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I’est--probably unwisely--that we head downstairs or go for a walk or anything that will getrooh the door Soainst the wall, followed by er at rabs her bow from the floor

A knock sounds "It’s me," calls Belén

"Enter," I say, but I unsheathe er

The door creaks open, and Belén thrusts the girl Mula ahead of him She stumbles to her knees, then curls into a tiny ball on the floor, hands protecting her head The bright blue slave marks on her heels are very clear now--thick circles, each with a dot in the middle It’s like her feet have eyes, and I shudder

"I found her snooping in the roo onto the floor beside her "That was in her hand"

Belén’s jerky pouch A harht to keep our real valuables alithin reach

"I didn’t ht, and I tried to o away, but it smelled so--"

I reach down for the pouch, and she flinches so hard she knocks the side of her head onto the floorboards

"I’ to hurt you," I say "Sit up Look at me"

She does, but her eyes are as wide and her ainst the cot and huddles there, knees to chest Her arms and calves are stick thin, and shiny calluses encircle her wrists and ankles Soht

I reach into the pouch for a piece of jerky and toss it to her She snatches it midair and shoves into her mouth

"So I’m curious, Mulais that your real naaze on me does not waver

"It will do for now Mula, if you weren’t in the room to steal, ere you there?"

Her mouth freezes She looks to Belén, back to me

"It’s an easy question," I say

She ss the jerky and says, "Just curious About as in your packs I wanted to knohat marjoram smells like"

"Did Orlín put you up to it?" Mara asks gently

She hesitates a little too long before saying, "No I did itcontradiction

"God despises liars," Storm says, and I shoot hi my thumbnail with my teeth The innkeeper’s relentless curiosity is a probleht ht’s rest in actual beds "All right, then Everyone pack up We’re leaving"

"No!" cries the girl "He’ll--"

Belén grabs her by the collar and hauls her to her feet

"Gently!" Mara says "She’s just a little girl"

He scowls, but he relaxes his grip "I’ accounted for"

We gather our things quickly My pack feels light, and I remember that Mara and I each have a set of clothes with the laundress But I’ to wait

We shoulder our packs and head downstairs The common room is crowded now, thick with shter and music Three men near the hearth strum vihuelas, and their enthusiasm almost makes up for the reed-thin sound of the poorly h the croard us, carrying tooden s He sets therubby, weathered hands Orlín wipes his hands on his apron, shouting, "Some ale for you all? I also have a nice batch of dandelion wine in the cellar"

"We’re leaving," I say

Before I can blink, he swings his huge ar into a bench "What did you do?" he bellows

Mula clutches for the bench, ain She tries to pull herself to her feet, but she reels, her knees buckling

Orlín takes a step toward the girl, but in a flash, Mara’s dagger is at his throat "Leave her be," she says with deadly calhter in the rooainst the wood floor Somewhere behind me, a sword is whisked from its scabbard We are surrounded and outnumbered

Mara, what have you done?

My hand twitches toward er, but I don’t pull it Not yet Neither do Stor up our options Maybe the situation can still be salvaged

The knob of Orlín’s throat bobs against the point of Mara’s dagger "It’s the height of rudeness," he says, his gaze on Mara’s fisted grip, "for a guest to draw in a man’s own hoirl senseless"

"The mule is mine I can do whatever I ith it Do you tell the cook not to slice the turnips? Do you tell the scullery s?"

Mara’s face reddens The daggers presses deeper Blood wells at its tip, and a tiny rivulet slips downs the innkeeper’s neck and disappears under his collar The co, the creak of a floorboard, e in the hearth

We must withdraw at once, but I’er at the innkeeper’s throatback utter chaos

Think, Elisa

Mula whilance Her eyes are glazed Blood streams from a cut on her forehead