She sneers. “All of the above. And so is he,” she says, gesturing to Soren who slides another couple of dukhs into his pile. “You have to be, living here.”
“Then the answer to your question what do I want from him? Courage.” But not for myself. I have plenty of that. For him to see this through. He’s familiar with the Northlands whereas I am not. I only hope that he’ll help and not hinder.
A smile lifts her darkened cheeks. “I’m Britta by the way,” she says.
“I’m Kiki. Nice to meet you. I think.”
When both of Soren’s fists are full of coins, he gets up and scans the room. His eyes land on me. He smiles a rare smile as though waking from a happy dream, before glancing at Britta and grimacing.
He nods to the players and then strides over. Britta drinks him in with her eyes and then whispers something in his ear.
He snarls.
She crows a laugh before strutting away with a friendly wave at me.
My stomach tumbles.
“The tide is almost low. Let’s go,” Soren says.
We thank Trotter and a few of the others. I catch them whisper, “Light the night,” before we step bravely into the Hallowtide festivities.
The air is thick with smoke from the bonfire. Cheering and chanting for the king reverberates off the water, ricochets between the buildings, and fills my ears with dread. “Why do they all just go along with it?”
“Not all,” Soren replies with a wink like Trotter’s. “You met Britta.”
“She’s—”
“As cold as iron and as cunning as a fox,” he answers for me. “A fox shifter, in fact. Don’t tell anyone.”
“You know each other well?”
“We did.”
“She gave you a look,” I say carefully.
“Murder face, which I wouldn’t put beyond her.”
“She’s on your side then—?” I ask, reading into what might be a lover’s quarrel.
He grunts. “If by my side you mean she’d defend me with one hand and run a blade through me with the other, then yes.”
“Did you love each other?” I ask boldly this time, practically choking on the question that bolted from my lips without permission.
He trips over a rut in the road and catches himself. “Full of questions, tonight, huh? No, we didn’t or if we did, not enough.”
“She doesn’t seem superstitious, but she had ashes on her cheeks.”
“She’s probably up to no good, like us.” He winks.
I melt a little bit inside and the taunt of jealousy dissipates.
Soren ducks into a shop and returns with a glass bottle filled with golden liquid. “I’m a few dukhs lighter, but—” He takes a swig, wipes his mouth, and passes it to me. “I hope it’s worth it.”
It smells like the drink Britta offered me—like golden grain baking in the sun, but then when I swallow, my throat burns.
“What is this?” I ask, spitting it out and returning the bottle.
“Cider. Our solution if we run into trouble.”
We skulk along the eastern wall like Nadya instructed, sticking to the shadows. Footfalls pound above as the guards patrol. My pulse races, but my steps are as sure as Soren’s are thanks to my years of karate practice. When we reach the opening in the wall, we slip inside and a nasty odor makes my stomach pinch. I cover my mouth to stop from retching.
Soren whispers, “Wastewater. You don’t suppose Nadya could have seen another way in for us?” His voice echoes hauntingly through the tunnel as we chase it along the shallow, slimy ground.
“What did you mean when you said to Nadya that you only know the way out of Bearsden?”
His jaw tenses. “I, uh, once enlisted in the guard. Thought I could overthrow the king from the inside out. Couldn’t hack it. Not proud of it. Let’s forget it.”
“Then you know your way around?”
“Somewhat. More importantly, I know a thing or two about the guards. Strengths, weaknesses, that kind of thing.” His voice falls into silence as we continue.
When we reach the opening at the end of the tunnel, Soren abruptly bars my progress with his arm.
I lean over to see that the wall drops steeply and into the waves crashing against sharp rocks below.
He glances up at the sheer face of the wall. The space between where we are and the walkway at the top is about as tall as he is. He leans farther out and then ducks back inside, exhaling. “Really? She couldn’t have found another way?”
“I don’t suppose the patrol would invite us in if we knocked on the front door.”
He stifles a laugh and leans out of the opening for a few seconds, surveying the situation. “We’re in luck. There’s a groove in the wall. About an arm’s length up. Not afraid of heights are you?” he asks.
I shake my head, listening for the patrols. “Not afraid of anything, remember? My mother told me never to fear anything...except fear. She said fear is the only thing that could stop me and not the thing I was afraid of.”
“Wise woman, but I’m afraid,” he says. “It keeps me on my toes.” However, his legs soon disappear, and I hear the slap of his boots on the stone walkway above.
I follow and have to stretch to reach the groove he mentioned. From the top, he holds his hand out, and I vault over the side.
This part of the wall connects the haunches of two stone buildings adjacent to the base of the castle, but it’s around the backside and not visible from town. Torches burn along the wall, keeping away the demons and lighting our way.
“Nadya said to take a right,” he says.
“Three doors then two,” I say, repeating her directions.
The low murmur of voices accompanies the approach of heavy footsteps. Without hesitating, Soren and I hasten to hide,
