The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(35)
Esha had trailed her target from her inn room to the center of the bazaar, where stone arches towered above them. Why did her suspect keep coming here? This was where the most expensive imported jewelry was sold, as Esha had discovered yesterday.
She ambled across from stall to stall, her eyes trailing her target. The girl was all wide eyes and open face, almost guileless. Odd for someone who might have used their cunning to plot a brutal murder and frame the Viper for it. A small smile played across the girl’s face as she lifted and inspected earrings and an intricate ruby necklace.
Esha moved closer, watching, waiting.
Her target turned to say something to the shopkeeper as a large man moved in front of Esha, almost knocking her over. She glared at the man’s hairy back and resisted the urge to poke him with her knife.
Without notice, four women of all ages appeared beside the man, pulling at the ruby-encrusted bangles and sapphire earrings that were strewn across the stall, chattering away like parrots about an upcoming wedding. Esha twisted and turned to catch sight of what was happening with her target. She saw the girl hand the shopkeeper something before skittering away with glances tossed back at the loud family.
Moving quickly, Esha dodged around the family in question. She followed as best she could, only catching glimpses of the girl in the crowded bazaar.
Her target was now threading through the crowds at a quicker clip. As the minutes ticked by, the crowd grew thicker, the smell of fried dough and possibility of discounts at the bazaar becoming too tempting to resist.
They left the central covered area of the bazaar, the sky opening up above them. Esha sped up, elbowing her way through the crowd with smiles. She had learned early on that a well-placed smile got her further than anything else.
Shopkeepers shouted their wares from every direction, becoming more aggressive as Esha left the women’s quarters and followed her target into the everyday goods and food stalls. She ignored the onslaught of delicious smells in spite of her growling stomach.
Mission first, eat later. A reward of sorts.
Distracted by a dancing monkey in a brimless jute hat with brass finger cymbals, the teeming crowd parted enough that Esha could slip in behind the traitor, following her until she passed a small alleyway.
Esha stumbled into her target on purpose, placing a hand lightly on her back as she got ready to pull out her whip.
The girl started at the touch, turning to look at Esha.
“I’m very sorry, emendi.” Esha pointed down to the edge of her bead-embroidered sandals. “It looks like my sandal beads got snagged on the stone. Could you help me pull myself free? You know how flimsy these new fashions are.”
The girl looked younger than Esha and it startled her. Esha covered up her reaction quickly, giving the young girl a smile that invited her in on the joke. She was doe-eyed and small-boned.
A slip of a girl.
She looked a bit confused, but the tension eased from her round face. “Of course.”
The girl knelt down and reached to tug at Esha’s sandal. As she bowed her head, Esha pushed her into the half-darkness of the alleyway. She wrapped the thin end of her whip around the girl’s neck, leaning forward to conceal her from passersby with the billowing length of the uttariya that draped off her head.
“You have about a minute to explain why you framed me before you’ll lose breath,” Esha whispered.
“Wha-at?” The girl’s brown eyes shot up to look at her, wide with surprise and terror, taking in Esha’s cold smile and the whip cutting off her air. “Viper,” she stuttered out.
Esha grinned, but it was hardly more than a baring of her teeth.
“Then you know I’m not playing any games. Tell me what I want to know and I may let you leave alive.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“I’d take care not to lie,” Esha said, a simmer of fury under her skin. “You’ve left Gwali without telling your fellow Blades, you’ve been asking around about caravans for hire, flashing a tidy sum of gold. Is it simply that you went beyond your orders? I understand wanting to kill the general, but framing me went a bit far.”
The girl’s face began to lose its color and she grabbed at Esha’s hands, frantic.
“Well, it seems you don’t feel like cooperating.” She loosened the whip ever so slightly, easing the pressure off her vocal cords. “But I’ll give you one more chance.”
“It’s not—what you—think,” the girl managed to get out.
A gurgle rose from the girl’s throat, but any sound she was trying to make was cut off by the tight hold of the whip. Esha paused, looking closer at the girl.
“Dalia,” the girl said, her voice strained as she stuttered out the syllables. Esha looked at the traitor sharply, her mind racing to find any connection between this name and the general’s murder. “My Dalia.”
“What did you say?”
“Dalia,” she whispered again, and wiggled her fingers toward her satchel. Esha reached in and pulled out a ruby necklace and a note.
Written in an exuberant scrawl was a love letter, with a declaration of commitment to run away together and a signature: Dalia.
Moon Lord’s mercy.
A young girl in love. Her name was Tana, and she wasn’t running away after betraying the Blades, she was running toward a life for her and the girl she loved. If there existed such a love, she wouldn’t come between it, despite this girl’s past choices.