Chapter 3
Sonya woke slumped against a wet brick wall, the boy crouched in front of her.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked. Hand light at her elbow, he helped her stand.
She looked down at the men. Even though they were breathing heavily, their eyes closed, she tensed. A shudder ran through her.
‘Come,’ the boy said. ‘Before they wake.’
He offered her his hand, and Sonya took it. Only after she followed him did she realize she should have hesitated; this was a complete stranger! But he had saved her.
His paces were quick, and Sonya jogged a little to catch up with him. In a few turns, they ended up back in the square. Sonya caught her breath, holding a hand over her heart.
‘Alright?’ he asked. Releasing her hand, he stood in front of her, and she looked up at him, taking him in. He regarded her with dark brown eyes beneath long eyelashes.
The rain had slowed now. His black hair was wet, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck.
He had thick brows, a strong nose, and high cheekbones.
He was wearing simple clothes—dark trousers, white blouse, maroon waistcoat—and she deduced he must have been from the Outskirts.
He was very tall, and as he stepped closer, she tilted her head back to look up at him.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked, voice gentle. She shook her head, still unable to speak. He looked her over before meeting her eyes again. ‘You’re from the castle.’ It wasn’t a question.
How did he know?
Fear bolted through her, making her heart rate quicken. Sonya thought back to the flash of recognition she had seen on his face before fainting. She braced to run, but something on his face softened.
‘Your uniform,’ he said, clearing his throat.
Oh. He hadn’t recognized her, but her clothes. He thought she worked at the castle.
‘How could you tell?’ she asked.
‘From the fabric and the cut,’ he replied. ‘My mother used to be a tailor—a stitch-witch. She made uniforms for castle staff.’
‘Oh.’ The trepidation left her, and she shivered. She had had a terrible shock, but at least she hadn’t been found out.
Suddenly, Sonya recalled the coin purse she’d unwittingly left behind with the unconscious men.
She ought to go back, but she was too afraid.
What if they were awake? The dagger was back there, as well, and while it was useless, it could have been worth a decent amount.
She nibbled on her lower lip. All of her money, gone.
‘I’m Azam,’ the boy said. ‘Azam Mirza.’
‘Sonya,’ she replied, without thinking. She stilled, realizing too late that she should have thought of an alias.
Luckily, Azam didn’t react. She was glad; she wanted to keep her name if she couldn’t keep anything else. Besides, it was common enough. She had been named after her grandmother.
‘Come on,’ Azam said, giving her a small smile. ‘This isn’t the best part of town. Lots of travelers here who don’t know the ways. It’s much safer deeper into the Outskirts. We should get somewhere dry.’
Sonya decided to go with him. Azam had saved her, and his mother had worked for the castle. The castle only ever hired the very best people. He seemed honorable. Kind.
And she was so tired.
She followed as he led her deeper into the Outskirts, away from the bustle and toward another, smaller square. They walked into another tavern, though this one was populated with company that was decidedly less rowdy than the other tavern.
Azam led her to an empty table, gesturing for her to sit, and she did. A few moments later he returned with a mug of tea. Wrapping her hands around the mug, she warmed her palms, then took a sip. It was sweet and milky.
‘I wasn’t sure how you took your tea,’ he said, ‘but I added sugar. It’ll make you feel better.’
He had brought a plate of biscuits as well, and he took one before sitting down across from her. Taking a bite, he looked at her closely, as if there was something he wanted to say. She swallowed, looking up at him, and he must have thought better of it, for he simply gave her a small smile.
Sonya felt much better now. ‘I’d like to thank you for saving me,’ she said. ‘And for bringing me here. I wish I could compensate you for your service, but—’
‘Please,’ he said, holding up a hand. ‘It was nothing. Truly. I am just glad you are safe.’
His glance strayed to one of the windows, to the dark outside. He looked back at her. His voice was hesitant when he spoke, as if he wasn’t sure how to elucidate what he was thinking. ‘Are you … lost?’
She nodded. ‘I’m new here,’ she said. ‘I used to live in Castletown.’ That wasn’t a lie, not entirely.
‘Oh.’ He paused. ‘Did you have somewhere in the Outskirts you were wishing to go?’ he asked. ‘Somebody you were looking for?’
She shook her head. ‘I—I’m alone,’ she said and, horribly, tears welled in her eyes. She took in a shaky breath, trying to calm herself, but it only made things worse. Her vision blurred.
Azam’s face melted. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, his voice soothing. He reached across the table, putting his hand over hers. ‘You’ll be alright. Really. You will.’ He squeezed, and she nodded, blinking the tears away.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, looking down at their hands.
‘You have nothing to apologize for,’ he said. He removed his hand from hers and pushed her teacup forward. ‘Drink your tea. It’ll help.’
She took another sip, swallowing the lump in her throat. Silence hung between them then, and she realized she should probably ask him about himself.
‘Um—what do you do?’ she asked. ‘Are you a stitch-witch like your mother?’
He smiled, brown eyes warm. ‘I am,’ he said. ‘I’m an apprentice at a tailor’s in Castletown.’ He spoke to her easily, as if they were friends, and that made her relax. The conversation helped distract her from the frightening ordeal she had been through.
