Eat? I wasn’t hungry. I was filled to the brim.
Still his hand hung between us. It seemed second nature to just reach for it, let it cover mine, allow him to decide where I would go.
But the sky. The air. Miles of cobbles and all my rushing blood. The last thing I wanted was to return to my room.
“I think I’ll walk for a while,” I told him.
The hand fell. “Then I’ll join you.”
“No,” I answered, perhaps too quickly. “It’s all right. I won’t stray far.”
His brow furrowed in concern. “I thought you might want to redress. You’re covered in mud.” His eyes flickered down to my blouse.
I quickly crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly worried that if I looked down, I might find it had turned translucent.
“The Colsons won’t like you walking about alone,” he persisted.
“Like I said, I won’t stray far.”
He seemed confused. Off-balance. “There’s a rally this evening,” he said, brow still creased. “They have them every month in the marketplace. I can collect you from your room and take you there.” He didn’t await an answer. “In fact, if there’s ever anywhere you wish to go, I should come with you.”
I wanted to remind him that I’d spent the last seven years alone and survived well enough, but I knew he was trying to be kind. I nodded in acceptance. It seemed he would not take his leave without it.
A twinge of guilt bled its way into my heart that I should want him to leave at all.
“It begins around dusk,” he said, glancing to the horizon. “I’ll be at your door just before.” He placed a hand in his pocket, nodded reluctantly, and meandered away, looking over his shoulder once, then a second time.
“Ah, you broke the poor bastard’s heart,” came a deeper voice. Isaiah was suddenly sniffing my ankles, panting excitedly, and I turned to find Patrick standing on the stoop to Margarite’s. He bent to ruffle Isaiah’s ears. “Good dog,” he told him.
I grimaced. “I supposeyouwon’t let me walk awhile?”
“We’ve been workin’ underground all day, and you want to walk?”
“Yes,” I said unequivocally. I was pulsing with energy.
“Good god, woman,” he said. “Fine, let’s take a walk.”
“You could always leave me to it.”
“Not a fuckin’ chance.”
Patrick turned to bolt the door before we left, hiding the locks from view for a moment.
I tilted my head, a thought occurring to me. “How many tunnel entrances are there?”
Patrick wiped his hands on a kerchief he pulled from his trouser pocket. “A few.”
I frowned. As many tunnels as secrets, then. “Will I get to see the others?”
“And why would you need to see them?”
Together, we stepped out into the square.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a paranoid man, Patrick. I don’t intend to run away.”
He nodded his head. “Good,” he said. “Might hurt young Teddy’s feelings if you took off.”
“Hardly. And he’s not a boy.”
