I returned his haughty gaze. “I won’t begin on the path to my throne by forcing people into my service or asking others to do it for me. Maybe my ancestors operated that way, but the old ways are dead, if you hadn’t noticed. If you come with me, you come of your own free will, or not at all.”
He adjusted a buckle on the saddlebag’s flap, snugging it tight. “I understand, and I appreciate that you would give me that option, but I respect Justina’s authority, and I choose to obey her.”
“What about your family?” I glanced at the Charisvardo’s gleaming balloon and considered the household living beneath it. How it must have pained them to prepare for take-off, knowing they were leaving their son behind to venture into uncertain danger with me, an outsider and exile who’d, too often, found herself in the crosshairs of powerful enemies.
“If my journey with you is successful, they will be honored by my actions.” He set his foot into the stirrup and hauled himself up into the saddle.
“And if we’re unsuccessful?”
He held out a hand to Malita, and when she took it, he tugged her into the seat behind him. “If we are unsuccessful, I think my family’s honor will be the least of my worries.”
“Malita, are you sure you want to come with me?”
She glanced at me over Niffin’s shoulder. “What can I do? I cannot stay with them.” She pointed at the airships. “I cannot walk to Nri. I cannot get home alone.”
Unable to offer Malita an alternate solution, I set aside my qualms. I’d have plenty of time to worry about her while we traveled. “You know we’re taking a ship, right?”
Niffin patted his pocket. “Justina made sure I have the necessary supplies to perform my duties.” By supplies I assumed he meant money, which relieved me because I certainly had none to spare.
Mounted and ready, we waited at the field’s edge and watched as the Fantazikes lifted off, one by one, rising into the skies like shimmering silver fish gliding through a vast, blue ocean. We watched until they turned to distant dots in the sky, until the last speck of the armada disappeared and only the three of us remained. Adaleiz stamped a foot as if eager to get moving. Without a word, I pushed my heel against her side and clicked my tongue. Malita and Niffin’s horse matched Adaleiz’s stride and we sauntered away, leaving the emptied fairgrounds behind us.
Separated from the bustling, loud, and vivid Fantazike community for the first time in weeks, I felt alone and weighed down by trepidation. My heart seemed heavier than usual, as if filled with sand, but I kept my thoughts to myself, suspecting Niffin wouldn’t have much sympathy for my worries. He’d left his family before, tracking the bandits who’d kidnapped Malita from her village, but he’d known then he would eventually return to his clan.
This time there was no such guarantee.
Nothing I could say would make him feel better about our situation, so I sealed my lips and contemplated the long journey before us.
***
We reached Petregrad before noon and found the Burya, the small steamship on which Gideon had booked my passage. After purchasing Niffin’s and Malita’s fare, we led our horses away from the docks, heading into the heart of the city.
“So,” Niffin said. “We are to call you Liesl, now, if I overheard your conversation with the ship’s purser correctly?”
“If I’m going back to Steinerland, it’s best if I’m as invisible as possible. I have a feeling no one in Dreutch will be rolling out a welcome mat for Evelyn Stormbourne.” I glanced at Niffin’s distinctively colored eyes and thought of the crimson hair hiding beneath his broad-brimmed hat. The pedestrians around us noted him, ladies leaning close to whisper to each other behind their hands as they passed. Traveling with a Fantazike was like traveling beneath a spotlight, but how did I ask him to camouflage himself without wounding his pride?
“You must change more than your name,” said Malita, as if reading my mind. She gestured at my skirt and blouse and at her own distinctive attire. “Niffin and I will change, too, yes?”
“Buying a new outfit and accessories is on my long list of things to do today.” I pointed down the street at a tall marble building with a wide staircase leading to a pair of heavy, red doors—the Banka Mirovoy. “First, though, is to collect the funds Gideon arranged for me.” Although his note had told me which bank to visit, it hadn’t explained where he’d gotten the money. Either he didn’t want me to know, or he was protecting his source—possibly the same source I was on my way to meet in Steinerland. “Then lunch, then shopping.”
