A few blocks from the Keep, Pazia said in a churlish tone, “You can try to tell everyone I was surprised by the men who attacked us, and I was completely sucked in by the saleswoman. But no one will believe you.” She was right.
I laughed. “You can pretend all you want, but without me you would be wearing a gaudy piece of glass on your finger. I know it and you know it. I don’t need to tell anyone else.”
“You don’t have anyone to tell anyway. You think you’re so much better than the rest of us—we’re not worth your time.”
I stopped. “Hold on. You’re the one who thinks she’s so powerful and special.”
“No. I don’t think. I know. I am more powerful than all my classmates and teachers. But I treat everyone equally. I’ve made friends.”
“Equally? What a laugh. You’ve been nasty to me since the first day!”
“That’s because you thought you were too good for us. All you did was help the Soulfinder imprison the Warpers and you were lavished with special attention. And for what?” Pazia rounded on me. “One deed. One trick. No other talents and you just admitted to being a betrayer. You don’t deserve to be a student at the Keep. You’ve been given a free ride. And you didn’t even have the decency to be humble about your good fortune. No. You expected it and expected everyone to fawn over you. Well, I wasn’t going to do it.” With a grunt of disgust, Pazia strode up the street.
I hurried after her. My thoughts swirled in my mind. I didn’t act as if I deserved special treatment. What did she expect me to do? Leave the Keep? She slowed and I almost ran into her.
“Seems you have someone fooled by your noble routine.” Pazia pointed to a dark shape.
A person waited by the Keep’s gates. As we came closer, his features and agitation grew clearer. I steeled myself for the unavoidable lecture.
Ulrick shot Pazia a sharp look. “You trust her to keep you safe?”
Agitated by Pazia’s accusations, I clamped down on a sarcastic reply. “I’m here aren’t I? Why are you here?” I immediately regretted my harsh tone when he looked at me as if I had slapped him.
“It’s late. I was concerned when you didn’t return for dinner. Guess I shouldn’t have bothered.” He turned on his heel and stormed into the Keep.
Pazia smirked. “You’re going to drive him away, too, and prove my point about you.”
Her comment was one too many. My emotions knotted and I could no longer think straight. “Shut up, Pazia. You think you have me all figured out. You have no idea. Let’s just keep focused on the task at hand.” I headed for the administration building and didn’t bother to note if she followed me or not.
Zitora waited in her office. Two lanterns burned on her desk.
She sprang from her seat the moment she saw us. “Why have you been gone so long?”
We alternated in telling her about our day. Pazia reported our findings in a factual manner, omitting the reason for Bex and Bloody Lip’s attack.
“So all the black market diamonds are fakes? Interesting and surprising,” Zitora said. “Any guesses as to why?”
“Elita mentioned having to keep up with her client’s demands,” I said. “Perhaps the illegal diamond seller is working both sides of the street. Sell real stones to the jewelers who can tell the difference and sell fakes to the black market dealers who can’t.”
“A good scam,” Pazia agreed. “One that would pull in a ton of money.”
“But do all the legitimate jewelers sell these illegal stones?” Zitora asked.
Her comment reminded me about Elita’s agent. He and Egg knew we were searching for real diamonds. “Elita knows about the fakes. We don’t have any information about the other jewelers.”
“Then we should find out.” Zitora settled into her chair. “You and Pazia keep your appointment with Elita. We’ll set up a watch on Elita’s back door to see if we can spot her diamond supplier.”
A good plan. Yet I felt we had overlooked something vital. I reviewed the events of the day, searching for loopholes. “Fisk.”
Zitora glanced up from her desk. “Fisk?”
“We told him the black market diamonds are fakes. He planned to spread the word.”
“Which might scare away the supplier,” Pazia said.
“Go. Find Fisk. Make sure he keeps quiet,” Zitora ordered.
“Now?” Pazia glanced at the darkness pressed against the window.
“Yes.”
We hurried from Zitora’s office.
“Take off your jewelry,” Pazia said. “This time we don’t want to attract attention.”
“Do you know where Fisk is?” I pulled the ruby bracelets from my arm, unpinned the brooch and shoved them into my pocket. My hair clips followed.
“He lives above the Guild’s headquarters with his family. Come on, I have an early class tomorrow.”
We arrived at Fisk’s place without incident. Fortunately he was home and joined us in the Guild’s common room. We explained what happened with Elita.
“She’s well respected. It’s hard to believe she’s selling contraband,” Fisk said.
“Have you heard any rumors about the other jewelers?” I asked.
“No. But I’ll make a few discreet inquiries.”
“Have you told anyone about the fakes?” Pazia asked.
“Not yet. I’ll wait until we have identified the supplier.” Fisk stiffened and held a hand up for silence.
The door to the alley opened and a small figure slipped inside. Appearing to be around six years old, the boy signaled Fisk with a series of hand and arm gestures.
“Thanks,” Fisk said. He flipped a silver coin to the boy. The child snatched it from midair and disappeared in the same furtive manner as he had arrived.
“You were followed.” He frowned at Pazia as if waiting for an explanation.
“I was in a hurry.” She seemed unconcerned.
Unlike me. I was very concerned. “Do you know who?”
“A man. A little taller and muscular than average, according to Tweet.”
My mind raced over potential attackers. Blue Eyes, Tricky, Sir, Tal, it was quite a list. Worry gnawed on my guts, chewing holes.
“You learned all that from a child named Tweet?” Pazia asked.
Fisk gave her an icy stare. “Tweet is the only sound the boy can make since his mother cut out his tongue for crying too loud. She actually did him a favor by abandoning him on the street. Even without parents, the boy understands better than you the importance of keeping the location of our headquarters a secret.”
“Fine. We’ll corner this man and find out why he followed us.” She made to leave.
“Can’t you just read his thoughts?” I asked.
She shooed away my question. “Too many people around.”
“He’s waiting at the end of the alley. Not far at all,” Fisk said.
Pazia’s annoyance turned to anger. “My ability to read minds is very limited. Happy now? Are you going to help us trap him or not?”
In the end, Pazia and I left the headquarters and headed toward the Keep. Fisk would wait a couple minutes and then recruit a few Guild members to set up an ambush near the Six Heathers Inn.
My legs wanted to run as fast as my heartbeat. Keeping my gait steady was an exercise in willpower. An itchy burning sensation bored into my back right between my shoulder blades, pushing me toward panic. I kept a sharp eye out for magical spiders and beetles.
The Six Heathers Inn appeared deserted. No lights in the windows and not a sound escaped from inside. The beginning of the cold season wasn’t a popular time for visitors to the Citadel, but, even at this late hour, I expected to see a few customers.
A shrill tweet split the air when we rounded a comer. Sounds of a scuffle ensued. We raced back to the noise. Five gangly children sat on top of a man. His indignant cries of protest died in his throat when he spotted me.