Within These Wicked Walls(50)

“That could take days.”

“Days to construct a better shield or seconds to die without it.” He waved it at me obnoxiously. “You have three seconds before I revoke my gracious offer.”

I took the amulet immediately, although I wanted to hit him over the head with it rather than study it. I’m pretty sure God would look the other way, seeing as it was Jember.

“Where am I supposed to stay, if not the castle?”

“Here, if you can keep your head down and mouth shut.”

I smirked. “That was almost kindhearted of you, Jember.”

“Or you can annoy me some more and sleep on the street again.” He pushed himself up to stand, stretching. “Actually, I need to run some errands. Give that back. You can study my old amulet, for now.”

I handed him the amulet with both hands on the heavy chain. “I have to tell my friend I won’t be back to the castle for a while, so she doesn’t worry. She’s right outside.” Jember froze, so I added, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to say hello.”

“Didn’t intend to.” He grabbed a turmeric-colored shirt, with enough holes that it almost looked artistically done, and sniffed it before pulling it on over his amulet.

I took the key from the dresser and unlocked the chain, shoving the doors open. Saba was leaning against the wall across from the church, as casually as if she lived here instead of in a grand house.

Jember stumbled to a stop on the steps, and I checked to make sure his peg leg hadn’t gotten caught in a crack or something. And then he swore—a gross, vulgar word.

I glared down at him. “You can’t say that word right behind a church.”

He said it again.

“Jember, stop.” I looked at Saba to apologize, but … she was looking at the ground, her brows lowered … her eyes glassy.

“Saba?”

I’d never heard Jember’s voice tremble, and my head shot up to look at him, just to make sure it had come from him. “You know each other?”

“Don’t tell me—? God. You can’t tell me.” He said that gross word again, then slammed the cellar doors shut.

“What’s gotten into you, old man?” I demanded through the doors.

“Get her away from here,” he said, his voice muted from the other side. “Right now.”

“U-um—” I looked at Saba. A tear had broken free down her cheek and my breath faltered for an instant. But I led her toward the side of the church anyway. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back,” I told her, and raced back down the alley.

“She’s gone now,” I said to the door, which opened immediately.

He stormed up the stairs, snatching the key back from me and locking the chain without a word.

“Wait a second,” I demanded of his back as he left, “what was that all about?”

Jember turned on me, glaring as if I’d said something disrespectful. “Let me guess, that was the pottery you cut yourself on?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before leaving me alone in the alley.

So he knew. Of course he knew. He’d faced a hyena, that must’ve had a servant of its own.

It took me a moment before I could gather myself from all the emotion and go back to where Saba was waiting. She’d dried her tears, but still looked distressed.

I had too many questions, but decided it was better to go with the least insensitive, first. “Are you okay?”

She started to nod, but didn’t get very far, her eyes distant.

“Jember’s offered me the opportunity to learn how to make a better amulet. One that can withstand the power of the Evil Eye. So, if you could let Magnus know it might be a few days until I can come back … Saba?”

At her name she blinked, her gaze snapping to me as if waking from a dream. She gave me a sad smile and nodded.

“What happened?”

She shook her head. Paused. And then she took out a charcoal pencil, leaning on the stone wall of the church to write something. She folded the paper up and handed it to me. It had been her shopping list on one side, because I saw remnants of bullet points and items among the folds. But on the front, in darkly scribbled letters, were the words For Jember.

Her expression was so earnest, I decided to keep the rest of my questions to myself. They would keep until I saw her again. “I’ll get it to him.”

I could tell her grin didn’t come easily, and then she turned and walked toward where we’d left the coach.





CHAPTER 20


I held Jember’s amulet in my lap, shifting my eyes over it like reading a scroll. The basic markings to see through illusions. Ones to build up a shield.

But, even though this was one of his older amulets, it was still more advanced than mine. Most of it was a confusing array of strokes and dots. The color combinations of the wrapped threads didn’t make sense to me. There was no pattern to it.

I picked up the little chalkboard, chipped and cloudy, from when I was little and still learning to write. I started with the strokes I knew, working until the construction deviated from my own amulet. From there it was chaos. It wasn’t enough to see them and make a rough copy—any imperfection in the construction would render the amulet useless for what I needed it to do. But trying to sense the strokes was like too many voices echoing in a cave. Unfocused. Indecipherable.