In the minutes before the magic wore off, though, she could finally think clearly.
She had to find an excuse to bring the bar of soap to her employer’s attention without making him wonder how she knew he wanted it. It was exactly the type of foolish risk she had taken in the last place she had lived, which had resulted in her losing yet another home.
No one wanted a telepath in their midst.
But if she didn’t do something soon, she was just as likely to give herself away by shouting at Mr. Ferman. Why was it that her erratic power always kicked in at times like this?
Sadie moved around the shop, looking for a reason that had nothing to do with magic to grab the lilac soap. The wide windows flanking the door let in enough light to make the space cheery and bright. Rather than rows of shelves, Mr. Ferman had dotted the room with circular tables, each waxed and polished to a high shine. A selection of expensive goods was displayed on every table.
Sadie studied the table with scented soaps and had an idea. Moving to the trunk in the back corner, she cracked open the lid and fished around until her fingers hit the rectangle of soap, wrapped in paper and tied with a bit of twine. She pulled it out and dared a sniff. No use finding the soap if it smelled as musty as the chest had when it was first brought in.
Mrs. Ferman must have been right that the lilac could overpower the other scents, though, for all she smelled was spring flowers. Delicate, yet diffuse. Sadie carried the bar over to the table that held the rest of their fine soaps and rearranged. She placed the two bars of rose-water soap in the center, with a bar of lavender on the left, and added the lilac to the right.
Mr. Ferman saw her and stalked over, his stride more powerful than his lanky frame suggested was possible. The magic she had infused in her amulet remained enough to muffle his thoughts, but his expression was thunderous. “Why are you messing with the soaps, Miss Winsel? Are you stealing from me?”
“What?” She stepped back, holding her hands out to show they were empty. “Of course not, Mr. Ferman. I was just rearranging the soaps. I thought the display would look better with a little symmetry, so I added the lilac soap.”
She wished she could tell him that even if she had been taking a bar of soap, it was justified after all the times he had made her work late without paying her for the extra time. But not only would such a comment get her fired, it was also the exact sort of impulsive comment she had to suppress to hide her magic. Talking back at Mr. Ferman wouldn’t betray her, but such a habit of free speaking would quickly lead to a mistake. Sadie had finally mastered that lesson three homes ago.
These days she kept her head down and her lips closed as much as possible.
“The lilac soap!” Mr. Ferman snatched the bar, then looked at the door, as if the baroness would walk through right that moment. Then he turned and faced her.
Sadie had the sinking suspicion that, like always, trying to help someone because of what she heard with her magic was ultimately going to make things worse for her.
“Miss Winsel, I need you to deliver this soap to Marstede Manor.”
“Marstede?” she repeated. She wasn’t sure why his request took her so off guard. She knew the soap was for the dowager baroness.
“Yes. Now.”
“But it’s nearly closing time.”
“Exactly. The soap must be delivered tonight. The baroness will be most displeased otherwise.”
Mr. Ferman had already sent the baroness—or, more likely, her servant—away without the soap. She wouldn’t be expecting it at all. But it wasn’t worth Sadie’s job to say that to her employer. She’d risked enough simply by pointing out the time. She needed this job. The only other establishment in Lamsdel that would hire her was the local tavern, and drunks and telepaths were never a good combination.
She bit back another objection and accepted the bar of soap, slipping it into the pocket of her work dress. She’d have to be extra careful on the walk not to snag or stain it, for Mr. Ferman certainly wouldn’t pay for her to replace the expensive frock, even while insisting she wear something that fit the quality of his shop.
The bell over the front door tinkled merrily, in direct contrast to Sadie’s mood as she left. She turned left out of the fine goods shop, aware Mr. Ferman was watching her through the front windows. She didn’t continue all the way down the road that eventually led to the local baron’s estate, though. Assoon as she was out of view, she slipped down an alley and snuck back to the tavern on the other side of Ferman’s Exotic Goods.
The walk would take at least an hour. Plus another hour back. Sadie was damn well going to buy supper to eat on the way first.
She entered the common room from the back door and waited. It wasn’t quite the busiest time of the evening in the tavern, but the tables were filling quickly. The tavern-keeper’s oldest daughter dashed back and forth, laughing with customers and delivering drinks. Finally she slowed, facing the back of the room, and Sadie stepped out of the shadows.
Pippa saw her and hurried over, wiping her hands on her apron as she moved. “What are you doing here? The shop isn’t closed yet, is it? Mr. Ferman didn’t fire you, did he? If he did, I’ll—”
Sadie placed her hand on Pippa’s forearm, cutting her off. “He didn’t fire me. But I wanted to warn you that I will be home late tonight. Also, I need something I can eat on the go.”
“Late? On the go? What are you talking about?”I wish she didn’t always speak in riddles.
Pippa’s thoughts tore through Sadie’s mind. The amulet had run out of power again. She reached up and gripped it. Her thumb traced over the glyph on the back, but without any water, her efforts accomplished even less than before. Still, as long as she kept tracing the glyph, ambient magic would flow into it in a sluggish wave.
“Mr. Ferman needs me to deliver a bar of soap to Marstede Manor. I have to walk there now.”
Pippa crossed her arms and tried to look down her nose at Sadie, though she was the shorter one by a few inches. “I don’t suppose he’s paying you extra?”
“Of course not, and he’ll probably dock my wages if he catches me dallying here.”
