Idiot, I thought as I rushed after him. Idiot me for not giving Fowler a sign to keep quiet; idiot him for leaving the barbershop. There are very few places we Kin will not happily kill one another, but a barber’s place of business is one of them. It’s as close as our kind comes to giving sanctuary. The truce between the Kin and the Sisterhood of Barbers had been in force for almost one hundred and eighty years-ever since the Seven Months of the Razor, just after Isidore’s death-and I wasn’t about to break it for Baldezar, no matter how badly I wanted him. If he had stayed in the shop, I couldn’t have touched him, but as soon as he hit the street…
I cursed almost continually as I dodged and shoved my way through the press of bodies. I could make out the back of Baldezar’s head now and then, bobbing above the crowd even as mine stayed well below it.
He took his first right, then a quick left. I stayed with him and even began to close the distance. Baldezar might have the longer stride, but I could duck through the gaps in the crowd more easily. I allowed myself a feral smile. All I needed to do was keep pace. He was a scribe-how far could he run?
As it turned out, farther than I would have liked. Maybe it was all the stairs I’d just run with Fowler; maybe I was pushing too hard; or maybe Jelem’s glimmer hadn’t finished its job yet; regardless, by the time Baldezar began to show signs of wearing down, my left leg was stiffening up. I gritted my teeth and tried to keep pace. It only made things worse. Baldezar nearly fell as he turned onto an empty side street, but, try as I might, I couldn’t take advantage of it. He might be weaving and stumbling like a drunk, but it was still better than the old soldier’s limp I was forced to imitate.
That was when Fowler sprinted past me, arms pumping, hat jammed down firmly on her head, hair flying out from beneath it. I don’t know how fast she was running, but, to me at that moment, it looked as if she could have given the wind a good race. I slowed further and admired the fit of her leggings as she closed on Baldezar.
When she came up behind him, she didn’t waste time or effort. No tackling; no forcing him into a wall; no trying to trip him-Fowler simply drew her long knife and hamstrung the scribe with one smooth slash.
He went down on the pavement, hard and screaming.
I immediately picked up my pace again. The street we were on was narrow, with little traffic and few doors opening on it. What doors I did see were large, solid, ornate, and set into high walls. There was money here. That meant blood wasn’t usually spilled on these paving stones, and when it was, the Watch didn’t waste time getting here. This needed to be kept short.
Fowler was kneeling next to Baldezar as I hobbled up. He was doubled up on the cobbles, grabbing at his left leg and gasping through clenched teeth. There was blood coming out of his nose where it had smashed into the street, and he had a deep scrape on his chin and along the right side of his jaw. He had, however, stopped screaming. I chalked that last bit up to Fowler’s threatening worse if he didn’t shut up.
“This is all he had on him,” said Fowler as she stood up. She handed me a knife and a small pouch of money, then glanced back down at Baldezar. “I hope you didn’t need him whole.”
“Just talkative,” I said. I moved so Baldezar could see me standing over him. I liked to think it wasn’t solely pain and blood loss that made him go pale.
“Go watch for Rags,” I told Fowler.
“But-”
“Go.”
Fowler muttered and cursed, but she went. As she did, I noticed at least three different heads poking out of windows set high in the walls. They vanished quickly.
“All right,” I said, “I don’t have time to do this how I’d like, so I’ll give you a choice: Cooperate and I’ll leave you for the Watch to find. Be difficult, and they’ll trip over your corpse. Decide.”
Baldezar opened his mouth, coughed, and turned his head to spit. Blood-tinted mucus came out, along with a tooth. “Drothe,” he said, the side of his face still lying on the paving stones, “you have to understand, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just-”
“Corpse it is,” I said as I drew my rapier.
“No, wait!” Baldezar held out a bloody hand. “What do you want to know?”
I showed my teeth in a manner too nasty to be called a smile. “Smart man,” I said. “Start with the Blades and the forged letter from Baroness Sephada.”
