He took Aria into a brightly lit store.
“What are we doing?”
“Observing,” he whispered back.
He watched several purchases, making note of the currency purses that most tucked just inside the opening of their cloaks—his own had a pocket there. When he was satisfied with his findings, he took them back out into the street.
“No matter what I do, keep your focus straight ahead and just walk,” he whispered to Aria. He decided the double thumb thing would be too cumbersome for his next task, so he morphed one hand back to its normal self.
“What are you going to do?” There was a hint of tension in her voice.
“Just keep walking.”
The sound of teeth grinding together echoed from within her hood, and he squelched his urge to smile as he scanned the others walking toward them. The differences were subtle, but he had a trained eye. He steered closer to a form that was more heavyset, wearing a cloak with a finer, tighter weave.
And then he tripped and slammed straight into him.
The voice that protested definitely sounded male. The language wasn’t one Lucas understood, so he just bowed and scraped his way out of the altercation and swiftly followed Aria’s form into the crowd. In moments, they were well away from his affronted cloak wielder.
Aria leaned close. “Please tell me you didn’t just pick that person’s pocket.”
Lucas flashed her the pouch filled with currency before tucking it beneath his cloak.
“You stole that,” she hissed.
Annoyance flashed through Lucas. “We need currency to get through the gate. Do you have a better way to get it?”
“We could get a job.”
“Jobs take time. We don’t have it. And we don’t even speak their language. How do you think we’d land one?”
She growled and her strides lengthened, her annoyance shedding her disguise like a snake shed its skin. Those they passed drew away as though sensing a predator in their midst.
Lucas grabbed her arm through the cloak and leaned close. “Hey. Slouch and bounce. You’re drawing too much attention.”
She stopped dead. “I don’t like stealing.”
The remark, and the disgust in her voice, stung. “I’m a thief. Get used to it.”
The hood turned his way.
“Not all of us have a choice,” he added, before continuing on.
For a moment, she froze, as though concocting a reply. But then she stiffened, and turned away, staring down a side alley much darker than the one they were on. The crowd parted around them, and some hooded heads turned their way.
Lucas took her arm and guided her off the main walkway, into the shadows. “What is it?”
“There’s a gate near here,” she said. “And someone just opened it.”
21
Not all of us have a choice.
As Aria led the way through the dimly lit streets, she debated what Lucas had told her. The words implied heavy judgment, but considering what she’d said to him, perhaps she deserved it.
Despite her rough start as the infant of an escaped slave, Aria had experienced an excellent childhood. She hadn’t wanted for much. Mervok and Danao had provided the support and guidance of father figures. She’d never been left in doubt of the strength of their love.The Power of Three—they’d lived by the motto she’d had engraved on Mervok’s armbrace. And although the life of a mercenary was not easy, it was lucrative.
That is, unless you let your boss get slaughtered. Aria doubted she’d be getting another bodyguard position. Perhaps she should reserve judgment of Lucas, considering she might also soon be stealing to live.
