Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Chapter 32: Silken Smoke

After an hour, Kaji, Kodak, and the two kats emerged from the entryway of the Three Pearls restaurant.

Minerva watched them from across the street where she'd taken up her post on a settle. Above her head an awning belonging to a bookseller's shop shaded her from the noon sun. She'd made a purchase and flipped through its pages while waiting, but hadn't read a word. Between thinking and trying not to get tipped onto the ground from the seat's three uneven legs, reading mattered only as a pretense.

Kaji's chattering reached across the street. He bounced around Kodak like a manticore cub that wanted to play until Kumiko and Azuki finally jumped to the street stones to walk on their own. When they caught sight of Minerva, the group of four started making their way over to meet her.

Leaving the book behind, Minerva glanced down both ends of the street before crossing. She'd had time to clear her head. Not as much as she would've liked, but enough to regain some self-control and determine her next moves.

During her period of thinking, Minerva realized she'd make a mistake in dismissing Kaolin. If she'd ripped one of her eyes out of its socket, it couldn't have left her blinder. But she also suspected the spy's loyalties were divided. Even if they weren't, she could not help her with this particular problem—their history didn't go back far enough.

Edina and Vren were dead. Her parents could not be trusted and Nola might not possess the right knowledge.

She needed Matsudo.

"We brought you some gyoza." Kaji held up a skewer with half a dozen small dumplings impaled along its length. The white dough looked so soft that the stick would rip through it except Kaji held it straight up with the bottom dumpling resting on his fist.

"Pelmeni, Kaji. Pelmeni. Those aren't gyoza," Kodak said.

Minerva blinked at the unexpected offering and was careful to transfer the stick from Kaji's hand to hers without any dumpling casualties. "Thank you."

"They look like gyoza," Kaji said to Kodak.

Kodak threw his hands up. "But do they taste the same?" he asked in a strained voice.

Whatever they are, eating them like this is hardly respectable, Minerva thought, closing her mouth over one on the skewer and pulling it off. Warmth and savory juice exploded in her mouth. Definitely don't taste the same. She'd ignored the pangs of hunger, but now she couldn't hold back from gulping down the food as fast as she could chew.

"Well no, they don't taste the same," Kaji admitted.

Kodak crossed his arms in triumph. "I rest my case. Now, let's get going."

Minerva burned the empty skewer in her hand, letting the wood curl up like a worm in the heat before dissolving to ash. She dusted her hands off. "Where are we headed now?"

Kaji held up a cloth bundle in the shape of a box. "Bringing food home so my mama can get better. She says good cooking is the best cure." He looked cleaner now; face scrubbed rid of dirt and soft brown eyes free of suspicion.

The boy was fast asleep and Minerva would not be the one to wake him from the dream.

"Don't go too far ahead," she called as Kaji and the kats ran down the street.

She and Kodak followed, keeping their voices low. Their steps synced into an almost militant marching rhythm.

"Are you going to be alright?" Kodak asked.

"Yes, but why are we going with him?" Minerva responded, her eyes trained on the boy.

"You don't need to feel bad about what happened. It wasn't your fault."