“That wasn’t my idea.”
“Of course not.” I drew my rapier back for the thrust.
“No, listen!” Baldezar pushed himself up on his elbow. “When you came to my shop, I thought you were there for the letter I was copying for the baroness. When you showed me Athel’s cipher instead, I panicked. I didn’t know how you’d gotten ahold of it, if Athel was alive or dead, or how you were involved.” Baldezar glowered. “All I did know was that you were toying with me, trying to make me nervous so I’d talk. I’m not stupid.”
I forced my face to remain impassive even as what he was telling me sank in. Stupid? Baldezar had been too clever by half. He’d read more into our conversation than I’d had an inkling about. He’d been in on what was happening from the beginning, and I’d missed it completely! If anyone was stupid here, it was me.
“Then you came in with the forged letter,” said Baldezar, interpreting my silence as agreement, “and I thought I was dead. I still don’t know why you let me live, but I knew better than to give you a third chance. I was in over my head, so I ran.”
“What about Lyconnis?” I said. “Were you just going to leave him for me in case I decided he was involved?”
Baldezar looked away and said nothing.
“The proud and mighty guild master,” I said, “watching over his charges with courage and diligence.”
Baldezar stayed silent.
“So what happened after I left your shop the first time?” I said.
“I went to see Ironius. He wasn’t happy at the news.”
I chuckled. “I’ll bet.” Ironius must have figured my visit meant I knew what was going on in Ten Ways-especially with Baldezar leaping to conclusions for him. And if I knew, then it followed that Nicco knew, too-or would, once I told him. Except I never had.
“So whose idea was it to put the Blade on me?” I said. “Yours?”
“No!” said Baldezar. “No. The plan was to lure you away and grab you. It wasn’t until Fedim turned up dead and the book vanished that the decision was made to kill you.”
He was lying, of course. Whether Ironius had wanted to talk to me or not, I would have ended up dustmans in the end. Sylos’s message had confirmed as much. Besides, I couldn’t see Baldezar forging Christiana’s letter unless he thought I wasn’t coming back from the appointment.
A sharp whistle interrupted my musings. I looked over my shoulder to see Fowler trotting toward us.
“Rags,” she called out. “Five blocks and closing.”
“How-” I began, but let the question go. This was Fowler; if anyone could recruit and organize a team of street urchins and beggars to watch our blinds on a moment’s notice, it was her.
“Tell me when they’re two blocks away,” I shouted back.
Fowler nodded and went back the way she’d come.
I turned back to Baldezar. He was smiling. I showed my teeth again.
“Don’t get cocky,” I said. “There’s still plenty of time for you to die.”
It had all been premised on a mistake. Baldezar had panicked and leapt to the wrong conclusion, and then fed that conclusion to Ironius. They had sent Tamas, whom I had killed, which made things look even worse. From that point on, everything I had done-showing up at Fedim’s shop, my growing interest in Ten Ways, turning up in Rambles’s attic, the death of the second Blade-reinforced their initial conclusions. To them, I must have seemed one step ahead, always turning up or slipping away at the worst possible time, when in reality I was stumbling from one clue to another without knowing it.
And all because I hadn’t been straight with Baldezar about why I was interested i
n Athel’s slip of paper.
I couldn’t help myself; I began to laugh. It was too ridiculous not to. I looked down and saw Baldezar’s panic-stricken face, heard him babbling about it being a misunderstanding, and laughed even harder. Angels, but it hurt!
I dropped to one knee, gasping. The laughter finally trickled away, leaving an ache in my side to keep the one in my leg company. I felt drained, but strangely relaxed.
Baldezar was staring at me. Fear had been replaced by understanding on his face, and that was quickly giving way to disgust.
“You didn’t know any of this before I told you, did you?” he said. “Not one part.”
“No,” I said.
