by Jade Mere
Tahki heard Zinc’s boots click forward. His saliva tasted heavy, and his nose filled with the scent of sweat and blood. The room spun as his hand flailed around for something, anything, that might deflect Zinc. His fingers touched something hard and smooth: a hammer. It didn’t have much weight to it, but the end came to a sharp tip. Zinc closed in and grabbed Tahki’s shoulder. Before the man could attack again, Tahki heaved the hammer with all his force. He wanted to hit Zinc’s face, but his aim was low, and the hammer stuck into Zinc’s shoulder instead.
Zinc let out a surprised yelp and stumbled back. “Fucking little shit!”
Tahki kicked him in the stomach. Zinc tumbled back into a pile of crates, and Tahki ran through the curtain. He sprinted beyond the tables, past the men and women at the counter. He ran out the door, down the dark tunnel. His legs cried, and his head felt like a dull weight on his shoulders. It was only after he made it outside, down the cobblestone road, fetched his gingoat—or someone’s gingoat, they all looked alike—and was galloping down the dirt road toward the castle, that he started to cry.
Chapter 9
THE HUMILIATION burned worse than his jaw. He felt like a fool. A failure. A child. Nothing had gone right since coming here. He wiped his face with his coat sleeve. He’d cried for a while, replayed the incident that had occurred, tried to figure out where it had all gone wrong. He had no idea how to explain himself to Dyraien. He remembered the conversation he’d had with his father before he’d run away, when he’d claimed to be an adult and his father had said he’d seen no proof of that. Going to Zinc’s alone hadn’t been an adult decision. It had been a childish one.
He needed help.
His first impulse was to find Gale, but she’d already risked so much for him. If she found out he’d lost all Dyraien’s money and the order details, she’d do more than hit him over the head with a dead fish.
He arrived back at the castle around midday, untacked his gingoat—who he was pretty sure was male and not the female he’d ridden over—and put it in the stables. When he entered the castle, he touched his face and winced. Blood crusted the edge of his mouth, and the scabs tore painfully when he moved his jaw. He wanted to go to his room to clean it off, but he heard a scraping noise coming from his left. He followed the noise; wood sanding, it sounded like. The sound led him to one of the larger rooms. When he stepped inside, wood dust filled his nose.
Rye worked with his back to him, sanding what appeared to be the underside of a boat. Schematics of boat designs were scattered across the floor. Tahki recognized a few models. They had been displayed in one of the rooms at the fair. He didn’t know a lot about boats, but these designs, with their narrow hulls, looked fast.
For a moment, all he wanted to do was watch Rye work. He looked so content.
A flake of wood dust caught in Tahki’s throat and he coughed.
Rye glanced up. “Where have you—” He did a double take and dropped his sanding block. “What in the hells happened to you?” Rye was beside him. He looked Tahki up and down, his mouth parted slightly, brow furrowed.
Tahki swallowed the knot in his throat. He felt his legs go weak right above the knee, but he refused to collapse. He wouldn’t give Zinc the satisfaction.
“I did something wrong,” Tahki whispered.
Rye rubbed his mouth and looked around. “Let’s stop the bleeding, and then you can tell me.” He led him to a room at the left of the staircase. Dyraien hadn’t shown Tahki this place before. The room tucked beneath the staircase and the second floor, giving the area a spacious feel on one end and a cozy feel on the other where the ceiling slanted. The walls were lined with bookcases and brass nautical instruments. Maps of the Calaridian Sea hung on the walls. Dust floated across a pale ray of light let in through an east-facing window.
Tahki felt his body gently pushed onto a wide bed. The sheets had been tucked with precision. Likewise, the entire room looked neat and orderly, aside from the dust. He filled his mouth with air tasting of linseed oil, brass polish, and coffee.
He was in Rye’s room.
Rye opened a cabinet and took out what looked like medical supplies: bandages, rags, vials of various green plants, a clear substance in a jar. He laid them beside Tahki on the bed and hunched down in front of him. “Are you in pain?”
Tahki composed himself. He didn’t want to break down in front of Rye. He’d cried long enough.
