“Ice,” I said. “Icy.” He cocked an eyebrow, squinting at me sideways. “Bald…y.”
That got a quiet laugh from him. “Taumir,” he said, and closed his eyes. “Means Shade.”
I giggled. Didn’t mean to, it just popped out.
“Is it funny?” he asked, sounding a bit tetchy.
“Nope. It’s perfect. Just…are you trying to sound spooky and dangerous, or is that just how you are?”
He made a short noise like a snort and didn’t answer.
“Tamer?”
He kind of glared at me. “Taumir.” Then, slow and deliberate, like maybe I couldn’t hear too well, “Taw-meer.”
“What sort of language is that?”
“Mine.” He dropped his gaze and flicked his fingers again. “Or it was.”
“You got somewhere to stay?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.” I sat back on my heels, scowling at him. “Dan’ talk so much. You’re giving me a headache.”
His mouth twitched, and I grinned at my victory.
“What’s your story, Hayli?” he asked suddenly. “Why’re you out in this damned rain?”
“You must not be from hereabouts,” I said. “We’re all used to the rain.”
“I’m sorry.”
I waited for another minute. The rain perked up, hearing itself talked about, and turned icy cold, and the wind took to howling in the alley corners. The boy, Shade, pulled his knees in closer.
“You sure you’ve got a place?” I asked. “Because I was ganna say you could come back my way if you like.”
Kantian had never told me I couldn’t recruit folks on my own. I never imagined we had endless food stores or jobs, but…surely he wouldn’t mind just one more. And a mage at that.
The thought jumped out on my tongue. “You’re a mage?”
He opened his eyes and fixed me a gaze as stern as Derrin’s. “What gave you that idea?” he asked. It came out a growl, but I caught a flicker of humor in there—dark, bitter humor.
“You’re a Mask, right?” I asked, gesturing at my own face. “I’ve never known any Masks.”
“What about you?”
I froze up. “What about me?”
He tipped his head, giving me a look like rebuke. “You’re a mage too.”
“I’m not—” I started, but he just raised an eyebrow, so I sighed and said, “How you ken?”
“I’m smart like that,” he said dryly, making me smile.
“I’m a Moth.”
“What are you, a cat?”
I laughed. “I wish.”
But I didn’t tell him what my animal nature was. I still couldn’t get a gauge on him. Couldn’t tell if I ought to trust him. I wanted to, somehow, but a lifetime on the streets had left its mark on me.
“What’re you doing here in Brinmark?” I asked.
“Do you ever stop asking questions?”
I grinned. “When I know what I want to know.”
“God help me,” he said.
“Are you an assassin?”
He jumped a little. I couldn’t tell from how he squinted at me if he thought I was right, or crazy.
But he just said, “No.”
“Thug? Rebel?”
He straightened up, getting that sharp, thin look in his storm-grey eyes again. “I’m looking for someone. Once we’ve had our words, I’m gone.”
I pushed myself to my feet. “Shame. We could’ve used someone like you.” I hesitated. “Well, good luck.”
That got him a bit baffled, which was kind of what I’d hoped for. He hauled himself upright, pulling on the door frame for support. The way his face turned so grey I feared he might be about to conk. I reached a hand toward him, but he stumbled back, glaring ice at me.
“Don’t touch me,” he said.
“A’right,” I snapped, cheeks flaring. “Just trying to help.”
He stood, head bent, all drenched in the rain. I got the sense he had some kind of inner battle going on, so I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to get it sorted.
Finally he glanced at me and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, and turned and walked away.
“Wait!”
He didn’t. Another minute and he’d slipped off down an alley, and by the time I got stirred enough to run after him, he’d disappeared completely.
Chapter 3 — Tarik
“I have a problem,” I announced to Kor when I found him back in the storefront.
He tipped his hat back and scowled up at me. He was lying flat on the floor, his head on my traveling case, and the way he looked so cross, I wondered if he’d been asleep. I rather didn’t care.
“Wake me up again and you’ll definitely have one.”
I dropped to a crouch in my corner, rubbing my hands. Kor waited, but I didn’t say anything else.
“All right,” he said, giving in sooner than I expected. “What happened? I leave you on your own for one day—one day—and you’re already in trouble?”
“I met a girl.”
“Oh, hell,” he said.
“Not like that. I’ve met her before. As…myself.”
He eyed me skeptically. “Didn’t know slum dolls were your type.”
“Shut up and listen. The first time, we just bumped into each other. Literally. And I took her hand to help her up.”
He froze, barely, then sat up and swung around to face me. “And…?” he asked, so low and wary that I knew he could guess what was coming.
“She’s a Jixy.”
“Did she—”
“No,” I said. “Didn’t recognize it a bit.”
“What’s the problem then?”
“She almost touched me today. If she had…”
He waved to cut me off, then fished a pewter flask from his coat pocket and handed it across to me. I took a few sips of the liquid—whiskey, by the taste of it—and passed it back. For a while the silence held fast, all but the tap of rain leaking through the roof somewhere, and the wind whimpering through the cracks in the wall.
