Chasers of the Wind

16

She smelled faintly of jasmine. I reached out for her and wrapped my arms around her. Humming softly, she bit my earlobe. A cat. A warm cat. And predatory. From time to time even too predatory. The scratches she left on my back always ached sweetly though.

“I can’t get used to you.”

“Really?” Sharp little teeth sank into the side of my neck. She growled. “Then I guess I’ll just have to do something to get you used to me again.”

Much later, when we were lying in the bed after this most recent onslaught of passion, I still found it necessary to explain, “Your hair is much shorter. I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“You don’t like it?” My sun smiled.

“How could I not? I’ve just never seen it like this.”

“I had to sacrifice it. We’re being looked for, and any sign might give us away. I was afraid they’d recognize me at the gates.”

For some time we lay there in silence, thinking our own thoughts.

“I kept thinking that I’d never see you again,” Layen said suddenly. “You delayed too long.”

“I’m sorry.” What else could I say to her?

“It’s a miracle we got out.”

“I know. I saw. You were ahead of us by a few seconds and were able to escape. We had to find a different route and sneak through the fields. Did the rest of your journey pass without incident?”

“Yes. I said good-bye to Ga-Nor and Luk at the gates and came here. You can’t imagine it, being locked inside four walls, every second wondering whether you survived or not.”

“I can imagine it, my sun. I can imagine it all too well. I wondered the same about you. It’s a good thing the redhead crossed our path. He was able to bring you out of that mess. Did our friends object to you leaving them?”

“The tracker, no. He understood that I wouldn’t give in to entreaties and immediately let me go where I wished. But Luk was truly upset, and kept urging me to stay. But I washed my hands of them. We have our business here, and they have theirs. We shouldn’t get them involved. Plus, our soldiers were going to meet the Walkers.”

“Why?” I was on my guard.

“From what I gathered, Luk was the only one to survive the storming of the Gates of Six Towers. And he saw Rubeola. That might interest the Walkers.”

“He also saw Typhoid.”

“She’s dead.”

“I’m not so sure. It seems she’s a tenacious creature and managed to return from the Abyss.”

I told her about running into the lad who used to be Pork. With each passing second her face became grimmer. When I was done a tense silence hung between us. Layen was lying motionless with her eyes closed.

“Is such a thing possible?” I asked finally, unable to contain myself.

“You want to hear the truth? I have no idea. Anything’s possible with the Damned. They are stronger than anyone else in our world. Their bodies are very difficult to destroy, and that’s to say nothing of their spirits. It’s entirely possible that destroying the latter requires more than ordinary steel. You need to disrupt the essence, the foundation, to burn out the spark. Do you remember that arrow?”

I nodded tiredly, realizing what she was talking about. I remembered it well—the strange bone arrowhead, the green shaft, and the lilac radiance before it hit the Walker.

“If Typhoid is alive, we’re in for trouble.”

“Cunningly observed,” she said, laughing, and began to get dressed. “I would say that we’re in for a great deal of trouble. She may just want to break your neck, but I’m sure she has much more to talk about with me and the Healer. It’s possible she just has a desire for revenge. It’s possible. But I wouldn’t rule out the idea that she wants us for something else.”

“Like what?”

“Perhaps to find a more fitting body than the one she has now. Or to get back her Gift. Did Gis actually say that she was very weak?”

“He did. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to him. Who knows what’s in the mind of a wizard?”

“So our mutual friend, the courier, is a Scarlet? Hmmm…” She lifted the hem of her colorful, recently purchased skirt and fastened a knife in a long, narrow sheath to her right shin. “You’re lucky he was there.”

“And he’s lucky I was there.”

She suddenly broke into laughter. “I’d give much to see the look on the Damned’s face when she realized who she was dealing with! It’s unlikely Typhoid ever thought she’d come across a demon charmer! She’d be particularly defenseless. Just imagine; I’m starting to regret that Gis isn’t with you. Where did you leave him?”

“At a wayside tavern. About two days’ travel from Al’sgara. I crept away in the middle of the night, while he was sleeping. I have no liking for such companions. With all due respect toward demonologists, I like to stay as far away from them as possible. It makes my soul rest easier.”

“Did the boy stay with him?” She hid another dagger in her left sleeve.

“The lad disappeared in Bald Hollow. We left without him. Whether he survived or not, I don’t know.”

This news upset her. “I’d be sorry if the Healer died. He had some good qualities.”

“Sure, like arrogance and stubbornness.”

“Other than those,” said my sun. She was already fully dressed. “But it’s possible the world lost the next Sculptor.”

“Why are you getting ready? Shouldn’t we wait ’til dark? I already had to quiet one bounty hunter this morning.”

