Land of Smoke and Ashes

Fresh Bread and Treachery

He glanced past her, and Natalie flushed slightly as he studied her face with dark eyes.

"Both of you?"

Kira nodded. "Please. We won't be any trouble. We'll just come in as your assistants and then you won't see us again."

Jethro smoothed one hand over his chin, frowning deeply. Natalie could practically see the wheels turning in his head. If they were seen with him and then went on to cause trouble, he could probably be arrested for being involved in something like this. Or worse.

But his face went from worried to fierce a moment later, and he nodded slowly. "Yes," he said. "My sister would help you, so I will. Be here outside the gates the night of the feast, meet me a half hour before it starts. If you're not there I go without you."

Kira thanked him profusely, pressing her hand into his, telling him to take her regards to his sister.

They regrouped back at the palace wall, sitting down at the booth they'd picked out. Kira seemed to need a moment to collect herself.

"I can't believe it," she kept repeating, and she twisted the fabric of her coat between her fingers, her face distressed. "I should have checked on her before now. She was one of my sources. I'm partly responsible for this. She trailed off, her face miserable, and Natalie reached out hesitantly to touch her arm.

"Hey, you can only do so much, right? The palace wasn't here until now." She paused, thinking about Devon and Jesse and the others. "Plus how many sources inside do you have to keep track of?"

"Lots." Kira nodded, blinking hard to keep tears back. "We have to have lots because sometimes we get found out, but still...I can't help feeling guilty every time something happens to one of them." She scrubbed a hand over her face.

"It wasn't your fault." Natalie leaned back against the black stone wall, and then sat up again, shivering. The black stones of the palace felt wrong. Like she could feel the dark magic radiating off it. If Jethro's sister had been punished like that, what might be happening to her mother? What if it had already happened? If the queen was trying to get information from her, the location of the key...

Natalie let the thought trail off, feeling queasy. It didn't bear thinking about.

This is why it didn't matter what Sam said, it didn't matter how right he was about being cautious, she couldn't wait around and just hope nothing horrible happened to her mother.

"Let's pack up." Kira climbed slowly to her feet, and together the two of them began to slip the scraps of fabric back into the princess' bag. Natalie was just jamming a long scrap of red silk into the bag while Kira held it open, when she saw the other woman flinch, and then quickly wipe her expression clean a split second later.

When she glanced over, she saw what Kira had been looking at, a group of black-coated soldiers were making their way through the crowd. None of them looked the way they had in the city, grim-faced and determined, like they were on their way to do something terrible. In fact, most of them were laughing and talking, and quite a few had their coats undone, revealing white tunics beneath it. A few stopped at stands here and there, and Natalie relaxed a little bit.

"Off duty soldiers," Kira grunted. "Less to worry about but still just as lethal if you happen to piss them off. I was hoping the queen wasn't going to allow them into the market this time." Her face was dark. "When we come next week, if one of them asks for a better price you give it to them. Never argue."

Natalie didn't think she'd be spending much time actually selling silk to anyone, but she just nodded, gaze still fixed on the men in the black coats. They were spreading out now, drifting through, as they got closer she looked away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. Kira did the same thing, and she began gathering the slippery scraps of silk faster, cramming them into her bag. Her jaw twitched, like she was clenching her teeth hard.

They both stiffened as a couple of soldiers moved past their stand, making their way toward one of the covered tents. "I recognize this booth," one of the soldiers, a tall thin man with bristly short hair was saying, "they have really good kassul bread here. "

"It's got to be better than my wife makes it," the other one said, and they both laughed.

"Buy as much as you can." The blond one lowered his voice to a mutter, but in spite of this Natalie could hear him clearly. Maybe it was the magic of the ring, because she knew her human ears shouldn't have been able to make it out.

"We won't be here long after the feast."

She glanced over at Kira, raising her brows. What is that supposed to mean?

If it had been Sam he probably would have forbid her to eavesdrop, but after the soldiers had slipped past the flaps of the tent beside them, Kira pressed her fingers to her lips. She reached back and snatched the last piece of silk off the table and then crept forward, toward the tent flap, waving one hand at Natalie to follow.

After a nervous glance back at the other soldiers, none of whom seemed to be paying any attention to them, Natalie obeyed. She moved as silently as possible, greatful for the magic of the ring, which did seem to lend her a little of the fluid grace the others seemed to have so naturally. They paused at the tent flaps, and Kira struck a casual pose outside the tent, holding out the scrap of silk between both hands as she turned it back and forth to catch the light. She bent close to Natalie, who realized right away what she was doing.

Any onlookers would think they'd merely stopped at the entrance of the tent to engage in discussion or argument about their wares. She bent her head toward Kira's, to make it look like she was examining the silk too.

From inside the tent the soldier's voices drifted. "There's no one bloody here."

"She must have gone out for more flour or something. She'll be back. Here, try this loaf, I had it last time."

There was the soft sound of shuffling as the men moved about inside, and then a deep hum of appreciation. "Gods, that's good."

"The woman here has the golden touch, she bakes it perfectly."

The other soldier snorted. "Gods, man. Don't go getting attached to anyone here. She'll be face down in her loaf before the feast day is out."

There was a dull smacking sound, and a chuckle from the same soldier. "Ouch, just because you got attached—"

"Not attached," the other soldier retorted. "But don't go running your fat mouth in public."

"There's no one here."

More shuffling from inside, and Natalie bit back a gasp as Kira seized her arm, yanking her roughly away from the tent. "Back to the stall," the princess hissed. "Quick."

They retreated to their stall. Natalie's heart was slamming wildly against her ribcage, and her mouth tasted sour. "What did they mean?" she whispered. "Are they going to kill her? Why would they say that."

"Oh no." Kira's eyes were wild, and far away at the same time. She looked as though she were thinking very hard. "No, I think the implication is much worse than that. I'm pretty sure that they're planning something worse. That she is." Her head swivelled as another group of soldier's passed, and she frowned. "We have to go, it's not safe to talk about this here. We have to report this to the others."