Page 68 of The Stolen Throne
“Can I ask a favor in return?”
“Of course.”
“Two, actually. First, watch after Tabra and Achlys? Help Achlys with whatever she needs.”
Vida stops what she’s doing and slips the needle into the material to hold her place, then takes both my hands in hers. “I’ll watch after them as if they were my own sisters.”
“Thank you.”
She nods. “And the second?”
I nibble at my lip, debating how to say this. “We have a traitor among us.”
Vida’s eyes go wide. “A traitor?” She squeaks the question loudly, and I put my finger to my lips. In a quieter voice, she says, “Are you certain?”
“Nothing these days is certain.”
She frowns. “Are you asking me to…find them?”
I wouldn’t put her in harm’s way for all the world. “Not exactly. But you are friendly with so many, which puts you in a helpful spot. Just keep your ear to the ground. Note anyone behaving oddly—Wanderer or Vanished. Can you do that for me?”
She gives a jerking nod. “I’ll keep my ears open.”
Good. “And don’t trust the zariph.”
She blinks slowly.
I lift one shoulder. “He’s not a bad man. He’s just not on our side. He’s on his own.”
After a second, Vida’s lips quirk. “That one would sell his own mother if he thought he could leverage it to his advantage.”
Her words should be funny, but there’s no humor in our situation. “We have both his son and daughter with us, which should ensure he doesn’t abandon the Vanished or my sister, but he’s not happy that I haven’t agreed to marriage. And between Reven, Tabra, me, and now the amulets—”
“Don’t forget Bene,” she tacks on.
As if I could. “The zariph’s not thrilled with how this is going.” I don’t blame him, either. “So be careful. Okay?”
Vida stares at me for a long time. Long enough that I start to open my mouth to ask “what,” because it’s like she wants to say something but can’t. Or maybe decides not to, because in the next second she smiles. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
Asking her to watch over them is the best I can do while I’m gone.
29
Disguises and
Portals
“You need to work on looking less…you.” I mumble the words under my breath as Reven and I wind our way through Yolyn Zag.
It’s market day. Which means it’s crowded. Stuffed with people. Which is why we came today. It’s easier to blend in and go unnoticed in a crowd.
Reven puts a hand to my lower back—something an Arydian would rarely do in public, even with a loved one—to usher me between two people. It’s not a sweet gesture. It’s him literally keeping a hand on me so he doesn’t lose me. Is it pathetic that I want to lean into the touch even though it means nothing to him? He hasn’t touched me in what feels like forever, even though it’s only been days.
He grunts at my comment. “You mean looking less like the king?”
Actually, no. Though that’s a problem, too, which is why half his face is covered, and so is mine. “I mean you tend to draw the eye.”
“Huh?”
