The man barked a laugh. “Do you expect me to believe that you are stupid enough to use your real name, let alone that a name such as Engel Verlad really exists? What hopeful mother would name her son after angels and truths?”
Rone didn’t let his irritation show, but his fingers twitched in his pockets. He remained standing. “Tell me your proposition.”
The man pushed his chair back a fraction and set his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers. “It’s a transportation job. And simple, for you, since you already have the item.”
Rone stiffened, the golden ribbons of the amarinth pinching his hand.
“Her name is Sandis Gwenwig.”
Rone didn’t have a chance to hide the surprise on his face, but he killed it quickly. Breathed deeply to calm his pulse and voice. “I am acquainted with the vessel.”
His spine itched.
The man made a knowing sound. “Then you may be acquainted with her owners.”
Rone let himself glower. Who was this man? He didn’t look like a grafter, yet he knew about Sandis. Had Kazen hired him? Galt? Someone else?
The man continued when Rone didn’t reply. “I’m willing to offer you ten thousand kol to deliver her to these coordinates tomorrow night.” He pulled a folded paper from his pocket and slid it across the desk.
Rone set his jaw, though his pulse jumped at the number. Ten thousand? Would that be enough to bribe his mother out of Gerech? It had to be. His mother’s salvation was sitting on the other side of that desk.
His eyes dropped to the paper. Sandis. He couldn’t. He couldn’t wrap her up like some trophy and drop her off to the men she’d been running from this whole time. The men who had taken her freedom. And this Kolosos thing . . . If she was right about that, it wouldn’t just affect her.
No, he couldn’t do that to her.
Her smile from that morning burned in his thoughts. She’d been so happy to see him. So excited to start looking for her great-uncle again. So . . . hopeful.
There had to be another way. Another job. Something would come up.
The ball in his gut eddied, printing the name of his mother into his stomach lining.
He shook his head, repeated his affirmation out loud, “No,” and started to turn.
“I’m not finished with you, Verlad.”
He paused. Sized up the man. He could take him out easily. Hurt him easily. What did he know, and how could Rone use it against him?
What was his connection to Kazen?
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be swayed. I’m prepared to raise the price.”
Rone narrowed his eyes. “What’s your motivation? You’re no grafter.”
The man frowned. “My reason is my own. For a man in your line of work, you certainly ask a lot of questions.”
Rone’s chest tightened. “No,” he repeated.
He’d made it one step past the door frame when the man said, “Your mother is in Gerech, is she not?”
Rone snarled. “You keep your nose out of it unless you want me to rip—”
“Have you visited her recently? She has a date set.”
Rone’s skeleton turned to ice as the man’s words registered. Puffing on his cigar, the man opened a drawer and pulled out a paper sitting on top of whatever else sat in there. No doubt he’d placed it there to make the moment more dramatic. He read over it. “Mm, yes, the fourteenth. That’s, what, three days from now? It would be immediate, I imagine, but the line for the executioner’s block gets so long at that place, you know. She has to wait her turn, just like everyone else.”
Rone’s fingers trembled. His underarms and hairline began to perspire. “You’re lying.”
The man turned the paper around and held it out so Rone could read it. His mother’s name. Her prisoner number. The signature of the warden. The fourteen, right there in bold, blocky letters.
Three days.
They were going to kill her. The ball in his gut doubled in size. His mom was going to hang for a simple theft. For his simple theft.
Three days.
Rone backed away from the edict like it was fire.
“Give me Sandis, and you’ll get her out.” The man tucked the paper away.
Rone grabbed a handful of hair. Time was up. He couldn’t wait any longer. His free hand drifted to his pocket.
The amarinth.
The time had come. He would sell it; he had to. Even so, he couldn’t ignore that it wouldn’t solve all his problems. The grafters . . . the grafters would still be after him. After Sandis. After his mother. Could he do that to her? Could he pull her into a life of squalor and crime, where Kazen, his lackeys, or his vessels could kill her at any moment?
