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Authors: Lauren Skidmore

BOOK: What is Hidden
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“The situation is thus: a criminal named the Chameleon
is on the loose,” she continued, despite the whispers that sprung up again. “He has many masks to his name and uses them to assume the identities of victims or simple fraudulent characters. I am sure you can imagine the dangers in that alone, but there is more. He is not a mask maker gone rogue—he burns the houses of his victims and steals the masks and anything else of value. His preference leans toward full masks of respected ranks and positions. He then uses the stolen mask long enough to escape and then destroys it or uses it to plan his next attack.

“And so it is our duty to warn you and to urge you to warn everyone you know. Do not trust the masks alone. If you have any information, please take it to the authorities at once. You will know it is him by the Mark on his face.” She nodded toward the obsidian-faced militia that accompanied her. One man hung a poster on a wall on the east side of the Square filled with other posters and announcements, presumably with a drawing of the Mark and other details for those who could read. The poster was so large that it covered three others. “That is all. Long live the Crown.”

With that, she turned to the prince, ready to leave. The prince looked out at the crowd, nodded in our direction, and then disappeared from my view.

“Wow,” I said, turning to Aiden. “I’m glad I listened to you for once. What do you make of all that?”

His shoulders were still remarkably tense as he stared after the retreating forms of the prince and his party. “I suppose I’ll have to keep you even closer,” he finally said, the tension between us vanishing as he grinned down at me. “Can’t have someone trying to imitate my lady here.”

=
TWO
+

T
he Caravan Market of Venesia
was a kaleidoscope of color. Bright banners, sails, and flags burst from the large ships in the usually scarcely populated harbor set aside for trade, each doing its best to draw attention to itself and pull in the wandering eyes and purses. Each boat became a store and each dock a storefront as the merchants and townspeople descended upon the fresh merchandise. To advertise its wares, each boat used a flag—emerald green for the commercial goods and artistry, crimson red for farmed food from other islands, and cerulean blue for anything out of the sea. Our small island was famous for this market.

Each individual boat was decorated from front to back and top to bottom with more specific signs of what the seller had to offer. As I navigated through the canals and walked along the piers with Hachi trotting at my heels, we passed ships dedicated to foreign books, pets, fruits, and other delicacies. Unlike the smaller boats farther in the city that only sold a particular item or two, such as food or the odd trinket, these ships were stocked close to bursting with everything imaginable.

“So,” Aiden asked, sounding more upbeat. He seemed to have shaken off whatever had put him in a sour mood when he saw the prince. “What’s on the list today?”

“You’re not going to talk about the announcement?” Gossip was already washing over the crowd around us like a tsunami. I could hear snippets of conversation as we walked, each more paranoid than the last.

“No. There’s nothing we can do, and I came here to enjoy myself today,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “What’s on the list?” he repeated.

“Mostly pieces for the balls next month. You know, the usual—peacock feathers, ribbons, maybe some swan feathers. Anything sparkly. That sort of thing.”

He nodded. “My sister is all about the swan feathers right now. Makes the mask appear lighter than it is and all of that.”

“And we both know how people will do anything to make the color lighter.” The lighter the color, the more expensive the dye and, consequently, the higher the wearer’s rank.

“Yeah, she’s funny like that.” I thought he was about to go into a bit of a rant about her, but he didn’t say anything more. He found a stick alongside the road to throw for Hachi. He had one younger sister, who was only a few years his junior, but I’d never met her. It was clear he cared a lot about her, though; I could hear it in his voice. She might annoy him to death, but he’d do anything for her.

If I thought about it, that could describe our relationship as well. Not that we had a
relationship
, per se.

“All right, let’s get to shopping, then.” I led the way into the cluster of green-flagged shops dedicated to the fineries
I was interested in seeing, to distract both myself and my eager companion.

Aiden hovered like he always did, watching me like a hawk as we entered the hull of a ship filled with spools upon spools of ribbon. Once the ships arrived in port, all the cargo was unloaded inside of the ship itself and displayed for customers there. The cargo hold was small and musky, but every inch was covered in fine ribbons from a city in the north famous for its fine weaving.

I took my time, picking out a lovely shimmering pale blue ribbon that was sure to be popular among the older girls looking to catch a suitor’s eye. Aiden laughed when I explained my purchase and promptly found a similarly eye-catching spool of emerald green.

I tried not to look too excited as I accepted it and wondered, not for the first time, why he was hanging around. He told me once that he was going to take over his father’s business, though he never really got into specifics of what that business was exactly. Most sons followed their father’s trade. Even I followed my father’s, though I wasn’t a son. I also didn’t know why Aiden wasn’t already in that business; he had to be roughly eighteen, the same age as me, if not a little older. While his mask was predominately the purple of the nobility, it had green trim, so I knew his trade had to be artistry of some sort, but he always claimed talking about it bored him and would quickly change the subject. I could tell he was keeping something from me, but I felt awkward pestering him about it, so I let him keep his secrets. He was nobility—he was born with secrets.

Regardless of who he was, I knew he enjoyed watching me barter for trinkets and materials and bemoaned the fact
that he wouldn’t have my “feminine wiles” to assist him when it was his turn to do the shopping.

“You’re ridiculous,” I told him as we left another boat shop with my purchases in my basket, which Aiden politely carried. His lips were pressed tightly together in a poor attempt not to laugh.

