Maybe the boneshatter charm wasn’t my only option. I’d never outrun him in this condition, but with fog for cover, I might outclimb him. Cara should’ve had enough time to clear out of the Silver Strike by now. She’d head for my charm stash in the warehouse attic I’d set up as a bolthole. She’d be safe, there. I’d warded that attic tight as Simon’s house.
Pello dragged me into a packing yard some ten streets away from the Silver Strike. I willed the fog to hurry up, as we zigzagged through a maze of alleys between looming stacks of sealed, warded crates. Just as the first ghostly wisps wafted over the stacks, Pello shoved me down a dead-ended alley, then backed to stand blocking the exit. The wicked silver crescent of a nightstar blade glinted in his hand.
“I thought you wanted to talk,” I said, my eyes locked on the knife. Had he decided killing me was safest? He might think he had me trapped, but I’d scramper up those crates faster than a whiptail the instant he moved, no matter the pounding ache of my head. Of course, if he could throw that knife as well as he could grapple, I’d be fucked.
“I do,” he said. “A private talk, one shadow player to another.”
“As you so kindly pointed out at the convoy, I’m no shadow player.”
His teeth flashed. “Yet you succeeded not only in slipping your charge past both a blood mage and the Alathians, but held his trust so completely he never saw your betrayal coming. Forgive me for underestimating you.”
Digging for some hint of remorse over Kiran, was he? I’d not give him one, no matter how badly his words burned. “The job’s over. Bury me in flattery all you like, I’ve got nothing you can profit over. So how about you leave me the fuck alone?”
Pello didn’t move. “Did the boy truly cast a binding on you in Ninavel?”
Remembering my shout at Cara, I opened my mouth to agree, then hesitated. If he and Simon had questioned Kiran, he might know it for a lie. “No,” I said, sullenly. “I took the job for the money. But I don’t mean to lose my trade over it. Cara’ll see I never work as an outrider again, unless I can convince her I had no choice. Thanks a lot for fucking that up, you asshole. Now she’ll ward her windows, and I’ll not get within twenty feet of her.”
“Ah.” He sounded disappointed, though I couldn’t figure why. “But you’ve no need to grovel at her feet. Why work as an outrider, when other aptitudes might earn you so much more?”
“What, you dragged me out here at knifepoint to offer me a gods-damned
job
?” I sneered.
Pello shrugged. “My employer could use a man of your talents. I assure you, the pay far outstrips the pittance you earn scrabbling around in the mountains.”
Khalmet’s bloodsoaked hand, was he serious? If I pretended to accept his offer, maybe I could get into Simon’s house after all...No. A flash of Pello’s slack gray face, blood leaking from his mouth, stomped that idea flat. Simon would never allow a stranger inside without the same proof of loyalty he’d demanded from Pello.
“Thanks, but I’d rather scrabble in the mountains. The city’s got nothing I want.” I risked a brief glance upward. The fog was thickening fast.
“No?” Pello’s head cocked. “Not even a certain red-haired Tainter in your old handler’s tender care?”
My heart stopped. “How—” I choked off the rest, too late.
Pello’s smile was sharp as his blade. “Ninavel holds no secrets I cannot uncover.”
Oh, gods. My childhood friend Liana was the only soul in Ninavel who knew of my interest in Melly—but that was one person too many. Pello must’ve winnowed out my secret before the convoy even left the city, suspecting he might need the leverage. Suliyya grant that was all he’d done. Shadow men had no scruples.
Pello read my fear. “Oh, I’ve not touched a hair on the child’s pretty head.”
Not yet,
said the mocking lilt of his voice.
“What do you want?” I spat.
“Serve my employer and the girl is yours, without you owing Red Dal a single kenet,” Pello said. “You need not even wait for her Change.”
“What, just like that?” I scoffed. “Red Dal won’t let a Tainter go so easy.” Mother of maidens, I needed time to think. My head still pounded as if attacked by a pick-axe.
Pello turned his free hand palm-up. “My employer is not only wealthy, but wields great influence in Ninavel. He’d find it simple enough to make Red Dal an offer impossible to refuse.”
True enough that Red Dal wouldn’t refuse a blood mage. Not that I thought Pello’s promises were anything but empty. This had to be a trap.
“Let’s say I take your employer’s offer. What does he ask of me?”
“For now? Dress as a shopkeeper’s courier and come to Gilpanis Terrace in the southwest quarter. Knock on the service door of the house with iceflowers carved on the lintels. Once inside, you’ll learn more.”
