Oscar shrugged. “Stubborn. Like a goat. Got him places he probably wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. Got both of us places, if I’m honest.”
Oscar’s voice had taken on a wistful quality. “You sound like he was the reason you did some of your jobs.” Finn had always thought that Oscar had been the one to have brought his father into the difficult jobs. That it had been Oscar who’d guided Finn’s father down the road into working for a crew. Maybe that had been a mistake.
“He had an eye, Finn. Not too many like him anymore. Not just an eye, but he was good man, you see. Someone you could trust. Someone like that…”
“Did he give you the nickname the Hand?” Finn had never heard the story, and Oscar had never offered it. It was better than Shuffles.
“It’s not anything exciting. I was pulling my first job when I’d finally gotten onto a crew, and it involved grabbing a few things from a shop in the Rester section.” He shook his head. “It was a long time ago, so don’t go investigating it.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Anyway. I ended up with a bottle of ink spilled all over my hand. It didn’t go away for a long time.” Oscar just shrugged.
“That’s it?”
“You thought it would be something more exciting?”
“I was hoping. I figured a nickname like the Hand meant that you were the most skilled thief and had quick hands.”
“I am that.” Oscar grinned at him. “Men don’t get their name based on their choices. Look at yours. You never wanted to be called Shuffles.”
“Had I stayed in the crew, I wasn’t going to be called Shuffles my whole life.”
“Probably not. Eventually, you would’ve earned another name. Everybody does over time. Eventually, you get one that you like.”
“And you never minded the nickname of the Hand?”
“I figured it fit, especially as I got a little farther in my career.”
“It’s not as exciting as the King.”
“Leon was stupid to call himself that. Then he bribed others to make the name stick.”
“So, you can give yourself your own name.”
“Only if you work at it. I never liked calling him the King, but when he was running the crew, it sort of fit, so I did.”
“And Wolf?”
“Well, Wolf is his surname.”
“So, you’re saying it was a terrible name too.”
“Not as bad as Shuffles.” Oscar laughed, and shook his head.
Jimmel returned carrying two steins of ale and set them on the table. “Food shouldn’t be too long.” He pulled a chair out from the table and took a seat, looking at Oscar. “Things have been dry around here, Hand. Need a little more activity.”
“Dry can be good, Jimmel. Too much excitement and you end up drawing the wrong kind of attention.”
“Aw, the Archers don’t much care about Brinder section. We don’t have much of anything for them to be concerned about. They would much rather stay closer to the palace.”
“You might be surprised,” Oscar said. “Sometimes, you get people who you never would’ve expected who care about your section.”
“Such as?”
Oscar nodded to Finn. “Take my colleague here. He has a particular interest in this section.”
Jimmel looked over to Finn and regarded him. “We don’t need any trouble here. I’m not sure what you think you’re going to find in this section, but we don’t need anybody snooping around and causing us trouble.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about him snooping around. He knows his way around the section just fine.”
“Does he, now?”
“That’s enough,” Finn said.
Oscar smirked slightly. “See? Now he’s getting a little upset.”
“You don’t want to upset your employer,” Jimmel said.
Oscar took the stein of ale and took a long drink as he watched Finn. There was a hint of amusement glittering in his eyes, and Finn just shook his head. Oscar was doing this to play with him. “You’re probably right. I need to be careful. I don’t want to lose out on any jobs because I got a little ahead of myself.” He turned to Finn. “You will forgive me, won’t you, Mr. Jagger?”
Finn clenched his jaw, but the proprietor turned, looking at Finn in a different light. “I’ve heard about you.” He glanced from Oscar to Finn. “You brought the executioner into my place?”
“I didn’t see that was going to be a problem,” Oscar said.
“You might as well have brought Archers in here,” he said. Jimmel got to his feet, backing away from the table. “I don’t want any difficulty. If you’re going to take the Hand away, just make sure it’s clear I cooperated.”
Finn regarded him for a moment before nodding. “I will keep that in mind.” He disappeared, and Finn turned back to Oscar. “Was that necessary?”
“I don’t know about necessary, but it was entertaining.”
“For you.”
“Oh, he’s harmless. Besides, I think he’ll get a kick out of telling the story about how the Hand and the executioner came to his tavern. You know how his kind like stories.”
Finn looked toward the kitchen where he had disappeared. “I just wanted to come here and talk with you a little bit. I didn’t need you to taunt me.”
“Come on, Finn. You know how it is.”
Finn nodded. He had been away from the streets a long time now, and had forgotten about the steady teasing, the occasional taunt, and the constant desire to try to show off for others in the crew. It was a lifestyle that he no longer missed.
“How have you been?” Finn asked.
Oscar lifted his ale, taking a long drink. “You not going to give it back?”
“There’s no point,” Finn said.
“No point? Come on, Finn. Would it help if I called you Shuffles?”
Finn tensed, then took a drink of his ale.
Oscar started to smile again. “There he is. There is the stubbornness you take after your father with. The Goat.” Oscar leaned forward. “I always saw it in you, you know. When Meyer claimed you, I knew you’d be a good fit. There wasn’t any choice for you to do otherwise, and you’re too damn stubborn to give up.”