He blinked. “You mean I…”
“Made it worse?” I said. He flinched, and I have to admit I enjoyed that. “I doubt you could have fouled up more if you tried.” I levered myself to my feet, grunting at the effort. “Ironius is going to have a ball with you when he realizes what you’ve done.”
“Ironius?”
“And his Prince.”
Baldezar’s face paled. “Prince? As in, Gray Prince?”
I smiled. “See, you didn’t know everything after all.”
“Drothe!” Baldezar’s words came out quickly, tumbling over one another in his haste to get them out. “I didn’t know there was a Prince involved,” he said. “I swear it! Please, you have to-”
Another whistle. We both looked down the street.
Fowler was running toward us. “Rags a little less than three blocks away and coming fast!” she yelled. “Must be at least a half dozen of them.”
I turned back to Baldezar. “They won’t bother you if you tell them we jumped you.” I grinned. “Good luck with Ironius and the Prince.”
“Wait!” he yelled. “Take me with you! I can tell you about the book.”
I turned back just as Fowler came pounding up beside me.
“Tell me what?” I said.
“Take me with and I’ll tell you.”
I glanced at Fowler. She had her hand on her knees and was breathing heavy. “Are you on smoke?” she said in answer to my look. “I can’t carry him alone, and you’re having trouble fucking walking.” She spit. “No way. We have to go. Now.”
I turned back to Baldezar. “Tell me,” I said, “and none of this gets back to Ironius.”
“I need more.”
“After what you just confessed to, you’re lucky to be getting that much!” I said. “I should dust you and let the Rags clean up the mess.”
Baldezar licked his lips and glanced down the alley, then back to me. “Make me your man,” he said.
“What?” Fowler and I said at the same time.
“Take me under you,” he said in a rush. “Be my boss and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Your boss?” I said. “I’m no Baldober. Hell, I don’t even have an organization!”
“Then start one with me,” said Baldezar. “If you take me on, you have to protect me. You can’t dust me without cause, and I can’t betray you without knowing I’ll be killed in turn.”
I almost laughed at his naivete. “You don’t know much about how the Kin work, do you?”
“I know you,” said Baldezar. “That’s enough.”
I stared at him while Fowler danced from foot to foot. She was staring down the alley.
“Drothe… ” she began.
“Shut the fuck up,” I said. Protection? My protection? I hadn’t even been able to protect Eppyris and his family, and now Baldezar wanted me to watch over him? With what? I didn’t have anything to offer.
Then again, did any Kin? Given the nature of our business, our lives, who were we to pretend to any kind of certainty? At best, we were lucky to fend for ourselves. And yet, that hadn’t stopped me from staying secretly loyal to Kells for years, never mind invoking Nicco’s name as a shield against the people in his organization. I was a Long Nose-if anyone knew about being in deep without any real support, it was me. Still, I had to admit that having that partial sense of protection had helped, and that I missed it now.
I reached my hand out, hesitated, and then finished the gesture. Baldezar took it in an awkward Clasp. And just like that, he was mine.
“We can do the pretty words later,” I said. “Just talk.”
“I don’t know precisely what’s in the book,” Baldezar said, “but I know part of it deals with magic.”
“I know,” I said.
“Imperial magic.”
“Know that, too.”
Baldezar blinked in surprise. “So you know about the emperor, too?”
I let go of his arm. “What about the emperor?”
“From what I gathered, they plan on using the magic against him.”
“Against him?” I said.
“Him, or the empire,” said Baldezar. “It wasn’t clear, but I managed to piece it together from bits of conversation Ironius let slip.”
“Angels fuck me,” muttered Fowler.
I took a step toward Baldezar, half in shock. “What are they-”
Fowler caught my arm. “There’s no time,” she hissed. “Listen!”
I did. I could hear shouts and yelling in the distance. It was getting closer. Rags.
“Damn,” I said. I leaned down and handed Baldezar a small packet from my herb wallet. “Deer berries,” I said. “They’ll numb the pain.”
