“Well?” I say. “Are you going to give me your name now?”
“No.”
“We aren’t going to get far then, are we?” I sigh and shake my head. “Give me a fake name, then. I need to call you something.”
“Rumpelstiltskin.”
My instinct is to laugh at her literary reference, but then I realize she has actually given me far more information than she intended. Though a handful of children’s stories are shared orally within Naught families, Rumpelstiltskin isn’t one of them. Whoever this woman is, she’s had some formal education at some point in her life. She, like me, has been brought up in a Thaves household.
“All right, Rumpel,” I say, unable to hold back a chuckle, “where did you come from anyway? You haven’t been in this area for long.”
“What makes you think I’m going to answer your questions?” she replies, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Out of the kindness of your heart, of course.”
She snorts and looks away, folding her arms across her chest again. She looks back at me with one eyebrow raised, her expression stubborn and challenging. For some reason, the look goes straight to my dick.
In all the time I’ve been in this area, Ava is the only woman I’ve shared a bed with, but that has always been purely platonic. None of the local women have ever caught my attention, and my self-imposed function as the head of lost and found has put me in a position of being everyone’s friend. Neither the desire nor the opportunity has ever presented itself.
I can’t deny the attraction, but I’m also annoyed. I’ve become rather used to being treated with a bit of reverence around here, and her lack of answers is beginning to piss me off. I really want to take a swing at her just to even the score from our first encounter, but it isn’t necessary, and I would ultimately feel bad for hitting her without cause.
I feel a rumble in the earth below me. It only lasts a few seconds, but a few small rocks trickle down the hill as the shaking subsides. Clouds of ash follow the rocks, and the woman pulls the bandana from her neck to cover her mouth and nose. I end up coughing, and I’m reminded that I will need to get a new scarf as soon as the marketplace is open again.
The woman adjusts the bandana over her nose and then braces herself against the ground with the palms of her hands, looking around nervously. I listen carefully, but I don’t hear any additional activity in the surrounding hillside.
“That’s the third one tonight,” she says.
“Is it?” I only noticed two, but I might not have felt a minor one when I was in the tavern.
“They’re getting more frequent.”
“It happens,” I say, trying to brush off the topic as I brush ash from my pant legs. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”
“Maybe you don’t know what’s worrisome,” she mutters.
“I’ve been through plenty of quakes,” I tell her. “They come and they go. We haven’t had a big one in many years.”
“Maybe we’re due for one, then.”
“The closest fissure is hundreds of miles away and on the other side of the mountain range,” I say. “Even when there is a large quake, the damage in the valley is always minimal.”
“Maybe you haven’t looked at the other side of the mountain lately.”
“And you have?” I chuckle and shake my head. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve climbed the western mountain all the way to the top and looked over the other side? Do you really want me to believe that?”
“Maybe there are other ways of knowing.” She smirks at me.
“Maybe,” I say, emphasizing the word she keeps repeating, “you need to stop stalling and tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”
“I have no intention of telling you anything,” she says, pushing herself off the ground and standing over me. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”
“You were the one following me, remember?” I make a wide gesture with my arm. “Plenty of other people out there to harass.”
“You cost me a whole night’s take,” she says. “I owe you one.”
“And you cost me a rather sore jaw,” I reply. “Maybe we’re even.”
“Far from it. I needed those supplies.”