Chapter 15
The market looked just the same as usual. Shortly after we set up, Auntie Mable came by and Lochlan immediately helped her sit to rest her feet. She fell asleep shortly after, and Lochlan didn’t move a muscle for more than an hour as he stood to shield Mable from the sun’s rays.
“You’re going to burn your neck,” I told him quietly. If only he was easier to ignore. Or hate. But then he had to do things like take care of an old woman, and I kept noticing him in the most distracting and obnoxious way.
He grinned. “Hand over one of those scarves. I’ll use the opportunity to display some merchandise.”
When I handed it to him, he wrapped it around his neck and continued to stand so he could cast a shadow over Mable’s sleeping form. Her hands were clasped neatly over her middle and she breathed in and out, slowly and deeply.
“Excuse me, I’m here for some alpaca wool,” a man said from the other side of the table.
After an approving nod from Lochlan, I dug through the basket and handed over one of the skeins that had a concealed paper wrapped around one of the interior strands of yarn.
“Thanks, son,” he said, handing me a folded envelope in return. It was a thick paper with a large, ruby-red wax seal pressed over the envelope’s flap. The man left with the wool tucked under his arm.
I held the envelope out to Lochlan, who carefully took it and tucked it into his vest pocket without moving so much that his shadow left Mable’s face.
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me about that,” I told him.
“Not right now,” he answered. “Though if you continue to answer some of my questions, I might be coerced into disclosing more information.”
“I don’t think you’d be a very good spy,” I told him with a smile. “You seem very easily coerced.”
“Don’t tell Roderick,” he said, then paused and added, “Though it wouldn’t really matter much if you did tell him. He’s always been disappointed with me.”
“Why’s that?” When he looked at me, I raised my eyebrows. “You owe me some answers, and I collect on all my debts.”
“He thinks I’m overly compassionate, and by his standards, it’s true. There are few people as calloused as my father.” He looked over my shoulder and stiffened.
I turned and saw Elvin waiting there, his arms crossed as he looked between me and Lochlan. “I’m here to buy socks,” he said. “Are you going to introduce me to your…”
“Friend,” I supplied.
“I hadn’t realized you had any friends,” Elvin said snidely.
I frowned. “You’re one to talk.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Elvin shot at me, then shifted his gaze to Lochlan. “I haven’t seen you around much lately. Where’ve you been?”
There was a hardened, bitter look to Lochlan’s eye that I hadn’t seen before. “Did you ever think I haven’t wanted to be around you much?” he shot back. “Why are you here?”
I kept looking back and forth between them. It really shouldn’t be a surprise. Our city might be the capital, but it was still relatively small enough that people would bump into each other.
“I heard Gil was working with a merchant and came to take a look. Not your typical line of work, is it, Gil?”
I glared at Elvin to avoid looking at Lochlan, whose eyes were about to burn a hole in my skull. “I do whatever it takes to put food on the table. You know that.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Elvin stared at Lochlan. “I can only imagine what sort of things Lochlan has you doing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lochlan said, rather aggressively.
Mable shifted and rubbed her eyes. She’d finally woken up.
Elvin smirked in a self-satisfied way that made me even more eager to slap him across the face. “Oh, nothing. Careful who you hang around, Lochlan. You too, Gil. You never know what other people do in their spare time.”
Lochlan went to grab Elvin, but Elvin danced out of reach and ran off.
“I can’t stand that little weasel,” Lochlan growled, cracking his knuckles.
“Me neither,” I said. “But sometimes we’re forced to work with people we don’t want to.”
“What did he mean, your typical line of work?” Lochlan asked me.
I was saved from answering when Auntie Mable sat up and stretched her hands out in front of her. “Who’s there?”
Lochlan went around to clasp her hands. “I’m here, Mable. It’s Lochlan. I’m sorry we woke you. Can I get you anything?”
She felt for his face. “Oh, it’s you, Lochlan. You’re a good boy.” Her fingers brushed past the scarf still wrapped around his neck to move up and pinch his cheek. “You do spoil this old woman.”
“Always a pleasure. Do you remember Gil? He’s here today too.”
She stretched out her hand to find me. “Your apprentice who’s too skinny? Yes, I remember. How are you, Gil? Is Lochlan teaching you to knit?”
