He’s deposited Ettie on his shoulders so that she can get a better view of the scene, and she, oblivious to what’s unfolding below, is laughing in delight.

Our gazes are locked, and to the gentleman’s credit, he doesn’t even raise an eyebrow.

I bare my teeth. “Put her down,” I command.

His voice is calm and deep as he begs my pardon. “Forgive me, little Cat,” he says.

How does he know I’m a Cat? I am not familiar with this man’s face, and yet he knows my Guild. He gently lowers Ettie to the ground.

“Oh, Nina! The little monkey is adorable!”

I take her firmly by the arm and draw her away from the man before lowering my dagger. My eyes remain fixed on his, and he slowly raises a hand, palm up, to show he bears no weapon. And on his palm is a scar, as if someone stabbed his flesh with intent. The mark of a bone oath.

“We are of one blood, thou and I,” he murmurs.

My eyes widen. He cocks his head slightly in a motion that means he wants to speak. I glance at Ettie, and when I look up again, I see nothing but a mass of people. Then I spot him, on the move, swallowed by the crowd.

The crowd is like an ocean, thick and heaving. With a careful eye on the gentleman, I jostle past a knife grinder sharpening a cleaver on his treadle and a stick seller waving whips, crops, and walking sticks at anyone who will listen. Ahead of us, the brown velvet top hat bobs.

We plunge into a crowd lining up around the fountain. If people can’t eat, at least they can fill their bellies with water. There’s no semblance of order, and we pass some poor maids and kitchen boys. I stop behind a servant wearing a fine velvet coat; his clothing tells me he is employed by an important house. I wink at Ettie and she nods in understanding. I push her gently and she falls into the servant.

The man curses. Ettie is all apologies and pleas for forgiveness. Meanwhile, I slip a hand into his coat and relieve him of a coin for water, and another for luck. I whistle low, and Ettie disentangles herself and meets me a little away in the crowd. I pull out the coins and show them to her. She laughs the silvery laugh that I love.

I give Ettie the coins. “Ask for half a bucket and drink your fill. We’ve got nothing else to put in our stomachs.”

I push past some fine-liveried footmen but do not see the gentleman. I look around. There’s a stand of trees nearby, and I head toward them. If he’s anywhere, he’ll be there, where it would be harder to see us between the trunks.

Indeed, he is waiting for me, arms crossed, leaning against a tree.

“Good hunting, sister.” He greets me with a bob of his head.