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from Kestrel’s Dance by Misty Massey

The men throwing hounscozza cubes erupted into cheers and raucous teasing. Their noise proved enough for the reader. Slamming his book closed, he tossed back his drink and stood. Now that she could see his face, Kestrel realized she’d seen him before. She pressed her hands flat on the table, letting the residual ache remind her to stay calm. On Eldraga, after her fight with the knife-fighter. This was the strange man who stopped at her table and made the vague threat about the fish slipping its net, one she hadn’t put any stock in at the time. Yet she’d heard the threat more and more, and now here he was. With all that had happened, she wasn’t in a mind to think it was coincidence.

The man squinted at her. He smiled slowly, no trace of humor in his eyes. He rubbed his free hand over his belly, and marched out the door before she could say anything. The Islands weren’t so big that a person wouldn’t run into people this way, but something was wrong.

“Shadd,” she said. When the big man glanced over, she beckoned him to her. “That man who was reading in the corner — did you notice him leave just now?”

He furrowed his brow. “I think so, Captain. Is somethin’ amiss?”

“Can you follow him a bit? And tell me where he stops?”

“On my way,” he said. He stopped at his table and muttered something to McAvery, then sauntered out the door, as if he’d meant to go all along.

“What’s wrong, my girl?” Binns asked.

“Did you know that man?”

“Can’t say I do. He usually orders a drink and reads until his mug is empty. Hasn’t given the barmaid any trouble.”

Of course not. There’d have been no reason to draw attention to himself, not if he was waiting for someone. For her. “He approached me on Eldraga. Very mysterious. He said something strange to me about a fish not staying netted, then walked away.”
Binns’ eyes widened. “Did he say anythin’ else?”

“No,” she said. “Why?”

He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “I had a network of informants, back in my day. You might recall one of ’em givin’ you a message about roses and thorns one time.”

She did remember. On Eldraga, the night before Binns was arrested and jailed, and his ship stolen from the harbor. She’d believed the messenger to be a drunken tramp at the time, talking nonsense. “You mean that was one of yours?”

“He wasn’t. But that phrase, ‘fish not staying netted’? That was one o’ mine.”

“What did it mean?”

He frowned. “It means someone you thought safely locked away may have gotten loose.”


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My thanks to Psst…/Let’s Talk Promotions for the invitation to participate in this Book Tour and the materials (including the book) they provided.