Chapter 14 #2
True to his word, he didn’t say a word and continued on, whistling occasionally as he pulled the cart along the path.
In the cart, I dug through the baskets loaded with knitted goods, hunting for the alpaca wool.
When I got it, I searched through each skein until my fingers found a small scrap of parchment coiled around a bit of yarn.
I unraveled it, careful to keep it out of view in case Lochlan looked back, then turned it over, front and back.
It was completely blank.
With a quick glance at Lochlan’s back, I held it up to the light, but there was no watermark, nothing to indicate a message was on there.
I hastily rerolled it around the yarn and repacked it, then looked through the rest of the skeins.
There were a few more blank scraps of paper rolled around the yarn, and nothing else.
There had to be some trick I was missing. Lochlan was passing information to people, and it was surely about the pixie dust or the pixie blood. They had buyers lined up—he and Roderick and Peter talked of nothing else. Would I be able to get the information out of Lochlan?
“Lochlan?”
He turned to look over his shoulder. “What?”
“What information are you passing through the alpaca wool?”
He looked ahead again. “Now why would I tell you that when you won’t even tell me your name?”
I chewed on my tongue. “What if we exchange information? I’ll tell you something you want to know in exchange for something I want to know.”
Lochlan turned around so his back pressed against the pull handle, walking backward so he could face me. “Does that mean you’ll tell me your name?”
“It’s Marie.”
“You’re lying,” he said with a grin. “Try again.”
“Okay, you got me. My name’s really Bianca.”
“Another lie.” He shook his head. “I’m not telling you anything unless you give me real information. One more chance.”
I rolled my eyes. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe Jillian either.”
Lochlan paused so the cart rumbled to a stop. “Now that one is true. Is that why you picked Gil as a cover name? Because it sounds similar to Jillian?”
I scoffed. “Guess you aren’t infallible after all. Jillian was a lie, too.”
Lochlan narrowed his eyes. “Nope, that name was true and now you’re trying to cover it up. You really don’t like people knowing anything about you, do you?”
“No, I don’t. But since you already know something about me, you owe me information. The alpaca wool—explain.”
Lochlan shrugged. “I pass information about products to buyers. I’m sure you’ve already surmised as much.”
“How, exactly?”
“Ah-ah-ah,” Lochlan said, turning forward again so he could pull the cart over a particularly stubborn root. “We traded your name for what the alpaca wool is code for. You have to give me more information if you want the same from me. Tell me how old you actually are.”
“Fifteen.”
Lochlan stopped again, set the cart handle down, and came over to lean against the side of the cart. “Say it again.”
“Fifteen,” I repeated and Lochlan shook his head.
“Lie. Try again.”
Eel’s eyes. He must be much more astute than I’d given him credit for.
“Twenty-one, but my birthday is in a few weeks.” I hesitated, then added, “Though I could be wrong. I don’t actually like tracking my age. Your turn. How do you pass information? The papers in those skeins are blank.”
“I can write on them with various compounds that burn faster than the paper around it. The purchaser will see the message appear when it is held up to a flame but only has time to read once before the paper burns. Lemon juice works well, as do a few tree saps. It helps to pass information without risk of an outsider intercepting it.”
It was worth telling him my name and age just for that bit of information. That was pure genius.
“My turn,” he went on, and his expression turned shrewd. “Are you here to steal our pixie dust?”
“That’s not my end goal,” I answered. “I’m not opposed to stealing some if the need suits me, but I have other priorities.”
Lochlan swept his hair out of his face. “You were actually telling the truth that time. If you aren’t here for that, then why are you here?”
I steeled myself. This was an awful risk I was taking. He had kept my secret for a few days already, and I only needed a little more information to find my family. Once I got that, it wouldn’t matter what I’d told Lochlan. I’d already be across the country.
“You can tell me,” Lochlan prompted. “You must be here for a reason; otherwise, you wouldn’t be hanging around. I gave you every opportunity to leave. I even tried to dump you at the hospital to save you from a life of crime when I thought you were a boy. You want something from us. What is it?”
Something tight and aching in my chest loosened.
Even since that day in the hospital, I’d thought Lochlan framed me because I was a convenient scapegoat, but instead he’d been trying to push me away from the darkness that he had to live with daily.
