27. Nora
27
Nora
S ent on another errand run, I realized how heightened my market experience had become. In a stall near the center square was a baker co-conspirator. By the docks, remnants of ash from where my nighttime accomplice and I took down human traffickers. At the crest, the stage in which the prince announced a marriage—the thing he would never realize was the nail in his coffin.
The coins rattled in the pouch as I weaved through the bustling midday throng. They silenced as I slammed myself to a halt, spinning around when I’d heard someone call my name, a voice that I didn’t recognize.
“Nora?” she said.
I turned to see a woman around my age, hair as black as shadows, and flawless ebony skin. I was drawn to her eyes, how against the dark brown the sun played tricks as if light blue occasionally peeked through.
“Yes. Do I know you?” I couldn’t place her.
She closed the distance. “No, actually, but I’ve been told you can help me.”
My heart turned leaden in my chest. I wondered if she’d found out about me from the Citadels. My gaze darted to those around us, concerned about anyone who might overhear.
“You know the baker, right?” she asked.
My stomach flipped like it was a professional acrobat. “Yes.” My voice quaked, second-guessing if I should have lied the moment the confirmation slipped through my lips.
“Perfect! This might sound a little strange, but do you think he would let me take his rotten scraps?”
Was this some sort of code? I hadn’t asked Alejo if there was a special, private way his group communicated out in the open. I blinked from the surprise of her question. “Pardon?”
“You know, food that’s gone bad? Stale things he can’t sell?”
“Oh, uh…I can ask him? Sorry, who are you?” My brow furrowed.
“Alaina.” She extended her hand in greeting and I took it. “You were at the Magic Supporters meeting.”
My heart returned to a living, beating organ again. I took in a deep breath of relief, my torrent of worry dammed up. “I was, yes.” That’s where she knew me from. “Of course I can ask him. Actually, I’m on my way to him right now, if you’d like to join me? I can make an introduction.”
She bounced on her heels, eyes wide with delight, like a child receiving a birthday gift. “That would be wonderful! I haven’t had much luck with any of the meat vendors. They snapped at me for even asking. Things are a little tense in this town.”
I gestured for her to follow and together we strode toward the baker’s stand. “Yeah, we have a lot of poverty here. They’ve become annoyed with the beggars in the community and have resolved to let people starve instead of actually helping. Where are you from? What brings you down to South Harbor?”
A string of dirty-faced children sped by, cutting us off. “Things aren’t much better where I’m from. But if I can return with rotten food, it’ll help,” she said.
We resumed our stride. “How?” I questioned, my stomach turning slightly queasy at the thought of moldy food. I placed my hand over my stomach and tried to hide my wincing.
“We don’t eat the rotten food, don’t worry.” She smirked, finding amusement in my reaction.
Before I could probe further, the last client stepped away from Alejo’s stand. “Hi Alejo, this is Alaina. She has a question for you.”
He clapped his flour-dusted hands, forming a cloud in the air. “Hello Nora. How can I help?”
“Do you have any unusable goods you’d be willing to part with?” my new acquaintance asked.
Alejo quirked an eyebrow. “Usually those go to the local farmers for their livestock. What would you want with them? Not to eat, I hope?” He flashed a glance at me, and the silent communication was all too loud. A reminder of the connection we now shared, an undetectable warning to make sure we kept our business under wraps. I shifted on my feet.
“I’d rather not say, but it would help a lot of people, immensely. I can even offer you some coin.” She started digging through her satchel, but Alejo raised a hand.
“Please. I won’t take money for turned baked goods. I only have a couple loaves for you now, but I may have more by the end of the day. I close at four. Now, I can’t do this every day, but I can spare a day a week if you need.”
Alaina’s shoulders sagged, as if releasing tension she’d been holding since we’d met. “That would be wonderful.”
Alejo grabbed a couple loaves, and she deposited the blue-tinged breads in her satchel. I placed my order, clarifying I would take the ones sans mold, but we didn’t exchange any more words than that, especially not with Alaina standing nearby.
“Thank you.” I nodded, and he returned one of his own.
Pivoting on my heel, I started walking into the crowd. Alaina followed, not paying attention since she was still figuring out the best way to pack her satchel. “Your town,” I said, “you mentioned things were bad there, too. Why?”
“Same as here, I suppose. There’s a terrible famine, and more and more of us are going missing.”
I paused, spinning to face her. “Your people are going missing, too?”
She finished adjusting her bag and peered at me. There was a heaviness behind her unique eyes, one that told me she ached for the losses, just as I did.
“That’s one of the reasons we came here. The last one that we know of, he came to South Harbor to warn the others, but he never came home.”
My mind began racing, but I focused on some of her word choices. “We? Others?”
She straightened and took a deep breath, but didn’t seem bothered to share details. “Yes, I came with a travel companion. One reason was for collecting food scraps to take back with us, and the other was to look into Raf’s disappearance.”
She could see that I still didn’t get all the answers I was looking for, so she continued, “My companion and I are witches, so was Raf. We came to the Magic Supporters group to spread the word, so they start being cautious.” Someone else might have stirred or stiffened at that revelation, a reason she lowered her voice when she spoke.
“So who starts being cautious?”
“It’s not safe in Highcrest for magic wielders right now. Or anywhere, it seems.”
The revelation made me blink in question. She seemed to think the disappearances were affecting magic wielders, but nothing I’d discovered when looking into the missing person reports indicated that as a commonality.
Except…
Chol and I watched a ship cloaked by magic appear in the harbor. When Clemmons’ parents let me in while I asked them questions earlier today, I’d noticed they had a vase of willowroot in their living room. Melody would take some anytime she was sick, seeing as it was an herb most beneficial to those with magic. Then I remembered that Mrs. Gallagher showed up to the Supporters meeting. And Sverik and Sharla were there, too.
My thoughts swirled, wondering if this was the lead that would crack the case. Maybe these kidnappings were an act of hate against magic wielders. My blood coursed with greater purpose. I had to find out if everyone who had gone missing was either a magic wielder or supporter.
Then I had to tell Chol.
“You said Raf went missing here.” I debated telling her my suspicions.
“Yes.”
Not knowing if it would hurt her or help, I decided to share anyway. “There was a man found murdered on the beach. He wasn’t local, no one was able to identify him. I heard he might have been jumped by a group.”
She took in a shuddering breath, then a deathly calm settled over her graceful features. “Where is the body?”
“Oh, I…I don’t know.” My lips twisted in remorse.
Her gaze dropped to the ground, disappointment welling in her eyes. She was too late to save him. Helpless. It struck a chord in me, one that had me unable to abandon her in her grief.
“But I know someone who might,” I said, hoping Chol’s connection to the guardsmen would come in handy.
This time, when she peered up at me, my chest expanded with resolve over what I saw in her eyes.
Hope.