presented her with a pair of brown gloves in a brown felt hat.
She wedged the hair sticks securely up into the tall crown of the hat for safekeeping, then fitted the hat onto her head. Jauntily, she touched the brim to the man as she walked out into the cool night.
She felt exceptionally pleased with herself as she strolled back to the chophouse to wait for Stanton. Indeed, she felt quite manly and direct. Ruthless, that had been Stanton’s word. She felt keen and ruthless. She felt like buying a cigar and smoking it with one thumb tucked under her suspender. Instead she tucked her hand into the jacket pocket and found, to her surprise, that the suit’s previous owner had left a fine linen handkerchief there. She pulled it out, examined it. It was embroidered with the letter “M.” For Mike probably.
Ruthless Mike, that’s what they’d call her.
Now, however, standing in front of Stanton she felt somewhat less ruthless and somewhat more ridiculous. She reached into the pocket of her vest and pulled out a folded wad of greenbacks.
“Twenty dollars for the hair,” she said. “That’ll feed you to New Bethel, at least.”
“Your … hair?”
“I’d appreciate a thank-you.” She frowned at him. “You needn’t look so shocked.”
Stanton said nothing. His eyes were trying to negotiate a peace with the suit, with no apparent success. He gestured to it hesitantly.
“And this?”
“I couldn’t ride in a dress,” Emily said. “And you have to admit, it’s a perfect disguise. The Maelstroms will be looking for a man and a woman, not a man and a—”
“Tablecloth?”
Emily crossed her arms and looked at him coldly.
“I know I’m hardly a plate of fashion,” she said, “but one must be ruthless when exceptional odds are arrayed against one. You said it yourself.”
Stanton took a deep breath, then let out a heavy sigh. He took the wad of greenbacks between thumb and forefinger as if they were soiled.
“At least they could have paid you in gold,” he muttered. Then he fell silent, shaking his head. There was a look on his face, a look that was both sad and amused. It was a look that she didn’t quite understand and didn’t particularly like.
“What?” Emily snapped, uncrossing her arms.
He was silent for a long time before he spoke. Then he fished in his pocket and pulled out the ten-dollar coin she had given him. He pressed it into her hand.
“Your hair was very pretty,” he said, finally.
CHAPTER TEN
Basket of Secrets
They wasted no time riding out. Dawn was approaching and they wanted to squeeze whatever advantage they could out of the cover of darkness. They did not, however, ride down to the ferry terminal at the end of Market Street. Instead they rode along Second Street until they reached the silent, jagged wharves. Full-bearded, heavy-bodied men arriving for their day’s work regarded them curiously.
“One of the men at my stables has a brother who’s a stevedore on China Basin,” Stanton explained in a low voice. “He has made arrangements for us to cross tonight on a freight barge.”
They led the horses down an old, rickety-looking pier, where the aforementioned brother hailed Stanton, his subdued call sounding abrupt and out of place in the predawn silence.
They and the horses were loaded onto a flat black scow that brooded on the dark water. Grunting, monosyllabic men pointed them to a cargo hold, where Emily and Stanton were left to make themselves comfortable among piles of burlap bags and rough wooden crates. Romulus and Remus whuffed discontentedly, nosing at the sawdust that covered the floor.
“All right, I’m ready for an explanation,” Emily said. “Somehow you managed to save my money, which means you didn’t pay your stabler. But he was still willing to ask his brother to smuggle us aboard a barge?”
“Oh, I paid him,” Stanton said. “You’ll never guess what he wanted.”
“What?”
“Apparently, there’s a certain young lady who works in a shop up the street from his stables. He asked if I could fashion a charm that might help win her affections.”
Emily squealed with sudden laughter, and despite the tightness of her linen bindings, it felt surprisingly good. “You mean he wanted you, Dreadnought Stanton, the great Warlock, to make him a love charm? So what did you do?”
“I braided together a straw poppet for him to give to her. I imbued it with some general powers of attraction. I was careful not to make it too strong.”
Emily thought of Dag, and sobered abruptly. This unhappy turn of events meant that