He surrendered and laughed loudly. “
I’m
ridiculous? You’re the one who’s all ‘Please, sir, I’d really appreciate it,’ and ‘You’d do that for
me
, sir?’ with your big green eyes, and being too pretty for your own good.”

“I’m going to use every tool I have if it means getting a good deal!” I defended myself, feeling my face redden in embarrassment. “If you’re just tailing me for a show, I’m not going to tell you when I’m going next time. You can go learn from someone else. Or not all, for all I care,” I threatened.

He laughed again. “Right. Like you could ever hide from me.”

I shoved his shoulder with mine and quickened my pace. That was another annoying thing about Aiden—he had this uncanny knack of being able to find anyone or anything. I once lost my favorite necklace—a small circular locket that I wore nearly every day—and searched for it for days before I enlisted his help. He turned up with it the very next day. A similar thing happened when the little boy down the street went missing; as soon as Aiden was alerted and joined in the search, the boy was found in a matter of hours.

“One of these days I’ll elude you,” I said. “And who’ll be laughing then?”

“You’d do that? Hide from me and then laugh at me?”
His dark eyes went into a full puppy-dog pout, and I shoved him away from me, giggling.

“I laugh at you every day. What makes you think I’d do anything else?” I grinned, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Fair enough,” he conceded and draped an arm over my shoulder to steer me toward the fishing docks. “Now let’s get some food. It’s time for me to toughen up and get all this shopping out of my system.”

“Yes, because nothing says ‘toughen up’ like shopping.”

“Hush up. For that,
you
can pay.
And
carry everything. This basket isn’t light, you know.”

I rolled my eyes and took the basket from him. “It isn’t that heavy—you’re just pampered.” He made a sound of protest and immediately snatched the basket back. I grinned. “Besides, didn’t you already have something to eat?”

He chose to ignore me and, grabbing me by the wrist, dragged me toward a stall selling spiced nuts. While he tried to charm the old woman running it, I wandered off to look at some lace offered in other stalls. I liked using lace in my own masks; it added softness to a look that was often too severe.

“Hey, Evie!” Aiden’s voice broke through my internal designing, and I turned to see him jogging down the boardwalk.

“Hey,” I reluctantly said as he stopped to catch his breath, panting slightly. “A little out of shape there,” I teased.

He scowled at me. His attempt to express displeasure with me was somewhat lessened in severity when he couldn’t stop panting. “You were supposed to wait for me,” he accused.

I rolled my eyes. I might have wandered farther than
I’d intended, but I was still perfectly safe. “I’m not going to be attacked in broad daylight, and Hachi will catch any cutpurses before they get too close.”

Aiden glared at the dog leaning against my skirts; Hachi simply wagged his brown and white brush of a tail and cocked his head. “Traitor,” Aiden muttered, ruffling the patch of hair between Hachi’s ears. Hachi closed his eyes and leaned against Aiden’s hand, his white face the picture of bliss, and I was struck by how envious I could be of the fur ball.

Not that I wanted Aiden ruffling my black curls. Granted, he was good looking—all tall, dark, and handsome, with dark curly hair and deep brown eyes peeking out from behind his lavender mask, and with no shortage of girls lusting after him—but I felt like I didn’t know him sometimes. He had a peculiar way of disappearing for days at a time. He was like a stray cat that way, appearing for only a hot meal or some company and then disappearing into the night. Who knew when he would simply disappear forever?

Yet somehow he knew me better than anyone else.

I cleared my throat. “I thought you were looking for me, not my dog,” I said, trying to shake my mind from that train of thought.

“I don’t know. You’re being mean to me today. Hachi here always loves me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Then I’ll just leave you two alone and get on with my day.”

He gave Hachi a final scratch before falling into step beside me. “Nope, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He crunched his way through a handful of spiced nuts and asked, “Any other errands to run today?”

“I need to go to the palace to visit Iniga,” I said, digging around in his hand for a chestnut that wasn’t half burnt.

“Is she going to attempt to teach you again?”

I laughed. “Not in the slightest. Her advice on that venture was to stick to my strengths with the ready-made materials and leave the glass-throwing and weaving to those more inclined to the trade.”

“Were you really that bad?”

“I burned myself at least twice. I still have a scar on my thumb. Look.” I held out my hand for him to inspect, turning it so he could see the pale sliver of a scar at the base of my thumb on my left hand.

“Poor thing,” he said. I could tell he was trying not to laugh at me, though, and I jerked my hand out of his.

“She said the maskers in the castle have been working with her on making something new for the harvest balls,” I said. “I wanted to see how that was going. I’ve been hearing rumors of masks made out of glass. Can you imagine?”

“I can imagine the scandal if that were true. No respectable nobleman is going to let his daughter out in a mask that doesn’t actually cover anything up!”

“Exactly . . . which is why I’m dying to know what she’s working on.”

=
THREE
+

D
espite Hachi’s whines at riding
the water taxi, Aiden paid for one to take us to the market place by the palace. Once we arrived, it didn’t take long to find our friend. Iniga had a nice stall by the entrance, a prized spot of land at the market where the nobles spent their time. The market by the pier might be more famous, and the small stall shops in the canals more accessible, but this was where the expensive luxuries were sold. It also smelled better. If I hadn’t known Iniga since before she was a prized glass artisan to the king, I would never have been able to afford anything sold here. Even now I didn’t like to take advantage of her generosity, and my purchases from her were few and far between.

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