A Girl in Black and White (Alyria 2)

They both raised a brow.

Tuko started, “Sorry about wh—”

But they both had already blinked before crashing to the ground while I clicked my ring shut. Farah had paid up after supper.

“I hope you both wake up with the worst aching head you’ve ever experienced,” I said.

I turned, seeing the magistrate come around the corner alone. He froze, his expression paling as he noticed the men on the ground who were supposed to be securing his home.

I looked apologetic while I went to stand next to the frozen official, and considered Tuko and Steady on the ground. Beside me, the magistrate was stiff as a board, even though I stood a good five inches shorter than him.

I let the tense air accumulate before exhaling a little, tired breath. “We’re good, aren’t we?”

His hesitant eyes widened in shock. “Good?”

“Yea, you know. When I see you on the street, I wave—you wave back. That kind of good.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it, apprehension rushing across his expression like he didn’t know if this was a jest, but finally, hesitatingly, said, “Good.”

“Good!” I responded with enthusiasm, walking away. “Oh, and tell Beatrice I said hello. She could use the boost. A little extra heavy on the,” I tipped an imaginary cup to my lips, “this week.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving.

“See you around, Gerald.”

He didn’t respond, though I didn’t expect him to. I doubted we were “good” but I just wanted to clear the air. The magistrate wanting to hang me brought a stuffy atmosphere I didn’t need.

This was definitely not considered lying low as Agnes had told me to do, but I didn’t follow those rules. Not anymore. I was more than a Sister.

I was a Shadow, and I didn’t listen to anyone.

My trek to the palace took me through the square where the root of the festival was taking place that night. Fire-breathers, music, and dancing filled the area. My eyes caught on Magdalena across the square who was leaning into some sailor from the west, being as suggestive as possible.

I was sure the rest of the girls were dispersed throughout the revelry, deep in their cups somewhere, mourning their last couple of weeks as a single girl and not a pledged Sister.

I squeezed my way through the crowd, sometimes pushing when a drunken man or woman would bump into me. It felt like I was in a sea of clumsy people, and it actually looked like a lot of fun. Why hadn’t I come here to drink a Titan away?

My heart stopped when I saw a familiar woman in the crowd. The back of a dark head of hair. I knew this moment. You’re positive it’s someone, but when they turn around it isn’t. Even so, I couldn’t stop the urge to walk toward her, grab her arm and turn her around.

The woman’s brows drew together, eyeing me with confusion. “Yea?”

It took a moment before I could respond. “Sorry, thought you were someone else.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit before turning back to the woman she was speaking to.

I walked away, a numbness settling deep inside my chest.

It was her.

The potion shop woman.

I swallowed hard, unease creeping into my chest as I pushed my way out of the square. A woman bumped into me, and I’d barely felt it, my mind was reeling so fast.

The seal was playing with me, and that thought left my heart beating in anxiety waiting for the next time it would strike. As if it were a monster under my bed and I never knew when it would grab my foot next.

I practically ran through the palace courtyard, somehow getting past the Untouchables who only watched me, even though it was closed at this hour.

Some servants stopped to see me rush across the hall and down the corridor to the dungeon stairs. But before I could reach them, I plowed right into something hard and wet, the breath whooshing right out of me.