I pointed a shaking finger at him as my other arm wrapped around my jiggling stomach. “Y-you look like a middle-aged accountant.”
Indeed, gone were the rugged, handsome features of his sun-soaked occupation, along with the eternal youth-like appearance. In their places was a man nearing fifty with a balding head of grayish hair and sallow skin that hung from his jowls like a dog. His fingers were short and fat, his belly slightly pudgy, and his clothing was a bland suit.
I pressed my palm against the coarse clothing. The suit did feel real. “Wow.”
Marc studied himself with a smile. “I suppose I should be grateful. This is more likely to get us in than other disguises.”
“Why? Because the rich need an accountant?”
He grinned. “No, because I look simple enough to fleece into buying port contracts. An easy target is always welcome at parties. You on my arm will only add to the false picture.”
I blinked at him. “Me?”
He offered me his arm. “You prove that I have coin to throw around.”
I snorted and accepted his arm. “Stop the flattery and figure out where we’re going to go.”
“I already have a place in mind,” he assured me as he led me up the steps. “I overheard a table at Adrien’s mention a gala at the mansion of one of the shipping masters. He owns twenty ships and four houses, and rumor has it he has three wives.”
“He can’t have that many?”
He chuckled. “Not if his first wife finds out. He has all the wealth, and she has all the family blood. A scandal like that would ruin his connections.”
“Then why does he do it?”
He winked at me. “You’ll find out when you meet her. Now let’s go before we miss the party.”
We ventured through the darkened streets, where a few people meandered their own way home or to one of the many pubs. Streetlights were few and far between, and many cast their light only beneath their curved necks. Alleyways were wrapped in pitch black shadows where faint outlines appeared more as ghosts than the broken junk they really were. We passed many of those long coffins, and I couldn’t help but stare into the void, wondering about the path untraveled.
I wouldn’t wonder about a particular one we passed. The houses had taken on more distinguished appearances, with balconies on their second and even third floors, and luscious gardens out front filled with fruit trees and flowers. Some had lit paths that led up to wrap-around porches grander than the most beautiful house in Rynek.
We passed one of the narrow alleys that divided a grand estate from another. A long, slender, glove-covered hand shot out and grabbed my arm. I yelped and jerked back, but they had a grip like iron. My attacker wrenched me from Marc’s unprepared grasp and pulled me into the shadows. Another gloved hand covered my mouth to stifle my scream as my back was pressed against a slender chest.
My kidnapper dragged my heels across the ground, and I heard his breath wheeze against the back of my ear. I thrashed in the man’s hold, but his thin frame concealed a prodigious strength that moved us quickly down the alley. Marc’s bright blue eye pursued us, and a faint glow came from the left side of his face. His accountant persona shimmered like broken water.
My captor pulled me behind a stack of crates and tossed me against the stone wall of one of the houses. He slammed his hand around my neck, pinning me to the stone as he held up his other hand in front of my face. The person clutched a gold medallion in their fingers, the face of which they held out toward me. A musical note was embossed on its surface, and a bright light came from the note. The glow only worsened the closer the medallion came to my face, so much so that I had to shut my eyes to keep out the blinding light. My own ruse flickered against such magic. The person raised a gloved hand and cupped my cheek in his palm. The hand trembled.
The boxes that hid us were toppled with such force that they were thrown against the opposite wall. My captor fled, releasing me from their tight grip. My shaky legs buckled, and I dropped to the cold, wet ground.
Marc was at my side in an instant, the glow from under his patch casting enough light to reveal my pale hands to me. They lay in my lap, shaking like leaves in a hurricane. He grasped one of them in his hand and studied my face. “Are you alright?”
“I-I think so,” I whispered.
Marc scooted closer and drew me against his chest. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “It was that phantom again. He. . .he held up some sort of glowing medallion in front of my face. I think it had a musical instrument on the side. Then you knocked over the boxes, and he ran off.”
He pursed his lips. “Did you want me to carry you home?”
I snorted and eased myself onto my feet with not a little help from Marc. “No, I want to go somewhere with a lot of people and a lot of lights. That way, I can punch the next guy in the face.”
“I’ll do the honors,” he promised as he nodded at the mouth of the alley. “We’re only half a block from the party. Stay close.”
“Gladly.”
Chapter 24
We hurried out into the main thoroughfare and traveled down the road for the promised half block. One of the larger houses was decked out in streamers and lawn lights, and a large crowd gathered along the walk that led up to the open pair of doors under the huge porch. The house itself was three floors, with wings that spanned almost as much space as the main body of the house. Every window on the ground floor was illuminated by light, and much of the upper floors were likewise a shining welcome to the well-dressed crowd on the walk.
