Page 50 of Skyshade
At least she was being quiet, Isla thought, until Sairsha was done with her food and said, “You’ve saved many of my friends, you know.”
Isla didn’t look at her. She just stared ahead and wondered when this woman would leave her alone.
“We feel safer nowadays. Fewer incidents happening. It seems people are afraid of the consequences. You’ve earned a reputation.”
That wasn’t great. She would need to start going to other villages.
A door opened below. Laughter spilled onto the streets. It closed, muting them. “Have you been there before?”
It was a bar. She had watched its entrance plenty of times but had never been inside. She shook her head, grateful the scarf over most of her face had kept still.
“I could use a drink. Let’s go.”
Isla ignored her.
“The beer’s terrible, but the food is good.”
Isla offered her a noncommittal nod.
“The company’s not bad either, except—”
Isla turned to face her. “If I go, will you actually leave me alone?”
Sairsha nodded. Isla sighed, then found herself scaling down the building, while Sairsha took the stairs. This was foolish. She should just go into an alley and use her device to portal away. She should find a completely different town. She should wait at her window until another storm finally broke.
But, she realized, she had come to crave the routine of this town. It had given her some semblance of control over her life. She liked this rooftop and the bars around it, the alley that was especially convenient for killing.
So she stepped inside the bar.
Someone near her turned lazily in her direction, then froze. He whispered something to the person next to them—a short woman—and she startled. It continued, person after person whispering, then staring, until the room went quiet.
Isla went still. Her hand inched toward her dagger and starstick, as she wondered which one she would use first.
She shouldn’t have come. It was a risk, even with a scarf disguising most of her face. The people of Nightshade hated her. If they knew she was Grim’s wife—the snake-queen—she might not be able to portal before they attacked.
Sairsha just laughed. “Don’t mind them. They’re just in awe of your presence.” They knew. She took a step backward.
“It really is you,” a voice said, as Isla turned to run. “The heartripper.”
Her hand paused just inches from the door handle.
Heartripper? She needed to start adding more variety to her killings. Clearly, she had made it her signature.
She breathed again.
“Told you I knew her.” The woman linked arms with Isla’s, and she had to physically stop herself from wrenching away.
A man with a weathered face and bald head nodded at her as she passed. “Thank you for all you’ve done,” he told her, before continuing his conversation.
Slowly the attention shifted away from her.
“Get you anything to drink?” Sairsha said, as she led Isla to a pair of empty stools that looked very close to collapsing and were covered in a film of substance, likely dried drink.
“No,” Isla said, keeping her voice as hushed as possible. They didn’t seem to know who she was beyond heartripper—yet—but she didn’t need to make it easy for them to figure out her identity.
Every time someone in front looked over their shoulder at her with curiosity, she tensed. She reminded herself that it would take hardly any time to portal away. Or to touch her necklace, summoning Grim in an instant. But then, he would probably end up killing every single person in this room. And wondering why his wife was in this bar to begin with.
Sairsha returned a few moments later, slamming a large mug in front of her. “In case you change your mind,” she said. “Our little saint must be parched.”
