her eye.
The eight-year-old had finally emerged from the main building into the courtyard, the younger students released later so that older brothers and sisters could meet them if necessary. Head lowered so that his dirty-blond hair covered his face, he plodded across the yard to the gates, books dragging across the cobblestones behind him.
As soon as he reached the gate, he looked up and searched the street. His gaze swept over Kara and Cory with only a flicker of recognition. Then it locked on something farther down the street and his entire body went rigid with tension, his gray eyes widening in fear, hand clenching tight on the strap holding his books.
Kara spun, expecting to see some of the older boys waiting down the street in a small huddle, punching each other in the shoulder and eyeing the students as they left. Her shoulders tensed, her eyes narrowed with rage, but she had to swallow the bitter words that rose in the back of her throat. The bullies weren’t there. Some of the other students were still hanging around—a few older ones waiting impatiently for their younger siblings, a group of two or three chatting—and a few adults were going about their daily errands, but no one else.
Kara turned back to Justin, who still stood in the same place, body trembling slightly. She moved to his side. “What is it, Justin? What’s wrong?”
Justin jumped at her voice, hand jerking his books closer with a thud. His terrified eyes latched onto hers, but for a long moment he said nothing. Then, in a soft, ragged voice, he said, “That man. He’s watching me again.”
“What man?” Cory said from behind them, body bristling with anger. “It isn’t Brent, is it? I told him to leave you alone.”
Justin shook his head. “Not Brent. Him.” He pointed, Kara and Cory glancing down the street, then toward each other, Cory frowning.
“I don’t see anyone, Justin,” Kara said.
Justin’s arm lowered. “He’s not there anymore.” His gaze darted back and forth across the street and he took a step toward Kara as if for protection. “He’s waiting for me. He’s been here every day for the past week.”
“Well, he’s gone now, right?”
Kara glared at Cory, who shrugged and mouthed the word,
What?
over Justin’s head. “Were you walking home by yourself today? I don’t see your mother.”
“She’s at the lord’s manse. Lady Carlsing wanted new curtains.” He edged closer still to Kara as he spoke.
Kara heard Cory sigh, but she ignored him. “We can walk with you, can’t we, Cory?”
He rolled his eyes, but said, “Of course.”
Cory started up a running conversation with her and Justin almost as soon as they left. Justin kept his eyes on the street, face twisted up into a tight frown of worry, but as Cory distracted him, drawing him out with stories from school and rude jokes, the tension that tightened his body relaxed. Kara watched the street as well, catching sight of a group of three Dogs headed toward Stone, another of five Temerite merchants talking rapidly in their own language, but nothing else out of the ordinary. Certainly no strange men watching them or following them. She wondered briefly if Justin had imagined him. He’d always been a little odd, quiet and prone to standing in the shadows of the courtyard while everyone else tussled in the grass off the main cobbles or watched the training in the practice yard. That was why he’d caught the attention of Brent and his group.
But when they reached the steps that led to Justin’s flat, and he darted up to the door and glanced hurriedly in both directions before ducking inside, a shudder of unease coursed down her back.
“What do you think that’s all about?” Cory asked. “Do you think he’s just being . . . well, Justin?”
“I don’t know. At school, he seemed terrified.”
“And it didn’t go away, no matter how awful my jokes were.”
She snorted, then glanced up and down the street one last time . . .
The eight-year-old had finally emerged from the main building into the courtyard, the younger students released later so that older brothers and sisters could meet them if necessary. Head lowered so that his dirty-blond hair covered his face, he plodded across the yard to the gates, books dragging across the cobblestones behind him.
As soon as he reached the gate, he looked up and searched the street. His gaze swept over Kara and Cory with only a flicker of recognition. Then it locked on something farther down the street and his entire body went rigid with tension, his gray eyes widening in fear, hand clenching tight on the strap holding his books.
Kara spun, expecting to see some of the older boys waiting down the street in a small huddle, punching each other in the shoulder and eyeing the students as they left. Her shoulders tensed, her eyes narrowed with rage, but she had to swallow the bitter words that rose in the back of her throat. The bullies weren’t there. Some of the other students were still hanging around—a few older ones waiting impatiently for their younger siblings, a group of two or three chatting—and a few adults were going about their daily errands, but no one else.
Kara turned back to Justin, who still stood in the same place, body trembling slightly. She moved to his side. “What is it, Justin? What’s wrong?”
Justin jumped at her voice, hand jerking his books closer with a thud. His terrified eyes latched onto hers, but for a long moment he said nothing. Then, in a soft, ragged voice, he said, “That man. He’s watching me again.”
“What man?” Cory said from behind them, body bristling with anger. “It isn’t Brent, is it? I told him to leave you alone.”
Justin shook his head. “Not Brent. Him.” He pointed, Kara and Cory glancing down the street, then toward each other, Cory frowning.
“I don’t see anyone, Justin,” Kara said.
Justin’s arm lowered. “He’s not there anymore.” His gaze darted back and forth across the street and he took a step toward Kara as if for protection. “He’s waiting for me. He’s been here every day for the past week.”
“Well, he’s gone now, right?”
Kara glared at Cory, who shrugged and mouthed the word,
What?
over Justin’s head. “Were you walking home by yourself today? I don’t see your mother.”
“She’s at the lord’s manse. Lady Carlsing wanted new curtains.” He edged closer still to Kara as he spoke.
Kara heard Cory sigh, but she ignored him. “We can walk with you, can’t we, Cory?”
He rolled his eyes, but said, “Of course.”
Cory started up a running conversation with her and Justin almost as soon as they left. Justin kept his eyes on the street, face twisted up into a tight frown of worry, but as Cory distracted him, drawing him out with stories from school and rude jokes, the tension that tightened his body relaxed. Kara watched the street as well, catching sight of a group of three Dogs headed toward Stone, another of five Temerite merchants talking rapidly in their own language, but nothing else out of the ordinary. Certainly no strange men watching them or following them. She wondered briefly if Justin had imagined him. He’d always been a little odd, quiet and prone to standing in the shadows of the courtyard while everyone else tussled in the grass off the main cobbles or watched the training in the practice yard. That was why he’d caught the attention of Brent and his group.
But when they reached the steps that led to Justin’s flat, and he darted up to the door and glanced hurriedly in both directions before ducking inside, a shudder of unease coursed down her back.
“What do you think that’s all about?” Cory asked. “Do you think he’s just being . . . well, Justin?”
“I don’t know. At school, he seemed terrified.”
“And it didn’t go away, no matter how awful my jokes were.”
She snorted, then glanced up and down the street one last time . . .
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