The Smoke-Scented Girl by Melissa McShane Page A

glanced at her once again, and this time met her
eyes as she did the same. Her skin appeared too creamy, as if she
had no pores, and he wanted to touch it to see if that were true.
Her face was expressionless, and after a moment she looked away.
Evon flexed his fingers, once again resisting the urge to tether
her like a kite to keep her from drifting away.
    He kept an eye out, as they walked, for
Odelia or anyone who looked like a member of Speculatus, casting
their net wide in the hopes of catching Miss Haylter in it. It was
a pointless impulse; Odelia and anyone she had with her would be
dressed just like anyone else. But meeting Odelia had roused some
of the old paranoia he felt whenever he dealt with her. Suppose she
had approached him because she knew why he was in Inveros, and had
used him to find the rogue magician? Evon felt his shoulders
beginning to hunch defensively. It was not beyond possibility that
Odelia would attack them in the middle of the street, despite the
throng of innocent bystanders.
    “Is something wrong?” Miss Haylter said. Her
husky voice had no emotion to it.
    “Nothing,” Evon said, straightening and
trying to walk normally. All he needed was for her to panic and run
away, forcing him either to chase her through the crowded streets
or start the whole process of finding her again. He scanned the
crowd again. Surely Odelia would stand out, dressed like the
harbinger of death she was?
    His heart pounded once, hard, as he realized
Miss Haylter was no longer beside him. He turned to see her
standing three feet away, looking up at the sky, not moving.
Pedestrians brushed past her, but she seemed unaware of their
presence. Evon went to her side and took her arm, not caring that
it was a stupid idea. “Is something wrong?” he asked, echoing her
earlier words.
    “This is a bad idea,” she said. “I can’t help
you. You can’t help me.”
    “Just...give me one hour. Please.” Her arm
lay unresisting in his grasp. “You can’t know what’s possible if
you won’t even talk to me. Please.” How far would he get if he
picked her up and carried her away? About ten feet, that’s how far,
and then she’d start screaming and he’d either be tackled by
concerned citizens or arrested by a stern constabulary, and either
way he’d lose her again.
    She lowered her head to look at him. “You
don’t understand anything.”
    “Then explain it to me. But do it at the inn,
not on the street.” Evon tugged gently on her arm, and after a
moment she began walking. He kept hold of her until they reached
the inn, then indicated she should precede him through the door. An
older woman at the desk glanced up briefly, then gave them both a
longer, disapproving look. “No guests,” she said.
    “My sister,” Evon said, “and she won’t be
staying long. You don’t mind, do you?” He gave her what he hoped
was his most winning smile, when inside he was screaming at yet
another delay. Miss Haylter stared at the wall above the woman’s
head, focused on something only she could see. The woman looked at
Miss Haylter, then at Evon, and began tapping her fingers in a
one-two-three rhythm on the desk. Evon slid a coin across the desk
toward her. She slid it out of sight. “Good day to you both,” she
said, “but your... sister ...better be gone in an hour.”
    “Thank you,” Evon said, and bowed Miss
Haylter toward the stairs, carefully ensuring that she went first
so she wouldn’t have anywhere to flee to, if it came to that.
    “She thought I was a whore,” Miss Haylter
said as they passed the second floor landing.
    “I’m sorry,” Evon said.
    “It doesn’t matter.” They left the stairs at
the third floor and Evon led the way to the fourth door on the
left.
    “Oh. I’m traveling with a friend. He’s no
danger to you, but I wanted to warn you.”
    She turned that blank gaze on him. “You’re no
danger to me either,” she said, and Evon wasn’t sure if she was
talking about his motives or