“I’m fine.” His jaw throbbed, his legs cried with every movement, the cuts on his body pulsated as blood clotted.
“Tahki.” Rye held Tahki’s chin up. “Are you in pain?”
Tahki nodded.
Rye fetched two green pills from a cabinet above his bed and handed them to Tahki. “These might make you a little drowsy and light-headed.” Then he fetched a glass of water. Tahki swallowed the entire glass in three gulps, then let out a long breath. He picked up the bandages and tried to wrap his arm. His fingers felt swollen from gripping the gingoat’s reins.
“Are you going to tell me why it looks like someone tried to make dog food out of my lead architect?” Rye said.
Tahki fumbled with the bandages. They wouldn’t stay in place.
Rye took them gently from his hands and unwound them. “Take off your shirt,” Rye said. He said it so casually, but Tahki felt too tired to blush. He slid his shirt over his head and cringed as it scraped open the cuts on his stomach. He rested his head against Rye’s pillow. It felt firm and smelled like him. Rye took a rag and started to clean the blood from his body. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
Tahki stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know where to start.” He should have been embarrassed, excited, terrified to be in Rye’s bed with his shirt off, but his mind didn’t seem to want to acknowledge the fact. It didn’t seem to want to acknowledge anything. A pleasant haze settled over him, like the fog outside had drifted into the room.
“You weren’t at breakfast this morning,” Rye said as he dabbed a rag against Tahki’s stomach. His hands were rough from working with stone and wood, but also careful, methodical. “Where were you?”
Tahki blinked and took a deep breath. “I was at Gale’s.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to borrow some tea.”
“Did anything happen at Gale’s?”
“No. Yes. Dyraien stopped by. He dropped off order details.”
“Order details?”
“He needed minerals ordered in Edgewater.”
“And?”
“And he asked Gale to order them.” His eyes found Rye’s face. Concern pressed into the crook of Rye’s brow, into the slight downward slant of his mouth. “I went to Edgewater to fill the order for her.” He told Rye about his encounter with Zinc, how he lost the money, how Zinc hurt him.
Rye sat beside him after tucking the supplies back in the cabinet. Tahki looked down at the white, bloodstained bandages around his body. He pressed one finger down on his stomach and watched as a bloom of blood appeared around the indent.
Rye pulled his hand away and held on to it. “Are you sure it was Zinc?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you, but Zinc would never cross Dyraien. He’s a bastard with sick tastes, and I wish Dyraien wouldn’t do business with him, but Zinc’s known him longer than I have. It just doesn’t make sense he’d scam you. It doesn’t make sense Dyraien would send Gale, either. Dyraien insists on ordering the materials himself.”
Tahki watched Rye’s mouth. His lips formed each syllable with such perfection. Everything about Rye was so exact, so measured. If Rye had gone to Edgewater, Zinc wouldn’t have dared cross him.
“Dyraien’s going to kill me,” Tahki whispered.
“We’re not telling Dyraien anything. Not yet.”
Tahki rocked his body back and forth until he managed to pull himself upright. The pain numbed, but he still felt tired. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to pay Zinc a visit.” Rye dropped Tahki’s hand and
stood. There was anger in his voice. A kind of restrained rage Tahki had never heard in him before. It sounded like Rye took it personally, as though he had been the one who’d been scammed.
Tahki grabbed Rye’s arm. His skin felt smooth and firm. The muscles beneath tensed. “I’m going with you.”
Rye carefully pushed him away. “You need to rest. Just tell me where the gambling house is.”
Tahki stood, wobbled, steadied himself. “This is my mistake, Rye. I want to fix it.” He couldn’t let him go alone. If anything happened to Rye, he didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself. Not that he’d be much help, but the idea of waiting here for the next six hours for Rye to travel there and back seemed unbearable.
Rye studied him. His eyes moved over his injuries. “You’re bleeding from all ends and you still won’t listen to me.”
