Assassin's Heart (14 page)

THE NEXT MORNING I OPENED THE DOOR TO THE MAIL
office, and the sound and smell of pigeons assaulted my senses. The front of the shop was small, no more than ten feet wide and fifteen feet deep. At the back was a wooden desk, kept clean but scratched by long years of use. Behind the desk were cages and cages of pigeons. White pigeons, blue, green, all of them cooing and bobbing and making a racket. Small feathers drifted out of their cages and floated to the floor. I covered my nose.

I shook the handbell on the desk. A portly man with glasses and a balding crown stepped out from a side door. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose and broke into a grin.

“Hello, milady. What can I do for you today?”

“I'm expecting a letter.” Or at least Faraday had said he would send me a letter. I didn't have an address here in Yvain, so I had been checking the post office every few days.

“Of course, of course.” He pulled out a ledger book and
dipped his quill into an inkwell before he flipped to a blank page in the middle of the book. He scratched something into the ledger. “Name?”

I blinked rapidly. I couldn't imagine Faraday using my full name to send a letter, on the off chance it was intercepted.

“Miss?” the clerk asked, glancing over his glasses.

“Oleander,” I said. Maybe it would be enough, since it wasn't common.

He lifted his eyebrow but said nothing. Postmen took an oath. Any letters remanded to them were kept secret, as were destinations and origins. “I do indeed have a letter for an Oleander. Delivered yesterday.”

My stomach fluttered.

“Do you need it read to you?” he asked.

“No.”

He turned and paged through envelopes and letters in a bin behind him. He grunted and pulled one free, setting it on the desk. “Will you be sending a reply?”

I shook my head.

“Two gold,” the postman said. I widened my eyes, and he lifted his eyebrow again. “Is something the matter?”

“Two gold is a lot. Why is it so expensive?”

He shrugged. “Postmaster owes a debt. I don't set the prices, miss.”

Two gold would make a significant dent in my remaining funds. Most of the gold I'd brought with me from our stashes I'd left in Dorian's saddle packs. I had the Saldana stamped coins, but I couldn't use them. For one thing, they were
holy coins, not meant for spending. And I couldn't take the chance of anyone seeing them. Since Lefevre had found the coin I'd left on that murdered boy, I'd hidden the coins in my hideaway for safekeeping.

But Faraday might have information regarding the hunt for me. I couldn't risk not hearing from him. No. I had to bite my lip and accept the cost.

“If you can't pay now, you can open a tab,” the clerk said. “Pay your debt later.”

Debts again. It had to be exhausting being Yvanese and having to juggle debts left and right. How anyone remained in good graces with their god was beyond me.

I sighed and poured two gold coins into my palm before passing them to the postman.

“Thank you so much for your business, and stay safe from the ghosts.”

I took the letter and slipped out to the streets. The flecks of quartz and mica in the mail office's walls sparkled in the light of the afternoon sun. I took back ways and alleys to my safe house and slipped inside. It was almost too dark to read inside, but I felt safer.

The letter was from Faraday, of course, and I exhaled slowly as I opened the seal. His precise handwriting spilled across the page. I read his greeting:

    
They know.

My stomach sank. I scanned the rest of the letter, then realized I hadn't absorbed any of it, so fully had my fear overwhelmed me. I took a deep breath and read the letter carefully again.

    
They know.

I don't think they know who they're chasing, but they know someone survived their fire. Word is they're scurrying around the city like terriers tracking a rat and that they're considering a bounty on you. It's only a matter of time before they catch your trail. I would recommend you finish whatever business it is you're conducting as soon as possible and flee before they find you. Or someone finds you for them.

Expect another letter from me soon, with more information.

I will remind you it is not too late to return home, live a new life. I fear, though, that window will soon close and you will be committed whether you are ready or not.

I will pray for you, though I do not think She deals in the kind of mercy I'll ask for.

Yours in faith,

F

I crumpled the paper in my hands.

