The merchant, an older man with a black-and-white speckled beard, nodded at Vicer, then turned as a girl who was likely no more than sixteen winters approached.
I’d expected Vicer to continue walking down the aisle between the stalls, but instead, he jerked his head, leading me to one of the nooks hidden by a dull gray sheet.
“Charms are better for small changes, like your eyes. I’ll show you where to find the necklace you need after this. But your hair can easily be dyed.”
A woman poked her head out of the smaller cave, grinning up at Vicer.
Her skin was a creamy white, so light I imagined she must constantly have to hide from the sun, yet there wasn’t a single freckle to be seen. She looked my age, but there was something about her eyes that told me she was much older.
“This is Chava,” Vicer said.
“I’m Setella,” I introduced myself with my new name.
Vicer nodded approvingly at me. “We’ll come back for you.”
He disappeared, leaving me with Chava, who waved at me to take a seat on one of the overturned crates in her tiny space. I wasn’t surprised to see several huge bowls of water—one of them clearly recently used. But Chava waved her hand over it, and the water cleared, clean once more.
“That’s a helpful power.”
“Indeed.”
I sat in front of the mirror, and Chava got started on my hair. When I attempted conversation, she replied with one-word answers until I gave up and got lost in my own thoughts.
Eventually, she instructed me to wash my hair, and when the water ran clear, my hair was a dark brown. I stared. It was as if I was looking at a stranger.
“You suit both,” she said with a satisfied hum. “Most women don’t.”
“Thank you.”
A hand shifted the curtain, and Tibris met my eyes. “Wow. It’ll take some getting used to.”
Vicer looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Good. Let’s get your eyes altered.” He held out his hand, dumping several coins into Chava’s palm, and I got to my feet. She nodded at me.
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
Vicer led us to another table—this one closer to the back of the large space. My skin was prickling with the knowledge of just how deep we were—and how little it would take for the cave to collapse around us.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
Tibris gave me a look that told me he didn’t believe me, but he stayed silent while Vicer murmured to another merchant, this one a beautiful woman with dark skin and eyes.
Those eyes met mine, crinkling around the corners.
“I can see why you need some help with those. They’re pretty, but they’re an unusual color that makes people look twice. I have a charm that will work, but you’ll need to have it replenished. I’ll talk to Vicer about getting you a new one every few days.”
The thought of relying on someone else to help with my disguise made me nervous. But with no other choice, I took the necklace she handed me.
“Try it on,” she instructed.
I pulled it over my head, and she held up a mirror. With my dark hair and brown eyes, I looked nothing like my description on the parchment, and my stomach settled as I examined my reflection.
“This is perfect. Thank you.”
“Good luck to you,” she said.
I nodded. She didn’t know who I was, but clearly the fact that I’d arrived with Vicer gave her some idea of what I was up to. He led us toward the tunnel we’d crawled through, but the cloth to my left parted, just enough for me to see what was happening beyond.
As I watched, a man held his hand to a woman’s temple. A moment later, she stood, wearing the blue mark that marked her as twenty-five winters.
I let out a strangled sound, and the man’s eyes met mine. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes a cool gray as he watched me. Tibris grabbed my arm, pulling me away.
“There are people who can do that?” I hissed.
Vicer gave us a warning look over his shoulder, continuing toward the tunnel. Tibris continued pulling until I fell into step with him.
I glanced over my shoulder at the line that was forming outside the gray-eyed man’s cave. If hybrids were lucky enough to be born in the city, they at least had a scrap of hope.
“Vicer’s people smuggle as many hybrids as they can—usually down to Gromalia. Areas still exist there where hybrids can live quiet lives. But that mark…for those who can afford it, it is freedom.”
“For those who can afford it,” I said. “The king’s guards keep records. What happens when the hybrids don’t appear on the day of their Gifting ceremony?”