I told her about what happened in Dovetown.

“So soon?” She was surprised. “At times I marvel at your ability to get into trouble. Not a day passed, and you were already recognized. Who was he working for?”

“For himself. He was fed by Mols on a case-by-case basis. So, where are you going and wouldn’t it be better for us to wait ’til it’s dark?” I asked again.

“Don’t you know that a curfew has been declared in Al’sgara after nightfall? It’s not a good idea to go out onto the streets. Military patrols, the watch, and the Viceroy’s Guards together with Walkers and Embers. I really don’t want to get caught by the last two, so I’d prefer to risk it during the day, and sit inside at night. We need to see Mols. Don’t you think it’s time to visit our old friend? After all, he was kind enough to send Whip and his team to warn us about Joch’s bad behavior.”

I smirked. “Perhaps you’re right. They’ll be glad to see us.”

We both laughed and I began to get dressed.

“Did you find out anything about Joch?” I asked in passing.

“I couldn’t stick my nose outside, so Ktatak and Jola were my eyes and ears. From what I could find out—the task will be hard. Joch is well guarded.”

I shrugged. “Sooner or later we’re all sent to the Abyss. Unfortunately, we don’t have a lot of time. We need to be on a ship by the end of the week. Perhaps sooner.”

“I know. I heard that the Isthmuses of Lina have been taken. We’ll smell smoke soon enough.”

I nodded and took my axe from the chair. “What about your Gift?”

Layen’s face instantly darkened. “It’s not going as well as I’d hoped.”

“But still?” I insisted. “Can I count on your help?”

“In that sense, no. Not right now, anyways. My spark is flaring up, but very slowly. For right now there’s little I can do. Let’s wait a few days, okay?”

I nodded, trying not to show my disappointment. The Damned! It was all her fault! If we’d never crossed paths with her, the hunt for Joch would have been much easier.

“Okay, don’t worry about it, my sun. We’ll manage on our own. It’s not the first time, right?”

She smiled gratefully. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you about our target on the way.”

“Wait a moment. What about the money?” I didn’t see her pack.

“I left it with Jola.”

“Now I’m really starting to worry,” I joked sourly. “What if the old woman flies away with our sorens?”

“She knows where her interests lie, of course, but in this I trust her.”

“Just like in fortune telling,” I said even more bitterly.

“Just like in fortune telling,” Layen concurred. “By the way, what did your cards say?”

“Nothing. Our prophetess was at a loss. She said she made a mistake. The spread was incorrect.”

“She made a mistake? An incorrect spread?” my sun echoed. “Are we talking about the same Jola?”

“And now just imagine how surprised Ktatak was. I thought he’d croak from happiness.”

She laughed loudly. “That would have been wonderful to see.”

“I wouldn’t want to miss the chance to see it a second time. The winged one almost plucked all her feathers out from vexation. Come on. We need to say good-bye to them. I hope walking around with weapons hasn’t been prohibited in the city?”

“No. With that, praise Melot, everything is as it should be.”

We went downstairs. There were still only two torches burning in the shop. Jola was ignoring us and muttering curses under her breath, laying out her fortune-telling cards on the table for the hundredth time that day. And the Blazog was attending his own business, too—he was pulling a hefty sword from the back of a dead man. Another corpse was lying under the Je’arre’s table. As far as I could tell in the gloom, he had been split by a single powerful blow from his collarbone to the middle of his chest. A whole lake of blood was flowing out of him.

“Guests?” I inquired politely.

Jola launched into a series of shrill imprecations, which placed primary emphasis on the mothers who gave birth to the bastards that dared attack her shop.

“Are these on your souls or on ours?” Layen was watching as the Blazog wiped his sword on the clothes of the dead man lying by the door.

“Don’t worry, Layen. There’s absolutely no kvonnection to you.” Ktatak laughed. “This kvouple of children of fish decided to tickvale my partner’s feathers. And at the same time as their little prankva, they were kvoinkva to make a profit.”

“The damned bastards!” confirmed the Je’arre without looking up from her cards. “May the skies fall upon their rotten families. May their children’s eyes dry up. May maggots devour their despicable guts alive!”

“That’s the right approach,” agreed the swamp dweller, not hiding his sarcasm. “Why didn’t you tell them that to their faces when they were still alive?”

“You stole my chance, you leech!” Jola snorted irritably and finally put her cards aside. “I didn’t have time to open my mouth before you swatted them like mosquitoes from your swamp!”

Ktatak laughed deep in his chest.

“You did your work quietly,” I said in a low voice. “I see your grip is as strong and quick as ever, you old trunk.”