So the Da Vias knew I'd survived their attack. They must have spoken to the Addamos. But maybe the Da Vias didn't suspect it was me. Maybe the Addamos confused the situation and told them I was Rafeo. If they had counted and identified bodies, they wouldn't have found Rafeo's or mine.

But even if they thought I was Rafeo, that didn't give me much of an advantage. Perhaps they would be surprised when they discovered the truth, as Alexi Addamo had been, but it wouldn't change anything. They'd have to kill me no matter who I turned out to be, and I'd be easier to kill than Rafeo, who had been the best of us.

I was running out of time.

I leaned back against the wall of my space, trying to calm the fear and anxiety that had crept over me after Faraday's letter.

A thump came from above. I jerked my stiletto from my boot and scrambled to my feet.

Alessio peered down at me from the hole in the ceiling, an amused expression on his face. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

I resheathed my stiletto, trying to decide if I was embarrassed. Clearly I was on edge from Faraday's letter, but I'd rather overact to nothing than underreact to an actual threat.

He dropped through the hole, dust puffing around his boots. He was dressed in green trousers and a matching vest covering a loose-fitting linen shirt, his pendant resting against his chest. He looked clean, freshly washed, with his hair pulled back tightly in a tail and the short beard on his
chin neatly trimmed.

Alessio looked me up and down, taking in the same stained dress I'd been wearing, and tried to hide a grin. He turned and examined my space, the empty floors, my saddle-blanket bed, my bags of weapons and supplies. Everything I owned, except for Butters stabled at the monastery.

“Is this where you've been staying?” he asked.

“And?” I snapped.

“Nothing. Four walls are always better than none once the ghosts come out.”

“What are you doing here, Alessio?”

“Les,” he corrected. “I want to show you something. And we can get some food on the way. My treat.”

This was the second time he was giving me food. Third if I counted the stolen fruit. “Are you courting me?”

He smiled, that ridiculous crooked smile of his. “Do you want me to court you?”

I stiffened. “Les . . .”

He held up his hands. “Lea, I simply want to make your stay here in Yvain easier. That's it. If you're not at your best, then your training won't be your best either. I'm sure you're starving, and honestly, I could use the company.”

“Are you going to show me how to make the timed bomb?”

He at least had the decency to feel embarrassed, judging by the way his throat turned red. “No, we can't during the day.”

I glared at him. He had to be delaying things. I didn't know why, but I couldn't trust him.

“We had a deal,” I said. This was taking too long. I hadn't accomplished anything yet, and Faraday's letter urged me to hurry. I couldn't spend any more time here.

“I know. We can work on it tomorrow night.”

“Tonight.”

He shook his head. “It'll take me time to get all the supplies we'll need. But tomorrow night. I promise. Now, let's get something to eat before we starve.”

He was intentionally delaying things. I didn't want to wait another night here. I wanted to head home to Lovero. I wanted to kill the Da Vias.

For now, I would stay on his good side. If I couldn't get the bomb tonight, then maybe I could work on one of my other necessities. And Les was right. I was famished.

I smoothed the skirt of my stained dress. I desperately missed my closet of clothes. Each dress I'd owned I'd picked out myself, and they had been tailored to accentuate my good bits and hide the not-as-good bits. And wearing the same clothes over and over again just made it easier for Lefevre to spot me in a crowd. I needed a change, but for that, I would need more money. But there was nothing I could do about that problem.

I gestured to the back window. “Less chance someone will see us.”

We slipped outside, replaced the boards, and headed toward a city square. Alessio kept up a steady stream of chatter, pointing out landmarks and interesting facts of the city, and I nodded when it was appropriate and asked the
occasional questions to make it seem like I was interested, but mostly I was lost in my own thoughts.

It seemed so natural to spend time with someone, a boy, Les, in broad daylight. Val and I had hidden in the shadows, kept everything secret. Which had been exciting, but looking back, it had also been stressful, sometimes, and tiring. It would've been nice to have Val court me for real, to go out in public with him and not worry about who might see us.

