With a wry smile, Felix said, “Be nice, Mar.”
“I’m always nice.”
They caught up to August at a pancake stall, watching with wide eyes as the woman poured a mixture onto a sizzling cooktop.
Agatha had worked the night market since Felix was a kid and had no problem serving wielders, unlike some vendors. She watched everyone like a hawk, and yelled at kids for being rowdy near her stall.
Marlow stepped forward, folding her arms on the edge of the stall. “Hey Agatha. Any news?”
“Same answer as last night. I don’t keep track of your friends, Eoin.”
Marlow winced at the name, but when Felix stepped forward with a bitter retort ready, she put her hand out to stop him.
“Now,” Agatha continued, “you keep crowding up my stall just to ask me questions every night, I’m gonna start charging.” She scooped the pancakes into a cone made from old newspapers.
After a quick, curious glance at Marlow, August placed three caern in the woman’s open hand and took the cone.
Marlow sighed and gave Felix a grudging look before pushing away from the stall. “Alright,” she muttered. “Try it your way. I’m going home to see if Ciaran’s back yet. Maybe he’s heard something.”
Aine’s disappearance felt different from the rest. Wielders moved on, and Felix could justify it. But unlike the others, Aine wasn’t at the shelter because of some sudden stroke of bad luck or because she was struggling to get by and needed a place to stay for a while. Like Marlow, she loved Hatha House. She had a job. Friends. She was happy. To think that she’d just leave without a goodbye was beyond anything he could put logic to. This was starting to feel big, and the need for answers was becoming a nagging tug, impossible to ignore.
“We’ll meet you at the fountain in an hour,” Felix said.
Marlow stole a pancake from the cone, then spun and disappeared into the crowd.
“Keep your eye out for Lady Farrows,” Felix told August. “She and her friends are regulars at the night markets.”
After shoving a pancake in his mouth and mumbling what Felix assumed was an agreement, he straightened abruptly, gaze cutting to the side. Something flickered in his expression that looked an awful lot like fear.
Felix followed his line of sight to the narrow mouth of a small side street.
“What’s wrong? What are you looking at?”
August snapped his attention back. “Nothing.”
It was a lie, of course. Always lies. The sideways glances at nothing, the brief tension in his expression. It was a regular thing with August, and Felix was getting tired of waiting for him to explain.
He knew he should drop it. He’d learned not to push the nobles, knew how awful the consequences could be. August may not have fit any of the categories, but Felix wasn’t sure if that was comforting or concerning.
Still, he couldn’t shake the furious curiosity.
“This whole mystery thing was fun for a while, but I’m beginning to take it as an insult. We agreed no more secrets, but you’re clearly hiding something. What is it?”
August scowled. “Why are you so focused on me? You’re supposed to be looking for your missing friend.”
Felix snatched the cone from August’s hand and jabbed it at him. “I’m not letting this go.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” August spat.
Felix stuffed the last pancake in his mouth and tossed the newspaper aside. He grabbed the front of August’s jacket and dragged him from the bustle of the night market toward the spot where his eyes kept straying.
“You know enough about me to have me executed,” Felix hissed as he released August. “And yet you refuse to tell me a damned honest thing about yourself.”
“I’ve told you plenty.”
“Youhaven’t.”
“I think you’re putting too much weight on me being interesting,” August said. “But I’m not.”