Baldezar looked at the packet dubiously, then at me. “I don’t think-” he began.
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead,” I snapped. “I’m not about to waste time poisoning you.”
Baldezar looked at the packet again and nodded.
“Very touching,” said Fowler as she grabbed my arm. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here before we all have a real reason to cry.”
I let her hustle me down the street and around a corner. Behind us, I could hear Baldezar begin shouting for help. He was calling out to the approaching Rags, begging for someone to stop and help him.
“Think they’ll let him live?” Fowler asked as we turned another corner.
“He’s a scribe and a guild master,” I said. “They have no reason not to.”
“What about us?” she said. I didn’t have to ask to know she was referring to the revelation about Ironius’s plans for the journal.
“There’s no ‘us,’ ” I said. “You didn’t hear anything.”
“Drothe…”
“Get your ass back and watch the apothecary’s family until this is over,” I said.
“What about you?”
“I’m a Nose,” I said. “When I hear dangerous things I don’t like, I go see my boss.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Kells wasn’t at home. More specifically, he wasn’t in Silver Disc cordon, or any of his other territories. He was in Ten Ways, directing the war against Nicco-personally.
“It’s that bad?” said Degan.
“That’s what I hear,” I said. I had come looking for Degan after failing to see Kells, and had found the Arm playing two-man cabbat at Prospo’s with Jelem. Degan was, of course, losing.
“And you need to see him right now?” said Degan.
“I do.” Kells was the kind of Upright Man who worked best from the shadows, pulling strings and spinning plans; that he had taken to the streets, let alone the front lines, didn’t bode well for our side.
Degan sighed and tossed his cards on the table. “Just when I was ready to make a comeback, too.”
“Yes, of course you were,” said Jelem as he raked the small pile of coins from the center of the table toward himself. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to Drothe for saving me from my imminent… defeat.”
“Business comes first,” I said.
“Funny how your ‘business’ keeps interfering with my profits,” observed Jelem, stacking his coins. “Especially since I’m still owed monies for working on a certain rope.”
I stood up straighter. “I don’t recall a whole lot of return on that yet,” I
said.
“Ah, as to that…” Jelem moved his glittering stacks aside and set his elbows on the table. “Give me six strands of your hair.”
“What?”
Jelem snapped his fingers. “Just do it,” he said, “before anyone comes wandering by.”
I reached up and began plucking.
“Make sure they’re long,” said Jelem as he reached into the folds of his robe and came out with a length of knotted rope. Tamas’s rope-no, I realized, Task’s rope; there weren’t any burned knots on this one.
“Watch for anyone who might notice us,” he said as he took the hairs from me and carefully draped them in his lap.
“What are you doing?” I said.
“Keying the magic in this rope to you, of course.”
“ ‘Keying’ it?” I said. “I haven’t used a lot of portable glimmer in the past, but what I have used has never been ‘keyed’ to anything.”
“That’s because whatever you used was either harmless, or something you could physically control or avoid once it was activated. This is a rope. It bends and twists and wraps around things. The runes in it are activated when they strike someone. If you miss that someone, it’s entirely possible it could swing back around and hit you. Unless, of course, you’d rather run the risk of knocking yourself unconscious with your own glimmer?”
“Keying it to me will be fine,” I said.
I watched as Jelem plucked up a single hair and tied it around the first knot in an elaborate pattern. He began muttering to himself and making small pulling actions in the air.
Degan and I took up positions on either side of the table, settling into the casual slouch that is second nature to Kin who are keeping an eye out for something. I waved Cecil off when he came to see if we needed new drinks, while Degan placed himself between the street and the table whenever anyone walked past.
At last, the sounds stopped, and Jelem cleared his throat.
I turned around to find him sitting back in his chair, the rope coiled in his lap.
“It’s done?” I said.
“It’s done,” said Jelem.
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