Chapter 48

“Here, as promised,” a harried barmaid said, slamming down two large dishes brimming with food.

Clara’s eyes widened. Scrambled eggs, heavily buttered toast, clotted cream, fried tomatoes, a hunk of cheese, even a bite-sized portion of meat. Neither of them had seen such a grand meal, much less eaten one.

“What are you waiting for?” Lilitha smiled. “Eat!”

As Clara ate, Lilitha picked disconsolately at her plate. The meat was quickly gone—unappetizing as it was—while the rest of the food went cold. She forced down the eggs and they managed to stay down. She poked at her tomato. It was oily and sunken and gave off a sickly-sweet smell.

Nevertheless, she pierced it on her fork and parted her lips. She gagged, her fork clattering against the plate. Clara looked at her, the bright morning light making her hair glow.

“What are you doing, Clara? Eat!”

Clara finished chewing and swallowed. Her forehead furrowed. “What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about me. Just worry about yourself.” She pushed over her plate. “Here. You might as well have it.”

Lilitha studied the room. The place was full, the bar busy, the workers in a frenzy as steaming plates and full tankards of ale made the rounds. A large window looked out onto the crowded street. Light blazed onto their faces. A warm wind gusted through their clothes.

Later that morning, they traipsed the unfamiliar streets looking somewhere, anywhere, for work. The streets were teeming with people. She’d never seen so many people in one place: farmers and their animals, peddlers and their wagons. Even the rare carriage trundled by.

They tried their luck at a variety of places: inns, bathhouses, taverns, breweries, grocers, anything that might take on a young, desperate woman. But they all rejected them. Some slammed their doors in their faces, some laughed or cursed, one chased them away before they even had a chance to speak, convinced they were out to steal.

Not only were they women with no skills, but outsiders who looked like they’d just dragged themselves out of a mud pit, covered in sweat and filth after their long journey. It was frustrating they should be so desperate when there was a huge pile of riches sitting unused in the Diablons’s cave. Why hadn’t she thought to grab something more than just the stupid compass?

Desperate, Lilitha stood in front of a brothel in serious consideration before Clara tugged her away. The setting sun cast the buildings in a red glow as the girls wended their way through the crowd. They were only a few blocks away from their inn when they heard the approach of horses.

“Make way for the Champions of God!”

The two girls instinctively bowed their heads as a company of knights trotted down the street. Probably the wrong move. One of the Champions looked their way. For a moment, their eyes locked and a cold rush of dread shot down Lilitha’s spine.

Then the Champion passed, his giant black stallion keeping to its steady pace. As soon as she dared, Lilitha seized Clara’s wrist and pulled her around a nearby building. Hidden behind it, she looked back, but the knight had disappeared behind the others.

“What’s wrong?”

“Did you not see? It was Mandalay!”

Clara’s eyes widened. She looked around the wall, watching the company depart. When she turned back, she was frowning. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Heart pounding, Lilitha clutched at the building. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not mad. I know what I saw. He looked right at me. I know his eyes anywhere.”

Clara shook her head. “He only has one eye, remember?”

It was Lilitha’s turn to shake her head. “I’m sure it was him.”

Clara watched the passing crowd anxiously. People were starting to look at them suspiciously. “We should get out of here.”

They reached the inn. By the time they’d both climbed the stairs, Lilitha was trembling, and Clara was struggling to hold her up. Clara managed to get her through the door, kicking it closed behind her. Lilitha collapsed into bed, panting. The ceiling spun. Vomit rose up her throat. She swore she could taste the bird from the other night.

“I’ll get something for you,” Clara said, her golden hair matted and messed up. There were lines under her eyes.

Lilitha tried to grab her wrist but missed. “Leave it, Clara.”

But Clara took up her cloak and left, the door slamming shut behind her.

When Clara returned, she was holding a cat in her arms. The cat seemed calm and comfortable until Clara tried to hand it over to Lilitha whereupon it started yowling and hissing. It was like it sensed what Lilitha was and what she was about to do. Lilitha snapped its neck before it could scratch her.

Clara left as Lilitha tore the cat apart.

When she was done, she did her best to wipe her hands on the only towel they had. She kicked the bones and fur beneath the bed. A nice surprise for the innkeeper later.

Soon after, there was a light rap at the door.

“You can come in,” Lilitha said.

The door creaked open, Clara glanced inside, then slipped in and shut it behind her. “Feel better?”

“A little.” Lilitha grabbed at her stomach. “I gotta give it some time.” She was slurring her words. “Thank you.”

Clara nodded, then sat down beside her.

Lilitha clasped her hands together grimly. “What are we going to do if we can’t find work?”

“It’s only been one day.”

“I’m sure it was Mandalay. I know it was.” She looked at Clara desperately. “What if it was? What if he saw us? I don’t have the strength to deal with it all again.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t him. You were hungry and probably delirious. Remember—” she pointed at her face “—one eye.”

Lilitha released a deep breath and nodded. Though she wasn’t quite sure whether she actually ~had~ in fact seen two eyes. The setting sun had been too glaring.

But she didn’t tell Clara that.