“I take pride in the praise of a master.” He stretched his lips into a smile.

It wasn’t all that difficult to imagine what went on here. The two men obviously weren’t from the neighborhood, nor did they make their living as professional evaders of the law, otherwise they would have found themselves some friendlier victims. The lads were just eager to get their hands on a Je’arre. If they weren’t blinded by the torch hanging by the stairs and saw the winged woman, then it’s unlikely they had time to take note of Ktatak hiding in the gloom. So they’d stumbled right by him. I wondered if they had any idea who it was that jumped out at them?

Trying not to step in the blood that was seeping along the floor, Layen walked over to the door and lowered the latch.

“That’s right, girl,” said Jola approvingly. “If another dozen stop by, I’ll be cleaning the floor for the rest of my life.”

“Since when do you mop the floors, chickvadee? I’m always the one doinkva it,” said Ktatak indignantly.

“Stuff it, you leech.”

“What are you going to do with the bodies?” asked Layen.

“That’s our business. Don’t worry your pretty little head. Are you leaving?”

“We’d like to.”

“Go out through the back door.” The flyer had buried her nose in the cards once more. “Ktatak, show them the way. Then you can take care of these bodies. They’re not going anywhere.”

Layen kissed the Je’arre on the cheek. “Thank you for everything.”

“Not at all, Weasel. Not at all. I was happy to help.” For the first time since their conversation began, Jola smiled. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The Blazog brought a quiver full of arrows and a bow out of the darkness—it was an exact copy of the one I’d had before. Four curves, composite, black. A good weapon.

“Nicely done. Just what I needed.” I endorsed his choice, carefully examining the merchandise.

Ktatak grunted in embarrassment and quickly said, “I’m just sorry for the arrows. I don’t know how to choose the right ones.”

“It’s okay,” I comforted him. “I’ll manage.”

“Takva your sorens.” He handed Layen her pack. “We kvan’t answer for their safety. We’ll be out of here any minute now.”

“Farewell, Jola.”

“Until we meet again, Gray. Until then.” She didn’t even raise her head from the cards.

We walked behind the Blazog, passing through a succession of half-lit rooms, brimming with bales and boxes. It’s hard to believe they’d sent off all their goods. To me it looked like there was still something here that could turn a profit. Disorder prevailed all around, and no one was planning to contend with it. In one place the floor was strewn with reels of expensive multicolored Sdisian thread. The dust in the room shone in the rays of the evening sun, which was peeking through one of the windows.

Finally, Ktatak stopped at a door, removed the dead bolt, inserted a beautiful key into the keyhole, unlocked it, and looked out.

“All kvalear. Kvo through the backvayard, to the right of the pikvasty. There’s a kvate there. There’s a kvey under the tile with a frokva painted on it. Don’t forkvet to put it backva. Then kvo alonkva the alleyway, it’ll lead you right to the harbor. I hope fate will brinkva us backva tokvether again. May Kvagun help you.”

“The god of the Blazogs is unlikely to pay attention to humans.”

The swamp dweller smiled. “If the kvod of the Je’arre kvan kvome to you in the fortune-telling kvards, why kvan’t my kvod look after my friends?”

“That reminds me! Do me a favor?”

I told him about Stallion. I had no need of the horse now, but I didn’t want to leave him to the innkeeper.

“Okvay. I’ll put your horse in kvood hands. Farewell.”

We walked outside and the door slammed behind us.

“You got the Thief?” inquired Layen curiously.

“Yes,” I replied, studying the backyard. “Is it important?”

“No. I’m just curious. As far as I recall Jola’s tales, that card is very rare, and even if you come across it, it doesn’t affect the spread.”

“It affected the Je’arre’s spread today.”

“That’s why I’m curious. It’s too bad I didn’t get a chance to talk to her about it.”

“What for?” I shrugged. “The flyer said that the spread was incorrect. You know that. She made a mistake.”

In truth, I didn’t really think that. I was very disturbed by the Fool and the five Deaths that formed a circle. You didn’t have to be all that clever a man to look at that and see the six Damned, one of whom, by some miracle, had survived and seized the body of a village idiot.

The western region of the city, which was laid out just beyond the community of the Je’arre, adjacent to the sea, was called Haven, or simply the harbor. It stretched along the shore of the huge bay, gradually growing wider and subsuming into itself the smaller neighborhoods of Whitehand and Eunuchtown. Now Haven rivaled the city’s largest district, Midtown, in terms of size. Right now we were north of the port, in a neighborhood of wealthy artisans. The streets here were quite wide and clean, so you didn’t have to flinch away from trash on the street or dread being doused with slops from above. But the tidy, low houses with white walls were depressing. They were so repetitious and identical that it made you want to hang yourself. There is no way I’d want to live in a place like this. I’d much prefer the riotous streets of Eunuchtown, the cheerful bedlam of the docks, or the quiet calm of the Gardens.