But if he forfeited Sandis, everything would return to the way it had been. There would be no more running. No more fear.
His stomach cramped at the thought. Sandis’s smile radiated behind his eyelids.
The man tapped his cigar on the side of an ashtray. “Fifteen thousand, and papers out of Kolingrad. For you and your mother.”
Rone stopped breathing.
Papers. Out of Kolingrad.
The man likely offered the papers as a further selling point—emigration documentation sold for incredible prices in the underground. Rone could sell a single set and retire. It was that hard to leave this miserable place. People surrendered their entire life earnings just to see the other side of those mountains.
This man could hardly know it, but Rone wanted emigration papers more than anything else.
He turned back. Licked his teeth behind his lips. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “And I’m to believe you have access to such things?”
“I do.” He spoke with such confidence. “Believe me, Engel, I am a trustworthy man. But you won’t receive any of your rewards until the vessel is delivered. I won’t have you toting her to Godobia and running away from us.”
Rone’s stomach sank to his knees. Shivers coursed up and down his limbs. Two sets of emigration papers. Fifteen thousand . . . that would be enough to get his mother out of prison, both of them out of Kolingrad, and for them to start a new life in the south. A new, better life, without the crowds and the pollution and the constant reminders that they’d been abandoned by one of the country’s most powerful men.
But Sandis—
“Kazen won’t let you put a hole in me.”
She’d said it herself. He wouldn’t hurt her, right? He wanted Ireth back. Sandis was a strong vessel—God’s tower, she could summon on herself. She was valuable. Fifteen thousand and two sets of emigration documents valuable.
She’d always have clothing and food. She wouldn’t have to hide anymore. And this Kolosos she talked about . . . the Angelic hadn’t been concerned about it. He of all people should know. If he wasn’t concerned, then maybe there was no cause to be.
The man scratched the side of his nose. “Your dear mother will be—”
“Shut up.” His finger twitched. He balled his hands into fists.
Sandis’s smile. Her thank-yous, her skin—
He’d done his part, hadn’t he? And his mother . . . his mother’s imprisonment was his fault. He owed this to her! If he didn’t do something, she was going to die. The parent who hadn’t abandoned him, who had never given up on him, would die. There was no other way to get her out, to get her to safety.
Rone’s mind spun for another solution, but he couldn’t see one. The numbers didn’t add up. The money didn’t add up. Even if they miraculously found Talbur Gwenwig today, he didn’t know the man would have the money, let alone if he’d be willing to lend it. And the amarinth—there wasn’t enough time to find a good buyer, to prove the thing’s usefulness, to clear the withdrawals from the bank . . . and even if he could miraculously make it all work, then what? They’d still be trapped in this horrid city, Rone without work and Ernst Renad always lurking in the shadows, seeking revenge.
Releasing the amarinth, Rone reached forward. Took the folded paper with the designated address scrawled on it. He knew the
place. A few miles from where Sandis had incinerated half a dozen men.
She was dangerous . . . She couldn’t ever truly be free, not with those marks permanently marring her skin. What other solution was there, logically speaking? She’d be caught eventually, whether by the grafters, the police, or the priests. Maybe it was safest for her to go back to the underground lair. Better for her.
“Engel.” The man’s voice was firm, impatient.
Rone crumpled the paper in his fist. Ground his teeth until they squeaked. Took in a deep breath. Met the man’s eyes.
“She won’t be hurt?”
The man offered a simple nod.
“I’ll do it.”
Chapter 20
“Whip your hand against the inside of my forearm—yes, like that—then turn your wrist over and grab me.”
Sandis stood off-center in the secret room in Arnae Kurtz’s sizeable flat, her back to the shelves. Arnae had his arm extended toward her, as if he meant to grab her but had stopped before reaching her neck. Sandis tried to imagine his fingers were Kazen’s, long and pale, crooked like spider legs. His veins raised and half-hidden by a black sleeve.
I will be stronger than you.