“I’m learning about sales,” I told her. “I haven’t learned the knitting part yet.”
“Then you’re missing out,” she said, patting my hand. “Lochlan makes the most beautiful scarves in all of Berkway.”
Lochlan grinned in an embarrassed sort of way. “They aren’t that good, Mable.”
She waggled a finger. “And you don’t give yourself enough credit!
You ought to be proud of your work. In fact, I want to purchase another one—and don’t you dare give me another for free.
I want to support your business.” She fumbled for her drawstring purse and withdrew a coin. “Is this enough? I can’t see…”
“It’s plenty,” Lochlan said, taking the tiny copper coin. “You’re very generous. Here, this is the best one I made this week.” He tugged off the scarf he’d wrapped around his own neck and placed it into Mable’s hands. “That pattern was fun to do.”
She rubbed her fingers over it and smiled blissfully. “You really do make the best patterns. They aren’t boring or repetitive like the others. Each one is so unique. Now, promise me that you’ll be proud of your work. Promise.”
“I promise,” Lochlan said.
“Good. Then I’ll be off. Where’s my cane?”
Lochlan fetched it for her and we watched Mable slowly walk away, tapping her cane against the cobblestones as she went.
“You’re always so kind to her,” I said softly.
Lochlan shrugged. “She’s kind to others. I’m just trying to return the favor.”
As Mable turned the corner, a few of the Nightsworn came down the street toward us.
Their navy-blue uniforms stitched with gold thread stood out against the earthen tones of the other clothing in the market, and I found myself shrinking back against the booth, trying to make myself appear even smaller than usual.
The three men came closer, talking quietly with each other and looking at something small they carried between them. I busied myself with rearranging supplies on the table until I caught sight of what they were holding and my heart stopped beating.
It looked like a jar of pixie dust.
For several moments, I couldn’t even find the air to breathe.
How had they gotten it? Did they have someone as an undercover buyer that Roderick and the others didn’t know about? Or had Roderick, Peter, or Lochlan sold it to them under the table? Was one planning to rat out the rest of us and earn a reward as the others were imprisoned?
I inwardly squirmed. That was exactly what I would do to the others if offered a high enough bounty or if someone was willing to trade information on my family.
Though once I thought about it, I knew I’d have a harder time selling out Lochlan than someone like Roderick.
I’d lose sleep if I knew I’d brought harm to Lochlan, but I’d sleep better once I knew Roderick was off the streets.
“Did you see that?” I breathed to Lochlan, nodding at the pixie dust. “Do you think Peter sold some to them?”
Lochlan was keeping his back to the Nightsworn but tilted his head just enough to spot the jar in his peripheral vision. He waited until the Nightsworn were out of sight, then pivoted back to face the street again. “Why would you suspect Peter?”
“It makes sense. He knows more about pixie dust than the rest of us. He may have wanted an extra cut of the money. Besides, I told you I wasn’t here to steal pixie dust and you seem to know when I’m lying.”
“But he isn’t tempted by money, and you said you would be willing to steal some if the need suited you.
Peter has his own agenda and priorities, and he doesn’t let those go easily.
I don’t think he would sell pixie dust without telling the rest of us.
Now, do I believe he might steal it and take all of it for himself? Yes.”
“But you said it yourself. He has his own agenda and priorities. He may tell us he’s with us but will flip on a second. You saw him punch Roderick for practically no reason at all.”
Lochlan stroked his chin. “I suppose that’s true. How do I know it wasn’t you? You seem to be healing unnaturally quickly. Did you take any of the dust?”
“How do I know it wasn’t you?” I shot back rather than answering. Perhaps the dust had sped up my healing process. “Maybe you wanted to make some money on the side of the pitiful amount we have here.”
Lochlan grinned. “I like the way you think.” He looked after where the Nightsworn had turned down a side street at the end of the market. “It could be that they got it from that pixie who is around here sometimes, same as you did. Or else she might have just given it to them.”
“That’s probably what happened,” I agreed, relief flooding my system. Perhaps I wouldn’t be suspected after all. “The pixie is probably working with the Nightsworn.”
Lochlan nodded. “Probably.”
We looked at each other, and I noticed that Lochlan’s pupils were dilated.
He was lying.