3

The man who just spoke is broad-shouldered and two heads taller than the tallest man in the crowd. His walnut-brown hair is swept back from his forehead. The crowd parts as he strides toward us, his head held high. The whites of his blue eyes aren’t jaundiced like the others’.

He is a gift, a wonderful distraction, a respite for my eyes in this shit-colored town.

I blink at him, forgetting for a second that I’m incredibly pissed off, in pain, and on my knees in the mud. Because, sweet honey in the rock , if this is the man who’s gonna save me, I’d let Johny capture me all over again. Not really. But still…

Gorgeous comes to a halt beside Olivia and rests his fists on his hips. He hasn’t escaped this town’s grunge. There’s a soiled bandage wrapped around his large right hand, and grime dirties the nail beds of his left. If he lived somewhere other than here, he’d be a dashing knight or a powerful sorcerer. Too bad he’s a no one stuck in a shit-colored town. He gives Olivia a hard look, and then he turns to stare at me with his brow furrowed in concern.

“What’s going on here?” Gorgeous asks Olivia.

“Jadon, it’s all a misunderstanding,” she says.

“Just another mess your thievin’ sister made,” Narder sneers. “Okay, Jadon. What wisdom will you impart to us lesser creatures today?”

I lift an eyebrow. Well, Jadon?

Frowning, Jadon rubs a hand along the day-old growth of beard on his square jaw. I can hear his thoughts directed at his sister. “Again with the drama, Olivia? Why do you keep doing this?” Then his eyes return to mine. “Poor woman,” he thinks. “Poor, beautiful woman . ” He clears his throat and points at Narder and then points at me. “Help her up, Narder,” he commands.

Narder grumbles as he reluctantly yanks me to my feet.

Jadon pivots to Olivia. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” Olivia says. “I didn’t hurt her. Really, this has all been a terrible misunderstanding and it’s gone too far now.”

“Then tell me about this misunderstanding,” Jadon says, giving me the “I’m here, so you’re okay” nod. His eyes skip over me to make sure that’s true. His gaze lingers on my hips, and one thought breaks past all his other thoughts. “Sweet Supreme. Even with mud everywhere…”

In any other situation, I would’ve wholeheartedly agreed with his assessment and cracked, “ Right? I am stunning. Thank you for noticing.” But I’m covered in dirt and chicken feathers, and Narder’s meaty hand is still wrapped around my arm. If Jadon wants a personal tour of my secret garden, he needs to first fix his sister’s mess. And then he needs to find me soap and clean water. Also, a few pastries, a cask of rum, and all my stolen belongings.

“I’m trying to explain, but no one is listening to me,” Olivia grumbles. “It’s really quite simple. See: this poor lady thought I had something of hers, and so we fought, and, well, I tried to run, but she fell on top of me, since it’s so slippery around here with this sudden shower, and isn’t it great that we’re finally getting some rain?”

“Okay, okay,” Narder says, rolling his eyes.

“Olivia,” Jadon warns.

“It’s all a mistake,” Olivia continues. “Really, it is. So I—I mean, Jadon —would like to drop the charges.”

Awed, I tilt my head. “You are nonsense.”

“If you only knew.” Jadon’s glimmering eyes catch mine before focusing on his sister. He’s a few years older than Olivia, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, but with the gray circles beneath his eyes, it looks like he hasn’t slept ever. How many “misunderstandings” a day does Olivia have that require his diplomacy?

“I’m sorry for this,” Olivia says to Johny and Narder. “Aren’t we just trying to survive? Aren’t we all just keeping our heads above water? Making a wave when we can?”

More nonsense.

“Olivia, you’re being ridiculous again.” Jadon pushes out a breath, then turns to Johny and Narder. “Even though Olivia is… Olivia , she’s right. The crops aren’t feeding the village. No one can afford anything, even food. I mean, really. Look at how pitiful this market is.” He gestures toward the sad collection of wagons set up in the town circle with the vendors still watching us.

On cue, a wheel on a wood cart breaks, sending withered turnips and wrinkled potatoes rolling into the mud.

Jadon shakes his head and looks back at Narder and Johny. “Everyone’s exhausted, which means tempers are running high. But let’s just take a breath and apologize—”

“Apologize?” I interrupt. “She stole my belongings.” I don’t care how handsome he is, he’s not convincing me that I’m wrong nor will I allow him to calm us all down without fixing the problem.