She lifted her arm, too, then twisted it around to grab his.
“Yes, good. Now pull it down and do what I showed you before. Here.” He pointed to the space where his neck met his shoulder.
Sandis pulled Arnae’s wrist toward her hip and brought her other hand forward, flat, and aimed for his neck. She hit him, but not hard. He was not her enemy.
Arnae pulled back and smiled. “Yes, just like that. But twenty times faster and fifty times harder.”
Sandis gave him a bashful smile. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Ha!” the seugrat master barked. “You couldn’t if you wanted to, child.”
She didn’t correct him on that point, merely nodded and raised her fists. “All right, again.”
Arnae reached for her, and Sandis repeated the motions, pushing his hand away and striking hers gently against his neck. She grinned. This felt like something that might work in real life. After she had cleaned the flat and helped cook dinner, Arnae had offered to teach her some self-defense, since Rone was out late again.
“One more time,” Arnae said, but as he reached for her, the secret door opened and let in a burst of smoky air. Sandis’s heart thumped at the same time relief fountained to her shoulders and down her arms. Rone was hale and whole. She was sure half the reason Arnae was teaching her was to distract her.
She hurried to the end of the hall at the same time Rone reached it. The sallow look on his face wasn’t good. “No luck?”
He blinked, as if noticing her for the first time. “What? No. I mean, yes.”
But his expression didn’t match his words. His eyes were dull, his shoulders droopy. “You got work?”
“Yeah. In a couple of days. It will . . . We’ll be taken care of.”
There was no excitement in his voice. No hope. Sandis hugged herself, suddenly cold. “And your mother?”
His brow twitched. “Yes. I think it will help her, too.”
Was there something he wasn’t sharing? Had so much happened that he’d lost faith?
Sandis took his hand and squeezed his fingers; they were cool to the touch. “That’s good news, Rone.” She paused. “Are you all right? Did something happen?” Her heart fell. “It’s not a terrible job, is it?”
“They’re all terrible jobs.” He pushed past her into the room, where the bedrolls still lay in the corner. An evasion, or simple weariness?
He wore a new jacket. Sandis decided not to ask where he’d gotten it.
Arnae folded his arms. “You seem dejected, boy.”
Rone shook his head. “I’m just tired. I was all over the city today.” He collapsed into a sitting position on his bedroll and cradled his head in his hands.
“We saved you some dinner.” Sandis glanced at Arnae to make sure it was all right for them to enter his side of the flat. He nodded, and she hurried to the stove to retrieve the chicken and potatoes there. She set the plate before Rone on his bedroll.
He sighed, avoiding her gaze. “Thank you.”
She hadn’t done something wrong, had she? Her mind whisked back through the day. No . . . he’d been fine when he left this morning.
He’s just tired, she told herself. Like he said.
It had been an easy day for her, but a wearying one for him. She’d repay him for all his efforts after they found Talbur. After she built herself a new foundation and discovered a way to thwart Kazen once and for all.
Let it work out. Please, she silently prayed. I know I’m not worthy, but I’ll never bother you again if you just let this work out.
“Tomorrow, Rone,” Arnae said.
Rone nodded. “We’ll be gone.” He took a bite, chewed, swallowed. Hesitated. “There’s actually a decent place we can hide out. Found it today, but it won’t be vacant until tomorrow night. It’s a little ways from here.”
“I don’t mind,” Sandis tried, wishing he would smile. Or tease her. Or curse. He seemed so beside himself. But of course he was exhausted. He’d swum the canal for her, probably carried her all the way here himself. Jumped all over Dresberg to find work to sustain her. Sandis hadn’t done anything but clean and learn a few self-defense moves.
Her bones grew heavy. “Thank you for everything you do, Rone,” she said softly. “I don’t know where I’d be without you. Thank you so much.”
Rone winced and touched his cheek—he must have bitten it. “It’s no problem, Sandis. I’d have to do it anyway.”
