guess was probably correct.
“It’s very close.” The girl thrust the bags at Syla.
“You don’t have to give me your cookies,” Syla said, though the scents of cinnamon and sugar reached her nose, and she wondered if dragons liked sweets. Probably not, but… “Well, maybe one bag. They smell delicious.”
“Here. Take them. Please. My mother is just down that alley.”
“Alley,” Fel grumbled distastefully.
Syla followed the girl, who left her brother to man the sale of their baked goods. After his sister’s back was turned, the boy slid a cookie out of a bag and chomped on it. Syla had a feeling she was the more responsible kid in the family.
“This isn’t a good idea.” Fel squinted at a pair of enforcers a block away.
On patrol, they didn’t turn up this street, instead continuing through the intersection along the waterfront. Even so, Syla noted their presence. Normally, she would be glad that order had been restored to the city, but as the day grew brighter, she worried about escaping. If a street urchin had recognized her, the enforcers would too. A carriage with eight horses might have been a good idea, though that also would have drawn attention.
“Next time you’re going to sneak out of the city,” Teyla said, walking at her side, “you should grab a cloak with a big hood that can hide your whole head. That’s what adventurers in the Kingsman’s Tales always wear.”
“It’s the end of summer. You don’t think cloaks and hoods would be conspicuous?”
The girl led them down an alley so narrow that Fel’s shoulders brushed the sides, then through a side door for a building that had been marked as Sailor Services out front.
“Not as conspicuous as you with your auburn locks, regal air, and hand glowing moon-silver.” Teyla eyed Syla’s birthmark instead of her locks or regalness. “Mine doesn’t glow. Is thatnormal?”
“Usually only when I use my magic.” Syla glanced at her hand, surprised it hadn’t stopped glowing since the library.
“Odd.”
“I do seem to be, yes.”
They stepped into a narrow hall, thin rugs on wooden floors and the air smelling of perfume and incense. Thumps and groans came from behind a door they passed.
Fel quickened his pace, trying to hurry the girl along while glancing back at Syla, as if her sensibilities would be mortally offended by being in such a place. She thought about mentioning that she’d traveled to brothels before to heal people—not everyone could make it to the temple—but the girl opened another door off the hall.
Gripping his mace, Fel strode in after her and looked around, lifting a hand to keep Syla back as he checked the space.
“I doubt there are enemies lurking in here,” Syla murmured to him, then jumped when a man buckling blue uniform trousers hurried out past them. “I could be wrong,” she added.
Apparently, the girl’s mom wasn’t taking off completely from work.
Head down, the soldier didn’t look at them and hopefully didn’t recognize Syla.
“Hylina,” came a woman’s startled voice from the bed. “You’re supposed to be selling cookies, not bringing me clients. Or, uhm, are you…” She’d been looking at Fel, but her gaze shifted to Syla, and her mouth dangled open in shock.
“See, she recognizes you,” Teyla whispered from the doorway. “You need a cloak.”
“I brought a healer, Mom,” the girl said.