“Fine.” Olivia takes a deep breath, then slowly releases it, just like her brother did. “I apologize…Forest…Girl. I didn’t mean for you to suffer.”

“I still need my belongings,” I say, holding firm.

“What about Freyney’s cart and those broken vials?” Narder asks Jadon, ignoring me.

Oh. Yeah. That. I did knock over a few things before vaulting into the air and landing on top of a thief.

“And what about the public disturbance she’s caused?” Johny asks. “Everybody—especially you—should be celebrating. Cuz we finally captured one of theirs! And you couldn’t have missed that she’s standing here naked.”

Jadon makes a strangled noise in his throat, and by the way his mouth tenses, he already knows he’s about to stumble over every word he wants to say. So, he just says, “Hmm.”

Yeah, he noticed .

“We need those medicines,” Narder continues. “Are you willing to pay for that?”

“Pay?” Jadon barks, able to speak now. “Absolutely not! I don’t have money to pay Freyney, of all people.”

“Then she’ll work off her debts,” Narder says.

“What?” I shout. “I’m the one who’s owed a debt—a debt of my belongings.”

“Where’s she supposed to stay while she’s working off her debts?” the jailer growls, ignoring me again. “There’s no place for her to lodge. Not for her kind, at least.” He pauses, then holds up a filthy finger. “ Hey! I got an idea! She can stay in my lovely penal accommodations here.” He leers at me. “ Or she can choose to roost in my cottage.”

“Bed’s big enough for two,” Johny says, elbowing him, “now that Marget’s dead.”

I shiver as I glare at both men. “I’d rather sleep with dead Marget.”

Olivia flings out her arms. “She’ll board with us.”

Jadon and I both startle. He says, “No, she won’t,” at the same time I say, “No, I won’t.”

“There’s room in our barn,” Olivia says, nodding. “Good. Lovely. It’s settled.” She eyes Jadon, then turns back to me, beaming. “It’s settled,” I hear her think. “Now please shut up . ”

The guard points at Jadon. “You’ll make sure she pays Freyney all that he’s owed? If I’m just eyeballin’…twelve geld will make it right.”

“Twelve?” Olivia repeats, not taking her own advice and shutting up. “Aestard killed his father last week and had to pay only three geld.”

“His father was a blasphemous jackass and deserved to have his neck slit,” Johny spits. “Anyway, six geld for Freyney and six geld for the town disturbance. She’s disrupted market day, and now the wanderweavers may get the wrong idea—that we tolerate thieving, mudscraping Dashmala, that our people run around naked, tipping over carts and causing havoc. And if they stop comin’ here, we won’t get any fresh veg or good wine or anything else we need to survive. Six geld to Freyney, six geld to me. Don’t make me increase it to seven apiece.”

“But why is her price so high?” Olivia asks.

“Olivia,” Jadon snaps.

Johny bends until he’s face-to-face with the thief. “It’s the price she owes. And if she runs off, it’s gonna be the price you owe, and she’ll bring all of ’em back here, so I suggest keeping an eye on her. Otherwise, Narder and I will come looking for you to pay up.”

“We still haven’t addressed the fact that she took my belongings,” I snarl. “When are you going to fine her twelve geld—?”

Johny spins toward me, one of his swords held high.

I duck and prepare to be struck.

“Don’t.” Jadon doesn’t shout, but the guard jumps back and immediately freezes as though Jadon had.

My heart pounds in my head. I can’t feel anything else because I’m numb.

“Put your sword down, Johny,” Jadon says, a glint in his eye. “Now, tell me, one reasonable man to another. How is she supposed to earn twelve geld when no one in this village has enough money to buy food?” He turns to the jailer. “Narder, any ideas?”

“Don’t know,” Narder says. “But if you can’t figure it out quick, she goes to jail.”

My breath catches. “But I didn’t do anything.”

“Your handprints are still around Olivia’s neck,” the guard says.

The thief nudges Jadon, who has now closed his eyes and is pressing the bridge of his nose. His lips are an angry white slash against his face, and the muscles in his jaw tense.

I know simmering anger when I see it, and this man is simmering.

Olivia nudges Jadon harder. “Sweet Supreme,” she’s thinking, “say it so we can go .”

Jadon’s eyes pop open, and he growls, “Stop,” at his sister.

My heart races from the threat of Johny’s sword and the fear that Jadon’s about to say, “She’s on her own,” and that I’ll be dragged to the house of poor dead Marget against my will.

