“My pleasure,” Cole said. “Thank you again for the soup.”
“Yes, thank you,” Mistel echoed.
Just as she stepped over the threshold, she felt something slip into her palm. She looked down and saw a small piece of parchment held there by Madam Raven’s thin fingers.
“It was lovely to meet you both.” The woman’s gaze briefly met Mistel’s just before she shut the door between them.
Mistel stumbled down the icy walk to the hitching post where they’d tied their horses. She didn’t look at the parchment until she had reached Bart’s side. There she unfolded it, and the words sent a chill down her spine.
Master Fawst has threatened my daughter.
Mistel looked up. “Cole.”
He turned back, and she handed him the parchment. “Madam Raven gave that to me on the way out.” She watched as he read and his jaw tightened.
“Drustan always did like picking on those who couldn’t fight back,” he said. “They’re either trying to keep Raven quiet or force him to act.”
“Maybe both,” Mistel said. “What should we do now?”
Cole sighed at the house, then down the road. “No sign of Kurtz. I suppose I should take you to Fat Vandy’s.”
Had he lost his sense of adventure already? They’d just found a clue! “Shouldn’t we go find Drustan Fawst? Ask him about threatening Tom Raven’s daughter?”
“We are not looking for Drustan without Kurtz. And maybe Quimby and Zanna too.”
Mistel supposed that was fair, considering Cole’s past with the brute. So, what else could they do? “You know,” she said casually, “we’re already near the harbor. We should ride past on our way to Fat Vandy’s and take a quick look at the docks.”
Cole frowned at the sky. “It’s starting to get dark.”
“But it’s not dark yet. And you’ve got your sword. No one’s going to bother us.”
He grimaced. “You don’t know that. The docks aren’t likely full of friendly faces.”
“Which makes this the perfect time to look around without anyone noticing us,” Mistel said. “The duel? Anyone who has to work will still be working, and villains won’t come out this early. We might find one of Thusk’s ships.”
Cole hesitated, twisting his lips. She could see the gears turning in his head, weighing the risk. She knew he wanted to go, wanted answers as much as she did.
“Fine,” he said at last, boosting her up onto Bart’s side saddle. “But we’re just looking. No sneaking onto ships, no drawing attention. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Cole mounted Cherix, and Mistel steered Bart after him, grinning as they made their way toward the waterfront.
They neared a tangle of piers where the filthy slush of the road gave way to the wooden planks of a wharf. The entire place felt deserted. Where were the workers?
Ahead of Mistel and Bart, Cherix’s hooves skidded. He tossed his head and snorted, ears pinned back.
“I don’t like this,” Cole said. “If there’s a gap under all this snow, we won’t know until a hoof goes through. The Tipsy Taproom isn’t far. Let’s stable the horses there and walk a bit.”
Walk hand in hand alone with Cole at twilight? “I love that idea.”
Cole paid a few rutahs each at the Tipsy Taproom, and soon they had put up their horses and were walking back toward the wharf. Cole slipped his gloved hand through hers. He wasn’t one to make such a bold move, and it made her stomach tighten. Spying all the time made it terribly difficult for her to have alone time with Cole, and this moment felt like a victory.
The sun faded quickly, and the moon hung strangely bright in the twilit sky, its light mingling with the breathtaking glow of red and orange skyfire rippling across the heavens. Their boots thudded softly against the wooden planks as they approached the darkening expanse of the harbor.
“I don’t see any ships,” Cole said.
Mistel was about to agree when she caught sight of the shadowy outline of a mast against the dusky sky. “There’s one.” She released Cole’s hand and hurried toward the boat. “Let’s get a closer look.”
