Chapter 12 #2
Across the cave Evan glanced up suddenly. “Cold?” he asked.
“A little.”
He tossed another piece of wood onto the fire. “That should help.”
Ruby smiled faintly. “Thanks.”
For several heartbeats, neither of them spoke. Then Evan returned to his knife and Ruby leaned back against the cave wall. The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows across the rough stone.
“Try to get some sleep,” Evan said quietly.
“You know what? That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said all day.” She stretched out, sure she wouldn’t be able to get a wink of sleep on her hard ground.
But the sound of the wind outside mingled with the steady crackle of the fire. And within minutes, exhaustion pulled her under.
RUBY’S LEGS ACHED. Her boots were scuffed, her clothes were damp, and God-alone knew what her hair must look like. They’d been up and on the trail before first light, with only a cup of ale and hard biscuits for breakfast. Ruby was beginning to miss Isla’s wagon something fierce.
At least they’d seen no sign of pursuit since last night, although right now that did little to alleviate Ruby’s misery. She was so caught up in feeling sorry for herself that she didn’t notice Evan had halted, and so she walked right into the back of him.
She gave a little ‘oomph’. “What is it? Why have you stopped?”
“See for yerself.”
Ruby followed his line of sight—and froze.
A settlement spread out ahead of them. It crouched on a rocky spine, dark and jagged, a castle looming above everything like a clenched fist. Smoke curled into the pale sky from hundreds of chimneys, a gray haze that seemed to fill the sky.
Tall, narrow buildings crowded together as if for warmth, their upper stories leaning so close they seemed to be whispering to one another.
Edinburgh. At last.
But as she looked closer, Ruby realized it wasn’t her Edinburgh.
It was tiny compared to the sprawling city she knew. There was no New Town elegance, no wide Georgian streets, no familiar lines. This Edinburgh felt older. Wilder.
“Oh,” she said. After all the yearning to get here and the danger of the journey, she couldn’t think of anything better to say.
Evan glanced at her. “That’s Edinburgh,” he said, as though expecting more of a reaction.
“I know. And my cousin’s there. Somewhere in all that.”
Evan studied the city, his jaw set. “Aye. Somewhere in all that.”
They began walking again, the muddy track they had been following winding down onto a stony road that gradually widened, becoming the main thoroughfare to the capital.
The day grew louder. Wagons rattled past them, laden with barrels and crates.
Soldiers marched in uneven lines, red coats bright in the morning sun.
Riders in fine cloaks thundered by, mud splattering from their horses’ hooves.
After the silence and wide, open spaces of the moors, it was a little overwhelming.
Evan looked as tense as a stalking wolf. He strode in silence, shoulders hunched, eyes darting everywhere. And he wasn’t the only one who looked wary. Groups of townsfolk clustered together, talking in urgent, hushed tones.
As they got closer to the city, the tension only rose. Ruby spotted a group of people arguing openly by the roadside. A man shouted about Scotland selling its soul. Another yelled back about peace and prosperity. A woman clutched her children close, eyes darting between them.
“What’s happening?” Ruby murmured.
“The Articles of Union,” Evan replied. “It’s got the place stirred up like ants in a nest. Damned politics.”
They reached the gates into the city and Ruby saw a rank of soldiers guarding them, muskets in hand. They were stopping travelers and questioning them. Some travelers were waved through, others turned away. A few unlucky souls were pulled aside for further questioning.
Ruby licked her lips. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her arrival in Edinburgh would go. And yet, nothing about her trip into the past had turned out how she’d imagined. Why should this be any different?
As they slowed to a crawl amongst the press, Evan’s hand hovered near his waist, near the knives hidden beneath his coat.
He was wound tense as a spring—so tense she feared he might snap. She grabbed his sleeve, yanking his hand away from his knives.
“I’ve got this,” she said, stepping in front of him. “Just follow my lead.”
Before he could reply, she walked up to the soldiers. One of them looked her up and down. “Yer business in Edinburgh?”
Ruby straightened, shoulders back, expression composed in a way she’d perfected in boardrooms and crisis meetings. Confidence, even when she didn’t feel it, had always been her best armor.
“I’m visiting the city,” she said crisply. “I’ve family here. My cousin. I was delayed on the road by unrest.”
The soldier’s gaze flicked to Evan. “And him?”
“My escort. Hired for the journey. Dangerous roads, as you well know.”
The soldier grunted. “Name?”
