Chapter 1
Benét Leila quietly sipped her tea at a table on the patio of Veila’s Tea Shop. The quiet, demure character Leila portrayed was in stark contrast to her actual personality. Carefully, and in the most ladylike manner, she attempted to scratch her head. The black wig covering her naturally golden red hair and the scarf placed skillfully over it were beginning to prove bothersome. Maybe it was the persistent heat of the city that Leila wasn’t accustomed to, or maybe it was the bad feeling she had because her best friend Kay was over an hour late. It was not like Kay to be late for their meeting to go home to Kay’s son. Leila sighed. They were losing their best chance to leave the city. Soon, the empty streets would be filled, and they would miss their opportunity to blend in and be lost from any of the trackers.
As the noon bell struck, people began to slowly leave their shops and trickle down the street. Shortly thereafter, the streets would bustle with citizens. Every day as the sun reached its peak above the city, the city of Lexia would temporarily halt as all the residents proceeded home for their midday meal. Leila sat quietly, impervious to the noise around her, sipping her tea as she waited impatiently. Out of the corner of one eye, she noticed the tea shop owner closing the shop doors.
“Just drop your money in the slot at the door before you leave, honey,” the wrinkled old lady said to Leila as she locked the door and slowly shuffled down the street into the forming crowd.
Leila’s eyes followed the old lady down the street. Leila sat alone on the patio of the tea shop, but across the street stood a young man, trying his best to stay hidden. His dark blond hair was noticeable as he was a full head above the people passing him by. Lexia was a city full of olive skinned, black haired residents, and this man was obviously not a native. Despite his attempts to go unnoticed, the man followed Leila. New trackers were easy to spot.
One, she thought to herself. No, two, she corrected.
Two doors down, a man was being unceremoniously pushed out of an adjoining shop as the owner tried to close for lunch. Leila had broken a cardinal rule: one must not stay in one place too long. She needed to keep moving.
“Great,” she whispered under her breath. Not only was Kay over an hour late, now she had to lose the tails before she could go looking for her. Luckily for her, it wasn’t her first trip into Lexia. The pay was always better when an assignment included a trip to Lexia. Over the years, she had been there so many times that it was beginning to feel like a second home.
Leila stood and methodically stretched. She had waited long enough; it was time to move on and find out what was keeping Kay. Leila walked over and slid two coins into the slot in the middle of the shop door before eyeing each of the men trailing her.
This should be easy, she thought, newbies.
Leila knew the city better than any local. If Leila moved quickly, she could use the stragglers as cover on her way back to the inn. Darting between streets, she took care to blend in with the crowds. Before long, she had lost both of the trackers.
That didn’t take much, she smirked at the thought of each man as she left him.
It was always fun to teach the new trackers a lesson; Leila wasn’t worth their time. Leila was an expert courier. She had been hand chosen six years earlier at the age of twelve; now at eighteen years of age, she was the best courier of any neighboring country. No one, man or woman, could keep up with her. Leila was a ghost to many and a legend to everyone else. Through her training, she had perfected the use of multiple identities so that she could travel from city to city, fulfilling even the most demanding assignments.
After changing clothes and packing her bags, Leila followed the map in her head to the gate nearest to the palace jail. Kay was too late by now. She had to have been caught. Leila surveyed the area and saw that only one guard was on patrol. She could easily sneak by, but if she was caught inside, it would draw unwanted attention to her. The guard paced between the gate and the gatehouse.
What is the best way to get into jail? she thought to herself.
“Excuse me,” Leila said, as politely as possible. “I heard from my uncle’s neighbor’s best friend that my sister was thrown in jail for some silly misunderstanding,” she lied to the young confused guard. Clearly he wasn’t accustomed to being addressed by people on the street. Unaffected by his stunned silence, she continued her lie, “she’s about this tall,” she indicated with her hand to the height of her shoulder, “and she has long brown hair. She’s traveling with my grandmother and me and stopped by to find an old friend of our grandmother’s. From what we were told, some mean guard misunderstood her and threw her in jail without a single question and now we’re distraught on how to get her out. I left grandmother back at the inn and told her not to worry. But now I think I might be in over my head. I’ve walked around these gates for hours, and it doesn’t seem like there’s any way to get in to help her out. We’re not from around here, and I’m afraid we will run out of money paying for the inn before we can find out how to clear up this misunderstanding.”