COMMAND THE TIDES - Wren Handman Page 0,25

her slide back to his lap, surreptitiously squeezing her backside as he did. She flicked him with no malice.

“Y’know, y’ever get tired ’a that skinning rail of a man, you be wantin’ somethin’ a touch more…substantial.” He gave her a meaningful look. “You just needs to ask.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m considering it,” she told him with a laugh, and he swelled with make-believe pride. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then gave the women a significant look. “And trust me—when he says substantial, he isn’t telling a fish-tale.”

Andrew grinned, and one of the girls looked thoughtful, though the other just glared harder.

“You sure are somethin’, Tay,” he told her, and she grinned as she stood.

“I know. I’ll drop by tomorrow and catch up.” She started to walk away, but turned back after a few steps. “And if you see Darren, tell him he’s in hot water!” she called, loud as you please, and Andrew laughed again.

“Will do! Ashua with you.”

“And you!” she said, and then turned back. Her steps were brisker on this leg of the journey, but she decided it was plausible. The sun was setting, sending a crimson glow through the sky, and she didn’t want to be caught out after dark. She glanced again at the red sky, and a rhyme Darren had often quoted came to mind. Red in the morning, sailor take warning. Red at night, sailor’s delight. Sailor’s delight. She hummed to herself, a bounce in her step. She had solved the problem of the spy. Darren would be proud.

Chapter Five

BY THE TIME TAYA WALKED THROUGH her doorway, the sun had set and the Lighters had lit the lamps that were interspersed along the streets. She was so tired her head had begun to throb fiercely, and no wonder. She had been awake for two days straight, and they had been two of the most harrowing of her life. A day and a night of the most harrowing, to be fair, she corrected herself mentally, and couldn’t help but smile. She barred the door behind herself, not needing to put the lanterns out because she had forgotten to light them in the first place. Every step seemed suddenly a battle, and it was with supreme effort that she managed to drag herself step by step up the creaking, groaning stairs.

She went over to Darren’s door, intending to wish him good night, but stopped with her ear to the threshold. Voices were coming from within, and she recalled Darren’s mention of an all-important meeting. She hesitated with a hand half-raised, wondering if she should interrupt to tell them about the man she had seen following her. After long deliberation, she let her hand fall. She had thrown the man off course, hadn’t she? The danger wasn’t immediate. Still, she resolved to stay awake until the meeting was concluded and she could tell someone about what she had seen.

With this in mind she went back down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she set the kettle over the fire, which she then built up to a roaring blaze. When she had finished she sat for a moment on her kitchen stool, waiting for the water to heat up, but her eyes kept sinking closed. She knew she had to do something or she would be out like a candle flame, so with a groan of protesting muscles she heaved herself to her feet. She had left a giant bin of washing sitting outside, and she decided now was as good a time as any to get it all done. Usually she washed clothes outside so they would be easy to hang to dry, but there was no reason not to wash her clothes in the kitchen tub.

She went out and got the wooden bin, dragging rather than carrying it back inside. It was easily small enough to be lifted, but she wanted to conserve what little strength she had left for lugging the water from the pump to the tub. By the time she had carried the tenth bucket there and back, the water was boiling and Taya’s entire body was screaming at her physical abuse.

Wondering what in Ashua’s prayers had made her think that washing her clothes in the dead of night was a good way to stay awake, she temporarily abandoned the task in order to add leaves to the boiling water. She laid her head against her arms, willing the leaves to steep just a little bit faster. Her eyes were