Thorns (18 page)

My attention focused on the quota yard, where a small crowd had gathered. A few people were crying. Apprehension filled my veins, and I stepped closer to try to see what was going on. Had the Watchers gotten another Fisher?

Footsteps crunched in the snow behind me. I turned. Leon, the blacksmith’s son.

“This is what happens when we don’t fight back,” he said, nodding at the crowd.

“What happened?” I asked.

He turned his pale gaze on me. “One of the Tailors resisted when the soldiers tried to take his quota. He’s been arrested and sent away.”

Another arrest. Another story of injustice.

“We are going to do something about this nonsense,” he said. “We have a plan.”

Their chaotic anger frightened me almost as much as the Farthers’ capricious cruelty. I sucked in a breath. “What are you going to do?”

“If you wanted to know, you shouldn’t have refused to join us.” And then he pushed his way through the crowd, leaving me standing alone. The wind swept over me, teasing the edges of my cloak and numbing my cheeks.

A hand touched my arm, and I jumped.

Ann
.

Had she seen me talking to Leon? Would she think anything of it?

We stared at each other. A thousand things simmered on my tongue, but I didn’t know how to say the words. My eyes burned, and my throat felt tight.

“The Elders’ gathering…” she said finally, making a useless gesture with one hand. “I thought perhaps you’d forgotten. But here you are.”

I managed a curt nod. She bit her lip and motioned for me to follow her, and together we began to walk in the direction of the Mayor’s house.

“Lia,” she began.

“Don’t,” I said sharply.

She dropped her head and didn’t say anything else.

We made the trip to the house in silence.

Villagers passed us in the streets. News of the arrest seemed to have spread. Their mouths were set in grim lines, and their eyes shifted from face to face. Everyone drew away from Ann as if she were diseased, and a few threw suspicious glances my way too. More than once I heard a whispered hiss—“Traitor!”

Ann walked with her head high and her back straight, although she flinched at the accusation.

I didn’t know what to feel anymore.

We reached the Mayor’s house and climbed the long flight of steps to the porch. Colored lanterns threw pools of violet and pink light across our path and made the trees in the garden glow. A servant rushed to open the door, and another took our cloaks as we swept inside. Warmth and light enveloped us as we moved through the foyer.

My eyes passed over the finery—crisp paper covered the walls, and a chandelier glittered above our heads. The house seemed even finer than the last time I’d been here. Every inch of the floors and carved furniture gleamed.

Several members of the Elder families hovered in the foyer, their cheeks pale and their shoulders stiff. I recognized them all, but I’d never spoken to most of them in my life. A Weaver and an Elder had little reason to mingle socially. But now we were all fish in the same bucket, as my father would say.

Ann brushed past them for the hall to speak to a servant, but I stopped by the staircase. My gaze strayed up it. I needed to get into the Mayor’s study to find my parents’ map, but how? Surely it was locked. And I could not ask Ann for help.

The sensation of being unable to trust my best friend felt like a knife in my chest.

“Lia Weaver?” a voice asked at my elbow.

I turned. A wide-eyed young man—Kirth Elder, I remembered—watched me. I gave him a wary look, half-relieved to make conversation and half-worried at what he’d say. “Yes?”

He might have been wondering what I’d done to be invited to such an auspicious gathering, but he only whispered, “Do I look as frightened as you do right now?”

“Maybe,” I muttered, less pleased at his observation.

“This whole charade is madness,” he said bitterly. “Dining with the Farther boots that grind us into the dirt?”

“And yet here you are,” I said.

Ann reappeared. “Let me show you to the kitchen, Lia.”

I followed her silently down the hall and into a vast, paneled room. Windows of stained glass let in streams of amber light, and a long oak table carved with snow blossoms and depictions of twisted tree branches filled the middle of the space. I’d never been in this part of the house before, and I gaped at the finery.

“The guests will dine in here,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “You’ll be in charge of serving food and filling glasses. I have a uniform for you in the kitchen pantry, and you can leave your clothes and cloak in the servants’ room.”

We exited the dining hall and entered a small corridor that led to the kitchen. Gleaming metal stoves and a massive hearth glowed with heat, and pots belched steam into the air. Ann found my uniform and handed it to me.

