Chapter 15
15
Nix and I decided we would borrow some of Jinky’s clothes and head to the market to see if we could find these shady characters. Jinky wasn’t due back to check on me until dinnertime. The main precaution we had to take was avoiding her on our way out of the palace so that the guards wouldn’t be sent to shadow me. Luckily, that wasn’t a problem. I was getting pretty good at sneaking around the hallways.
“We’ll have to hurry,” I told Nix as we descended the servant staircase that would lead us down to the main floor. “They’re always keeping tabs on where I am.”
Nix was an ideal co-conspirator. She went along with everything I said, no questions asked and without hesitation. She led us with confidence through doors and sharp turns, almost like she knew the palace better than I did.
She grabbed a basket and hooked it in the crook of her arm. “Can’t shop without a basket,” she whispered.
After a few minutes of lurking through the back halls, we burst out the rear doors and scurried off through the gardens. A few times, we had to flatten ourselves against the hedges and wait for guards to pass, then we ran, giggling, until we needed to hide again.
Finally, we escaped from the palace grounds to the main road. We kept our hoods up and our faces down, walking slower, worried about drawing too much attention. “If anyone asks, we’re just two kitchen girls going to buy herbs,” Nix said.
I nodded. “But what are we going to do if we can’t find those guys?”
Nix shrugged. “Then we’ll buy some cake and go home. I call that a win-win.”
Everywhere I looked, there were calesas and carts, their wheels shaking against the stone roads, alongside clacking hooves and drivers shouting at one another for getting in the way or not going fast enough. The royal armorer sat outside her workshop, polishing formal chest plates that the guards would wear for the coronation festivities. There were ribbons hung over every window, hoping to entice the crowds that would descend on the town square during the celebration to step inside their shops. Villagers crowded the walkways, stopping to admire pottery and scarves or ducking in and out of shops, the bells on their doors constantly tinkling.
The scent of bread and roasted vegetables wafted from a tavern nearby. We’d left all our food uneaten at the palace. “Let’s eat,” I told Nix and grabbed on to the sleeve of her cloak, pulling her playfully toward the enticing aroma.
“They have the best empanadas,” Nix said, pointing to one of the taverns up ahead.
My stomach growled. “All right, let’s go there, then,” I said, steering to the right. We crossed the street, dodging horses, and pushed open the door. It tinkled, then slammed shut behind us, making me jump a little. The inside was much quieter than the streets outdoors but had its own ambience—silver mugs slamming down on thick wooden tables, utensils scraping against pottery, the constant din of voices deep in conversation, occasionally shouting over one another. I couldn’t hear most of what they were saying, except I did catch some of one particularly loud man’s strong opinions—about me. “You better hope she’s up to it. Or you can kiss your backside goodbye” and “Do I need to remind you there is no king right now? And never mind now, we’re lookin’ at the foreseeable future!”
Luckily, nobody paid any attention to us. I kept my hood up just in case.
Nix grabbed a seat at a table in front of the window. “We can watch for you-know-who ,” she whispered.
“Right, good idea.” We sat down and waited for someone to come over. I scanned the streets outside, looking for anyone who fit the description of the men Lucas was talking to, but I didn’t see any. Nix was right, though; even if we didn’t find them, the outing was worth it.
A dwende appeared at the table. “Good afternoon. And what will you be drinking?” he asked.
“Tsokolate, please,” I said.
Nix chimed in. “And empanadas for both of us.”
He walked away without another word, and we went back to staring out the window.
Soon, cups and plates piled with puffy, savory treats were being laid in front of me, but I’d stopped paying attention to what was happening directly around me. I’d spotted someone on the other side of the road, a black-clad head bobbing in the crowd.
“Nix,” I said, trying to hold down my excitement. “Is that one of them?”
“Where?” She turned and gazed out the window with me.
I pointed. “When that carriage passes, you’ll see him.”
She shook her head; I felt deflated. “That’s not one of them,” she said. “Hmmm... He looks like he might know them, though.” She picked up one of the pastries and took a bite.
I did the same. “Oh my god, this is amazing.” The crust was buttery and crisp and filled with a thick paste of cheese and vegetables. Better than anything I ever had back in the human world.
“I told you! Makes being here worth it,” Nix said, then suddenly leaned closer to the window. “Wait, hold on. I think it is one of the guys I saw.”
“Should we go over there?” I asked, even if I kind of hoped she’d say no. This was the second merienda we hadn’t finished. But she was up and heading out the door before I could stop her. I took out some coins and left them on the table.
Nix was already prepared to cross the street when I caught up to her. “Hey! Wait for me.”
“I’m not ditching you,” she said. Her head swayed back and forth, watching for a break in the traffic. “Just wanted to make sure one of us got there before he left.” She tugged on my sleeve. “Come on.” We dodged horses and calesas, almost getting run over by a farmer’s cart, until our feet were planted firmly on the other side.
“That was harrowing,” I said.
“He’s still there,” Nix said. “Let’s hurry.”
We dashed down the street, swerving around slow walkers. Right before we reached the flower stand, we slowed down. “Here,” Nix said, tilting her head toward the bookshop next to us. There were tables out front, covered in old books. She began leafing through one of them, looking up at the suspicious man from beneath her hood. I followed suit. The nearest book was huge, like a coffee-table book but hundreds of pages long. The cover was plain brown leather. I opened it and read the title: Spells and Incantations: A Forbidden History . I wondered if there was anything about the beetles in here. I flipped to the back, but there was no index. So I paged through it randomly instead. If the entries were in any sort of order, I couldn’t make sense of it. There were some about potions and poisons, coercion spells, love spells—nothing about beetles or bugs.