“Have you seen any of the others?”
“Have you?” Oscar looked over the top of his stein of ale.
“They were banished, but that doesn’t always mean much.” It wouldn’t have were it Finn. Stay away from the Archers, and none would even know. “I thought I saw Wolf the other day. At least, someone like him.”
“He’s became a ghost. Left the city like he was supposed to. Not that I can blame him. He was too wrapped up in Leon and his crew, and too many people knew that he had a hand in all of that. It was better for him to go quiet for a while.”
Finn took another swig of ale. If Wolf decided to resurface, that might be trouble for Finn. He was the kind of person who would get revenge, and given what had happened to the King, and how Finn had been responsible for the disruption of the crew, he could easily imagine Wolf deciding to take action against him.
Finn was in a place where he didn’t have to worry about such things anymore. He was the executioner’s apprentice now. He helped supervise the wardens, the iron masters, and had some role with the Archers.
“If you hear anything, let me know.”
“You know that’s not how it works.”
“I know that, but you wouldn’t do a favor for an old friend?”
“Would you?”
Finn set the mug of ale down, and he looked over to Oscar. “What do you need?” He started to wonder if his meeting Oscar was not a chance one at all. “You’ve got something going on.”
Oscar took a drink and looked up, grinning at Jimmel as he carried a tray of food over to the table. He slid biscuits and gravy and sausage toward each of them. It smelled amazing. Finn had been eating his sister’s cooking ever since staying with Meyer, and while Lena was a good cook, she tended to use less fat than Finn had
eaten while running with the crew. There was something about the grease that left Finn’s mouth watering.
Jimmel eyed Finn for a moment before turning and leaving.
Finn grabbed the biscuit and shoved it into the gravy before taking a bite. The flavor burst in his mouth. There had been a part of him that had worried that Jimmel might do something to his food—and he might have—but it tasted good enough that Finn put those thoughts to rest.
Oscar finished his sausage and licked his fingers. “I figured I’d ask what you were working on these days.”
Finn shrugged. “There’s always something going on. Why?”
“Just curious what he has you doing. I don’t know much about how the master executioner works, or what your role with him is. Just that you help him hang people.” He mimed wrapping a noose around his neck and his eyes bulged. “Figured there has to be more to it since we don’t have a Blood Court each day.”
Finn chewed on the sausage. It was just as good as the biscuit. “I’ve been looking into a fire in the Jorend section.” He was careful about how he said it, not wanting to give away anything to Oscar. The Hand might be able to help with the investigation, but only if he chose to do so.
Oscar looked up. “I heard about that one. Sounds like the bastard who did it left ten people dead.”
“Not ten, but there were a few who died.”
“Still. A whole section of the city burned.”
Finn nodded. “It was pretty bad.”
Oscar sniffed. “Can’t imagine that’s a pleasant part of the job. I don’t know if I’d want to go see something like that. Too much bad luck, you know.”
“I doubt any of the gods would curse you for going to look at the remains of Jorend.”
“Maybe not, but I’d rather not take any chances. I know better than to anger the gods. I do enough of that as it is.”
Finn laughed as he finished his sausage, following it with another swallow of ale. There was something relaxing about being there in the tavern again with Oscar, even just like this. Ever since Finn had lost his father, Oscar had been a mentor for him. This was different. This was almost friendly.
“You figure out if the bastard is guilty?” Oscar took a drink and set his ale down. “That’s why you went there, isn’t it?”
“I don’t really know if the man is guilty. He claims he isn’t, but then, he wouldn’t. A crime like that isn’t the kind where you go and admit your guilt. That’s a sure way to hang. If you’ve heard anything…”
Oscar looked over at Finn. “Not so much that would be helpful for you, Shuffles.”
Finn finished the plate of food and pushed it off to the side, leaving only the ale remaining. He had a feeling that when the food and drink were both gone, his conversation with Oscar would be over. He needed to figure out what Oscar wanted from him see what he might be able to learn from Oscar in the meantime.
“You could help.”
“Could I?” Oscar straightened. “I imagine you’re looking for any others in that section who might have wanted it to burn,” Oscar said while taking a drink. “Or do you plan to let the man you have in custody hang?”
“My job is to find out whether someone is innocent or guilty. If they’re innocent, then I can’t sentence them for a crime they didn’t commit.”
“All men are guilty of something,” Oscar said. “All you have to do is figure out what, and then you can sentence them for that. You don’t need to go digging too deep into something like that.”
“I guess that’s why I’m the executioner’s apprentice and you’re the Hand.”
“You weren’t innocent, Finn.”
“I didn’t deserve to hang, either.” They fell into silence, and Finn took a long drink of his ale, setting down the empty stein. He wasn’t going to get anything from Oscar this visit. “You had a favor in mind. Why don’t you get on with it? I have a feeling you followed me.”
Oscar watched him. “And if I did? There’s no crime in doing so.”
“No crime,” Finn agreed. “But it tells me you need something now, not just sometime in the future.”
