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“Something is happening,” Ford whispered.

Grace glanced to the side where the sounds were coming from. It was impossible to see what was happening there because of the interweaving streets and the buildings blocking the view, but her eyes widened in horror. She clutched Ford’s forearm, her fingers digging into his sleeve. “We need to run.”

Ford seized her hand, gripping her tightly. He had just found his Triss again. He wasn’t letting her go.

They dashed to the right, away from the ominous sounds, their footsteps echoing off the narrow alleyways. Ford’s mind raced, calculating their best chance of escape. He wanted to be as out of the way of them as possible.

But as they changed direction, the marching sounds seemed to shift as if coming from all around them. Ford’s jaw clenched, a cold dread settling in his stomach. “Damn it,” he muttered, his voice low and tense. “We must have been spotted at your house. And now it seems as though we are surrounded.”

His eyes scanned their surroundings frantically, searching for any means of escape. Suddenly, he spotted a small alcove tucked away in the alley, partially obscured by hanging sheets left out to dry. A plan formed in his mind, desperate but perhaps their only option.

“Here’s the new plan,” Ford said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he pulled Grace—Triss, or whatever her true name was—toward the hidden spot. The urgency of the moment left no time to dwell on her multiple identities. “You will hide here. I will go and meet the mysterious horsemen and see what they want. Perhaps it’s not even you who they’re looking for.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Are you jesting?”

“No.” His voice was firm, brooking no argument. He gripped her shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of her dress as he maneuvered her into the hidden nook, pressing her back against the stone wall. “Crouch down so I won’t see you behind these drying sheets.”

Grace’s eyes were wide with panic, darting between Ford’s face and the alley beyond. For a moment, he thought she might resist, but then she complied, sinking into a crouch. Ford took a step back, his gaze sweeping over the alcove.

The hanging sheets, grimy and worn, created a perfect curtain. Grace’s form disappeared entirely behind them, blending into the shadows. “I can’t see you,” he said. “Very well. I shall leave now—”

She stood. “And what if they are looking for me?”

“Then I shall tell them I saw you in the opposite direction.”

“This is foolish,” Grace hissed. “If they truly tracked us since my house then they know we are together.”

“I am a thief-taker. I can weasel my way out.”

Grace bit her lower lip. “And what if you can’t?”

The thundering of hooves grew louder with each passing second. They were running out of time to debate this plan. “Listen to me carefully,” he said as he stepped toward her, his voice low and intense. “Sit down, hide, and do not come out until I get you.”

* * *

Do not come out until I get you.

The words struck Grace like a lightning bolt, unleashing a torrent of memories. Her mother’s voice, saying those exact words, echoed in her mind. The images of what had followed flashed before her eyes, vivid and terrifying.

No! She would not be complacent anymore. Not again.

As Ford turned away, Grace surged to her feet, her hand shooting out to grab his arm. “No,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I will not cower here and let you go out into danger all by yourself.”

Ford turned back, a deep frown etching lines across his forehead. “They are not after me. Stay. Here.”

“You don’t know that!” Grace hissed. “Jamison and Harmony know you’re associated with me. How do you know they are not after you as well?” Her voice softened, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. “I will not let you take the blame for me. I won’t have you killed and have that on my conscience.”

He gripped her forearm tightly, pushing her back to the little alcove. “Grace—” he began, but she twisted away from his grasp.

“It’s me they want,” Grace declared, her chin lifted in defiance. “I will distract them, and you can escape. This is a better plan.”

Ford muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like obstinate wench. Grace chose to ignore it.

“If one of us is to survive, you have the better chance,” she insisted, trying to appeal to his logic.

Ford’s eyes flashed dangerously, his voice dropping to a low growl. “You are mad if you think that I have any interest in surviving at your expense.”

Grace cocked her head. “Seriously?” she asked, incredulity clear in her tone. “And yet you think I am fine with surviving at yours?”