Unlike Birdtown, Haven was bustling with life. The servants of the law all ignored my bow. In liberal Al’sgara, as opposed to the capital of the Empire, Corunna, there was no ban on weapons. Not in Haven, at any rate. Many men wore daggers on their belts.

“We ought to take a look at the port,” I said, casting a glance at the street leading to the docks.

“We don’t have time.” Layen shook her head. “It’ll get dark soon.”

“You’re right. So today we have Mols. We can deal with the rest tomorrow.”

My sun smiled and took my hand. “How about some pastries?”

I smiled back at her. “I wouldn’t refuse.”

We smelled the scent of bread long before we saw the baker’s shop. The magnificent aroma of fresh baked goods wafted along the entirety of Old Coin Alley. I thought the sign, which was shaped like a pretzel, was completely unnecessary. A blind man could find where bread was being sold. The trays were stuffed with goods, but there were few customers—it was late, and everyone who wanted to had already made their purchases. The fools. In their place, I would have been squirreling away breadcrumbs. When the siege began, prices would soar sky-high, and goods would disappear within a few days. Then they’d be sorry they didn’t increase their food reserves whenever possible.

There were two people behind the counter. They looked dashing, like they should have been aboard a pirate ship, not behind a counter. I didn’t know them.

“What would you like?”

“A doughnut and a crescent roll with cinnamon.”

I laid out small change and handed the doughnut to Layen, who immediately sank her teeth into it.

“Anything else?”

“Call Mols.”

They immediately tensed.

“We don’t know anyone of that name.”

“Search your memory.” My rude words did not correspond to my polite smile.

Layen was busy with her doughnut, pretending not to follow the conversation.

“You’re mistaken,” said one of the bakers dully. “There’s no Mols here.”

“Of course.” I was not about to argue. “His real name is quite different.”

“It’d be best if you left.” Now the face of the thug nearest to us was radiating “goodwill.”

His companion drew a knife out from behind the counter. “Be off with you. We’re up to our necks in work.”

I sighed in disappointment, took out my utak, saw that these fools were ready to fling themselves at us, and with a disarming smile tossed the axe onto the counter.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” The one with the knife frowned. “Have you decided to give up?”

“No, he just doesn’t want to crack your empty skulls,” Layen answered for me, having finally finished her doughnut. Without asking, she took a crescent roll from the nearest tray. “Which of you is smartest? Take what you’ve been given and go look for Mols. When you find him, show him the weapon. We’ll wait.”

“There is no Mols here! Get out of here or we’ll call the watch!” The baker with the blade was standing his ground.

“What’s your name?” I asked softly, in no hurry to leave.

“What’s it to you?” he snapped.

“Well, if Mols should ask me why I didn’t come to the meeting, I need to tell him something.”

That made them stop and think. If I was speaking the truth, they wouldn’t get a pat on the back for not letting us in.

“Fine.” The husky one finally made up his mind and took the utak. “Wait here. If you’re lying, I’ll rip you a new one.”

“Don’t get bent out of shape too soon, little boy.” Layen smiled. “Just do what you were put here for.”

He cast her a spiteful glance full of promises, muttered to his comrade not to take his eyes off us, and disappeared into the depths of the shop. I had a free minute so I took a bite from the pastry I’d bought. Layen had finished before me and grabbed another bun from the tray. As I understood it, just to annoy the man.

“Are you going to pay for that?” he spat.

“I doubt old Mols will begrudge us some crumbs. His good friends shouldn’t die of hunger.” She grinned.

“Good friends, huh?” muttered the thug, but he didn’t utter another word about payment, wisely deciding that he should wait for his comrade to come back and clarify the situation.

A customer entered, and the lad quickly hid his weapon under the counter. He was clearly nervous while he served the client, even though we were behaving ourselves. At that moment the second baker came back—without the utak, but with a sour face. He caught the inquisitive glance of his coworker and shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“Come with me. They’re waiting for you,” he told us reluctantly.

We followed him and found ourselves in a long corridor.

“You see, kid, everything worked out just fine,” Layen teased him.

He flinched and hissed, “I don’t know who you are, but you shouldn’t annoy me.”

“I’ll bear that in mind, kid, oh yes I will.” Layen turned to me and winked cheerfully. I made an upset face so that she’d stop taunting the fool. Why the stupid game? She stuck out her tongue at me in reply.

