“Done,” Zinc said.
The men and women around them returned to their tables.
Rye relaxed his shoulders. “Let’s go,” he said to Tahki.
Tahki turned, happy to leave. Before they made it outside, Zinc called, “Better stay close to that bodyguard of yours, kid.” Tahki glanced back. Zinc grinned at him. “He ain’t always gonna be around.”
Rye grabbed Tahki’s wrist and hurried him along. They made it outside, through the tunnels, and back to the gingoat before any words were exchanged.
“I didn’t think he’d actually agree,” Rye said.
“Then why’d you threaten him?”
He faced Tahki. “Because I couldn’t let him get away with what he did to you.”
Tahki felt himself blush and pretended to look at the sky. “Why do you think Zinc gave up without a fight?”
“I guess he realized Dyraien would find out and didn’t want the trouble,” Rye said.
Again, something didn’t feel right. Though he could have easily overpowered them, Zinc seemed to fear Rye. Or maybe it hadn’t been Rye who’d spooked him. Maybe it had something to do with how Dyraien would react if anything happened to Rye. But Tahki was too tired to think about it.
“Rye?”
“What?”
Tahki rubbed his wrist. “Thank you.”
Rye shrugged. “It felt good to take Zinc down a peg.”
“I don’t mean only with Zinc,” Tahki said. “Thank you for taking the fall for my design error. For getting me on the right path with my architecture. For watching out for me.” It might be the painkillers, but his words, for the first time, sounded sincere.
This time it was Rye who blushed. He turned stiffly away. “We should get back to the castle before we’re missed.”
Tahki nodded. “Agreed.”
Chapter 10
TWO DAYS had passed since his encounter with Zinc, and this morning was the first morning he hadn’t needed to take painkillers. His head still hurt, but he decided he could tolerate the pain if it meant keeping a clear mind. Dyraien had asked about his bruises, and Tahki had told him a gingoat had kicked him. The prince offered to put the animal down, but Tahki begged him not to. Tahki had also told Gale he’d filled the order for her. He lied and said everything went fine, but she whacked him on the head with a wooden spoon anyway and said not to do her any favors. The paper for Sornjia’s documents still hadn’t come, and Gale reordered it. Tahki hadn’t told her about Dyraien’s visit, a risky choice, but Sornjia said he’d be extra cautious in case he stopped by again.
A few things still bothered Tahki about the incident in Edgewater. First, Gale claimed she’d never dealt with Zinc before, but Dyraien claimed she had, so one of them was lying. Second, when Gale dropped off lunch yesterday afternoon, Dyraien appeared agitated around her. Third, Rye told Dyraien Zinc tried to steal their money. He gave him a different version of the story so as not to condemn Tahki or Gale but made certain to emphasize the scam. Dyraien only shrugged and told him that that was the risk of hiring criminals. Tahki had expected him to be outraged, not indifferent.
Although these things troubled him, something good had come of the Zinc incident: his friendship with Rye. They hadn’t spoken much the last two days, but every few hours Rye would happen by his room and glance in to see if his injuries were healing. This morning, Tahki had woken up extra early to help Rye lunge the gingoats, a task he hadn’t enjoyed, but he liked spending more time with Rye.
He drew busily now at his desk, ideas popping into his head left and right. Though none of his designs were completed, a few of them showed potential.
Tahki leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms, careful not to strain too hard, when he heard a loud thump a few rooms down. He sat still in his chair and listened. Two more thumps sounded. The walls rang lightly from the vibration. The castle had been unusually quiet this morning. Not even the queen wailed.
Three more thuds knocked against the wall, and this time he followed the sound to the taxidermy room. The door was closed. He heard footsteps inside. Maybe Dyraien had brought his mother to pet the animals.
Something inside hit the floor with a thunk. Tahki knocked. “Dyraien?” No one answered. He pushed the handle slowly and slid his body through the gap in the door. A plume of dust rose among the animal heads and bodies. He looked around the room until his eyes settled on the great black cat in the center. Someone had pushed her over. The wind might have tipped her, but the windows were shut, and she looked too heavy to be brought down by a draft.
He stared at the great black beast. She looked so foreign here, contained in this small room. He wondered where she’d been caught, where the bullet had pierced her, taking away her last breath, and then he thought of Sornjia. His brother always sympathized with animals, even dead ones. One time he tried to save a few goats from the meat markets, but their father made him return them. Sornjia fasted and meditated for three days straight after that, and when he emerged, he said he understood that everyone must make their own choices in life, and he wouldn’t interfere with the life of a shepherd again. Tahki hadn’t understood what Sornjia meant at the time, but now he knew it was about choices. Sornjia chose not to eat or harm animals, but he couldn’t make that choice for someone else.
Tahki started to leave the room, but the idea of leaving the cat on the ground seemed wrong somehow. He reached down to try to tilt her upright, but as he did, the faintest grumble rolled out from inside her throat.
He froze.
The cat lay still. He’d probably imagined it and reached for
