He spotted another shop tucked farther ahead. “Do they take duvin here, you think?”
“Unfortunately,” Arthie said dryly, her umbrella washing shadows over her like a gown.
He dragged them over to a peddler with fewer options than he would have hoped. “Good. I think I’m in need of a hat.”
“Are you?”
“I’d say the three of us marching with umbrellas is a tad too conspicuous, eh?”
Arthie pursed the side of her mouth in agreement, eyeing him as he tried on different kinds. “A bowler hat?”
“The boy can’t look in a mirror to know,” Matteo reminded her.
Jin paid the man and pulled the hat snug over his head, closing up his umbrella and testing out the sun. Not bad. “Someone who knows they look good in anything and nothing doesn’t need a mirror.”
Arthie followed suit, repositioning her baker boy hat and tugging on a pair of gloves. Matteo had neither a hat, gloves, nor enough buttons on his shirt, so under his umbrella he remained.
“Still no sign of a Horned Guard carriage,” Matteo said.
“There,” Arthie said, pointing to a trio of guards marching up the street. They were laughing, rifles nowhere to be seen. “No weapons; they’re off-duty. Not captains, though it’d be ideal if we found one so we’d have a better chance of finding something important. Follow them.”
“To?” Matteo asked, but Jin knew better and tailed Arthie as she rushed up the hill.
She came to a halt when they reached the paved road. Jin didn’tknow if she was reliving a memory or seething just then, but she blinked and the line of her brow smoothed as she tucked away her emotions yet again with a hand on Calibore. They darted up the cobblestones to the edge of a newly built, still-vacant shop, and crouched beside the cover of the shrubs lining the side of it.
“To their haunt,” Arthie replied, nodding to the bright red pub. “And there’s our carriage.”
It was sitting across the street. The Ram’s sigil was emblazoned on the side, silver bright on the black covering.
“The guard’s inside the pub,” Arthie said.
“How do you know?” Matteo asked, and Jin was reminded that Matteo had never been on a job before. The Athereum infiltration, yes, but never a street job such as this.
“Because the carriage is parked in front of it,” Jin said. “And you can see a number of Horned Guard through the frosted glass.”
“As I said, it’s their haunt,” Arthie finished. “Let’s go. Matteo, you first. Jin, we’ll—”
“Oi, he’s already going,” Jin said before she could finish her instructions. He straightened, the two of them readying to run after him when the pub doors swung open, the jangle of the bells reminding him of Spindrift. “Well, and there’s your captain.”
Who began walking toward the carriage.
Matteo heard it too. He was already beside the carriage and rose on his toes, glancing over it and then back at them with growing panic. And instead of running away or acting like he was lost, Matteo Andoni opened the damned carriage door and snuck inside.
“No, you fool,” Arthie whispered beneath her breath as the carriage took off with a whinny from the horses.
With a growl, she shot to her feet and ran after it, still in the cover of the foliage lining the road. Jin crashed through beside her, scowling at the branches poking at him.
“He’s a painter, not a criminal,” Jin reminded her.
The carriage turned from their tiny road onto a larger, busier one, and the two of them wrenched to a halt.
“It’s—” Arthie stopped, aghast.
“Busy,” Jin said, stumbling after her. He hadn’t realized there would bethismany people here. The traffic was bustling, carriages trundling in either direction, people calling out to one another. What had he expected? More than Ceylanis lived here now.
He hurried after Arthie, but they were losing ground, and fast. He glanced at her to say as much, only to find her scanning the street and eyeing a carriage up ahead. He knew what she was about to do, and when he found himself attuned to her scheming, a part of Jin settled. Like a coin that had been spinning without end and finally, finally came to a satisfying halt.
Right now, Arthie was going to requisition another carriage.