We walked into an interior yard, which had not changed at all over the years. Except that the trees were much taller than they had been before. The bakery was to our left, and we tramped along a neatly swept path through a small orchard to a nice three-story house. It wasn’t visible from the street, and many of the inhabitants of this part of Al’sgara would have been quite surprised to find out how their bakers lived.

Four men were standing by the entrance, near which torches were lit. This was the first time I had seen something like this here as well. It seems there had been quite a few changes over the past seven years. New people all over the place. One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, got up from the grass and walked over to us.

“Now then.” The broad-shouldered man smiled. “Gimme your bow. Me and my friends gotta search you. Just so we have an understanding. Don’t want no disagreements.”

The threesome remaining on the grass got to their feet as if on command.

“I’ll check the wench,” quickly offered the kid who’d led us.

“She’ll tear off your arms, Luga,” said a mocking voice.

A red-faced, heavyset man stood by the door. He had immense, shaggy sideburns that melded into an untidy salt-and-pepper beard. A leather vest was thrown over his bare and, despite his advanced age, muscular torso. He wore short pants that stopped at the knee, a wide belt with a silver belt buckle in the shape of a snarling wolf’s muzzle, and a curved Sdisian dagger in an expensive sheath. In his left hand he was casually holding my axe. His thick lips were smiling, but his brown eyes were watchful. He anticipated a trick from us at any moment. He was paying special attention to Layen.

“Hi, Stump.” My sunshine greeted him first.

“Hello, hello. How was your trip?”

“Successful.”

“I don’t see your escort. Where did you lose them?”

“They had a bit of bad luck,” I replied.

Our questioner was no longer smiling.

“Stump.” The broad-shouldered man jumped into the conversation. “Should we look for them?”

“Shut up,” snapped Stump, and that order worked on Mols’s people like the crack of a whip. “Bad luck,” he said, as if savoring the words. “All of them?”

“Yes.”

“Did Whip bite off more than he could chew?” Nasty undertones had slipped into his voice. Stump was friends with my old acquaintance. Simply put, they were like brothers.

“No. He really was unlucky. He ran into a clever Nabatorian.”

“A pity.” It was unclear whether he believed me or not. “Midge and Bamut as well?”

“Not quite.” Layen looked him in the eye. “They did bite off more than they could chew.”

“Oh,” he said slowly. “That’s a shame. They were good people.”

“Beyond a shadow of a doubt.” I was uncommonly serious.

“The Abyss take me!” suddenly cried out the one who was called Luga. “Gray!”

This announcement made quite the impression on the thugs surrounding us. They all finally made the connection between the mysterious absence of Whip, Midge, and Bamut, the utak in Stump’s hands, and the arrival of a man and a woman.

Now they were looking at us with wide eyes, and Luga stepped as far away as possible from Layen. It was obvious that he now took Stump’s words about having his limbs torn off in a literal sense. When she’d been working, Weasel didn’t have a reputation for being the calmest person in Al’sgara.

“You’re too quick on the uptake,” said Stump in a deceptively quiet voice. “It bodes you no good, you get me?”

The kid went paler than before. “Yes.”

“I know that the temptation to gossip about this on every street corner is very great, just as is the desire to earn a few sorens, but before you open your mouth, think about this. You still need to get the money; Joch is far away, but I’m close. And your family, too. You’re a smart lad, aren’t you?” asked the red-faced Giiyan insinuatingly.

“I’m not going to talk.”

“That’s nice. Go away. Be about your business. My warning goes for all of you. I hope no one here thinks that ten thousand sorens is better than my displeasure and family troubles? That’s wonderful. Gell, you’re responsible for your lads’ heads.”

“We won’t talk idly. You know that,” said the broad-shouldered one resentfully.

“I know. Gray, Weasel, come into the house.”

“You’re harsh with them,” I said once we were inside.

“There’s no other way.”

“You don’t think that such treatment might do harm?”

“Nonsense!” spat Stump. “They know that I bark often, but I bite only when I have to.”

“You don’t bite. You rend.”

He chuckled softly and returned my utak, warning me just in case, “Be good.”

It was already rather dark outside, and candles were lit inside the house. The expensive burgundy rug lying on the floor muffled our footsteps. Stump stopped by a set of double doors and shoved them open.

“In you go.”

The room was large and brightly lit by candles, which were standing on a large table covered by a white tablecloth.

We heard three soft handclaps. A tall middle-aged woman was applauding us. She had a pleasant face, a large mouth, and a strong jaw. Her graying hair was hidden under a white starched cap. Her clothing was simple, one could even say modest. Looking at her, the sweet and kind mistress of a bakery, you would never think you were seeing the head of the southern guild of Giiyans and one of the most influential people in the criminal world of Al’sgara. She who took the name of Mols. Only a select few, who could be counted on the fingers of both hands, had ever seen her. She always preferred to stay in the shadows, communicating with all those who worked for her through Stump. And he tried his best to make sure that everyone believed Mols was a man. Even people in the know, while talking with one another, preferred to speak of Mols as a he. It was more familiar, and much less dangerous.

