The manager was suspicious of her absence, and spent the evening following her around.

Kailas kept her head down, but was unable to find an opportunity to leave. Distracted, she muddled up orders, dropped cutlery and spilled beer on the flagstones by the bar.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ The manager loomed over her, as she mopped up the spillage. ‘You need to concentrate!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Kailas leant on the mop, hanging her head. ‘I don’t feel well. I must be coming down with something.’

‘You seemed fine earlier,’ the manager huffed. ‘Try and finish your shift. And smile. You’re putting the customers off their food.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Kailas grabbed her stomach and doubled over. The situation called for emergency measures. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

‘Not in here, you’re not.’ The manager took her by the arm and pulled her towards the kitchen. ‘Get in there and sort yourself out.’

Kailas staggered alongside him, water sloshing from her pail. She pulled out of his grip and lurched towards the swing-doors, clamping one hand over her mouth as though battling nausea. At the door, she glanced back to see if he was following.

The manager stopped short with a pained expression.

‘If you go off shift, I’ll have to dock your wages.’

Kailas let the door swing shut on him, muttering, ‘You’re all heart.’

The serving staff and cooks were flat out with their orders. If she was going to leave, it had to be now.

She dumped her mop and bucket by the sink. The pot-boy barely looked up from his neverending labour. Dirty plates were stacked high on the countertop, alongside a tray of leftovers. She grabbed some untouched sausages, sandwiched them between two flatbreads and tucked them down her tabard pocket. A slab of marchcake and large wedge of cheese joined the sausage.

Kailas headed through the kitchens and into the pantry. At the end, past the stacked crates of vegetables, sacks of grain and kegs of ale, was a service staircase that led up to her room under the eaves.

On any other night, she would have been heading up with a few swigs of dramsear inside her to ward off the cold - one of the few privileges the manager allowed. As she shivered her way up the draughty stairs to her bedroom door, she regretted the fact she hadn’t thought to nab a bottle.

Kailas pushed through the door to the sound of panicked pattering overhead, followed by silence. She shared her bedroom with a rogue mouse who had proved impossible to catch, despite baiting mousetraps with crushed nuts and cheese.

She closed and latched the door. Through her small, dusty window, moonlight cast a ghostly light on the pile of kindling and logs lying ready in the hearth. Kailas looked longingly at the fireplace and thought of all the nights she’d spent tucked up in bed, staring at the warm, crackling flames until she fell asleep. This place had been her haven for almost twelve weeks. It was a tiny space, but she would be sorry to leave it.

She blew on her hands to warm them, then reached under the mattress for her dagger belt and strapped it round her waist.

Kailas wrapped her shawl round her neck, threw on her travelling cloak and dragged her rucksack from beneath the bedframe. There wasn’t much to pack - clothes, hairbrush, flannel and soap. Her tinderbox and a fold-out map of Pereguard that included a city plan of Ordasius. The map stopped short at the border with Ithos Darg, a fact that gave her pleasure every time she looked at it.

After packing the food she’d pilfered and filling her water skin from the flagon on the table, she divided her wages within the secret pocket sewn within her trousers and her money pouch. She would leave her Mealduthian black bits; she’d brought them in the hope they had value in Pereguard, but the currency was worthless outside Ithos Darg. She tipped them into the ashpan, covering them with ash.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Troubled thoughts regarding the stranger swirled round her mind. He had walked into the tavern under the noses of over a hundred people. Yet, his impressive feat was countered by his unpleasant, supercilious demeanour. ‘I am acting in Avellion’s best interests,’ he said, as though he had dominion over the fate of a nation.

He had said her whereabouts were no longer secret, and made it clear – the Mayqsa posed a danger not just to her, but everyone.

Kailas swung the window open. Biting wind came through as she pulled on her gloves and looked down. Below, an alley ran down the side of the tavern to the kitchens. It lay quiet, with all the staff hard at work.

The ground was a long way away. She had considered sneaking out through the back parlour, but the head cook’s lurchers had a bark on them that could wake the dead.

