by Janice Hardy
“And what can I do for you today?” the merchant asked. She smiled, but her gaze weighed the bag like she could guess its worth on sight.
“My aunt left me her silver and it’s all ugly.” I pulled out a few pieces. “Figured I’d sell it off and buy something nice for myself.”
The merchant picked up a candlestick and turned it this way and that, a slight frown on her face like it wasn’t the pure silver we both knew it was. “It is ugly.”
“You should see the forks.”
“You have the whole set? I know a woman who wants to get her mother-by-marriage an ugly gift.”
I slid the Verlattian teak box out of the bag. Her eyes widened just a bit.
“The box isn’t bad.”
It was better than not bad. The wood gleamed, the grain patterns rich and dark.
Aylin and Jovan passed us and went to a jeweler’s. Aylin had amazed us all last night with her tale of woe, about her beloved who died in the ferry accident and left her alone, and now she had to sell off all his gifts. How her mistress had given her a few trinkets to help ease her through this tragedy. She seemed exactly like a maid who’d snitched from her mistress’s jewel case.
The merchant ran her fingers along the wooden lid and lifted it. Silver sparkled in neat rows. “I’ll give you two hundred for the set.”
“The candlesticks alone are worth that.”
The corners of her mouth tightened for a heartbeat. “I’d say more like one hundred, maybe.”
I shrugged, feigned indifference. Inside, it was hard to stay calm. Two hundred oppas was more money than I’d ever seen at once.
“Does your boy there ever talk?”
“Only when someone’s trying to steal the fish from our net.” Danello folded his muscled arms and glared at her.
For a moment I thought I saw a smile. “Lucky girl, you. Let’s see, I can probably do…” She inspected the pieces slowly, no doubt trying to decide how much she could cheat us.
“But it’s goldstone!” yelled a familiar voice. “It has to be worth more than that.”
I glanced down a few stalls and tried not to suck in a breath. The rent collector was arguing with a vendor, waving one of the statuettes in his face. I forced my gaze away and hoped she was too busy to notice any of us.
“Three hundred,” the merchant finished.
“It’s worth at least six.”
She shrugged. “You can always sell to the silversmith.” She didn’t take her hands off the box though.
“Give that Baseeri rat my aunt’s silver?” I turned and spat. “I don’t think so.”
The rent collector glanced my way, then snapped around. She looked from me to the silver on the table, her eyes narrowing as if I were selling off her property.
Behind her, Tali and Soek left the art vendor. Tali started grinning as soon as her back was turned, so she must have done well. Aylin and Jovan were still at the jeweler’s, but the jewels were being wrapped up so they had to be close to a deal.
“How about five then?” I said.
“You’d be robbing me at that price.”
The rent collector stalked over. Danello intercepted, keeping her a stride’s length away.
“What are you doing?” she asked, pointing at me. “What are you selling? Are your little friends here?” She spun around. “There’s one! Where are the others?”
The merchant frowned and pulled her hands off the silverware box. “Perhaps now isn’t the best time.”
“Now is fine,” I said quickly. “Nothing to worry about.”
Danello had the rent collector by the arms, but she wouldn’t stay quiet. “I could have turned you in and I didn’t! You owe me!”
My guts twisted. “Shall we split the difference and say four?”
The merchant’s attention was on the rent collector now, her brow furrowed as if she were thinking hard. Then she looked at me.
Please, Saint Saea, don’t let her recognize me.
Aylin had fluffed my curls so my head looked bigger than the poster, and lined my eyes and cheeks with powders to make me look older.
“Do I know you?”
“No.”
“Those are mine.” The rent collector surged past Danello and grabbed at the silver.
“They are not!” I snatched them away just in time, but the merchant was backing off, worry on her plump face. A crowd had gathered, some watching in boredom, others probably waiting to see if we’d start fighting and drop something.
“Don’t try to cheat me, Shifter, or you’ll be sorry!”
I gulped. The merchant gasped.
“You’re the girl from the posters!”
“Deal’s off.” I threw the silverware box into the air as Danello shoved the rent collector into the crowd. She fell, knocking over a few people, and money and silver hit the street. Cries of alarm and joy rose, and no one seemed to care about me anymore.
I headed for the bakery, walking fast but not running. Soldiers patrolled these streets, and while the vendors paid them to walk past the alley market, they had no trouble stopping anyone who came out of it at a run. “Anyone following?”
“Don’t think so. The merchant wouldn’t leave her stall unattended. I don’t think the others heard the rent collector call you Shifter.”
I could only hope.
We ducked onto a porch and crouched down behind the railing. The bakery was across the street, but I didn’t want to go inside if we were being followed.
“Wait, someone just left the alley,” Danello said. “A boy, nineteen, maybe twenty. I think he’s looking for something.”
I peeked above the railing. Danello was mostly right, but the boy wasn’t just looking for something, he was looking out for something as well.
Angry shouts came from the alley market. A patrol came down the street, their steps hesitant as if they weren’t yet sure if they wanted to get involved. The boy dropped and tied his sandals, even though he had no sandals to tie.
“He’s hiding from the soldiers,” I whispered. “If he was after me, he wouldn’t do that.”