“Bravo, my dears. Bravo.” She stood up from the table. “You almost managed to dupe them all.”

“Almost doesn’t count, Mols,” I said.

She was calm, smiling, and everything about her indicated that she was happy to see us. A kind aunt, meeting with her niece and nephew after a long separation.

“So you say. But you managed to fool even me with that fire, for a time.”

“But not the Walkers.”

“Oh, yes. They were born suspicious, but after a year or two they calmed down. In any case, so it seemed to me. Sit down, don’t stand around like strangers. We’ll have supper now. Stump, see to it. I’m glad we’re all back together again. I always said that Gray and Weasel were a lovely couple. And the work you did—a thing of beauty! Do you remember those times? Not the times, but the gold!”

We caught her meaning well enough. Layen took a prepared purse from her pack and put it on the table—fifteen coins worth one hundred sorens apiece. It was Mols’s share from our last job. We could have dispensed with the guild and refused to pay them a tenth of our fee, but there was no sense in being greedy. It was simpler to pay out what was due and maintain good relations. One and a half thousand sorens—some people couldn’t even earn such a sum in five lifetimes. And what’s funniest of all, I didn’t begrudge them at all.

Mols took the purse, loosened the strings, and looked inside.

“So that’s how much the life of a Walker is worth. When I heard about what happened I thought you stupid. But, as I see, it was worth it. By the way, you did good work. And it was pulled off beautifully. The Embers smashed the neighboring houses, but after four days they found the bow and it turned out that you shot from quite the awkward position. Someone tried to repeat your trick for fun, but it didn’t work.”

She put the money on the edge of the table and, it seemed, forgot about it, absorbed in the conversation. While the table was being set and supper served, Mols chatted incessantly on various topics, starting with the weather and ending with the price of flour. Occasionally we were able to put in a remark. Stump frowned often and drank more than he ate. Only after the dirty dishes were taken from the table did we get down to business.

“Are you in the city long?” asked Mols.

“That depends,” I replied evasively. “Aren’t you planning to leave?”

“Where would I go? I’ve spent my whole life in Al’sgara; now it’s too late to leave my home. I’m too old.”

“A siege doesn’t worry you?”

“Are you talking about hunger? I have enough supplies to feed both myself and my boys. Anyway, a siege is long off. The Nabatorians have to get through our army.”

“For some reason, I have no doubt that they will get through. And if there’s famine, they loot a bakery first thing.”

“Just let them try,” growled Stump, pouring another glass of wine down his throat. As always, he wasn’t getting drunk.

“I’m sure you’ll strangle all the looters,” crooned Layen. “But what if the soldiers come? Or the Viceroy’s Guards? Against them, and I say this with all due respect to your lads, you won’t hold out for long.”

“If they come on the orders of the Viceroy and the City Council, I’ll open my cellar,” declared Mols calmly. “I wouldn’t begrudge it for my hometown.”

“Especially when there is a secret cache twice the size of the one everyone knows about,” Stump said, chuckling. “I’m at ease about my stomach.”

The head of the guild cast her assistant a disgruntled look. I recognized her usual initiative. As his detractors, now dead, said, if normal people have one secret passage in their homes, damned Mols has more than ten.

“I didn’t expect you to return.”

“You sent for us yourself.”

“And all the same, given the circumstances, I wasn’t expecting it. I’m glad that my warning reached you. I was truly worried.”

I made a wry face, showing how I felt about her words.

“Let’s be honest with each other. You didn’t start all of this to help us. You’re just tired of Joch and we are among the few who would undertake such a task. We simply have no other choice.”

“You’ve turned into a terrible cynic these past few years, my boy.” She was not at all put off by my words. “Do you really mean to tell me that you aren’t grateful for the timely news?”

“I’m grateful.”

“Then I don’t see any reason for your dissatisfaction.”

“How did you find out that we were alive, and how did you find us?” asked Layen.

“Well, I guessed that you were alive. You’re not such fools as to do in a Walker without preparing a means of retreat. Take a pastry, treat yourselves.”

“Thank you, but I’ve eaten enough of them today. I’ll get even fatter.”

