I sneezed, the scent of old coffee and dusty parchment cloying in the tiny office. Papers, books, mugs, and antiques covered every inch of the space, from the desk to the windowsill of the small window.

  I fiddled with the small pebble I held, letting the warm power of the forest’s magic seep through my gloves and warm my fingers. I needed to figure out where to hide the listening stone where it wouldn’t be found or disturbed.

  I have about half an hour before Mr. Fenwick is supposed to return. Still, I should leave as soon as possible.

  “Let’s continue this discussion in my office,” a man’s muffled voice drifted through the closed door.

  My heart stilled as I froze, trapped.

  Where was I supposed to hide? There were no closets or cabinets or drapes to hide behind. If I was caught…

  I looked around the room wildly, my eyes catching on a settee covered entirely by several blankets. Was it raised enough for me to wiggle under?

  The doorknob rattled.

  I was out of time.

  I dove at the settee, scurrying under it as I cursed the long skirts I wore as my disguise.

  The door creaked open just as I tucked my feet out of sight.

  “Please, take a seat Lord Alwin,” the man —Mr. Fenwick— said, his shoes tapping on the tiled floors.

  I kept my breathing shallow, even as my heart pounded in my ears.

  This is bad. Really bad,

  The pebble I still gripped grew warmer, the heat seeping through my gloves.

  “The documents, if you please,” a man said in a crisp, harsh voice that could only belong to Lord Alwin “the rebellion slayer”.

  Shuffling noises filled the room. “Right, of course. The trade routes are essential to the war efforts, I can imagine.”

  I was going to be stuck for a while.

  Robin’s going to kill me. If I can make it out of this mess alive, that is.

  It was supposed to be a simple mission: get into the Merchant’s guild hall, plant a few listening stones, and get out. But the getting out part was growing more and more difficult.

  I might as well make the most of this while I’m stuck here.

  I shoved the pebble into the back of the settee leg closest to my head, using the bit of metal sewn into the wrist of my glove to push it into the wood. The few sounds I made were covered up by Mr. Fenwick’s incessant babbling about contracts and tariffs. Stuff Will would have to interpret later.

  “Are you not prepared for this meeting?” Lord Alwin asked, his scornful voice cutting through Mr. Fenwick’s nervous chatter. “Prince John is not a patient man.”

  “Of course, of course. Let me get you the contracts and let you be off. I am sure you are very busy, advising the king and helping Sir Gisbourne stamp out rebellion. Ah, here they are.”

  “Good day,” Lord Alwin said, enunciating every syllable.

  Heavy footsteps echoed off the tiled floors, then the door slammed shut.

  Footsteps approached the settee. I froze, holding my breath as Mr. Fenwick collapsed onto the settee with a world-weary sigh.

  I was still trapped. And there was no hope of escaping while Mr. Fenwick was at another meeting, as he had nothing more on his schedule.

  I need to leave soon. Time is running out.

  The small space under the settee was hot and stuffy now, making it hard to breathe. Sweat trickled down my back as I bit my lip, considering my options.

  I started to reach for the small vile I kept in my dress pocket. The vile, when uncorked, created a smokescreen that lasted several minutes. It would alert Mr. Fenwick to my presence, but would allow me to escape.

  I didn’t want to use it if I didn’t have to.

  Did I have anything else?

  My fingers brushed my second, and only other vile, wrapped in my handkerchief. An airborne sedative that was extremely potent.

  If I use this, I’ll have to be very careful to not inhale any.

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  Breathing even a little of the gas the vial contained would muddle my mind and potentially put me to sleep with Mr. Fenwick. That was unspeakably dangerous. Not to mention, Robin would kill me. Plus, I wouldn’t be able to move for several minutes, until the sedative took full effect. I couldn’t risk Mr. Fenwick later identifying me.

  I was running out of time. Soon the secretary I had checked in with would note I hadn’t returned my guest pass on time, and start a search. If that happened, there would be no escape.

  I need to do this now. Sorry Robin.

  I pulled the vile out of my pocket, unwrapping it and covering my mouth and nose with my handkerchief. Slowly, carefully, I uncorked the vile as I held my breath, poking the vile out from under the blankets.

  My lungs burned as I listened to Mr. Fenwick’s unintelligible mumblings, counting the seconds. One minute passed, and I took a shallow breath. The bitter taste of the sedative coated my tongue, making my eyes water.

  I corked the bottle, my movements clumsy as my head spun.

  I don’t have time for this.

  Soft snoring filled the air. This sedative usually took fifteen minutes to set in fully. But Mr. Fenwick had seemed fatigued, needing only a small push in the direction of sleep.