Jadon continues to simmer, and he keeps squeezing the bridge of his nose. But his eyes catch mine, and his face relaxes. “I can’t let them hurt her again.” That’s what he’s thinking. He makes an assured nod and says, “Fine. We’ll figure something out.”

And I allow myself to breathe.

Narder pulls me so close that I can see the pores on his face and the purple veins that travel across his nose. “You will pay off your debt,” he says to me. Then he whirls to Olivia and Jadon. “She skips town, you’re paying the geld. If I were you, I’d hold that ugly piece of jewelry as bond until she makes it right.”

I gasp. “That’s not—”

Johny whirls back to me, his scowl deeper than before. “Maybe I’ll take it. Melt it down and make me a spoon and some nails with it. You want that instead?”

I give the guard the smallest headshake. My eyes sting with tears as I imagine my pendant melting over some blacksmith’s fire.

Johny leans in even closer and jabs his finger at my chest. “You will attend the next Assent and ask Supreme for forgiveness. And when you’ve done that, I want you outta my town. We don’t want your kind here. Go back to those savages and butchers who sent you here to kill us and tell ’em we’re protected by Supreme.”

He pauses, then adds, “And if you don’t stop glaring at me with them wicked eyes, I’ll chop your head off.”

Wicked eyes. Fine. Sure. Whatever. I agree with Narder on one point and one point alone: I want out of this town, and as quickly as possible.

“Go!” The guard pushes me away from him.

Jadon and Olivia catch me before I scrape the mud again.

Fire speeds from my elbows to my lungs. I wobble out of their hold and try to exhale as that fiery pressure wanes. At least I’m free from Johny’s touch. A small victory. But now my possessions will be held hostage by two strangers. A bigger defeat.

Together, we watch Johny tromp back toward the crowded village square as Narder turns his attention back to that putrid prison.

The small audience disperses, hesitant to return to their scrawny sheep and carts of withered potatoes. The minstrel restarts his wandering and sings off-key to the strums of his out-of-tune lute. The sound of rain and geld patter against the tables. Everyone’s trying to find calm so that market day can carry on. The threat— me —has been handled. For now.

I once again scan the crowd, hoping to find Nightstar Sparkle, but she’s gone. So gone that I wonder if she ever existed.

Jadon points at his sister, teeth clenched. “I’m tired of cleaning up your messes.”

“I’ve heard it before,” Olivia trills and starts walking.

A lock of Jadon’s thick hair falls over his forehead. He’s coming undone. He runs a hand over his head to push it back and attempts to shoot me a quick glance. His breath stutters, I know it does, because his skin flushes and he forgets to finish yelling at his sister.

I raise an eyebrow and smirk. He’s having a hard time unsticking his eyes from mine.

Yeah, I’m sticky.

He stops trying to look away and chooses instead to walk backward, settling in, never breaking eye contact with me.

Oh. Shit. He’s calling my bluff. This time, I blink first. Heat blooms under my skin as I nervously flick mud off my arms. I sneak another peek. He’s still looking at me, and my face grows hotter still.

“Don’t look away,” he thinks. “Don’t look away. She’s still looking, yes!”

My heart jerks in an uneven stutter as our gazes hold.

Apparently satisfied, he turns back to Olivia, his scowl more relaxed than before, and I can finally draw a complete breath.

“You’re gonna get both our heads chopped off one day,” he tells his sister. “Now put out some buckets to catch the rain before it stops.” Without uttering another word to me, he strides toward the edge of the village.

Face still warm, my lips quirk into an almost smile. Look at him . All weary and worried, and above it all, all sass and ass. You go , Jadon.

Olivia rolls her eyes, then yells after him. “It’s too late for buckets, Jay. The rain’s already stopping.” To me, she says, “I really am sorry. We needed money. If you can’t tell, we’re not exactly thriving in this place. Just a suggestion: maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep in the forest next time?”

Her tone is almost kind, but her words still make me bristle. “Just a suggestion,” I snap. “Maybe you should try not to steal things that don’t belong to you. You’re gonna take from the wrong mudscraper next time, and you’ll suffer a fate worse than handprints left on your neck.”

Olivia raises her hands. “Got it. Understood. Never again.”

I hold her sincere gaze for a moment, then nod. “So, now what?” I swipe at my muddy pants, then glare at the thief standing before me. “Where am I? What town is this?”

Olivia sheds her wet cloak and drapes it across her arm. She waggles her eyebrows and grins. “Welcome to market days in Maford, Forest Girl. You’re gonna hate it here.”