Nix grabbed me again. “He’s on the move.”
We followed the man a little farther up the street, past the flower stand, a fabric shop, and a rug seller. He didn’t stop walking until he reached the spice merchant. We jerked to a halt and started examining the rugs.
“These are very expensive,” an old woman said to us. “If you want something more affordable, they’re on the other side.”
“Just browsing, thanks,” Nix said. We walked away while the woman glared at us.
We were going straight to the spice cart. “What are we doing? Do we have a plan?” I whispered. The possible insurgent was only a few feet away from us now. And he didn’t look particularly friendly.
She nudged me gently in his direction.
“Why me?” I asked. Now, all of a sudden, Nix lost her nerve?
“You’re right,” she said. “This was a bad idea.” She retreated a few steps and turned as if she was going back to the palace.
This time, I grabbed her by the cloak. “Oh, no,” I said. “We didn’t come all this way for nothing.” I was still reluctant, but I tried to feel brave. Nix was looking at me, encouraging me to go ahead. Counting on me to lead the way. I figured if I was going to get any respect as queen, I needed to prove I deserved it. No one would approve of a leader who couldn’t even start a conversation with a random guy in the market, no matter how sketchy he looked.
I took a deep breath and started walking toward him before I could talk myself out of it again. Nix followed me. “Here’s that cinnamon I was telling you about,” I told her.
“Oh, wow, yes,” she said, picking up a small jar. She smelled it. “Ah, yes. Wonderful indeed,” she said in a weirdly formal voice. I felt like slapping my hand to my face. It was obvious we were up to something. The spice merchant gave us a withering look. “I’ll take this one,” I told him, yanking the jar from Nix’s hands.
The old man nodded. “Twenty gold crowns.”
“I left my money at home,” Nix whispered to me.
I took the coins from my skirt pocket and handed them to him. The shady guy was still looking the other way, but I could tell his ear was perked and he was listening to us. At that point I knew for sure he’d noticed us following him.
I stepped closer, as if I was also inspecting the cardamom pods. I watched his hand inch closer to the knife on his belt. I felt a lump in my throat and belly at the same time.
“Sir!” The word escaped my mouth louder than I’d thought. “Any idea what Sir Lucas was talking to your friends about?” I cringed a little at my candor. It was too late to backtrack now.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” he replied without looking directly at me.
Aha! So this man did know Lucas! I was trying to formulate a reply when Nix stepped forward, indignant. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she said. I held my arm out in front of her so she wouldn’t get any closer to him. He scoffed at her advance. True, she could hardly threaten a fly, but I was more worried about what he might do to her than vice versa.
“Look,” he said, putting his hands up, as if to say he wanted nothing to do with this. “Like I told him, I don’t run in certain circles anymore.”
“Maybe not,” I challenged him. “But you must know what they were talking about.”
“I wish I could help you,” he said. “However, I’m afraid I cannot.”
As if I believed that. “Maybe you could,” I blurted out. I hesitated, unsure I should say what I was thinking, because it could backfire. He could use it against me in multiple ways. But I decided there was no better way to figure out if he was telling the truth.
His face was blank. I was hoping for some type of clue—like maybe he’d seem really interested in what I was about to say, or even totally bored. But he was neither. He just stared at me. Somehow that was more unnerving than either of the other options. “I was wondering if you could help me get back home. You know, outside of Biringan.” Maybe I was missing home. But I thought if anyone would be able to travel through realms undercover, it would be a sketchy guy like him.
He shook his head. “I already told your noble friend. He’s got the wrong guy. I don’t deal in human trafficking anymore. My hands are clean. He has no reason to come after me.”
“Huh?”
“Listen, I don’t want to end up bloodied on the side of the road, okay?” he growled.
I thought about how I’d seen Lucas beating up some men the other day—human men. Hold on. Maybe they weren’t human? Maybe they were encanto? What if he was beating up traffickers ? Was that what he’d been doing?
“Sir Lucas is after human traffickers?”
The man blinked at me. “I don’t know why he cares so much about what happens to humans. Stupid, if you ask me. I told him I don’t know who’s bringing them in and keeping them here, but it’s not me. I don’t trade in torture and kidnapping.”
I tried to keep my face as neutral as his was, though I felt like I was failing. Nix definitely was not keeping a poker face. She looked outraged and terrified at the same time.
“Right, I’ll make sure he knows—” I began. Nix grabbed my arm and started pulling me away. I resisted, and she let up. But she was super antsy. She looked at me, raised her eyebrows, and glanced back toward the palace, as if saying, Let’s go .
“Of course, Your Highness,” he said, bowing with a flourish. He rose with a smirk on his face.
I froze. It took me a few seconds to think up a reply. “What did you call me?” I feigned ignorance.
He raised his cap, bowed again, then turned and walked away.
“I knew it, I knew it,” Nix said.
“You knew that he knew who I am?”
“No,” she admitted. “I knew something was wrong.”
“No matter,” I said, thinking of what he’d told me about how Lucas cared about the humans trapped in Biringan and how he’d been beating up people responsible for their misery.