It didn't matter. I couldn't be with Val anymore. His Family had destroyed mine. Regardless of how I felt about Val, salvaging our relationship was not possible.

That didn't mean, though, that I wanted someone else. I glanced at Les, his long neck, his large nose. He winked at me and pointed to a building where a priest had held off a dozen angry ghosts, armed with nothing but his faith, until the sun had risen hours later. Les was funny and kind, and he actually seemed to understand some of what I was feeling. But he also held the keys to the Da Vias, and I wasn't here for friends.

Les paused and handed a beggar woman a coin.

“Why did you do that?” I asked when we were far enough away.

“Because she needed the help.”

“But she'll probably just spend it on chetham leaves or something else.”

“Or maybe she'll spend it on food, or a warmer shawl, or to pay back a debt she owes so she can greet Acacius gladly at the end of her life.”

I turned away from his eyes and how they seemed to see right through me. There was no point to helping that woman. She wouldn't give Les anything in return.

“Here we are.” Les flourished his hand in front of a small street vendor, serving skewers of lamb. He bought us each one, and then led us away.

“Alessio!” a man shouted, and Les waved at him.

“A friend of yours?”

He shook his head. “No friends. Only me and the old man. People don't stick around.” He cleared his throat and suddenly seemed older.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Nineteen. You?”

“Seventeen.”

He nodded. “I'm sure you had a lot of friends left behind. You're just short of royalty there.”

I shrugged. “I learned very young they were more interested in what I was than who I was. Maybe they're hoping for favors from Safraella, or from a Family. Maybe they're more interested in the wealth and power. And even if they aren't, it can be difficult to keep any friendships because, try as they might, the common can't fully understand. My brother Rafeo was my greatest friend. Then my cousin, Jesep. And my suitor, Val. I spent a lot of time with him.”

He paused so slightly it was barely noticeable. “Suitor? You must really miss him.”

“No.” I brushed the sides of my dress. “He was a Da Via. I'd rather avoid seeing him again for the rest of my life.”

Les paused and watched me. His study made my nerves twitch, and when I was nervous I blushed.

“Was he there?” he asked. “The night of the attack?”

I stepped over a cracked cobblestone. “I'm not sure. I didn't recognize anyone. I didn't even realize they were Da Vias until Rafeo told me. I confirmed it with the king.”

Les tripped. “Did you say
the king
?”

I nodded.

“I was mostly joking when I compared you to royalty earlier. . . .”

“Well, any clipper can speak to the king. He's a disciple of Safraella too. And my father and Costanzo Sapienza were good friends since childhood. My father helped put him on the throne.”

Les nodded, his eyes wide as he took this in. “How would a relationship with another clipper work? I thought the Families were all at war with one another.”

“Some of the Families have good relationships. Gallo and Zarella, for example.”

“But weren't you always worried your suitor Val was planning something?”

I blinked. “In hindsight maybe I should've been more worried. But I'd known Val my whole life and we shared a territory, Ravenna, so there was overlap.” I picked a speck of lint off the sleeve of my dress. “No one knew about us. We kept it secret. There was no love between the Saldanas and Da Vias.”

Alessio tugged on the pendant resting on his chest and led
me down another side street. “But what about that saying I've heard . . . ‘Family over family.' Doesn't that mean you really
should
fraternize with each other?”

“Mm.” I pushed my hair behind my ears. “What that means is you put your clipper Family before your blood family. So if your father tells you one thing, and the head of the Family tells you another, you do what the head tells you.”

“That seems backward.”

“Everything we have is due to Family. My status doesn't come from being the daughter of Dante and Bianca. It comes because I'm a member of the Saldana Family. Anyone who joins us, through birth or marriage or adoption, is named Saldana. That's Family. That is more important than blood ties. It has to be if we're to survive the way we have for generations.”