“Shopping?” Niffin said drolly, rolling his eyes as I tied Adaleiz’s reins to a hitching post outside the bank. “Not my favorite pastime.”
I gestured at his vividly colored eyes. “You’ll draw attention—you can’t help it.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you expect me to do?”
I marched up the bank’s wide stairs, and a doorman swung open one heavy red door for me while my companions waited on the sidewalk. Pausing, I glanced back at Niffin. “Have you ever considered the aesthetic possibilities of shaded spectacles?”
I ignored Niffin’s haughty snort and crossed the bank’s threshold into the cool, quiet interior. My skirts swished across the black-and-white tiled floor, and I pinned my gaze straight ahead, ignoring the inquisitive and arrogant looks from my fellow bank patrons. My attire was appropriate, but humble, and compared to the bank’s customary clientele in their expensive gowns and fine hats, I looked like a wren among peacocks.
After a brief exchange with a short, bald bookkeeper with a drooping mustache, I exited with a pouch of coins large enough to strain my skirt pockets and make my head spin. I wondered how Gideon had arranged to give me such a large sum of money. Who was our mysterious benefactor? Or had Gideon robbed someone for my benefit? I pushed the unlikely and unsavory thought aside. When it came to my stalwart protector, there had always been more to him than he was willing to let me see.
Once a spy, always a spy....
Gideon was like the wooden nesting dolls popular among Varyngan children. Every time I removed one of his outer layers, I found there were still many more yet to be revealed.
CHAPTER 3
~~~
With funds securely in hand, Niffin, Malita, and I followed directions the bank’s bookkeeper had given me when I’d asked him to recommend a reasonably priced inn. After handing off our horses to a stable boy, we set our saddlebags in our rooms, me in my own and Malita and Niffin sharing another, and met in the inn’s dining room for a quick lunch of thin pancakes with sour cream, pickled cucumbers and tomatoes, and fish seasoned with dill.
“What I’ve seen the average worker wearing on the streets of Petregrad,” I said, “is not so different from what I’ve seen the workers in Lord Daeg’s castle wearing. I think blending in as common folk is the best way to hide in plain sight.” Glancing at my distinctive, scarlet-haired companion, I frowned. “I’m happy to go into Steinerland alone, if abandoning your customs makes you uncomfortable, Niffin.”
He finished chewing, swallowed, and touched his napkin to his lips before answering. “I would not have you go alone. I would not be doing my job if I did. And the Fantazikes are more experienced with disguises than you think.”
“And you?” I met Malita’s gaze. “If you want, we’ll find a safe place for you to wait while I meet with Gideon’s contact.”
She flashed a smile and shrugged. “Where you and Niffin go, I go.”
After enquiring from the innkeeper about where to find local shops and markets selling the things we needed, Niffin left Malita and me on our own, promising to meet later for supper. We followed him outside and watched him disappear into the throngs of heavy traffic trundling along Petragrad’s sidewalks. “I hope he knows what he’s doing,” I said, my brows furrowing in doubt.
Malita flapped her hand in Niffin’s general direction. “He can care for himself. No worries.”
Frowning, I threw one last, doubtful look down the sidewalk. “We’ll have more fun without him anyway.” I turned the opposite direction and recalled the innkeeper’s directions as we weaved through the crowds, my fingers firmly laced through Malita’s to avoid being separated.
Several blocks later, we turned into an open-air market where merchants had laid out their wares—everything from cooking pots, teakettles, and horse tack to fruits, vegetables, and flowers. Vendors shouted, hawking their goods, their voices blending into a discordant jangle. Smells of cooking food, warm bodies, machine oil, and manure combined into a hostile, urban stench. I resisted the urge to pinch my nose as we pushed deeper into the market.
A clutch of dirty children in ragged clothes rushed past us, and the largest one, a girl not much younger than me, plowed into my shoulder. Stumbling, I yelped, and Malita clutched me against her side, holding me steady while I fisted my coin purse in my pocket. Niffin and the bank’s bookkeeper both had warned me about pickpockets.
