Page 109 of To Kill a King
Rhythmic thumping started against the far wall.
She paled. By the Seven Gods. Could the ground swallow her now? Jutting her chin forward, she ignored the flush that spread across her face.
“I see,” he said. “Stay there, nice and comfortable in your whorehouse. Brooks will find you shortly.” He turned away, fading into thin air.
“Not if I get to you first,” she swore to the empty room.
The next morning, Aliya found her clothing, washed, pressed and lying on the floor outside her door. She’d expected the servants to throw them away and replace the outfit with those gaudy silks. Or worse, clothes like the lady with the peacock feathers had worn.
Ugh. She shuddered.
There was no way she was going through the front door to this building again, even if people already knew she stayed here. She narrowed her eyes at the folded paper, still on the tray with her dinner dishes.
She should contact Jalius in the same shape he'd seen her in before. Or would it make a difference? He knew she took lodgings here, so he must be aware of her appearance.
It would be safest to meet the gnome in her primary form, on the off chance he wasn't acquainted with her disguise. If he brought anyone, it would be better if they met her, the queen, rather than having to come up with an explanation as to why she didn't appear as expected. The last thing she needed right now was to erode the trust of potential allies.
Calling up the image of herself with blonde hair and sun-kissed skin that served as her favorite shape, she shifted.
A few minutes later, she climbed out the tiny window and shimmied her way to the alley.
Her boots splashed down into a puddle of what she hoped was leftover bathwater but stank of piss.
Yuck.
Painted on the wall below her room in red paint were the words Free the Mages!
Licking her lips, she tore her eyes away and pulled her cloak over her head before stepping into the street. At least the Mage Underground seemed to be alive and well.
The streets were busy. She stopped a passer-by for directions to the market.
On the other side of town. Go figure.
She bought a meat pie for breakfast with a few coppers. Her purse was far too light. Perhaps last night's luxury had been a mistake. She needed another bedroll, too. Sleeping outside without one was decidedly uncomfortable.
The bazaar was packed. Vendors hawked their wares in a huge circle around the plaza. Shoppers, street children and laundresses sat on the edge of the domineering fountain in the middle of the square, going about their business.
A little ramshackle stand with some nearly rotten apples and cabbages occupied space four, sandwiched between a cloth merchant and a jeweler. Aliya's eyes kept straying to the glitter and sparkles of the other vendor booths.
Forcing herself to ignore the jeweler's welcoming smile, she knocked on the wooden slats of the display table.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
The curtain over the back wall shifted. A knobby nose and set of eyes peeked out. Teeth flashed in the gloom as the fabric tore aside. Jalius blinked and smiled.
“Ah, yes. Please, come in, come in.” He waved his hand, beckoning her inside.
The cramped space behind the stall was dark. A hole with a rung ladder descending into shadows dominated the room.
“Your Majesty, welcome, welcome. Come in, follow me. This is not a safe place to talk.”
He disappeared into the abyss.
Aliya stared after him. Somehow, the chaos of the streets seemed much safer than the bottomless pit of darkness ahead. She glanced at the white opal ring on her finger, a reminder of her vow.
If she didn’t accompany Jalius, she’d lose her one chance for a formal alliance with the Mage Underground. If she was going to survive to kill Malkov, she’d need every bit of help she could get.
Swallowing, she opened her hand and pulled enough magic to light a fist-sized ball of fire. She sent the burning sphere down the tunnel before following behind him.