Chapter 16 #2
She smiled so brightly it lit up her entire face and brought out the charming quirk in her teeth.
Before Cole knew it, he grinned back, caught off guard by just how stunning she was.
He ached to kiss her, to reprise that dazzling moment in the forest after their encounter with the Poroo.
No one would see. No one would know but them.
He slid his thumb along her cheek, cradled her neck, pulled her toward him.
He’s not leaving, Kurtz bloodvoiced. We’ll distract him so you can get out of there.
The interruption brought a wash of shame over Cole. Where was his head? Not on the mission. Not on protecting Mistel but taking advantage.
He’d agreed to be her cousin for a reason.
Cole forced himself to release Mistel, feeling as if he’d stepped outside into the bitter cold. “Kurtz says we need to go. Come on.” He crossed to the door, thinking he should search the desk again, but the invoice in his pocket would have to do.
He found the key he’d used to open the door, then glanced outside and saw Zanna talking with Thusk’s man at the foot of the stairs.
Cole twisted the knob carefully and opened the door. He inserted the key into the lock and motioned Mistel out. She slipped past, and he followed, pulling the door closed behind him. With the key already in place, he quickly twisted it, then tucked the keys into his pocket.
On the ground below, Zanna said, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Go,” Cole whispered, gesturing Mistel down the stairs.
She went, and Cole followed, careful not to make a sound.
Halfway down, Mistel called out, “Did you find a way in, Anna?”
The guard turned, frowning. “What are you two doing up there?”
Mistel smiled sweetly. “Looking for the dressing room. You do have one, don’t you?”
The guard blinked. “Why would we need one?”
Mistel glided down the steps. “We’re musicians, playing here tonight. I wanted to see if there was a dressing room. If not, I’ll wear my best costume and leave the others behind.”
The guard blinked again, eyeing Cole warily. “No dressing room, miss. But wear whatever you like.”
Mistel’s grin faltered. “That’s a shame. I’ll be sure to choose carefully. See you tonight?”
The guard nodded, clearly flustered as Mistel trailed a finger over his shoulder as she walked past.
Cole rushed after her, admiration warring with irritation. When they reached Kurtz across the street, he asked, “Was that really necessary?”
“She covered for us well,” Kurtz said. “When the guard sees us play tonight, he won’t think on this morning again.”
“Yet there’s a whole day before tonight for him to talk,” Zanna said.
“Exactly,” Cole said. “You should think before you speak, Mistel.”
“I did,” Mistel said, frowning. “The whole point in coming this morning was so that we could use the excuse of playing here tonight. I did exactly that.”
“I need you to be more careful,” Cole said.
“And I need you to be less bossy,” she said.
“I’m not trying to—the king put me in charge of this mission. So, I should get some say in how much unnecessary risk we take.”
“Risk is part of the game, Cole. You knew that when you let me stay.”
He gritted his teeth. “Let’s just go,” he said. “I want to show Kurtz and Zanna what we found.”
The four of them made their way to Fat Vandy’s, entering through the back. Zanna led them into the dim main room to a table by a window.
“Still standing,” Kurtz said, looking around. “Didn’t think I’d see this place again.”
“They don’t get up as early as they used to,” Zanna said.
“I’ll come by later to say hello,” Kurtz said.
They sat down, and Cole pulled out the invoice he’d taken.
“Thusk is tangled up with more than just Erlichman.” He traced his finger under Jaira Hamartano’s name, then Verdot Amal’s. “This must prove something, but I don’t know what.”
Kurtz squinted at the writing. “Verdot Amal shipping boar to Jaira Hamartano? I don’t think so. Where would he get them, eh? And why?”
“Verdot runs Ice Island,” Zanna said, “and he—”
“We know,” Kurtz cut in.
She glared at Kurtz. “I was going to say, he doesn’t ship anything from the prison.”
Cole eyed the invoice. “How much does a boar sell for?”
“Anywhere between five to ten golds,” Kurtz said.
“Lands!” Mistel said. “That’s a fortune.”
“These boar cost even more,” Cole said, pointing at the prices. “Lowest one sold to Jaira was thirty golds.”
“No one would pay thirty golds for a boar,” Kurtz said.
“Who even has thirty golds to spend on anything?” Mistel asked.
“Not many,” Kurtz said, “but the Hamartanos do.”
Cole frowned. “They must be smuggling something.”
“Oh, definitely,” Kurtz said. “The question is, what?”
“Prisoners from Ice Island?” Cole said.
Silence fell.
“Now, that could be,” Kurtz said. “You’re on to something, poet.”
“We need to search Thusk’s warehouse,” Cole said.
“I’ve passed it a few times,” Zanna said, “but it’s always swarming with workers.”
“Then let’s look at Verdot Amal,” Cole said. “He must be involved.”
“I’m sure he is,” Kurtz said. “But tread lightly. He put me in Ice Island for thirteen years. He’s dangerous.”
Cole felt that in his bones. Prince Oren hadn’t sent them here for nothing. He didn’t want Mistel near a man who trafficked people, but today had again proved she had skills the rest of them lacked. She would risk herself again and again, and he had to allow it, learn to work with it somehow.
Trust Arman to do what he could not.