“When you’re finished,” she said, “you’ll receive your payment. Sugar, salt, and flour, and any leftovers from the meal you can carry.”

I eyed the platters of smoked fish and baked lemon pie, and my stomach pinched with hunger. I nodded.

She excused herself, and I found a closet and tugged on the uniform. There were no pockets, so I slid the lock picks Adam had given me into my braid as if they were hairpins. I returned to the kitchen.

A cook with cheeks red from the heat shoved a pitcher at me. “Fill the glasses,” she barked, gesturing toward the dining hall.

I swallowed a retort and headed back down the servants’ corridor. The pitcher was heavy in my hands. My boots made a smacking sound against the floor.

Music began to drift from the corner, where a trio of players plucked at the strings of a wind harp and played wood flutes. The soothing sounds did little to soothe me. In fact, the music seemed to mock my panic.

I drew in a deep breath and let it out, trying to stay calm. I began to fill the glasses as I glanced around the room.

I had to try to find that key to the study.

Where was the Mayor?

The doors opened, and servants scurried forward to hold them wide as the guests of honor entered the room.

The Elder families came first, walking carefully as if they were treading on broken glass. Officer Raine entered the room behind them, limping. He was followed by Korr, who slunk into the room with the grace of a cat. His gaze trailed over every face in the room and landed on mine. He smiled faintly, predatorily. I froze, my fingers curling stiffly around the pitcher, and then I rushed to finish my task so I could escape his notice.

A movement at my elbow startled me, and Ann took her place at the chair beside me. We didn’t look at each other, but I felt the knowledge of her presence seep into my awareness.

The Mayor entered last and spread his hands to indicate the table. “Please sit, everyone.”

The scraping of chairs filled the room. Raine took his place at the head of the table, near the Mayor, but Korr drifted down the length of the table and drew out a chair across from Ann. She stiffened. My stomach twisted into a hard knot, and I dropped my gaze to the table as my heartbeat beat staccato in my ears.

“Ladies,” Korr drawled, dropping into the chair and picking up his napkin. He looked at me and then at his empty glass. When I filled the glass, he picked it up and studied the contents as if he couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted to drink them. He smiled, and the corner of his cheek dimpled. “You betray your feelings too easily, Annalise.”

Ann sat stiffly, her jaw clenched. A faint pink rose in her cheeks, and her shoulders twitched at the use of her full name.

I lifted my eyebrows. His attention was focused on Ann with the precision and intensity of a stonecutter chiseling away at a block of marble.

“You’re far from your Aeralian compatriots,” Ann said. Her voice was both sharp and breathless, as if her throat had tightened. “It’s unseemly—”

“What’s unseemly,” Korr interrupted, setting down his glass with a thump and leaning across the table, “is the coldness with which you’ve treated me. I’m a guest in your father’s house, and yet you barely speak to me.”

Her hand trembled when she reached for her knife, but she lifted her chin. “Raine will be angry if you sit here. He’s looking at you like he wants to rip your head off.”

“He always wants to rip everyone’s head off,” Korr said carelessly. “It’s his reason for existence.” Nevertheless, Korr cut a glance at the officer, who was glowering from his place. He sighed and flicked an eyebrow at her. “Save a dance for me, Annalise,” he said with a smirk, and pushed back his chair to stand.

She let out her breath as soon as he’d moved out of earshot and pressed a hand over her eyes.

I sat silent, still absorbing the exchange. Ann bit her lip and fiddled with her napkin. Suddenly she bent forward, reaching for her cup. As her fingers closed around it, she turned her head and her lips brushed my hair. “Lia,” she whispered. “I must speak with you privately later, after the dinner is finished. Meet me in the hall when they begin the dancing.” Louder, she said, “This glass is dirty. Bring me a new one, please.”

I took the glass and returned it to the kitchen. My face was stoic, but inside I felt as if I were being pulled into pieces. Give her a chance to explain, or not? She’d betrayed me. She’d shattered my trust. But…it was
Ann
.