It should’ve infuriated me that he’d manipulated me at all, and yet all I could think about was the dangerous, terrifying realization that no one had ever cared enough to try and save me before.
“Well?” Lochlan pressed. “What is it you want from us?”
I held my breath then said in a rush, “Your father was involved in slave trade in past years. Does he keep track of the people he’s sold in the past?”
“Ah, so that’s it,” Lochlan said. “Did he sell someone you know?”
“You didn’t answer my question. And we’ll never get to market if you continually stop to talk.”
Lochlan went back to pull on the cart. “Yes, he’s done slave trade, but hasn’t for several years. It became less profitable once Ebora’s government was overthrown since they were the largest buyer. I don’t remember a lot of it. I was pretty young when he was involved in those things.”
“There are many things I wish I could forget,” I said softly, then raised my voice. “But you still didn’t answer my question. Does he keep records?”
“Yes. There are records in our vault, but we rarely open it.”
I’d opened my mouth, ready to ask, and Lochlan cut me off. “I won’t divulge where it is, but I might be persuaded to get you some information.”
“Persuaded how?” I asked cautiously. What exactly was he thinking I would do to convince him to divulge information?
“I’m currently undecided. But we’ll have to finish the conversation later. We’re almost there.”
He nodded at the thinning line of trees and the sunshine spilling onto the road ahead.
“I’m walking the rest of the way,” I insisted. I would not risk anyone else seeing me ride in the cart like a pouting toddler, incapable of walking long stretches on their own.
This time, Lochlan didn’t protest but held out a hand to help me down.
I considered ignoring it and jumping down, but I knew that doing so would likely make my side split open all over again, so I accepted his hand and my stomach immediately exploded with butterflies.
I wouldn’t be able to touch him for much longer without breaking out in an active sweat.
When I was on the ground, I tried to pull away, but Lochlan didn’t let go of my hand. He nodded at my injury. “Need me to check that before we get any farther?”
“Does that count as your next question?”
“Only if you say yes.”
Oh shoals, I’d have to lift my shirt and he would touch me again.
My face immediately felt hotter and, far from wanting to expose my injury, I wanted to turn tail and run.
Stop being preposterous, I scolded myself.
He didn’t mean anything by it. He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t developing an infection, that was all.
It wasn’t like he wanted to touch me. The heat in my face redoubled.
“Just be quick.” Before I could overthink anything else, I lifted my shirt just enough so he could kneel and examine the cut traced up my side.
His hands hovered for a moment then touched lightly as he gently probed my wound.
I sucked in a breath and stared up at the sky, trying to ignore how it felt to have a man running his hand along my waist. As the cool air brushed my skin next to his warm hands, I felt the absurd desire to drop my shirt and run away, never to return.
This was insane. I’d fought men larger than Lochlan in the past and I’d never had such feelings or even flinched when touching them, or when they put their hands on me. And yet this time, my pulse was racing like I was about to be executed.
“Does it hurt?” he asked softly, pressing beside the stitches.
“Not too bad,” I informed the clouds above. If I looked at him right now, I might actually erupt into flames and be incinerated on the spot.
Lochlan was still kneeling so his head was level with my navel. He moved his hand so it gravitated toward my back, and my resolve broke.
“That’s enough,” I told him, sharper than I intended, as I dropped my shirt and stepped away.
“You seem to be healing quickly,” Lochlan reported as he stood and brushed off his pants. “Usually it would take longer.”
“I heal fast,” I boasted. “You should feel honored. I’ve never been to a doctor before, other than that fake hospital visit, and you know I didn’t let the doctor look at me.”
“What did you do when you were sick? Everyone gets ill from time to time.” He shot me a shrewd look. “And I have a sneaking suspicion that you get injured more than most young women.”
“Hey, you said you wouldn’t mention that on the way to market,” I reminded him. “And I always took care of myself. If it ever got really bad, I would sneak into libraries and look up treatments in medical books.”
“So you can read. Peter was insistent that you didn’t know how when I asked him about you.”
I stiffened. Great. I’d blown yet another of my covers with Lochlan. And he was asking Peter about me? Because he was interested in me or because he viewed me as a threat?
“No, I…I…”
“You’re about to try and lie again. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything as long as you don’t tell anyone else what I told you. Deal?” He held out his hand.
I took it, hoping against hope that my palm wasn’t too sweaty. “Deal.”