Page 43 of City of Stone and Silence

I have no idea if I helped Toma specifically, but I bow anyway, accepting his thanks on behalf of Grandma and the hospital. “Grandma said you’re giving some friends a place to hide.”

He nods. “But you can’t keep them here long. The Ward Guard are searching storefronts, and Giba from the peanut stall says they’re coming this way soon.”

“We’ll get them somewhere safe,” I tell him, feeling a stab of guilt. Maybe tarrying for an hour in the market with Garo hadn’t been entirely harmless. “Where are they?”

He glances out into the main room. The porters have left, and only the old man is still there.

“In here,” he says, unlocking the storeroom with a key at his belt.

Inside, barrels and bushels are stacked high, one wall lined with shelves holding bottles of sauce and spices. Amidst the mess are three boys in their late teens, sitting cross-legged on the floor. They wear rough clothes, and from their disheveled state they’ve been hiding out for some time.

“Wik has to piss again,” one of the boys says, as soon as the door opens.

“Again?” Genza says. “You’re supposed to be hiding.”

“I can’t help it!” shrieks the youngest boy, presumably Wik.

“Well, get your things,” Genza says. “This is Tori. She’s going to take you somewhere safe.”

“I thought this was supposed to be somewhere safe,” the third boy says. He looks the oldest, and his eyes narrow suspiciously.

“Nowhere’s safe forever,” Genza says darkly. To me, he adds, “This is Gokto, Bel, and Wik. Try not to strangle them.”

I raise my hands. “Just follow me, and everything will be fine.”

“You?” The oldest, who Genza had called Gokto, glares at me. “She’s just a little girl.”

“She works for Grandma Tadeka,” Genza says. “So you do what she says.”

“Bel, I don’t know about this,” Gokto says.

“Tori,” Garo hisses.

“I can handle this,” I mutter. “Just keep an eye out.”

“I am keeping an eye out,” Garo says. “This looks bad.”

Genza, with a squeak, runs back to the counter. A moment later I hear him say, “Yes, gentlemen? Can I help you?”

“It’s ‘Captain,’” a humorless voice answers. “And you can help me by letting my men search your premises.”

I know that flat, arrogant tone. Ward Guard, for certain. I bring my eye to the slit in the curtain and swallow a yelp. There’s a half dozen of them, the captain and a broad-shouldered sergeant backed up by four soldiers with swords and clubs.

“Now what?” Garo whispers.

“We just had a search this morning,” Genza says, his voice taking on a wheedling tone. “Surely it isn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me, old man,” the captain says. “And you can’t afford my rates these days, so don’t even ask about a payoff.” The rest of the squad chuckles darkly. “Now open up the storeroom.”

Genza glances in my direction. Garo’s looking at me, too. So are the three boys.

Why is everyone looking at me?

“I can distract them for a few minutes,” Garo says. “Can you get everybody out the back?”

I nod, grasping at this lifeline. Genza, hearing this, ducks back. “But—”

“What’s going on back there?” the captain cuts in.