Page 7 of Marked

Sley let out a heavy breath beside me, her gaze scanning the exterior while her mouth twisted down.

"How much did they take?” I asked. How could anyone steal from the community?

"Not enough to ruin us,” Sley replied, her expression pinched as she pulled open the door. "At least not yet. But they’ve taken enough to cause a noticeable strain if it’s a harsh winter. They must’ve been siphoning off our dry stock bit by bit over a long period of time. I have no idea when it started.”

“Jerks.”

“I have stronger words,” she said.

So did I. Following Sley inside, I paused at the entrance long enough to let my vision adjust. Slowly, the images of barrels, crates and boxes took shape and crystallized. Stale air with hints of grain, dust and leather floated by me.

It looked exactly like it had the last time I’d visited. "How did you figure out something was stolen?”

Sley pointed to the corner of the room where a number of grain barrels lined the wall. “Those used to be full, but now they’re only half-full.”

“I’m more of a half-empty kind of girl, myself,” I said as I walked over to the barrels.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” Sley said.

The seals on the barrels were broken, but that wouldn’t have been enough to give me pause. Most of the seals in here had been broken. We reused containers whenever possible. I wouldn’t have taken a second look at these barrels if Sley hadn’t pointed them out. Leaning closer, I inspected the broken seal. "They dusted off the lids.”

"That’s what caught my eye,” Sley admitted. "The absence of dust. Isn’t that sad? It was only when I looked closer that I noticed the broken seal and looked inside.”

"Smart. I’m not sure I would’ve caught the change at all.” I waved at the dust in the air. Something red in the corner of my vision snagged my attention and I turned toward it. A vibrant red scarf lay next to a barrel of grain in the corner of the room.

"This looks familiar.” I picked up the fabric for closer examination.

“Oh, it does.” She reached forward and ran her fingers along the silky fabric, her brow furrowed. “I can’t remember where I’ve seen it, though.”

“Could be a clue.” I shoved the scarf into my pocket.

"It could also be a coincidence.” Sley shrugged. "A lot of people have access to this place, including you and me.”

Someone cleared their throat behind us.

Sley jumped and let out a high-pitched squeak while I pulled my dagger from its sheath and spun around.

Blake stood at the entrance, the fading sunlight behind him casting sinister shadows over his face while dust motes danced in the air.

Sley stiffened and narrowed her eyes. “We’re in the middle of an investigation. What are you doing here?”

“I heard about the thefts,” he said.

“Who told you?”

He grimaced. “Everyone?”

Sley scowled at the messenger. “Is petty crime what it takes to get you to talk to me?”

He blushed and looked down at the ground before producing a letter from his bag and extending it toward me. "Sorry to cut your investigation short. I have a message for Emi.”

I recognized the queen’s seal from a distance and swallowed a groan. Stepping forward, I took the letter from Blake and broke the seal. “That was fast.”

“She insisted I run,” he said.

"Is it bad?” Sley peered over my shoulder.

I shook my head, though my stomach sunk as I quickly scanned the writing, the slant of the letters a familiar sight. "Just new orders.”