Aiden jerked his head. “I’ll show you where to keep your gold, Kiera.”
He led me to a locked trunk nestled in a corner. Sinking to one knee, he fished a key from his pocket and opened it. “Librius usually has the key and will give it to you whenever you ask.”
I knelt next to him and peeked inside. Two snarling Wolf masks gazed blankly up at me. A shiver rippled over my skin. The stolen uniforms and sunstone knives were there as well, alongside a few pouches that bulged as if filled with coins. King Tristan’s ring was hidden near the bottom. A packet of letters and?—
“Is thathuman hair?”
Aiden chuckled. “One of Maz’s braids. He was so upset when he had to cut them off that he brought one with us as a reminder of sorts.”
I wrinkled my nose and tucked my bag of coins as far away from the blond braid—and the Shadow-Wolf gear—as possible.
Aiden closed the trunk and locked it. But he didn’t get up. I suddenly realized how very close we were.
My breathing tightened.
“That gold is yours, Kiera, to do with whatever you want,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to worry about working as a messenger or a dancer anymore, unless you wish to.” He took a deep breath. “When the time comes, I’ll give you a warning so you can prepare. However this ends, I hope you can take this gold and use it to make a new life for yourself. A better one.”
“What if I can’t see a way to a better life?” I whispered.
His eyes softened, and I could almost feel his need to reach for me. Or perhaps that was only my own need. “You’ll find one,” he whispered back. “For the short time I’ve known you, you’ve always found a way to win.”
Gods help me, I wanted him to win too.
“Again,”Ruru’s weary voice filtered down to me.
I grunted, hobbling in a circle on my sore ankle. “Give me a moment.”
He sighed loudly, and I nearly threw a rotten apple from the gutter at him.
It’d been nearly a week since Asher’s death and my induction into this gods-forsaken plan.
A week of training with Ruru—throwing knives while he shot arrows, running laps above and below ground, and this gods-damn climbing routine straight from the deep, dark, wandering hell itself.
He’d shown me the spots he was to shoot from, each one a small, flat-topped roof of a high building—a bathhouse, an old inn, and an abandoned apartment building. Our views gave us a direct line of sight to the closest web of alleys and our targets—a crumbling carpenter’s workshop, an empty house, and a dilapidated stable near the prison.
Each target was chosen for its state of abandon and its separation from the surrounding buildings. We didn’t want to start a fire that would spread to more parts of the Old Quarter.
Thinking of my mother, I made Ruru swear that we would triple-check that no people or animals were inside when we set the bombs. He’d already been stocking the places with old driftwood and broken furniture.
But to get to our perches?
We had to scale three buildings in a very short amount of time. Aiden and Maz had been timing the Shadow-Wolves’ response to commotions for months. Everything had to work perfectly.
But I was used to the climbing walls Renwell had rigged in our training room, as well as the few places in the Noble Quarter I’d climbed. All of which had a myriad of footholds and handholds. And even then, I hated clinging to the side of abuilding like a moth. Except I had no wings and would plummet to the dirty street below.
These buildings were plainer, smoother. I had to rely on windowsills and small cracks in the storm-washed stone.
Gods, I wished I were back with Melaena completing a thousand turns with a smile overthistorture.
“You’re hesitating right before the jump,” Ruru called down to me from the roof I’d been trying to leap to from the one next to it. “It’s making you fall short.”
I glared up at him. “You think? Any more helpful tips?”
A deep voice spoke from the other roof. “Perhaps you need more motivation.”
I squinted past the setting sun to see Aiden’s green eyes gazing down at me. We hadn’t spoken much in the last week. I’d seen him with Librius and Nikella when I trained with Ruru; I’d eaten with him and the others atThe Weary Traveler. He’d slept every night in the next room.
I followed him a few times to see if he was doing anything else, but each time, he simply went back to one of his usual places.
