I’m then left with Mag, who’s glaring a hole into the side of my head.
“You need to be careful, Reva. It’s not just you who lives here,” Mag says sternly.
My gut twists again. As much as she barely seems to notice his existence, Mag’s always had a soft spot for my friend and roommate. The way he talks about her, it’s like I’m a threat to her safety.
He might not be wrong.
FRANNIE AND I ARRIVEat the little village of Port Yarrow just after dawn the following morning. She’s wearing her non-work clothes, dressed from head to toe like a black widow spider in humanoid form. There’s a long black veil hanging behind her head and a black shirt tucked into black trousers. My sealskin is pressed against my chest and tied tight, hidden by my thick winter coat, and the cursed safe is shoved deep into my pocket.
It means I’m sweating like an acolyte in a siren’s bedchamber when we reach the top of the steep hill that leads to the centre. We avoid the brightly painted main street, sticking to the slightly more grim alleyways instead.
Which is when we discover the first surprise of the day.
A figure sits huddled in the alleyway a couple of streets away from Kit’s shop. They’re sitting with their face tucked into their knees with long dark hair covering their face. Frannie and I share a glance as we step closer.
“Are you all right?” I call while Frannie puts herself between me and the figure.
They glance up, peering down the alley toward us. It’s a man. And as he shifts to a crouched position, I see he’s manacled with a thick chain connecting right the way around his legs.
He’s also wet, and his face is covered with a messy beard with straggly dark hair falling just below his chin. His eyes widen, darting every which way as they seem to struggle to focus. I take another step closer and his amber eyes snap to mine.
“That’s a thick chain,” Frannie murmurs to me. ”You think he’s one of King Wildrake’s convicts? Escaped one of the transportation ships?”
“Could be,” I murmur, keeping my voice just as low.
She glances at me and then back at the man, who is shakily forcing himself onto his feet. “Or... he could be a prisoner of war?”
“Which war?” I mutter back.
We’re supposed to be in peacetime. Although in these parts, it feels like someone’s always warring over something. Either that or they’re threatening it.
“We should help him,” I say. “We should at least unlock those chains.”
I don’t usually go around freeing convicts, but something about this man has my heart racing as the oddest feeling tugs at my gut. It almost feels like I’ve seen him before, even though I’m certain he’s a stranger.
Frannie pulls me to one side, dragging me a few steps back before stooping down so she can hiss directly into my ear, “Are you sure about cutting his chains? There might be a reason he’s tied up.”
“We can’t just leave him here,” I reply. “Not like this.”
I’m no bleeding heart, but something about him has my protective instincts rising.
“Fine. But if we wind up missing a kidney, don’t come crying to me.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
She approaches the man until she’s right beside him, and he shrinks back like he’s expecting her to attack.
“Thank you, Frannie,” I say softly, while the man stays silent.
She’s a secret softie, really. And that’s why I love her.
Once I’ve reached them, he shocks me by snapping his arm out and gripping my wrist. As soon as my skin makes contact with his, a jolt of electricity surges through me, like I just touched a live wire.
“Hey, hey, not so handsy,” Frannie says as she inspects the thick links of the chains. “Mercy me, they really chained him up like a dog.”
She squats beside him and sets to work, moving deftly to sever the chains with her fire magic before plucking a couple of tools from the pockets of her skirt.
“It’s all right,” I tell the man as I meet his wide, panicked eyes. “Don’t worry. She’s much better with tools than I am. Trust me, it’s her you want waving a hammer around.”