Yeah, right. I’d spent long hours staring at those very iceflowers from my cramped drainhole. He meant me to come to Simon’s house—and once inside, Simon would pounce on me and tear the truth of my intentions from my head. Now Pello’s game made sense. Far easier for him to avoid Alathian attention if I entered Simon’s house willingly rather than hauled along at knife-point.
Pello watched me with the keen intensity of a stalking sandcat. “Should you need an extra incentive...you have an account at Bentgate House, I believe? Check the amount, tomorrow. You’ll find an increase. A little gift from my employer.”
My blood turned to ice. Bentgate was the Alathian banking house where I’d stashed Gerran’s money and gems; and an account that could be accessed could be emptied. Pello’s message was clear.
Refuse me, and I’ll remove all chance of saving her.
If Pello thought he could fuck me over same as Jylla, he was dead wrong. I glared at him. “You want me to consider this? Then back the fuck off. My head’s killing me. The only thing I want right now is a pains-ease charm and a drink.”
“Consider, then. Yet after tomorrow’s dawn, I warn you, my offer expires. My employer is a generous man, but an impatient one.” With a flick of Pello’s hand, the nightstar blade disappeared up his sleeve. He backed away and vanished down an alley.
I waited long minutes, then scrambled up a crate stack and surveyed the yard. Nothing showed between the moonlit crates but fat streamers of fog. I dodged and hopped along the stacks, ignoring the spike of pain that stabbed my head with each jarring landing. Gods all damn Pello! His knowledge of Melly was bad enough, but if he’d told Simon...fuck!
I struggled for calm. Simon’s magic couldn’t harm Melly so long as he remained within Alathia’s borders. If our plan succeeded, that’s exactly where he and Pello would stay. And as for the money...I’d move it, soon as Bentgate opened for business.
But where? If Pello had found the account at Bentgate, he could find others. Keeping coin and gems outside a banking house was asking for trouble. Kost didn’t have Taint thieves, but it had the ordinary kind.
I shoved that worry aside for later. Right now I had to find Cara. Preferably before she did anything stupid, like hunt Pello in hopes of saving me.
No charm could track me while I wore Kiran’s amulet, but I didn’t doubt Pello was an expert at mundane methods. I circled, backtracked, climbed over roofs and traversed across buildings, until I was sure nobody followed me to our bolthole.
The warehouse I’d chosen was the smallest of three in the yard of an importer specializing in fabric and furs. With winter over, demand for furs had diminished, and the importer had converted the small warehouse into overstock storage. Perfect for me, since it meant visits from workers were rare, and nobody missed the goods I relocated to the attic. The yard was well warded, but as with Gerran’s, a good climber could circumvent the protections. I’d blocked off a space amidst the attic rafters and set my own wards to cover every inch of it, keyed to me and Cara. Nobody else could enter.
Except a mage, like Simon
, my fear insisted. If Pello had found Melly and my account, had he found my other secrets as well?
I slithered in the access vent and dropped onto rough-hewn boards, my heart thumping in time with my head. A sudden wash of lanternlight illuminated a crossbow aimed straight between my eyes.
“Dev!” Cara dropped the crossbow and swept me up in a fierce hug. “Thank Khalmet!”
I returned the hug, my throat tight. Mother of maidens, it felt good to hold her, both of us warm and safe and alive.
“Gods, I thought I’d killed you,” Cara said into my hair. “First when you fell, and then when you let that bastard drag you off...you rat, you knew I couldn’t track you!”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “No point in Pello getting both of us.”
She drew back and glared at me. “Which is why I told you to get out that window. Next time, don’t be so fucking stubborn.”
“What, or you’ll bash my head in, again?”
She winced. “Sorry. Never thought you’d be so clumsy.”
“Thanks a lot,” I muttered. I glanced around the attic. Cara had opened the warded box of my charm stash. Supplies lay scattered around her pack on the rough wood of the crate pieces I’d laid over ceiling beams to form a floor. But the bales of fabric I’d hauled up to serve as a makeshift table still stood slightly off kilter, and the furs I used for a bed remained in the exact layered mess I remembered. No guarantee that Pello hadn’t paid a visit, but it eased my nerves a touch.
Cara prodded with cautious fingers at the mess on my scalp. “Sit down and tell me what the hell happened while I fix this up.”
Obediently, I dropped to the floor beside the pile of furs. “He dragged me off to a packing yard, and—” I hissed in heartfelt relief, as the cool tingle of a pains-ease charm muted the throbbing in my head to a faint whisper. “Oh gods, Cara...he knows about Melly.”
