“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
She turned.
“You leave, there’s nothing stopping me from turning you in.”
For a second, she saw herself at the bottom of the Witch’s Well, slowly sinking, slowly drowning. It wouldn’t matter if she was innocent. Everyone knew once you were named as the possible Witch, your days were limited. It was every woman’s greatest fear.
But she refused to let Phineas see such fear in her. He didn’t deserve it. And he didn’t deserve her.
“Try it,” she said. She’d spent two years in his employ. She wasn’t the only one who had made the mistake of trusting the other. “And see what’s left of your business when you do.”
This time, when she turned, he didn’t call her back.
2
Nes
Nes walked the line between the Bark and the Ditch.
She passed several carefree drunks, their stumbling steps a dance whose music only they could hear. A couple jittery pickpockets, their fingers itchy with emptiness, tried their luck with her. She forcibly redirected them to the toe-tapping drunks.
Anger was an avalanche inside her, sweeping sense and reason away, burying all thoughts aside from those of retribution. She wanted Phineas to feel the burn of her betrayal just as she felt the sting of his. But she had to be careful. One misstep, one indication she was acting against him, and he could have her drowned. And she had more immediate concerns.
She stopped in front of the Northern Gate. The Walled Prison loomed above her, the great monstrosity an enemy she no longer knew how to beat.
The Walled Prison was legendary for being impenetrable. Split into two sections, it housed permanent residents in an inner circle, while the outer circle kept watch over the more fleeting inhabitants—everyday crooks and thieves. Because permanent residents weren’t allowed visitors, it had been years since Nes had last laid eyes on her father.
Her father had been a member of the Orlonean King’s Guard. After her mother died giving birth to her, her father tried to return to the Guard. But when Nes aged from newborn to toddler then to a young child, the Guard grew less and less forgiving of her father’s absences. So he’d left, knowing he’d be running for the rest of his life. For the only thing Orlonea hated more than the Witch was a deserter.
Nes and her father traveled the entire continent of Kreiena—fromLorut, the booming fishing town on the southern tip of Lusa, all the way up to Teese, the tiny town in northern Martou known for its lumber, stopping anywhere and everywhere in between. They’d run for eight years before the fateful day when guards had swarmed their small camp and carted her father away. After that, it had taken her two years to find him in Gadore.
She couldn’t lose him. Not again.
Turning her back on the prison, Nes took the closest street on her left, the dirt of the Ditch dusting up her boots.
She knew of several Ditch residents who would get arrested for petty crimes just to have a bed for the night. A year ago, when she’d felt desperate enough to try a similar tactic in hopes of seeing her father, she’d met Mikaud.
Lieutenant Res Mikaud, recorder of every name in and out of the Walled Prison, had a room on the top floor of an old boarding house close to the wall. Lucky for her, the buildings here were just as squished together as the rest in the Ditch, and getting to the window on the fourth floor was simpler than walking through the front door.
With one hand pressed to the corner of the house and the other to the wall, Nes hopped up so she straddled the two. A lightly sweet scent, filled with winter berries, flitted toward her as she climbed.
Mikaud wasn’t expecting her tonight. She enjoyed surprising him. Especially when he didn’t enjoy the surprise.
She’d once caught him unaware, holding a meeting with other guards in his legion. That hadn’t gone over well. But she’d also caught him unaware in a bath once. She could still remember the feel of the soap suds squishing between their skin.
She knew enough not to call the things they did love. No one mixed convenience into a recipe for love.
She hadn’t picked Mikaud out of a dozen prison guards for the way he kissed her senseless. She’d picked him to be her backup plan if Phineas betrayed her. Mikaud wouldn’t break her father out of prison, but he could at least give her the right cell so she could do it herself.
Shimmying up the corner, Nes climbed until she was level with the window on the fourth floor. Feet secure, she grabbed the windowsill and swung herself right into Mikaud’s room.
It was empty.
She noted the bare hanger on the hook behind the door, his uniform missing. He was on duty. No matter; she could wait. She eyed the smooth sheets and perfectly tucked blanket on the mattress. Maybe he would be more inclined to help her if she waited for him in bed.
Before she could act on the thought, the floorboards in the hall creaked, and the door swung open.
The light from the hall illuminated Mikaud from behind, casting his long shadow across the room. With blond hair that lay ruffled atop his head even on a windless day and a sculpted jaw, Mikaud was handsome. His King’s Guard uniform was free of wrinkles and crisp, the muscles beneath it pressed to crispness in an entirely different way.