Tahki straightened his back, the painkillers giving him false strength. “But this is different. I’m not being stubborn because of pride. I want to go because I want to help make things right. I know I can’t do it on my own, but I can’t let you go alone, either. If anything happened to you, I’d—” Tahki stopped himself. The drugs had loosened his tongue, and he was afraid of what he’d almost confessed. “I’d… I’d feel very bad. Besides, you need me to show you where the gambling house is.”
Irritation settled in Rye’s eyes, but after a moment, he relaxed a little. “Fine, you can come. But promise me you’ll leave at the first sign of trouble.”
TAHKI LEANED his head against Rye’s back as they rode. He felt Rye’s shoulder blades roll in and out as he steered the gingoat. Tahki must have dozed, because they’d only just left when the smell of fish woke him. His damp hair fell against Rye’s back. He watched it swish across the dark leather a moment and then jerked his head up. His hands were wrapped around Rye’s waist. He loosened his grip.
“You awake?” Rye said.
“I think.” His mind still felt a little hazy. “Where are we?”
“We’re almost to Edgewater. You’re sure you can find the gambling house again?”
Tahki craned his head forward. “Yes, I can find it again. So, you’ve never been there?”
“No. Like I said, Dyraien always handles that stuff. He’s very particular about it, and I avoid Edgewater when I can.”
“Why?”
“It’s just a bad town.”
Tahki rubbed sleep from his eyes. He bumped one of the bandages on his face, but the cut beneath didn’t bleed. Rye had wrapped and cleaned it well. “Why do you think Dyraien wanted Gale to deliver the order this time?”
Rye shrugged. “I’m more interested in why you went in her place.”
Tahki shifted in the saddle. “After what happened the other day, I thought Dyraien thought I was incompetent. Like one mistake and he couldn’t trust me. Ordering the minerals seemed like a good way to prove to him I wasn’t worthless.”
Rye slowed the gingoat. “Everyone makes mistakes. That doesn’t mean you’re worthless.” He hesitated and then said, “You don’t have to try so hard. You’ve got a gift. Don’t spoil it by overthinking and rushing ahead.”
Before Tahki could reply, Rye tugged the animal to a halt. The town didn’t appear as unfriendly as it had before. They’d entered a different area, avoiding the brothel and fish market. Shop owners sold stands of buttered bread; a woman who owned a smaller pistol shop helped a young man shoot a gun; a red dog ran beside a boy in the street.
Rye dismounted and then helped Tahki down. Tahki held his breath as Rye gripped him.
“How’s the pain?” Rye said.
Tahki almost said fine but stopped. Rye was right. He didn’t need to try so hard to prove himself. “The pain isn’t crippling, but it isn’t comfortable, either.”
Rye nodded, reached into his bag, and gave him two more pills. Tahki popped them in his mouth as Rye tethered the gingoat. Once the animal was tied, Rye pulled a sheathed hunting knife from the saddlebag and secured it to his hip. The sight of the knife sobered Tahki. He’d never seen Rye with a weapon before.
“You don’t have to do this. Really,” Tahki said. “I’ll take the blame. If Dyraien doesn’t want me working for him anymore, I can find a job someplace else.” The words came easier than expected. The thought of losing his job scared him, but seeing Rye with that knife sent a wave of panic coursing so fiercely through his body that for a moment he genuinely didn’t care if Dyraien fired him.
“People like Zinc are a lot like eastern jungle cats,” Rye said. “Make yourself appear bigger and stronger, and they’ll go tails-tucked back into the trees.”
Tahki started to protest, but Rye moved quickly toward the town.
When they reached the underground tunnels, Tahki shivered.
“You sure you want to come with me?” Rye asked.
Tahki reached up and knocked on the door. The woman in red answered. She looked at Rye and gave him a seductive smile, but when her eyes landed on Tahki, she frowned and said, “Something I can do for you gentlemen?”
“Where’s Zinc?” Rye said. Tahki could hear the anger clenched between his teeth.
The woman pursed her lips. “Probably stuck between the legs of some whore.”
Rye shoved her aside and strode into the smoke-filled room. He walked to the nearest table and scooped up a handful of flickering lightning roots. Then he unlatched the knife from his side and sliced them open. They popped and bubbled, pink and blue light from inside draining onto the table, hissing and smoking as it touched the wood. The couple at the table jumped back.
