over to me. “Look,” she says, subtly motioning to the general direction where Gemma is heading. “The sailor we just saw her talking to. He’s heading that way as well.”
My sister’s right. I pick out the back of his head among the people. He smiles and laughs at a few children that cross his path, but there’s no doubt about it—he must be following Gemma too.
I touch Violetta’s arm. “Don’t stay too close,” I say as I start walking. I weave a subtle illusion over her face, changing her features enough to make her unrecognizable should Gemma ever look back.
Off in the crowd, Magiano flickers in and out of sight. When I look to my right, Sergio’s hair peeks out from the throngs. We move together, unorganized yet coordinated. I’m reminded of the first time I ever saw the Daggers go on a mission—and a ripple of excitement runs down my spine.
We head down the same street that Gemma entered. As we do, I see her turn around to look down at the dog still trailing faithfully behind her. She smiles, bends down, and rubs its ears. Even though I know her power, I’m somehow still surprised to see the dog turn obediently around, as if led by an invisible hand, and walk away from her without another backward glance. I slide between two clusters of people and look on, awed for a moment. There is something quiet and warm about this tiny, temporary bond between the girl and the dog. What must it feel like to harness joy and love, instead of fear and hate? What kind of light does that cast?
I lose her a few times in the thick of the crowds. She makes her way out of the busy sections of the port, then heads up a small hill to what looks like a tiny tavern at the end of a street. I look behind me, wondering where Magiano and Sergio are. Violetta walks several paces behind me, stopping now and then to weave her way through pockets of people.
Finally, up ahead, Gemma turns where the tavern’s main entrance is. She doesn’t try to go through the front—instead, she steps into a side street and disappears from view. I hurry along, trying to stay in the shadows along the edges of the buildings. Not many people wander here. No Inquisitors to be seen. I wait until I’m fairly alone on the street, and then I wrap myself in threads of energy. I blend into the shadows, and then I become the shadows, until no one notices my invisible figure heading up to the tavern.
I turn onto the street where I saw Gemma go, then stop at the corner to watch.
She’s standing at a back entrance of the tavern with several others, a space so narrow and shadowed that no one would think to turn back here. I recognize Lucent immediately—her copper curls are tied back into a bushy tail, and she has a frown on her face. Michel is there, but Raffaele is not, and a bald boy I don’t recognize is talking in low voices with Gemma. The sailor we saw down at the pier is here too, along with a couple of others. Are these new Dagger recruits? It seems as if everyone has gathered here to wait for Gemma. I make sure my invisibility is intact, and then I walk forward. I keep going until their voices drift to me and I can understand what they’re saying.
Gemma’s voice comes to me first. She’s arguing with Lucent. “At least Raffaele is safely there,” she says.
Lucent lifts a brow and shakes her head, as if this were the first time she’s hearing the news. “He’s going to get himself killed,” Lucent replies, “the instant they leave him alone with Teren. Why couldn’t we have just asked for an audience directly with the queen?”
I hold my breath. Raffaele is back in the Estenzian palace, by his own choice? What are they planning now?
“Giulietta would never hold an audience with us and risk her life,” Gemma says. “Trust your queen, Lucent—Maeve knows what she’s doing. Giulietta will be forced to dine with her and celebrate her arrival, which should give Raffaele time to deliver what he wants to say.”
Maeve. Queen. I think back, remembering after a moment that Lucent is originally from Beldain. If Maeve is her queen, then Maeve must be the Queen of Beldain. Beldain is working with the Daggers.