Page 27 of Embrace the Serpent

I stalked after him. “That’s mine.”

He peered at me over the top of the card, which now was covered in dark fingerprints. “Yer not a jewelsmith.”

Very casually, I asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Yer too young. And yer dressed wrong.”

“How would you know?”

“I seen the others.”

“What others? Other jewelsmiths?”

He shrugged.

“Do you know Rane?”

He shrugged again, this time shiftily.

“Will you take me to him?”

“Only s’posed to take jewelsmiths.”

“But I am a jewelsmith. Look.” I dug out a few of my tools.

Fast as a viper, his hand darted out, and I yanked them out of his reach. Thwarted, he stuck his finger in his ear and dug around. “Yer no jewelsmith.”

“But if I was, and you didn’t take me, wouldn’t Rane be mad?”

“Rane’d be mad if I took ya and ya weren’t, too.”

I held his gaze; he didn’t blink. But a smirk spread across his cheeks once my eyes began to water. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll prove it to you.” But I didn’t have jewels or ingots. I should’ve thought to nick some from the storeroom.

Grimney poked his head out of my pocket.

I had an idea. “Grims, could you spare a stone? The smallest you have should be fine.”

He thought for a long moment and then in a frog-like manner, spat out a small amethyst flake. The boy laughed delightedly. Good. Grimney crept down my skirt and rolled around on the street for his entertainment, distracting him.

I unspooled a bit of gold thread from the dress, from a discreet part of the skirt that hopefully wouldn’t keep me from getting a good price for it.

I had no fire, so I braided the thread until it was thick enough and used it to encircle the amethyst in gold like lace. It became a smallnecklace. The amethyst had little to no power, at most it might give the smallest of protections from intoxication.

“There,” I said, holding it out to the boy. “Believe me now?”

His eyes were wide. He reached for it.

I pulled it back. “It’s yours, once you bring me to Rane.”

He sniffled thoughtfully. “Fair ’nuff, lady.”

He took off. I pulled my hood tight, scooped up Grimney, and set off after him.

We made our way to the parade grounds right outside the Palace Quarter, where a miniature city of tents had sprouted up for the Season. These were great tents, grand ones, made to house nobles who were too minor or too paranoid to stay in the Rose Palace. And then there was the support staff, the maids, the cooks, the bodyguards that rode with each visiting noble from their lands to the capital city.

Imperial Guards mingled with personal guards wearing the colors of near every noble house.

I made sure my hood covered me well. The boy led us deep into the colorful, narrow lanes made by the backsides of the tents. Fabric flew in my face—someone’s laundry—and I learned to duck. Conversations filtered through the air, in all dialects and twangs. The smells of cuisines from all across the Empire mingled and made my stomach growl.

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