Cara froze in the act of wiping my blood-matted hair with a cloth soaked in spirits. “What?”
I recounted the entire conversation, complete with my certainty that Pello meant Melly as the lure to draw me straight into Simon’s grasp.
“That sneaking little rat.” Cara’s hands clenched as if she wished she gripped Pello’s throat rather than the fat copper disc of a skin-seal charm. “You think he knows we’re trying to free Kiran?”
“If he knew, he wouldn’t dance around with threats. We’d be dead, either by Simon’s hand, or his.” The crawling itch of the sealing charm spread over my scalp, making me shift and grimace. “No...he suspects we’re working a scheme, but isn’t sure if Simon’s our mark. So he pulls out the carrot-and-stick routine with Melly, figuring even I don’t fall for the trap, then I’ll be so busy moving my accounts I can’t interfere with them leaving Kost.”
“Pello’s deadline—you figure that’s when Simon means to make his move?”
I nodded. Cara handed me a tin cup full of dark purple liquid that fizzed and stank like rotting eggs. “Drink this,” she said. “I got it from an apothecary on the way here. It’s supposed to be good for head injuries.”
I took a wary sip. “Gack. Don’t the Alathians sell any potions that taste good?” At Cara’s severe look, I made a face and downed the lot. “Did you find a longsight charm? If Simon leaves—”
“Don’t worry, I got a charm.” Cara cast a satisfied look at the crossbow. “Not half so good as Ninavel-made, but it’ll do. We’re ready for them.” She frowned. “If Simon’s truly preparing to leave Kost, Pello can’t have much spare time. You’ve got to move your money, sure, but maybe you don’t have to worry about hiding it. Why would Pello ferret out money and gems he doesn’t even need?”
“With Melly’s life at stake, I can’t take that chance. I’ve got to assume he’ll try. Just like we’ve got to assume he means to shadow us. We’ll have to trade off Kiran’s amulet every time we switch shifts in the drain hole, and have one of us scout first for Pello before the other makes the climb And when we ambush them...” I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “Distraction’s still your top priority. But if you get a clear shot at Pello, you take it, understand?”
Cara nodded, her face grim. She worried at the end of her braid. “This mess is my fault, isn’t it? He’d not have come back to the room if I hadn’t kissed him...”
“If he bothered to access my account at Bentgate, he was suspicious long before. No help for it now. Either we keep on best we can, or cut and run.” I met her eyes, straight on. “You want to run, there’s no shame in it. This plan was a hell of a risk from the start. With Pello on his guard, it may not work at all.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Would you run with me?” When I hesitated, she snorted. “I thought not. You’d go to the Alathians, they’d execute Kiran, and you’d end up charm-bound to slave away in some coal pit when they found out about your smuggling. How would that help Melly, huh?”
“You know about her, now,” I said, simply. “The Bentgate account’s in my name, but I keyed the vault wards to you as well as me. You can take the money and gems, go back to Ninavel. It should be enough to buy Melly straight out if you sell the gems and put in a bid with Red Dal.”
Cara’s mouth fell open. “Khalmet’s hand, Dev. That’s been your backup plan all along, hasn’t it? That’s why you insisted I’d need to fire the bow from such a distance. To keep me safe, in case you get killed.”
“Well, yeah.” I’d thought that part was obvious. “Somebody’s got to live to help Melly.”
“Makes more sense if it’s you, doesn’t it? Maybe I should go to the Alathians, and you should take the money and run. I haven’t done anything illegal.”
Oh, the thought was tempting. But the memory of Kiran’s desperate, terrified face brought a black wave of guilt welling up. “I can’t run. Not while there’s still a chance to get Kiran free of both Simon and the Alathians.”
“Then we stick to the plan, because I’m not going anywhere.” Cara produced a flask, took a swig, and handed it to me. “Here. The Varkevians say that
hekavi
shared between friends brings the touch of Khalmet’s good hand.”
“You saved the rest of that bottle?” I drank, and shut my eyes in appreciation. It tasted like summer and sunlight.
“Hell, yes. That shit’s expensive. Bad enough I had to waste it on Pello.” Cara knelt in front of me and traced gentle fingers through my hair. “The swelling’s gone down. How’s it feel?”
“Much better.” Surprisingly so. The fizzy glop had quieted the last whisper of pain, and the
hekavi
kindled mellow warmth in my stomach. I smiled at Cara. “Near good as new, in fact. Thanks for cleaning me up.”