Miranda watched the kite until it vanished behind the clouds, and then she turned to find Gin. She didn’t have to go far. He came trotting up almost at once, looking immensely pleased with himself.
“I knew you’d come around,” he said, tail wagging. “Are we leaving now or do you still need to get something?”
Miranda looked back at the cave. Her little fire had already flickered out, and everything else she had was on her back.
“Don’t think so,” she said. “Ready when you are.”
“I’ve been ready for the last five days,” Gin grumbled, lying down so she could climb up. When she was steady, he jumped, taking the first rocky ledge in one leap. The beach swung crazily below them, and Miranda felt all her blood running to her feet. By the third jump, Gin’s claws were scraping on bare stone, and Miranda closed her eyes to keep from being sick. Then they were on flat ground at the top of the cliff face, and Gin was asking her which way to go.
“East and south,” Miranda said.
“How far?” Gin asked, loping over the scrubby grass.
“I don’t know.” Miranda bit her lip. “If we go east, we’ll hit the road to the river, but if we cut cross-country, two days’ hard running?”
“Right,” Gin said, nodding. “We’ll be there tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning?” Miranda scoffed. “You can’t fly, mutt.”
“No?” Gin grinned. “Watch me.”
He picked up speed, racing over the low hills faster and faster until it was all Miranda could do to hold on.
“Gin!” she cried over the wind. “You can’t keep this up all the way to Gaol!”
“You worry about what we do when we get there,” he shouted back. “Leave the running to me.”
After that, Miranda gave up and held on. Clinging to the ghosthound’s shifting fur, she tried to think of what she’d do when they reached Gaol, but her mind was blank. After all, she didn’t even know what they were looking for, and though Lelbon had said the West Wind would help, she didn’t know what kind of help a great wind spirit considered appropriate, or if she’d recognize it when it came. Still, being on the road again, running toward a purpose, these made her happier than she’d been since arriving in Zarin, and she contented herself with holding on as the rocky fields and scrubby grass streaked by. Overhead, the cloudy sky grew dimmer as evening approached.
CHAPTER 11
Eli woke up to bright sunlight in his face and Josef’s boot poking his ribs.
“Get up,” Josef said. “The situation’s changed.”
Eli sat up, rubbing the grit out of his eyes. When he looked again, Josef was gone. He blinked a few times, trying to figure out if he’d dreamed the whole uncomfortable event, and then he spotted the ladder nailed to the wooden wall of the warehouse beside the door.
It was a hairy climb. The ladder was nailed to the wall with no allowance for footing, and he wasn’t actually awake enough for this sort of thing. Still, a few moments later he wiggled through the trapdoor to the sloped roof to find Nico and Josef lying belly down on the wooden shingles, staring across the water. The warehouses, being, as they were, by the river, were at the lowest point of Gaol. From the roof, however, you could see into the city proper, which seemed to be in some commotion.
“The sun’s barely up,” Eli said, yawning. “What is it, a bakers’ riot?”
“Not sure,” Josef said, eyeing the crowds that filled the broad streets leading up to the citadel. “Those are hardly bakers, unless bakers in Gaol make bread with swords. I was going to guess peasant riot, but the crowd’s far too calm, and nothing’s happening at the citadel. So now I’m thinking conscript army, and seeing as we’re knee-deep in a thief trap made for Eli Monpress, I’d say that crowd has your name on it.”
“Well,” Eli said, “they’re going the wrong way.”
He was right. The well-armed crowd in the street was heading away from the docks, marching uphill toward the keep.
“I wonder,” Eli said, standing on his toes to get a better view. “We should head down and find out what’s going on.”
Josef glared at him. “What did I just say last night about curiosity?”
“Josef,” Eli tsked, “this isn’t just curiosity; it’s groundwork. You gave me a day and a night to pull this job, and I can hardly steal a Fenzetti blade from here. Come on.” He smiled, heading for the trapdoor. “Let’s get dolled up.”
He vanished down the ladder. Nico and Josef exchanged a long-suffering look before getting up and following.