An ornamental hookvine spread across the outer wall. Its sturdy, bare branches radiated from a central trunk that clung to the brickwork via an array of hairy tendrils.

Kailas lowered her rucksack out of the window, swung it wide of the vine, and let it drop. It made a dull thud as it hit the ground. After waiting a moment to ensure the sound hadn’t attracted attention, she slung one leg over the sill and started clambering down the gnarled trunk. Its ancient twists provided convenient handholds, and she made it safely to the bottom in a shower of dislodged frost and snapping twigs.

She yanked her cloak free from a snag and brushed herself down before retrieving her rucksack.

A low growl came from the dark.

Kailas froze as two pairs of eyes glowed in the moonlight.

‘Who’s there?’ A voice came from behind the snarling creatures. A portly, middle-aged woman wearing a red-tasselled shawl emerged from the shadows by the wall. Even without the dogs, Cook was recognisable by the roll-up in one hand and leather flask in the other.

‘It’s me. Kailas.’

Cook clicked her tongue and the lurchers retreated behind her legs, still growling.

‘Shut up, Ciderlegs,’ she snapped, taking a deep drag from her roll-up. She looked Kailas up and down. ‘What’re you doing out here in the middle of service?’

Kailas looked at the woman in disbelief. ‘I was about to ask you the same question.’

‘I’ve done my work.’ Cook was notorious for dropping off in her chair in the middle of lunch, leaving others to pick up the slack. Kailas suspected the contents of the flask had something to do with it.

Cook looked up the hookvine to the little attic window, standing open.

‘You must have good reason to risk the climb.’ Cook gave her a hard stare. ‘Running away?’

‘No,’ Kailas spluttered, thinking fast. ‘I’m seeing my boyfriend. We barely get the chance to see each other with all the shifts I’m working.’

‘Didn’t know you had a boyfriend,’ Cook said, eyeing Kailas’s bulging rucksack. ‘Moving in with him, are you?’

Kailas’s mind raced to think of an answer.

‘Just a couple of blankets. His place is freezing.’

‘He’s not worth risking your neck for,’ Cook sniffed. ‘Sods, the lot of them.’

Kailas shifted her weight from one foot to the other, desperate to end the conversation. The stranger’s warning that he would remove anyone he saw her with, was emblazoned in her mind.

Cook reached out and grabbed her arm.

‘I keep an eye on things, girl. Things other people don’t stay awake long enough to see. The manager’s had suspicions about you, the way you came out of nowhere with your strange accent and your dark eyes. He’d be very interested to hear about you climbing out the window, full rucksack and all. But I like you, Kailas. I could be persuaded to overlook it.’

Kailas ground her teeth. ‘What do you want?’

‘A crown should do it.’ Cook ground the stub of her smoke into the ground with the heel of her boot.

‘That’s extortion!’ Kailas hissed, determined to protect her hard-earned wages.

‘Listen to it.’ Cook clicked to her dogs, blowing a stream of smoke into the night. The largest beast stared at Kailas. A low rumble rose from its throat.

‘One crown. That’s the price for my silence. Take it or leave it.’

Kailas bit back a retort, remembering the stranger’s warning. She rummaged in her pocket with an exasperated sigh and pressed a large coin into Cook’s hand.

‘Very nice.’ Cook took the coin and tested the edge against her teeth before sliding it into the pockets of her skirts. ‘I’ll give you until midday to come back, or don’t bother coming back at all.’

‘I paid you for your silence!’ Kailas couldn’t keep her voice down.

‘Didn’t say for how long though, did I?’ Cook grinned back. ‘I’ll be on my way. Come on, boys.’ She squeezed the muzzle of the nearest lurcher, prompting a deep growl.

Cook headed back to the kitchens, the lurchers padding behind.

Kailas didn’t move until the oak door closed. Her heart thumped in her chest. She’d been discovered the instant she left the building. And fleeced, to boot. If she couldn’t evade the half-cut cook, what chance did she have of escaping the Mayqsa?