  I tucked the vile away in my pocket and wiggled out from under the settee. My body was stiff and my lungs screamed for air as the handkerchief I still pressed against my mouth and nose made it difficult to breath the few shallow breaths I allowed myself.

  I stood, my head spinning, and stepped to the door, opening it a crack. The hall was, thankfully, deserted.

  I slipped out of the tiny office, closing the door behind me and shoving my handkerchief into my dress pocket. I gasped for air as I stumbled forward, turning a corner as I struggled to remember the way back to the lobby.

  Thankfully the fresh air started to clear some of the fog that had settled in my mind.

  I still need to get out of here fast.

  I stepped into the visitor’s entrance lobby. It was nearly deserted as well, with most merchants busy in their offices or in meetings elsewhere. My shoes clicked on the elaborately tiled floors, the wood paneling and many paintings on the walls not dampening the noise in the massive room. The many seating areas, screened by large potted plants or tucked into nooks of the room, called to me. My eyes were heavy, my mind growing dull.

  No! I need to get out of here first.

  I shook my head, then pasted on a smile and approached the counter at the back of the room that housed several secretaries.

  “I have a pass to return,” I said, keeping my voice light and melodic.

  The secretary nodded to me.

  I unpinned the “pass”—a slip of paper with my name, purpose for visiting, and visiting times—from the front of my dress and handed the paper and safety pin to the secretary.

  “You’re cutting it close,” the woman, an older lady who had a no-nonsense air about her, remarked.

  I nodded. “It was a productive visit.”

  “You are free to go,” the secretary said.

  I turned and crossed the room. A guard opened one of the massive, elaborately carved double doors for me, and I slipped outside, making my way down the steps and into the market square beyond the Merchants’ guild hall.

  The square was crowded with people, stalls and carts crowding together in rows. Workers shouted at passers by, calling out prices and wares. People called to friends, the sounds of friendly conversation a buzzing sound filling my ears and making my head pound. The scent of spices and new leather clung to the air.

  No wonder the merchants all use a different entrance. This place is chaotic.

  I quickened my pace, my stomach churning as my headache intensified.

  I needed to get out of here quickly. It was a two mile walk back to the forest. Then I could use a fairy circle to get back home.

  A man bumped into me, nearly knocking me over.

  “Sorry miss,” he called as he hurried off.

  I kept pushing forward, breaking out of the market and into the streets of Nottingham.

  I wasn’t going to make it. And with my clothes, I couldn’t find a place to sleep off the sedative within the city. My navy blue dress, matching cloak, leather ankle boots, and white kid gloves were all relatively new, and of a simple but modern design. Perfect for a young lady visiting her well-off-but-not-noble merchant father. Not so perfect for walking around unaccompanied in the city, drugged by my own sedative.

  A tram’s cheerful bell chimed.

  I looked up, realizing I had paused in front of a tram stop. The map, displayed on a sign by the road, showed that the tram would stop near Sherwood forest.

  Perfect.

  I got out my coin purse and approached the tram, handing the fare to the driver and stepping inside. I took a seat near the front, pinching my arm to stay awake.

  The tram was nearly empty, and picked up only a few passengers on the following stops. Most were coming into the inner city, rather than leaving it.

  Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, sleep calling to me like a fey calling its prey into the fairy realm.

  Just a little longer.

  The tram driver called out my stop. I stood, swaying slightly as I stumbled off the bus. Sherwood forest towered over me, the road delving into it like a winding snake, the branches curving overhead, blocking out the sun.

  I picked up my pace, the forest a bright green haven in my mind.

  Just a little longer.

  I stepped into the forest, off the road, into its depths.

  There.

  A small fairy circle, ringed with moss-covered stones, was nestled several feet in front of me.

  It was risky, going into a fairy circle so out of it. But I was seconds from blacking out. Better in a random part of the forest than beside the road, easily found by foresters.

  Please take me somewhere safe.

  I stumbled forward, my vision growing dark as I stepped inside the circle.

  Darkness swallowed me, and I was falling endlessly in a dark pit. I could feel my consciousness fading, darkened by the sedative.

  No!

  I hit the ground with a thud, tipping forward. My vision blurred and darkened as I fell to the hard forest floor in a heap, the damp earth seeping through my dress.

  Where am I? I need to get someplace safe.

  My thoughts raced together, muddled and frenzied as my eyes closed on their own accord.

  Slowly, everything faded away. The sounds and smells of the forest. My thoughts. The pain of my pounding headache. Everything was dark. I was under the sedative’s spell at last.