Arnae hummed deep in his throat. “Well, it’s late. I’m retiring. Try not to ruin me before your departure, hm?”
Sandis turned around. “Thank you.”
He smiled at her and left, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Sandis rubbed sleep from her eyes—it was late—but climbed onto her bedroll and asked, “Where did you go?”
“Lots of places. Back and forth.”
“Do you want some water?”
Rone was chewing, so he couldn’t answer. Sandis filled a cup from the pitcher Arnae had left in the corner and handed it to him. Briefly recounted her day.
Rone finished his plate and set it aside, then lay down, crossing his arms over his face to block out the light.
“I can turn off the lamp—”
“It’s fine, Sandis.”
She frowned. Watched him breathe. Let her eyes trace the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips. “Do you want a bath . . . ?”
“Not right now.”
Her chest tightened. This wasn’t simply fatigue. Couldn’t be. “I’m sorry, Rone.”
He lifted one arm and looked at her with one eye. “For what?”
She hugged her knees to her chest. “For being such a burden. For causing all of this.”
But he shook his head and dropped his arm. “You’re not a burden, Sandis.”
She licked her lips. “But you’re so . . . stressed.”
Rone dropped both his arms and propped himself on his elbow. “Not because of you. You’re fine. You’re wonderful, all right? I’m not angry with you. Just . . .” He shook his head. “I’m spent today.”
She smiled. Wonderful. Nodded.
She snuffed the kerosene lantern, then felt her way back to bed. Lay down and watched the ceiling until her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could make out the rafters. There were no windows in the room, only a sliver of light coming from beneath the door that led to Arnae’s flat.
Rolling onto her side, she watched Rone, though she could barely differentiate him from the floorboards. His heat radiated through his clothes. He smelled like rivers and smoke and cigars, oddly enough. She liked the smells. They were familiar. Masculine.
He sat up and pulled off his jacket, tossing it somewhere in the darkness. Lay back down. Sighed.
Sandis reached forward and pinched the fabric of his sh
irt between her fingers. “It will work out, Rone. We’ll find Talbur, and everything will work out. We’ll help your mother, too. I’ll do whatever it takes, I promise.”
He grimaced. Why? “You don’t owe me anything, Sandis.”
“You’ve saved my life. Multiple times—”
“You’ve done the same. We’re even.”
She let go of his shirt. Let her hand fall on the bedroll beside him. After a moment, he reached over and took it in his. A thrill passed through her fingers and up her arm until it danced in her jaw.
He rubbed his thumb over her knuckle. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
Rone dropped her hand. “Just . . .”
He didn’t finish the thought.
Tugging on a smidgeon of bravery, Sandis scooted herself over until Rone’s heat blanketed her. Carefully, almost so he wouldn’t feel it, she rested her head on his chest.
His arm circled around her, pulling her close.
Closing her eyes, Sandis smiled into the darkness and let herself sink into him. Listened to his too-quick heartbeat. Set her hand against his stomach.
This. If this peaceful, happy moment could only last forever . . . She felt sure, as Rone’s pulse slowly calmed and his breathing evened, that this was what heaven had to be like. Warm and safe. A place where she belonged, with people she loved. This was bliss. This was family.
It was all falling into place. Soon she’d find Talbur, and the three of them would free Rone’s mother and find some way to thwart Kazen, and she’d have Rone and family and belonging, and her time with Kazen would become but a memory on the wind, easily forgotten. She was so close she could feel it thrumming beneath her skin, even as she fell asleep.
The amarinth spun.
At first it made its usual whirring noise, but it got louder and louder, until it sounded like a whistle. An alarm. A scream.
Sandis stood in front of it, out of body, watching the golden ribbons spin faster and faster until she couldn’t see them at all. Instead, the center of the artifact transfixed her. It glowed white, so brilliant it hurt Sandis’s eyes to look at it, but she couldn’t pull herself away. Louder, faster, brighter.
She felt him there, fiery and desperate. This wasn’t her dream; it was his. Ireth’s.
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