“Thank you.”

The man gave her a wary nod. “Don’t tell him it was me.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Bri replied with a grin, patting him on the shoulder and grabbing the keys from his hand. She selected the one his trembling hands had struggled to grip and unlocked the door for him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, a surprised look on his face.

Bri tipped her chin to him and dashed off down the road. He probably would have fumbled with his keys all night if she hadn’t intervened. Walking as quickly as she could without drawing suspicion, Bri rushed down the streets of Southside. It was still early in the evening, and the streets were filled with people. Luckily this seedy part of town was populated by people who also hid in cloaks, and Bri fit right into the crowds . . . but so did Lina.

Chapter Thirteen

She ducked down the poorly lit road, reaching the third townhouse on the right. Sure enough, the paint chipped from the clay walls and the roof looked one heavy rain from collapse. The door was shut by a piece of string hooked on a nail. Clearly the lock had been broken so many times it wasn’t worth replacing. Bri stared at the door for another breath, grimacing at the foul stench from the brown fluid that flowed down the open gutters.

“Of course,” Lina’s voice growled.

Bri turned toward the voice with a wicked grin. “Thought you could get rid of me that easily?”

An elderly witch appeared beside Lina, her weathered brown hands touching her totem bag as she looked at Bri.

“It was worth a try,” Lina huffed. “How did you know I’d come here?”

“You said thieves can pass out judgment as they see fit.” Bri’s tone filled with menace. “And of all the people you received today, this man is the one I’d like to see judgment passed out on the most.”

“Agreed,” Lina said, gesturing to the witch. “This is Baba Omly, High Priestess of the brown witches. She knows who I am.”

Bri’s eyes widened as she looked at the elderly witch. She had short coils of gray hair, a warm face, and glowing brown eyes.

“That I do, Airev,” the witch said with a deep, rasping chuckle.

“What’s a High Priestess doing in Southside?” Bri furrowed her brow.

Baba Omly gave a calm smile. “I am a healer. This is where our magic is needed most.”

Bri considered the High Priestess. She had expected her to be presiding over a grand temple somewhere, not a rancid back alley. Royal fae and High Priestesses were known to work together, but this . . . It was foolish for a ruler to be gallivanting around without protection, so headstrong, and yet, she respected Lina for it. Bri glanced into the shadows of Lina’s hood. She would probably do the same thing if she were in Lina’s position.

Stepping forward, Lina rapped on the door. A delicate, light knock—an odd sound in this part of town, where people were probably more used to hearing pounding fists. Not a peep came in reply, but the door string was tied to the inner nail, signaling someone had shut the door from inside.