‘How wonderful,’ she said, giving him the entirety of her attention. ‘What’s it like, being a witch?’
He told her, and she listened to him talk as she drank her tea, and before she knew it, the cup was empty. Slowly, the plate of biscuits emptied as well, and the conversation slowly trickled to an end, bringing about a moment of silence.
‘Do you know of any establishments in which I might stay for the night?’ Sonya asked.
He frowned. ‘There are, but none I would recommend for you. Forgive me, but it doesn’t seem as though you are well-acquainted with traveling on your own.’
‘I believe that much is obvious.’ Suddenly, she frowned. ‘I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to afford it, anyway.’
Azam worked his jaw, thinking. ‘It is cold and the rain doesn’t look like it’ll let up any time soon.
If you aren’t immediately opposed to the idea, why don’t you stay the night at my home?
’ She raised her brows, and he held up his hands in innocence.
‘My little sister and grandmother are there as well, so you need not worry about being alone with a strange man you just met.’
‘You are kind,’ she told him. ‘I have no cause to worry.’
‘You are easily trusting,’ he said, eyebrows scrunching as if this troubled him.
‘If you are sure it’s not a problem, then yes, I would appreciate it greatly if I could stay with you.’ She could think about a more permanent living situation tomorrow, once the sun was out once more.
‘It isn’t a problem at all,’ he said.
They left the tavern, stepping back into the chilly night. Sonya wasn’t very good with directions, and even as she tried to remember the route they were taking, she could only remember as far as the first turn. Then she gave up altogether, simply walking alongside Azam as he led the way.
Luckily, the rain had slowed to a mist, the clouds shifting and parting to let in shafts of moonlight. The cobblestoned street glimmered, black and white. It was about fifteen minutes before they arrived onto a quiet street.
The street was home to small cottages that sat close to one another. There were no gardens in the front, and they walked right up to the door of one of the homes. Azam opened the door with a key, letting her in.
The cottage was warm and quiet as they entered into the hallway. Directly in front of them was a staircase leading up; to her left was a closed door, and to the right was an open door.
‘This way,’ Azam said, leading her to the right.
She followed and they entered the main living area of the cottage where there was a kitchen and dining area, and a sofa in front of a fireplace.
Azam walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water from a glass pitcher, then brought it back for her.
‘Oh, thank you,’ she said, taking a sip.
‘If you need anything else, feel free,’ he said. When she shook her head, he led her back to the staircase. They went up the creaky steps to the second floor, and Azam pointed to the far end on the right.
‘My bedroom is there, and the door next to it is the bathroom,’ he said.
From the door to her left, Sonya heard snoring.
Azam gently pushed open a door that was already ajar to reveal another bedroom.
There was an old lady (the source of the snoring) asleep on the bed, and beside her was a little girl.
She must have been around four years old.
‘That’s my sister, Dania,’ Azam whispered. ‘And Grandma Kiri beside her.’
He led her down to the left end, to a closed door. ‘You can sleep in here,’ he said, opening the door. The third bedroom was stuffed with boxes atop pieces of furniture.
He quickly moved some of the boxes aside, shoving others into the closet until a bedframe and mattress were visible. He brushed aside dust and looked at her sheepishly. ‘I’m sorry for the mess, but I thought you might be more comfortable here than on the couch downstairs.’
‘Thank you,’ Sonya said, setting the glass of water down on a flat surface. Azam looked around, then frowned.
‘Just a moment,’ he said. He dashed out of the room, then returned a few moments later with a pillow and a blanket he must have brought from his room. He set them down on the mattress, then rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I know it isn’t much—’
‘It’s perfect,’ Sonya said. Azam looked at her, and when he saw her smile, he seemed to relax.
‘Okay,’ he said, nodding. ‘Good.’ He shuffled on his feet awkwardly. ‘Yes, so, I showed you the other rooms and the bathroom, and if there’s anything else you need, you can just let me know.’
‘I appreciate it,’ she replied. ‘Is it just you, your grandmother, and your sister up here?’ Sonya asked. She thought to the closed door downstairs. ‘Is your parents’ room downstairs?’
‘Oh.’ He swallowed. ‘No, they—they’re both dead, now.’
Shock rippled through her. ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have …’
‘No, it’s alright.’ He gave her a sad smile. ‘It’s been some years now. Of course it still hurts, but …’
‘I understand, if only a little bit,’ Sonya said. ‘I lost my mother when I was a baby. I never knew her, yet still I miss her.’
He looked pained. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, voice gentle. He looked as if he wanted to say something else but then thought better of it. He shook his head.
He was so sweet, and he had no reason to be. There was nothing she could do for him. He was being kind for the sake of being kind. Even though he was practically a stranger, she felt as if she knew him, as if she was safe with him. Maybe she was too trusting.
‘Get some rest,’ he said. ‘In the morning, we can figure out what to do.’
Feeling bold, Sonya reached out and touched his arm. Emotion crossed his face, something she couldn’t quite understand.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.