“What’s he looking for then?”
I held my breath as the soldiers walked closer to the kneeling boy. I recognized that tenseness, that fear, that desperate praying that they wouldn’t notice you.
A woman screamed and the soldiers ran for the alley, passing the boy by a few feet. He stayed down for a second more, then jumped up. He stood in the street, turning slowly, his face pale.
“Shifter?” he whisper-yelled. “Are you out here? I need your help. Please, we’re in trouble.”
I started to rise and Danello pulled me down. “You can’t risk it.”
“What if he’s a Taker?”
“What if he’s a trap?”
I looked again. “He’s too scared to be a trap.”
“Let me approach him then. You stay here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, just hopped up and walked over. The boy startled and stepped back, but he steadied himself like he expected Danello to attack him. They spoke for a minute, then Danello scanned the street.
“It’s okay,” he called.
I came out of hiding.
“You were right,” Danello said. “His sister is trapped at the docks. Trackers are after her.”
“You have to save her, please,” the boy said. “I was in the alley trying to buy a weapon so I could attack the trackers and I heard that woman call you Shifter. The Takers, the ones who are hiding with us, were all talking about you. Some say you can help us.”
I’d never faced a tracker before. Guards and soldiers were one thing, but trackers were trained to hunt down Takers. We’d been far too lucky avoiding them so far. I should have known that luck wouldn’t last.
“Where is she?” I asked against all better judgment. But turning your back on trouble only let it sneak up on you.
“On berth three. By the traps.”
Rows of traps littered berth three: fish traps, crab traps, duck traps, probably some mouse and rat traps. The whole plac
e was one stinky maze.
“Which traps?”
He pushed both hands through his brown hair. “I…uh…I’m not sure. When we saw them, we started running.”
Running? No wonder she caught their attention.
“I think there were at least four of them,” he said. “Maybe more.”
Four trackers? Saea be merciful.
“We’ll need help to get her,” I said. Danello hadn’t spoken, but he didn’t look any happier about it than I did. “Follow us.”
I headed into the bakery. The others were all there, looking worried. Tali had mango cream filling all over her mouth but didn’t seem to be enjoying it. Aylin shot me her oh-Nya-what-did-you-do-now? look. “What happened?”
“The rent collector saw me and caused a fuss, but we got away. This boy’s sister is trapped on the docks. Trackers are after her.”
“What’s the plan?” Aylin asked.
“She’s on berth three. We’ll split up and look for her,” I said.
“We’ll signal if we find her,” Danello said. “Three caws, then two, like we practiced.”
“Got it.” Tali nodded.
“No,” I said. “You’re going to the town house with Soek and Jovan.” All three started arguing and I waved my hands to quiet them. “Listen, the rent collector is probably going to tell the soldiers about me, so the town house isn’t safe anymore. You three need to get everyone out and head right to Barnikoff’s.” He’d be surprised when they showed up, but we didn’t have a choice. “It’s go now or get caught.”
Tali folded her arms. “I’m not leaving you.” Her eyes teared up and she leaned in closer. “If they catch you, we’ll be separated again. I’d rather be caught with you than all alone.”
I pictured Tali on her own, trying to find food, avoid soldiers. Stay alive. “Okay, but you do exactly as I say and stay close.”
“I will.”
I turned to the others. “Let’s go.”
We left the bakery and hurried to the docks, the sun already beating down on our heads. Aylin and I headed into the maze while Danello and the boy followed the outside paths. A few paces ahead a lake gull squawked and took flight, its white feathers stark against the brown and green of the crab traps rising like cliffs around us. Lake gulls usually spooked at things they thought might eat them—and these days that meant people as often as crocodiles. I dropped and Aylin and Tali dropped with me, taking cover behind a drying rack.
Footsteps shuffled about thirty feet behind us. Slow, steady, cautious. Too heavy for a scared girl, but not heavy enough for a dock worker. Then another set of footsteps. Maybe these trackers were working in pairs—one flushed the prey and the other caught it.
I gestured at Aylin to sneak around and try to see who the footsteps belonged to. She nodded and crept along the stacks.
Footsteps again, then—
Polished boots and dark trousers stepped into view. A tracker! I heard a scraping sound, like a weapon being drawn.
“Come out, come out—we know you’re here,” a woman called, her voice cold yet teasing.
My heart raced. I looked for Aylin, but she was no longer in the tight walkway. Tali’s eyes were wide, but she stayed low and silent.
I peeked between the traps for a better look at the woman. She turned a slow circle, her hand out in front of her. I tiptoed away from the tracker until I reached the end of the row and ducked behind a dock shed. If the trackers kept moving forward, I could—
Sniff.
I turned toward the sound, my feet ready to bolt the other way. The boy’s sister! She was about my age, but small as Tali. She’d wedged herself under a cleaning table at the edge of the dock about fifty feet away.
Waves sighed against the canal walls and hissed through the reeds growing along the boat-launching ramps. The tracker stood by the closest ramp, a blue-black pynvium rod in her hand. Much better than a sword. As long as she didn’t use it on anyone but me.
I turned to Tali and pointed to a dinghy leaning against a post.
She nodded.
