A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

“Lovely,” I muttered.

“It gets worse,” she said, and I wasn’t sure how. “At some point, the father entered the business of selling intimate moments—”

“The sex trade?” I clarified for her.

“Yes, that is one way of saying it when the person is actually willing to trade time with their intimate parts for coin, protection, shelter…or whatever. But he was the type to make others willing,” she corrected. And, yes, she was right. It did get worse. “Which is also why the Mistresses of the Jade are very displeased with this man. As you know, they are not fans of those types of peddlers.”

No, the courtesans were not fans of anyone being forced into the trade they’d entered into willingly.

“The girl who was given over to Lady Sunders has a younger brother, who is still with the father. The boy is in a very precarious situation, being forced to commit all manner of thievery to keep his father’s cups full. She fears he’s being made to agree to other unspeakable things in exchange for food and shelter—as was the daughter.”

I inhaled sharply, disturbed but sadly not surprised. Both Ezra and I had seen this before. Hardship could exploit the worst in people as they struggled to survive, forcing them to do things they’d never consider. But then there were those who always had that darkness in them, the ones who were predators long before they faced adversity.

“Lady Sunders inquired to see if my friend who has a certain set of talents,” she said, glancing pointedly at where the blade was sheathed, “would be able to assist in extracting the child.”

In other words, the kind of skills that Sir Holland had spent years honing for a completely different reason. “And why would that require me to wear something more enticing?”

“The father? His name is Nor. Lady Sunders believes it’s short for Norbert.”

“Norbert?” I repeated, blinking. “Okay.”

“Anyway, Nor does his business out of Croft’s Cross,” she explained. Croft’s Cross was one of the districts that the Nye River separated from the Garden District. Near the water, that quarter of Carsodonia was full of homes stacked upon one another with little space between them. The warehouses, pubs, gambling dens, and other establishments nowhere near as resplendent as those found in the Garden. Most who called Croft’s Cross home were good people just trying to live. However, there were also people like Nor, who could infect Croft’s Cross as easily as the Rot did to the land.

“He’s been keeping his son close since he can’t get his hands on his daughter,” she went on. “The only way to get into that building is if he thinks you’re looking for a certain type of employment.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“I would do it myself, but—”

“No. No, you will not,” I said. Ezra had a brilliant mind, but she had no knowledge of how to defend herself. Not only that, she was an actual Princess, even if she was often involved in things one didn’t typically find a Princess engaged in. “Give me a few moments.”

Ezra nodded, and I turned, starting for my bedchamber. “Oh, and do wear something you aren’t worried about getting…bloody.”

I stopped, looking over my shoulder. “There is no reason for me to get blood on any of my clothing. I’m going in to get a child. That is all.”

She smiled faintly as her brows rose. “Sure. That is all that will happen.”

Chapter 8

The plain, black carriage bounced along the uneven cobblestones. That’s how I knew we’d entered Croft’s Cross.

Sitting across from me, Ezra frowned over her shoulder at the driver’s seat where Lady Marisol Faber sat, cloaked and unrecognizable. I imagined she must be suffocating in the godsforsaken heat.

Waving a hand in front of my face, I knew I was. I wanted to unhook the lightweight, hooded cape and throw it aside. Tendrils of hair had plastered themselves to the back of my neck.

I had no idea how long Marisol had been assisting Ezra in her many endeavors to aid those most endangered in Carsodonia. They had been friends since Ezra’s father married my mother, and she came to live here. But I hadn’t become involved in what they were doing until three years ago. I’d only discovered what Ezra was doing when I saw her at the old fortress while leaving behind a bushel of potatoes Orlano had left out for me to do with as I pleased. When we spotted one another, we pretended as if we had no idea who the other was. Later that night, I’d waited for Ezra to return from her walk in the gardens. It was then that I learned why she spent so much time beyond Wayfair grounds.

I looked over at my stepsister, studying her. There wasn’t even a sheen of sweat on her features. Unreal.

“How are you not hot?” I asked.