We began to serve the meal. I carried platters of fish and trays of nutbread and berry crème tarts from the kitchen and laid them on the table. Officer Raine reached for a tart right off the tray I held. He put the whole thing in his mouth, and crumbs fell onto his jacket.

Korr watched as if looking for my reaction, but when I gave none, he smirked and whispered something in the Mayor’s ear.

At the other end of the table, Ann watched me too.

Unease gnawed at me, and the lilting music from the corner plucked at my nerves like restless fingers. The key. The Map. Korr. Ann.

“Officer Raine,” Korr drawled. “Tell me about this problem you’ve been having with the local monsters.”

Raine’s lips thinned. He brushed his fingers on a napkin. “No problems,” he said. “Minor mishaps, perhaps, but nothing that can’t be fixed with some discipline.”

Mishaps? Was that what he called it? My blood simmered, and I had to clamp my mouth shut to keep from protesting. People were
dead
.

Korr leaned back in his chair and smirked at the officer. “What are you going to do, build more fences to keep them out? It doesn’t seem to be working.”

Raine’s face began to turn purple. “It’s a complicated matter.”

“And these malcontents I’ve been hearing about?”

Raine’s brow wrinkled. “Malcontents?”

“I don’t know what you call them,” Korr said, waving a hand. “They call themselves Blackcoats, or so I’ve heard. The whole town is buzzing about them and the messages they’ve been leaving on walls. Particularly your walls.”

“My men are dealing with it,” Raine said. He reached for his wine and took a gulp.

Korr laced both hands behind his head. “I hope they do. I wouldn’t want to have to give his Lordship the Emperor a bad report.”

Raine set his glass down hard. He looked ready to explode.

“Gentlemen,” the Mayor interrupted with an anxious smile, “I believe the meal is almost finished, but there will be dancing.”

Korr looked at Ann. She looked at me.

I returned to the kitchen, my mind churning. Ann still needed to speak with me. I still needed to find a way to get into the study.

The dinner dragged on. The Elder families muttered politely, Korr smirked, and Raine glowered. The Mayor looked ill. Ann stared at a point on the wall and ate without speaking. The mood in the room was as chilly as the mountain winds, but everyone pretended otherwise.

Finally, we began to clear away the plates. Servants began to dismantle the table, clearing the room, and the musicians stopped to fiddle with their instruments. The music began to play again, and a few of the younger Elder family members paired off. I watched unobtrusively from the wall with the rest of the servants.

Raine and Korr appeared to be arguing by their body posture, although their faces were flat and composed. After a moment, Korr broke away and approached Ann.

“I believe you promised me a dance?” he said to her with another dimpled smirk.

Ann gritted her teeth, accepted his outstretched hand, and let him draw her into the center of the room.

I shot a glance toward the doorway. Down the hall, up the stairs and to the left was the Mayor’s study. I could slip away without anyone noticing if I did it now, while they were all occupied.

But I needed the key. But where was it?

The Mayor stood by Raine, watching the dancers and sipping from his drink. He wore no coat to keep a key in. My gaze traveled back to the chairs that had been moved against the walls.

His coat lay across two of them. An Aeralian-style jacket, with pockets.

I headed for the chairs slowly, deliberately.

No one was looking.

My fingers touched the edge of the first pocket, and my heartbeat quickened. I dipped into the pocket with my hand as I shifted my position on the chair. Voices hummed around me. The music swelled. One of the dancers giggled nervously. My fingers brushed the bottom of the pocket.

Nothing.

Gently, I withdrew my hand and stole a glance around the room. Ann and Korr were still occupied. Raine was still speaking quietly with the Mayor. The rest of the Elder families were either dancing or standing together in clumps, glasses clutched in their hands and thin smiles fixed politely on their faces.

I reached for the second pocket, moving my hand in increments across the folded fabric. My pulse hummed. I couldn’t breathe. My skin prickled with the awareness that at any moment, someone could turn and see me.

I couldn’t quite reach inside, not without bending over…

I pulled out one of my hairpins and let it fall to the floor. As I leaned over to pick it up, I slid my hand into the second pocket. Cold metal met my fingertips.

The key.

I stood back up slowly, folding the key into my hand as I breathed out and looked around.

I’d done it. Now I just needed to get to the study and find the map.