They''ll find her, eventually.


    I know they will.


    Don''t get involved. I told myself, even as plans formed in my mind, searching for the best way to help her escape.


    I''d left that world behind.


    I didn''t plan. I didn''t kill. I gardened and cleaned and cooked and lived.


    I didn''t spend my days wearing a mask, wondering what move to make, so I didn''t end up dead.


    But what were the chances she came to this city while I was here?


    What were the chances we met when I was leaving?


    The ship left tomorrow. Probably the last one for a while. They''d start drafts soon with how things were going.


    The country hadn''t recovered from the civil war, but something larger was brewing.


    Truthfully, we should have moved last year. I''d seen the signs, but I got ill and we found out I was pregnant with Sophie.


    It seemed fated, in a way.


    That I''d meet her today.


    I''d abandoned her—all those years ago, and me, now, softer as I was, didn''t have the heart to abandon her again, but I couldn''t save her.


    She''d been with him too long and didn''t know she needed saving anymore.


    Time and pain did that to women. They got used to the fists and the words, and their bodies forced their minds to call it love so they could survive.


    He''d make her suffer more when he found her.


    "Lillian." it wasn''t his face, but I knew what he looked like by heart. He looked older, and less angry, sun and laughter having worn lines into his face, and you could always feel happiness radiating off him.


    We''d lost the scent of blood.


    I looked at him, then at our daughter, who sat on his hip, bouncing and babbling about something she found interesting.


    I had a different life now—a softer one.


    I was Lillian. Cathrine was a distant memory.


    I glanced at her, walking on the beach, her hand linked with his as she laughed.


    She looked happy—never a good sign.


    He looked happy—even worse.


    The emperor and his queen, on a trip to the seaside, quaint.


    I had other identities that I could use in a pinch and then destroy. Even now we were traveling under different names, wearing unfamiliar faces. It was always good to have such things in uncertain times.


    I knew where to lead her.


    I was certain she''d have at least six months before he found her.


    "I''ll send her to Maggie."


    "She won''t be better for it. For her, healing will increase her suffering."


    Zagan never liked her. I''d asked why once, years later, when I''d learned that my secrets were safe with him, not that I shared everything—neither of us did. This was a secret he wasn''t willing to share. He''d said it was about his father, and a friend, but didn''t explain.


    I hadn''t pressed.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "In her next life, she''ll be better off." I wasn''t religious despite marrying a man who received dreams from a god, but I prayed for her—mostly to ease my guilt, but that had to count for something.


    Zagan glanced at her. "Everyone who tries to help her ends up worse for it." His voice was laced with pain, and I almost regretted bringing her up, but we''d grown past that too, holding our hurts inside.


    I grabbed his hand, squeezing it.


    "It''s fine," he said, the gloom passing. "You''ll have to do it tonight."


    "You''ll help?" I asked, knowing the answer. He''d mellowed over the years, but he never passed up the chance to make mischief.


    "Reach out to Maggie first, see if the cabin is available. My one condition is that she had to take the opportunity. We''ll clear the way, but if she doesn''t run, that''s it. We cut our losses and abandon the mission." His silver eyes were icy as he spoke.


    It brought back fond memories. "Deal."


    ***


    The wind carried the sound of crashing waves. The men shouted, moving boxes and goods into the house. Madam Belnavis bustled around with a list in hand, ordering what should go where.


    How I hated that woman.


    I wished the punishment for Jal''s escape would land on her head, but that was unlikely—despite her portly size, Madame Belnavis was very slick.


    "If you told me who I''d be impersonating, I wouldn''t have agreed to this." We stayed just beyond the reach of the touch light, watching. Waiting. "Lily, you''re one crazy bitch. I thought you''d stopped all that shit when you left, but this—this tops the list of all the dumb shit you''ve done."


    I remembered why I avoided working with Rose, too loud, too bold. She improvised too often, and half the time she ruined the plan.


    Thankfully, it didn''t matter tonight.


    If she went off schedule, it wouldn''t affect me.


    Jal stood near the water, her arms wrapped tight around herself. The maids weren''t close, standing a respectful distance away, but it didn''t matter. They didn''t have to be near to be effective. She knew why they were there—guards, jailers. It probably didn''t cross her mind to run. She didn''t have anywhere to go.


    I''d give her a chance, a choice.


    "Ready?" I slipped deeper into the shadows.


    "Ready," Rose said, already wearing Jal''s face. She held a cuff in her hand, ready to slide it onto her wrist when the time came.


    I moved with ease, having never allowed my skills to dull. I circled the nearest guard.


    There wouldn''t be any deaths tonight. That wasn''t part of the plan.


    We were going for a swap. Subtlety was best.


    A loose stone, well-aimed, sent the nearest maid stumbling into the woman beside her.


    A shift in the wind carried the sound of a whistle followed by the crow of a gall—that was my husband''s mimicry. That was the signal.


    And that was all it took.


    Rose pushed Jal into the shadows, and then took her place, slipping the mana-suppressing bracelet onto her wrist, as she turned to look at the maids. I imagined she asked what happened before leading them back to the house.


    I didn''t wait to see what she would do.


    Either she would run or she wouldn''t. I''d set the stage, and the rest was her choice.


    I huffed a laugh. Seeing her had me using her favorite metaphor. Jal always compared people to actors in a play.


    She wasn''t wrong.


    I heard it then, carried to me on the wind. The soft rustle of fabric. A sharp, shaky breath. Then—footsteps. Uncertain at first, then quicker, then—nothing.


    Good.


    We were going in opposite directions, but my heart was with her.


    The diversion wouldn''t last long. Rose would slip away and they realize their mistake.


    They''d chase her then, but she''d be long gone.


    Maggie''s path was protected, and only those she invited would find it. She''d follow the path left for her—because even if she didn''t know it, a path had been left. The footprints of the women who came before her. She''d add hers to the magic, and the old woman would be waiting for her with a story and a warm cup of tea.


    She''d think it was luck—a chance—a moment of mercy.


    Maggie would hide her for six months to a year. Then, she''d get the chance to run, but there was nowhere she could hide. The man she''d married was too powerful, too obsessed.


    That brought other memories of another girl equally obsessed.


    From the information I gathered, she''d consolidated her power in the capital, but that war was coming and foundations would shake.


    I wished her luck as well.


    A shadow merged with mine. He didn''t speak, but his presence was comforting.


    ***


    The dock smelled of salt and damp wood—the boards creaking beneath my boots. The wind carried the sea''s scent, mixing with the smell of saffi from my daughter''s hair.


    I adjusted her hood, pulling it snug.


    Zagan was ahead, speaking in low tones to the captain. Security was tight. We''d expected it after Jal''s escape, but it wouldn''t affect us.


    I glanced towards the sea, and my eyes drifted back to the town.


    We wouldn''t be back.


    It felt weird to leave Sargos. I''d prepared for this. It was more than a year in the making, but it hadn''t been real until now.


    My hopes and dreams were wrapped up in this country, buried in places I couldn''t see.


    That part of my life was over, but I''d always thought I''d visit. I''d go to the funny little river in the Duchy where I used to play with Tracey, or that bar I''d visit on my days off in the capital.


    No one would follow.


    No one would remember them.


    Because I was a ghost.


    And ghosts never left footprints.


    When we reached our destination, we''d have new names and a new future.


    I glanced down at the squirming bundle in my arms and reminded myself who this was for.


    She''d have everything I didn''t.