A fake gull cried out—three caws, close. Aylin was probably on the other side of the sister. I cawed back twice. The tracker turned away and I darted across the row, slipping under the dinghy. Tali slipped in behind me a breath later.
The tracker moved away from the launching ramp, narrowing the distance between her and the girl. Danello slipped behind the tracker, darting across the row. The brother had to be there, though I didn’t see him. I hoped he didn’t do anything reckless to help his sister.
The tracker stiffened and turned as if she’d heard us.
I left Tali and moved closer, testing each footstep before settling my weight down on the bleached planks of the dock.
Movement under the cleaning table caught my eye. The sister leaned forward as if about to run, terror on her face. I shook my head and she sat back.
Creak.
I froze. The tracker snapped around and raised her pynvium weapon. She glanced at the traps and pulled a knife from her boot as well.
Creak.
The tracker followed the sound, her head cocked, her weapons ready.
The sister gasped, soft as a splash. I held up my hands and mouthed, Stay. She nodded.
The tracker was right on the other side of the traps from me. She took another cautious step in her shiny black boots and then stopped.
She narrowed her eyes. She cocked her head again and stepped closer to the wall of crab traps separating us.
Had she sensed me?
Jeatar had warned me about that before he’d left Geveg. “The Duke will hire the best trackers to come after you. The ones who can sense a Taker like a Taker senses pynvium. The good ones can sense a Taker just by walking by.”
If she’d sensed us from this distance, she was really good.
“Come out, come out, little girl,” she called louder.
I held my breath. Light drops of sweat dotted her brow and upper lip. Was she scared? If so, maybe I could catch her off guard, give the others time to move in and the sister time to move out.
“I know you’re here,” the tracker called. She held up one hand, inches away from the traps hiding me, as if she could feel me behind the wood. “Is that you, Shifter?”
I swallowed my gasp. She had to be guessing. She couldn’t possibly know it was me.
“I’ll leave the girl alone if you show yourself. You’re a much better prize for the Duke than she is.”
The dock creaked again. Aylin or Danello?
“You can’t evade me for long, Shifter,” the tracker said in that irritating singsong voice.
Maybe not, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
“You can’t run,” she continued. “We have guards on every bridge off every isle. Soldiers at all the pole-boat docks. If I don’t get you, one of my men will.”
Men? Since when did trackers hire others to help them?
I caught another glimpse of the tracker through the holes in the traps, then she was gone.
“Got you.”
FOUR
I gasped and spun. The tracker had a pynvium rod in her hand. She flicked her wrist and—
Whoomp.
Pain flashed from it, stinging my skin like blown sand. She gaped at me, shocked that I hadn’t collapsed to the ground screaming in pain. I guess they hadn’t figured out everything about me yet.
Something thumped against the traps around me. They clattered forward, spilling over the tracker like trash thrown from a window.
“Looks like I got you,” Aylin said, heaving an armful of nets at her.
“Vyand?” a man yelled.
“Her—” she began.
I dumped more nets over her and cawed three times. Two more caws answered right away. The tracker was quiet for only a moment, then started screaming and thrashing about.
“Tangle her up,” I said.
Aylin helped me truss her up in the nets like a chicken on All Saints’ Day. The tracker’s screams turned to angry
squeals and curses.
The boy ran to his sister and dragged her from the nook. Danello popped out from behind the traps. “More trackers are headed this way,” he said, pointing over his shoulder.
We left, staying low and moving as fast as we dared.
I slowed as we neared North-Dock Bridge, checking the crowded street for the guards the tracker claimed were on all the bridges. Dozens of haulers and day workers shuffled between the docks and the production district on the main isle, but none of them looked like guards.
We crossed the bridge slowly, moving with refugees and workers. On the other side of the bridge, I angled to the canal side of the street so we wouldn’t draw attention from some soldiers hassling a family of squatters.
“Danello, Aylin,” I said, “drop behind and check for anyone following.”
“Got it.”
Aylin vanished into the crowd, light on her feet as the wind, Danello less so, but he was getting better at it.
A refugee jostled me. I turned, glad for the excuse to look behind us. A block away, two men walked side by side. Their clothes said poor, but they didn’t glance at the soldiers or shy away when anyone walked close. Their dark hair was neatly trimmed and neither wore a beard. People that nondescript were usually the ones you had to watch out for. Danello and Aylin were about twenty feet behind them, walking on opposite sides of the street.
A burned smell drifted over the bridge as we crossed into what used to be a Baseeri-occupied neighborhood. Most of it had been burned in the riots a few months ago, right after the old Luminary had claimed Geveg’s Healers were all dead. Well, that and me proving the Luminary had been lying and was really trying to steal the League’s pynvium. No one had been happy about that.
They’d gone mad, attacking the League, burning down Baseeri-owned shops and homes, giving the Governor-General an excuse to send in his soldiers and a legitimate reason to hurt us.
I looked at the Healers’ League rising above the other buildings in the distance. The gaping hole where the Luminary’s office had been was a sharp reminder of why the trackers were after me.
What’s done is done and I can’t change it none.
“Nya?” Tali said, looking at me funny. “Why are we slowing down?”