Free Daughter of Dusk by Livia Blackburne Page A

did take on the girl criminal recently.”
    Santon looked at Kyra again, his eyes narrowing. Kyra dropped into a defensive crouch, but the nobleman spat on the ground and backed away. “I don’t know who you are, wench, but be
careful. Not even Malikel’s protection goes very far.”
    The three wallhuggers turned, and the crowd parted for them as they left.
    Kyra rushed to Idalee’s side, choking back a sob as she tried to discern the extent of Idalee’s injuries. There were cuts and bruises on the girl’s face, and
the way she lay there without propping herself up made Kyra wonder about her arm. Idalee’s breathing was pained and shallow, and her skin was deathly pale.
    “I’m sorry,” Idalee whispered. Her voice was devoid of emotion.
    “Shush.” Kyra wiped the blood from Idalee’s nose. “It wasn’t your fault.” Then Kyra sat up in panic. “Where’s Lettie?”
    “She’s here.” The crowd parted to reveal Ollie holding Lettie’s hand, and Kyra squeezed the girl to her chest. “Are you all right?”
    “Aye.” The child was trembling, but she was otherwise composed. It wasn’t the first beating she’d witnessed.
    The gutter rats crowded around now, a tangle of rags and bony limbs. A girl with mousy features wiped the mud off Idalee’s face, while a pale boy poured water over her cuts. It suddenly
struck Kyra how efficiently they went about their tasks, how everybody seemed to already know what to do when one of their own was gravely hurt.
    “Tell me what happened,” Kyra said to Lettie.
    Lettie wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “It was the same wallhuggers who overturned her bread basket. Idalee called him a sniveling purple-headed worm.”
    Oh, Idalee.
    “We need to get her to a healer,” said Kyra. She looked down at Idalee. “Can you walk?”
    Idalee nodded, her face lined with pain, and Kyra took her good arm to help her up. But after a few steps, Idalee started to whimper and her legs folded underneath her. There was a layer of
sweat on the girl’s brow as Kyra eased her back to the ground, and she was so very pale.
    “Stay with her,” Kyra said to the children. “I’ll be back.”
    Kyra wasn’t aware of much as she sprinted to the Palace, just the next corner to turn and the next person or obstacle to dodge. If anyone complained about her passing so carelessly, she
didn’t hear it. After the Red Shield at the Palace gate waved her in, she made straight for the Palace healer named Ilona, who had tended to Kyra’s wounds before. Though she was in the
Palace’s employ, she wouldn’t hesitate to help an injured child of low birth.
    Ilona was a slender woman with ebony hair and a heart-shaped, freckled face. She took a half step back when she saw Kyra’s wild expression, and listened intently as Kyra related her story.
Once Kyra finished, Ilona gathered two apprentices and took a wagon down to the beggars’ sector. Her lips pressed into a thin line when she saw Idalee. In a commanding voice that belied her
small frame, Ilona ordered the gutter rats away and commanded her apprentices to help Idalee up.
    As the wagon rolled out of the courtyard, the beggar woman Kyra spoke to earlier called after them.
    “The noblemen who beat your friend were the three sons of Lord Agan,” the woman said. “If anyone at the Palace cares to know who did this, or cares at all.”
    Or cares at all.
That was the question.
    Idalee was listless by the time they arrived at the Palace, her head lolling side to side whenever the wagon hit a bump in the road. They brought the girl into Ilona’s patient room, and
the healer set to work right away. She wasted no breath in explaining anything, and Kyra relegated herself and Lettie to the corner of the room, huddling next to shelves of dried spices and staying
as much out of her way as possible. Lettie’s eyes never left her sister. The girl stared at Idalee as if she couldn’t see the healer or apprentices circling her bed at all. It