Assassin's Heart (Assassin's Heart, #1)(14)

“Oh! Yes, I do. I will protect your appearance here as surely as I protect this location.”

Someone had sold our Family out to the others. I stared him in the eyes, searching for a hint of betrayal.

No. None of the shopkeepers knew the location of our home. They only kept our belongings safe, to gain favor from Safraella.

I sheathed my knife. It was a testament to the man’s loyalty that he didn’t check his neck for blood.

From the hidden entrance, I slipped into the alley.

I spent the entire day traveling shadow to shadow, searching the hatches for signs of my Family. The first I checked was the entrance the attackers had used, the one hidden by the church.

I didn’t get too close. Someone would be watching, waiting to see if anyone would appear. I wasn’t stupid.

I clutched the key hanging from my neck and examined the entrance from a hiding spot. The bush that hid the hatch had been hacked apart, and the door had been chopped into slivers of wood.

Last night Val had dangled my key before me. And then hours later my Family was dead. Or, if Rafeo was wrong, and it wasn’t the Da Vias, then I must have left the hatch into our house unlocked. Either way, everything had happened because of me.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach, trying to calm my twisting gut. Answers could come later. I lived. It was up to me to try and save what was left of my Family. Failing that . . . I’d cross those fields when I reached them.

The other tunnels remained undiscovered. I traveled through each, following them until I reached the hatches at the other end that led into the house. None would open, even with my key. No one had escaped through them.

I was the only remaining Saldana.

I sat at the bottom of a hatch and removed my mask, breathing freely in the damp air, which stank of smoke and burned things.

I pictured the house. A burned-out wreck, down to the beams. Or maybe the fire had somehow been contained, only burning everything inside. The plush carpets. The furniture and our belongings.

The people . . .

No. Don’t think about it, Lea. Don’t think about them. This couldn’t be happening. Not to me.

I rubbed my eyes and pulled my mask down. Crying wouldn’t lead me anywhere. I needed a plan. I needed to fix this!

My joints creaked as I stood. I also needed sleep. And food and a bath. Those were the first things. Then I’d choose my next steps. Decide who to kill first, and how.

Because someone would die for what they’d done to the Saldanas. And this time I wouldn’t kill just in service of Safraella. No. This time it would also be for me.

I slipped through the streets, passing through shadows cast by lamplight until it grew dark enough to travel by rooftop. It was quicker to travel above, especially early in the night when the streets were crowded with people. I stopped at every safe house, collecting all my spare money and anything else I might need, and then I headed southeast, toward the border of the city of Ravenna. The closer I drew, the sparser the buildings. Finally I had to climb down to the street level and make my way between shadows and trash-filled alleys. The streets weren’t safe.

Around the corner a group of revelers blocked my way. Their raucous laughter echoed off the snug walls of the garden I slipped inside to hide. A wrought-iron bench further blocked me from their view. I pulled my cloak tight as they traveled past the gate. The women wore luxurious dresses, made from the finest velvet and lace, their collars reaching to the tops of their heads and their hair wrapped intricately with ribbons, beads, and gems.

I’d never wear anything like that now. Not that I’d ever had an opportunity to own something so fine, even for the balls at the palace where we were often invited. There would be no more balls for me. No more beautiful things.

I glanced out from my hiding spot. At the rear of their group I caught a quick flash of a man in a cylindrical hat, staff at his side. I looked again.

Nothing. Only my tired eyes playing tricks.

When the group turned a corner, I escaped my hiding place, staring in the direction they’d gone. Echoes of their revelry reached me in staccato bursts. It must’ve been easy, to be a commoner. To know if they were murdered at the hands of a clipper, they would be reborn as an infant into a better life. To know there was someone who would seek vengeance on their behalf or take their life if their sadness was too great. To not worry about gods and their demands and Family ranks.

This far south I could smell the brininess of the sea on the air. I inhaled deeply and pictured throwing myself into its depths, letting myself sink to the bottom and the peace and quiet found there.

I shook my head. A common life wasn’t for me. It never had been. I just needed some sleep. Things always looked different when I was well rested.

Before me stood an inn tucked away in a corner of the city. I hid my mask in my cloak, but it would be clear to the inn owner I was a clipper. I didn’t have any common clothing. I’d have to be gone as soon as possible in the morning before the owner had a chance to wag his tongue.

I used part of my money to rent a room for a night and asked that a hot bath be drawn. I smelled of smoke and fire; this was obvious even before the innkeeper wrinkled his nose. It was on my hair, my skin, inside of me. Maybe I’d never be clean of it.

My room was small, but the mattress was free of bugs and lice. The innkeeper offered me a key to the bathing room, and after I stashed my belongings, I went straight there.

The tub was dented and rusted in spots, but hot steam rolled over its edges. I climbed in and sank up to my chin, letting the water soak away my aches and pains. I scrubbed my skin with rough soap, concentrating on my hair, which stank the most.