Dear gods, if Jase finds out that they set even one of those fires—
“Did you burn a house?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“A woodpile, Kazi. And a wagon of hay. Why are you so jumpy?”
“Because the Ballengers are jumpy and determined to find who is attacking the city. I don’t want you mixed up in that battle.” I thought about the severed ears. “They wouldn’t understand, and it could get ugly.”
“No one knows we’re here.”
Yet. Jase memorized details. Their changed clothes and hats wouldn’t hide them for long. They needed something more permanent to protect them. They needed Jase’s word.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JASE
“Where is she?”
My back had only been turned for seconds. She’d been right next to me. Drake and Tiago jumped, embarrassment flooding their faces, their eyes shooting across the plaza, down avenues, wondering how she could have disappeared so fast.
She was gone.
I didn’t think someone could have taken her. She was gone because she wanted to be.
I scanned the plaza, looking for Yursan, and spotted him outside the pub. He shrugged. He had lost her too. But there was no sign of Garvin—which was a good omen. We moved to the center of the plaza, watching for him, waiting.
And then a whistle pealed out.
His signal.
* * *
“Hello, Kazi.”
She was walking on the boardwalk in front of the apothecary when I intercepted her. “Where’d you rush off to?”
Her steps faltered, then stopped. “Me?” she answered innocently. “I didn’t rush anywhere. Just taking in the sights. I guess I must have wandered off.”
“Meeting friends?”
She whirled and saw her cohorts at the end of the walk. Mason held the one with long red braids by the arm. Samuel and Aram stood on either side of the other one. The rest of our crew stood behind them, including Garvin, who had done his job well. There would be no more slipping away. Her fellow soldiers had been here the whole time, and I was certain Kazi knew it.
She looked back at me, her eyes narrowing to slits. Her tongue slid slowly over her teeth, and then she walked toward me. “Look here, Jase,” she said, patting the wall. “The place of our first meeting. I bet this is no accident, is it?”
I looked at the apothecary sign over our heads, surprised. “Actually, it is.”
She stepped closer and her hands slid upward around my neck, her face drawing near, her lips inches from mine. It was an unusual moment for an embrace. I wasn’t expecting it, but I wasn’t opposed to it either. My arms slid around her waist and I pulled her closer.
Her cheek touched mine. “Think again,” she whispered into my ear. “This is no accident. I led you here. This is a grand moment I’m offering you—if you do the right thing. Imagine, the mouthy Rahtan captivated by your charm and leadership while everyone watches—playing with your hair, laughing, smiling, maybe even kissing you. What a perfect way to erase the shocking image of me slamming you up against this very wall and holding a knife to your throat. Everyone would have a new image to remember and whisper about. It would cement your claim that I, and by proxy, the queen, am on your side.”
She smiled, her fingers playing with my hair as she had just described, playfully pulling a strand over my eye. “Release them,” she ordered quietly. “Now.”
No doubt everyone who was watching was imagining a very different conversation playing out behind our whispers. “Keep your word and our agreement,” she said, “and acknowledge Wren and Synové as guests of the Ballengers, free to come and go as they please. In fact, they prefer to stay here in town. I’m sure you can put them up at one of your inns. Free of charge. No questions asked. And they keep their weapons.”
“And if I don’t?”
“The alternative is I slam you up against this wall again and make the image of the Patrei on his knees permanent.” She shrugged. “I imagine that would only add to your troubles. It might even be written in your history books. The Fall of the Ballengers.”
“So this is another one of your blackmailing schemes?”