“Nonsense. You’ve got a great figure. So”—she returned to the topic at hand—“I suspected it, but searching for you like the Walkers was too long and difficult. If they couldn’t do it, what could a simple bakery owner do? The Empire is vast, and you had clearly hid yourselves so well the light of day couldn’t find you. You could have been lying low in the Golden Mark, Urs, Grogan, Sino, or anywhere else. The world of Hara is large. You owed me money for your last job of course, but I preferred to wait. Gray has always been honest in such matters. As you see, the waiting, though it was long, justified itself.” She glanced at the purse lying on the table. “And when, for no apparent reason, Joch put a price on your heads, I no longer had any doubt. Threefingers is not such a fool as to throw money into the wind. I had to put my best foot forward to pinch the nephew of our mutual acquaintance. Stump was so kind as to have a word with the young man, and was able to pull something out of him after a few days. Before he died, the boy named a village. A certain Dog Green.”

“He didn’t say how Joch found out about it?”

“He didn’t know who told Joch. Even after you crossed him and deprived him of a couple of fingers, he waited quite a long time to try and take his revenge on you. The fact that he bothered at all means there’s profit in it for him. That or he had no choice.”

“Who could force Threefingers to dance to their tune?” asked Layen, frowning, and she cast a quick glance in my direction.

I knew of whom she was thinking. The Walkers.

“If you think about it, there are many who could, Layen. Joch is influential and powerful, but there are those who are more influential than him. They could very well exert pressure on him.” Mols ignored the glances we exchanged. “In any case, he’s already done it. Your heads are in the balance against ten thousand sorens.”

“Decent money.” Stump took an empty bottle of wine from the table and replaced it with a full one. “Many would be overjoyed to earn that much.”

“But not us.” Mols stressed the last word. “The amount is large, but I won’t play dirty with you.”

“It’s more profitable for you to get rid of Joch than to fill your treasure chest a bit more.” I grinned enigmatically.

“As always, you are right.” She did not look aside. “Joch has always been a bone in my throat, and he’s flown very high recently. The Viceroy’s good friend, he arranges all sorts of stylish diversions for him and his nobles. You should have seen the master of fireworks displays he got sent here from Grogan. All of Al’sgara was harping on about it for a month. New friends, new opportunities, new power and influence. He’s got a large part of the city under his thumb. Joch has tried to meddle in the business of the guild and my people. There were a few skirmishes, but thank Melot it hasn’t devolved into a war. But I’m not sure we’ll be able to hold out if he really turns his attention to crushing us. Threefingers can now set the Viceroy’s Guards on us and then enlist the help of the Tower. For now he’s being cautious, but how long will that continue? And I can’t strike at him; the old beetle cares too much for his health. In recent years, he’s become almost untouchable.”

“Not even for a good price? A thousand sorens and a pair of desperate men could deal with this easily.” Layen gestured to Stump to pour her some wine.

“I don’t have an extra thousand, Weasel.” It was unclear if Mols was joking or speaking seriously. “And desperate men have long since gone extinct. No one will risk their necks on such a hopeless job. I wasn’t joking when I said that Joch is not easy to get to. He sits in his house, which is more like a fortress, and if he travels around the city, it is with such a guard that even a small army couldn’t break through. They’d be devoured.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You’ll believe it when you see it for yourself. Tomorrow is the fourth day of the week. Joch is in the habit of going to the Fights, which now take place in the Cucumber Quarter. If you’re curious, you can take a look. Why are you grinning, Gray?” She raised her thin eyebrows.

“You said that you don’t have money or desperate men. Isn’t that why Whip and his comrades come to us? We’ll do everything for free. Did you decide to use our hands?”

“Of course,” she said with dignity. “It’s in your interests because of the price on your heads. And at the same time, you’ll be helping me. I’ll support you in any way I can, but relieving Threefingers of his soul is not my concern.”

I nodded. “A fairly honest answer.”

“Did my people really misbehave?” she asked suddenly.

“Just Midge and Bamut. The money turned their heads.”

“Bamut was a fool. I’ve no doubt he was obeying the runt. Well, it serves him right. But it’s too bad about Whip. He’s been with me since the very beginning. I hope his soul is in the Blessed Gardens. And what about the boy?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you about.”

“What do you mean?”

“About Shen, who you added to the threesome. Who is he and where did you dig him up?”

“I felt that a walkabout would be good for the boy’s soul. Let him gain some experience.” She didn’t flinch under my gaze. I could only envy Mols’s cold-bloodedness.

“Experience in what? In assassination or in healing practice? You know that he did not belong to the guild. The lad is a healer, and you should let those who know how do the killing. Why did he go with Whip?”

I was not about to say that Shen had the Gift or that he was a Healer. It’s unlikely Mols knew about it, and it should remain a secret for now.

“It was asked of me.” She did not move her gaze.