She gave him her most charming smile. “Ruby Douglas.”
“And yer cousin?”
“Charlotte Douglas,” she said smoothly. “Her husband does business near the High Street.”
The soldier leaned closer. “Any allegiance?”
Ruby met his gaze without flinching. “Yes. To keeping my head down and my family safe.”
There was a beat of silence. Then the soldier snorted. “Canna argue with that. Move along.”
Ruby inclined her head and walked through the gates, Evan stalking by her side. Only when they were several paces inside did her knees threaten to give way.
Evan caught her elbow. “That was....” He cast around as if thinking of the right word.
“Idiotic?” Ruby supplied shakily.
A faint smile curled his lips. “I was going to say bold.”
She waved a hand. “Bold. Idiotic. Two sides of the same coin. But at least we got inside without too many questions.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Remind me never to play cards with ye.”
They set off deeper into the city. If Ruby had thought this would be some grand homecoming, she soon realized she was very mistaken.
This place was nothing like the city she knew.
The streets were narrow, crooked, and alive with noise.
Shouts echoed from every direction. Vendors hawked wares from stalls.
Livestock jostled alongside pedestrians.
Laundry hung from windows above, dripping onto the street.
Ruby recognized nothing beyond the castle rising on its crag above the city. There was no Princes Street, no orderly grid, no sense of space. Buildings rose straight up, blotting out the sky. And the smell—smoke, refuse, sweat, horse dung, food, and something sour beneath it all.
She clutched Evan’s sleeve instinctively. “I—” She swallowed. “I don’t know where to go.”
Evan glanced at her. “Where does yer cousin live?”
“I...I’m not sure.”
He rolled his eyes. “Wonderful.” His gaze darted to the throng of people, skipping over each face. “It’s getting late. We’ll find an inn and ask around in the morning. It will be safer.”
She hesitated. “But Charlie—”
“Will still be here tomorrow. For tonight, we need to disappear.”
“All right,” she said softly. “You’re right.”
They found an inn tucked down a narrow wynd, its sign creaking in the breeze. It wasn’t grand, but it was busy—and that, Evan said, was a good thing. Busy meant anonymous.
Inside, warmth and noise wrapped around Ruby like a warm blanket. After the cold and discomfort of the journey here, the laughter, clattering mugs and smell of stew was a balm. Ruby’s shoulders finally loosened a fraction.
Evan spoke quietly with the innkeeper. Moments later, they were led up a narrow staircase to a small room with a low ceiling. The door shut behind them, muting the noise of the inn.
“We made it,” she breathed. “I can’t believe I’m finally here.”
She leaned against the closed door but the noise of Edinburgh seeped through, regardless.
Voices echoed in the close streets outside.
Boots scraped on cobbles. Somewhere nearby a woman laughed too hard, the sound sharp and brittle.
Farther off, bells tolled, the deep notes rolling through the Old Town like a warning.
Edinburgh, after all this time. Sure, it was not the place she knew, but at least Charlie was here. Somewhere. Tomorrow, she would find her. Tomorrow, she would begin putting her life back in order.
The room they’d been given was small. A single narrow bed took up most of the space, its straw mattress covered with a coarse woolen blanket.
A rickety table stood beneath the window, a single chair pushed beneath it.
The air smelled faintly of smoke, damp stone, and something sour she preferred not to identify.
Evan crossed the room and checked the window, peering through the shutters before easing them closed. He tested the latch, then bade her move so he could check the door, tugging at it twice before sliding the bolt home with a decisive clunk.
He swung his pack off his shoulder, dumping it to the floor, then began removing weapons as if shedding a second skin.
Knives came first—one, two, three—laid out on the table in neat alignment.
Then another she hadn’t even known was there, slipped from the small of his back.
Only then did he shrug out of his coat, hanging it on a peg by the door.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not exactly happy to be here?”
Evan just shrugged. “Edinburgh remembers.”
That wasn’t an answer. She crossed to the table, leaning against the edge of it. Up close, she could see the tension in Evan’s shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as he took out a bit of cloth and began cleaning his weapons.
Outside, a group of men passed the window, their voices raised in argument. Evan’s gaze flicked to the shutters until the sound faded.
“Does it remember you?” she asked softly.
Evan picked up one of his knives, turned it in his fingers, light glinting along the blade. “I told ye,” he said. “I’ve history here.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No,” he agreed. “But it’s the answer ye are getting.”