“Are you out of your damn mind?” the woman in red said.
Tahki reached Rye’s side and cringed. Lightning roots were highly toxic when cut open, which was why they’d been banned in most countries. If enough raw liquid hit the open air, a person could be poisoned from inhaling it. A root’s outer case was thick, so leaks didn’t happen often, but a sharp blade could puncture it. Rye held them with his bare hands like a bouquet of flowers, and then released the empty casings, reaching for a fresh handful.
“I’d hate for you to shut down your establishment due to air contamination,” Rye said. “How much money do you suppose you’d lose? I hear it takes a month to properly cleanse the air and soil after a root leak.”
“Now, now, let’s all just calm down,” said a slow, rough voice. Tahki turned and saw Zinc standing a few feet away. “Any friend of D’s is always a welcomed guest here.”
Rye let the roots fall. “Is this how you treat a friend of Dyraien’s?” He gestured to Tahki.
“Not sure what the kid told you,” Zinc said. “But it’s your word over mine, and D and I were friends long before you entered the picture.”
Rye stepped forward so he stood face-to-face with Zinc. “Dyraien isn’t here now. It’s just me, and I believe Tahki.”
Tahki’s heart palpitated. Rye looked strong, but could he take Zinc in a fight? The other man probably had no qualms about fighting dirty, and the sober-looking men and woman in the house had already formed a kind of lopsided circle around the two of them. Rye’s knife hung visibly by his side, but he didn’t reach for it.
Zinc rubbed his jaw. “Never understood what D saw in you. I told him long ago to drown you in the river. It’s the proper way to dispose of a stray.”
“You have your money,” Rye said. “Now fill the order.”
Zinc glanced to Tahki.
“Don’t look at him,” Rye said.
Zinc laughed. “You know, D said you never went to brothels. I always assumed you were some kind of eunuch. But I guess it wasn’t about the parts a person had, it was about the color of skin.”
“The order, Zinc. Fill it.”
And then Zinc took a step back, put up his hands, and nodded. Tahki watched, surprised, because Zinc had no reason to back down.
“All right, calm down,” Zinc said. “I’ll fill the order.” He snapped his fingers, and the woman in red came to his side. He nodded to her, and she vanished behind the curtain, re
appearing a moment later with the order list. Zinc snatched the list and wrote something on the paper.
“Done,” Zinc said.
The men and women around them returned to their tables.
Rye relaxed his shoulders. “Let’s go,” he said to Tahki.
Tahki turned, happy to leave. Before they made it outside, Zinc called, “Better stay close to that bodyguard of yours, kid.” Tahki glanced back. Zinc grinned at him. “He ain’t always gonna be around.”
Rye grabbed Tahki’s wrist and hurried him along. They made it outside, through the tunnels, and back to the gingoat before any words were exchanged.
“I didn’t think he’d actually agree,” Rye said.
“Then why’d you threaten him?”
He faced Tahki. “Because I couldn’t let him get away with what he did to you.”
Tahki felt himself blush and pretended to look at the sky. “Why do you think Zinc gave up without a fight?”
“I guess he realized Dyraien would find out and didn’t want the trouble,” Rye said.
Again, something didn’t feel right. Though he could have easily overpowered them, Zinc seemed to fear Rye. Or maybe it hadn’t been Rye who’d spooked him. Maybe it had something to do with how Dyraien would react if anything happened to Rye. But Tahki was too tired to think about it.
“Rye?”
“What?”
Tahki rubbed his wrist. “Thank you.”
Rye shrugged. “It felt good to take Zinc down a peg.”
“I don’t mean only with Zinc,” Tahki said. “Thank you for taking the fall for my design error. For getting me on the right path with my architecture. For watching out for me.” It might be the painkillers, but his words, for the first time, sounded sincere.
This time it was Rye who blushed. He turned stiffly away. “We should get back to the castle before we’re missed.”
Tahki nodded. “Agreed.”
Chapter 10