“Who asked, if it’s not a secret?”

“It is a secret.”

“Allow me to insist.”

“I won’t allow it.” Steel was rattling in her voice. “It’s not connected to you in any way. I had a choice of where I could place the healer, and I chose Whip. Perhaps Shen could shed some light on all this. Where is he now?”

“We don’t know.”

“Is he dead?”

“I told you, we don’t know. He fell behind on the road.”

Mols was a clever woman. She deftly moved from defense to attack. She began to ask questions and I had to answer, taking the heat off her. She was clearly not planning to tell me where she had found the Healer.

“When do you intend to start?”

“As soon as we get a look around.”

“Just don’t draw it out. You’ll be recognized. If you need anything, Stump is at your disposal. At any convenient time.”

“We’ll take that into account. Thank you for supper.” I stood up from the table and nodded a good-bye to the grim Stump. “We’ll talk when I’ve got a feel for the situation.”

“Do you have a place to spend the night?”

“Yes.”

We weren’t about to tell her about our hideout.

“Stump, see our guests out.” Mols was clearly pleased with the conversation. “I will pray for your success.”

And again, I did not know if she was mocking us or not.

The wine in the glass was the color of pigeon blood. Mols took the glass in hand and sipped. She tasted the tart yet at the same time heady aroma of ripe grapes. She didn’t like this drink, but today she felt the need for something stronger. The woman didn’t even dilute the wine with water. The incomparable taste of ripe berries flowed over her tongue, but Mols grimaced as if she were drinking vinegar.

It was dry. She couldn’t stand dry wine. And furthermore, it was red. How could Stump drink such shit, and how could it cost five sorens a bottle? Still grimacing, the head of the guild of Giiyans placed the glass back on the table; then she thought better of it and drained it in one gulp. Now she wasn’t grimacing anymore. As she had assumed, it didn’t get any better. A glimmer of dismay had settled somewhere in the depths of her soul.

The door opened and Stump entered the room quietly. He was sullen and agitated. He sat opposite her, took some beef tongue onto his plate, salted it generously, stuffed it into his mouth, and began to chew grimly. Mols remained silent, ignoring her assistant and the man with whom she had lived for twenty years.

“This is unprecedented.” Stump broke the silence. “You decided to reverse yourself and drink wine?”

“Right now’s not a good time for taunts, Olna.”

“For me, it’s the best time. Soon we won’t have any time for them. They left, if you care.”

“I don’t.”

“Did you really expect something different?”

Mols looked at the man angrily; then she sighed. “Yes. They might not have been so agreeable and compliant.”

“Gray had no cause. Plus, I would not allow—”

“And Weasel as well?” she interrupted him. “How would you have stopped her, if she had decided to boil your brains?”

“But she didn’t do that.”

“She simply didn’t want to. Like all intelligent people, they prefer to fight only when there is no other recourse. I didn’t thwart them and I didn’t drive them into a corner. She had no reason.”

“And yet you’re uneasy.”

“They know about the boy.”

“Oh,” said Stump emphatically, and then he reached for the bottle.

“Knowing Gray’s stubbornness, I’m surprised he didn’t insist on a direct answer.”

“Ness could have grown wiser over the years. Or it’s just not that important to him, Katrin.”

“With all his suspicion and caution?” Mols spat. “Don’t be stupid. It’s very important to him. He wants to understand why Shen went with Whip. Why a man outside of the guild was needed.”

“I thought you gave an adequate explanation.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.” She sighed and stood up from the table. “I wasn’t counting on them knowing that the lad is not part of the guild.”

“Do you think you acted correctly, giving in to that request?”

“I wasn’t fool enough to risk it. I was told directly that stubbornness on that matter would be fatal to me. And for you as well, by the way. I had to agree.”

“Why did they need to send the boy, and an untrained one at that? Did they not trust us?”

“Go and ask them.”

“No thank you, Katrin. I’ll somehow manage to live without the answer. I’m worried about what will happen if Gray comes and asks again. More aggressively. Will you tell him the truth?”

“The truth is dangerous. In this instance, for us. They paid us well and left the guild alone. I won’t give anything away.”

“And if Ness insists?”

Mols gazed coldly at her lover.

“For the time being everything is going according to plan. But if Gray starts kicking up a fuss, I myself will bring Joch his head and collect the ten thousand. Believe me, that would be much safer than crossing these people.”

“We can now honor the contract. When Gray and Weasel come again, we’ll be ready.”

“No. I’m in no hurry to finish what was started so long ago. Joch is in our way, and Ness and Layen can get rid of him. Then we can consider the contract.”

For some time he was silent, but then he said softly, “So be it.”