Oscar regarded him, and a debate warred behind his eyes. Finn had never been able to read Oscar and couldn’t now. He got to his feet and tapped on the table.
“It really is good to see you, Finn. I know you don’t want to stop by the Wenderwolf, but any would welcome you. The others too.”
“Others?”
“The other girls.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” Finn said, shaking his head.
“You’ve moved on from girls? Gods, Finn! I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…” Finn shrugged. “I’m not so sure there are too many women eager to get involved with an executioner.”
“You don’t have to get involved with them. The kind of girls that hang around the Wenderwolf aren’t looking for marriage. At least not yet. You can have a good time.”
“I’ll think about it.” Finn looked around but didn’t see anyone watching. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“What am I not telling Finn, or what am I not telling the executioner?”
“Oscar—”
“I’ve got this round,” Oscar said, tossing a few coins on the table. “The next time, you get to buy.” Oscar glanced over to the door, and his brow furrowed for a moment. “Don’t be a stranger.”
With that, Oscar headed out of the tavern.
Finn sat for another moment before getting to his feet and making his way out. Oscar had already disappeared, though Finn wasn’t surprised by that. He had given Oscar a chance to get moving so that Finn wouldn’t be able to follow.
The conversation had helped, surprisingly. He had a bit more direction with what he needed to do for his investigation, but a little less direction with what he needed to do about Oscar. It wasn’t that he wanted to ignore that past, but Meyer didn’t want Finn to hold on to it too tightly, either. That was how Finn had almost got into trouble before.
As he wound through the Brinder section, making his way toward Jorend, he saw Helda in the distance. She caught sight of him and started toward him.
Finn looked down, smoothing his shirt and pants, before looking up and meeting Helda’s blue eyes with a grin. “You’re looking quite nice today.”
“I’m surprised to see you in Brinder again. What are you doing out here?” she asked.
He straightened, trying to keep himself from looming too close to her but wanting to show confidence. It was so easy to do with the prisoners but strangely difficult when talking to Helda.
“I came out here to talk with an old friend.”
Helda looked around, touching her hand to her head and tracing her fingers through her hair before turning back to him. Her pale blue dress caught the wind, revealing a bit of leg.
She looked past him, her eyes narrowing slightly. Finn was tempted to see what caught her eye, but kept his focus on her.
“Are you here on official business?” Helda asked.
“I’m always on official business,” he said. Maybe she’d appreciate it that he started taking his work seriously.
“Even in Brinder?”
Finn shrugged. “I represent the king and his justice. I might not always have an active investigation, but Master Meyer has instructed me to remember how I’m viewed when I’m out in the city.”
It wasn’t quite like that. Meyer didn’t want Finn to do anything that would dishonor him, though Finn didn’t intend to. Now that he didn’t even have a crew to go back to—and having seen Oscar, it had become quite clear that he didn’t—Finn had already been fully invested in his apprenticeship, but that had only made it clearer to him.
“I see.” She started to turn.
Finn knew he needed to say something to her to keep her from walking away. “Helda—”
She turned back to him, frowning.
“Now that Lena has moved in with Master Meyer, and I’m working with him”—her eyes nar
rowed slightly—“maybe the two of us could talk?”
He didn’t know why he felt so awkward with her when he hadn’t around Annie’s girls.
Helda’s eyes softened slightly. “I would be open to that.”
Finn licked his lips and swallowed. “I haven’t always been the best to Lena, but I want to help. Her and my mother. I’m doing it the only way I can.”
She watched him for a moment. “Have you told her that?”
“Who? Lena? I’m sure she knows.”
“You might be surprised.” She looked back the way she’d come. She held his gaze, and smiled slightly. “May Heleth bless you, Finn.”
He nodded as she turned and headed along the street. Finn watched her walk away before shaking his head. It was time to get back to work.
Chapter Ten
The stench of the fire had faded somewhat, though it still lingered in the air. Finn stood at one end of the street, arms crossed over his chest, surveying the damage. There were more people out today, although rather than sorting through the remains, many had started to load the burned sections of buildings into carts to carry away from the city. It wouldn’t be long before the Jorend section was rebuilt. Given a lack of space in the city, there was every reason for it to be built quickly.
Two men were loading items onto a cart. Unlike in other parts of the street, where they were loading damaged sections of walls, these men loaded the remains of a home into a cart. Most of it was burned, but that didn’t seem to matter to them. They carried it and loaded it carefully into the cart, almost delicately.
Finn approached and watched them work. They were quiet, though he had a sense of disappointment from both of them. One of them was older and balding, and the sun had tanned his forearms and face. He had a graying beard that had been stained by soot from the remains of the fire. The other was younger, of a similar build, and shared features with the older man. He had darker hair, deep brown eyes that glanced over to Finn as they worked, and a quiet intensity about him.
“What do you want?” the younger of the two asked.
“I take it you live here?”
“Lived. We don’t live here any longer.” He wiped an arm across his brow, glancing up at the sun before turning his attention to Finn and squinting. “Not too many people can live here now. At least on this street. Are you one of the investors?”
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