“Look, Tarik. Is she the sort you’d want to cozy up with?”
I shot him a disgusted look. “No.”
“Well then. That’s easy. Don’t touch her.”
“I’ve got a feeling she’s in with the Clan.”
He whistled. “Really? Why?”
“Just a feeling. When I met her on the palace grounds, she kept insisting that she had to be there. I don’t think she just stumbled there by accident. Then she said something today about how ‘they could use someone like me.’”
“I’m guessing you think there’s a connection in there to your little intimacy issue?”
I bristled. “If she belongs to the Clan, she can be my in.”
“Right…”
“Are you really that dense?” I asked, slamming my hands on my thighs. “If I have to be friendly with her to get into the Clan, we’ll probably spend a bit of time together. I can’t keep telling her not to touch me.”
“Sure you can.” He smirked. “Tell her you’ve got a terrible plague.”
“I should’ve known not to ask you for advice. Don’t you take anything seriously? Stars, I wish Zagger were here.”
“Well, he’s not. You know what you’ve got to do. So figure it out.”
I glowered and wrapped my arms around my stomach, wishing away the pangs of hunger. Kor stood up abruptly, clapping me on the shoulder.
“How about a fight?”
“No.”
“Your Cashina is getting better, but honestly, you’re still pretty pathetic.” I tried a nasty retort but he rolled right on, “If you want in with the Clan, you better believe you’ll have to prove yourself, even if your girlfriend tries to bring you in. So come on, get up.”
My arms and sides were still battered with bruises from the previous few days’ training, ever since Kor had laughed in my face when I’d asked if we would use Namolo gloves like I was accustomed to. But the pain wasn’t as bad as the cold, and at least a fight
would warm me up, so I groaned and pulled myself to my feet.
* * * *
Kor kicked me awake in the pitch dark of morning before the crawling winter sunrise.
“I’m heading out,” he said.
I grunted and rolled onto my back, muscles aching and teeth chattering. “I don’t give a—”
“I’m telling you this time because I’m going to be gone a while. Maybe a few weeks. Sorry, kid. You really are free on the wing now.”
That drove all the sleep and cold out of me, and I found my feet.
“What for?”
“Can’t say,” he said. “Look, this little job isn’t the only thing the Court’s got me doing. I’ve got other duties. So relax. This is your chance to grow up and be a man for once in your life.”
I narrowed my eyes. Kor was always coarse, and never polite, but there was something else in his voice this morning. Worry, maybe. I couldn’t really tell. But instead of arguing with him as usual, I just shrugged.
“Better get on, then,” I said. He hesitated, then nodded and turned to go. “Oh, Kor,” I called, stopping him. “When you get back, if you want to find me, ask around for Taumir. Or Shade.”
“Taumir?” he asked, interest flickering in his eyes. “You speak Istian?”
“I’m the Crown Prince,” I said, peevish. “Of course I do.”
“Right. Affairs of State school or whatever the hell your father calls it.”
I nodded.
“All right. If by some miracle you get information you need to report while I’m gone, come find me at the palace. If I’m not there they’ll know how to reach me.”
He studied me a moment longer, then tipped his hat with a muttered goodbye and slipped out the door.
I tried to go back to sleep, but after fighting and failing for an hour, I got up and headed out onto the streets. I could try to avoid Hayli for the time being, but I knew I couldn’t just hide in that room for a month waiting for Kor to return. Not the way my stomach kept arguing with me.
For once the rain had stopped, and a little watery sunlight trickled through the holes in a low blanket of cloud. Even the wind had calmed enough to let the morning pretend at being congenial. Funny how a change so small could make such a difference in my outlook. I strode along, feeling as though I could conquer the world if I met it there in the alley, almost letting myself forget about Jixies and cults and assassins. But not quite.
This time I managed to follow Zip’s directions all the way to their end, to a dark, hole-in-the-wall joint that might have been a store or maybe a bar. I studied it carefully, repulsed but infected with that gnawing curiosity that always got me into trouble. Besides the shuttered windows and the stoop railing hanging by a single splintered brace, the whole street around the door breathed a sticky, sickly unpleasant kind of stench. I couldn’t imagine Zip had ever stepped foot inside the place. After a minute’s consideration I decided I never wanted to either, no matter how curious I was. Even I wasn’t that stupid.
“Sweet shop,” I muttered, and picked my way around to the alley behind the storefront.
The largest rubbish bin I’d ever seen slouched against the far wall, spilling its contents into the puddles to make a feast for flies and rats. I peered over the edge, and gagged. Buried in the mounds of garbage I could spot a couple chunks of stale bread, but they were smeared and soaked with something red that looked rather like blood. Jewel-green flies swarmed up around me, protesting my intrusion in a cloud of buzzing stench.
I scanned the rest of the mound of trash, but the bread was the only substance resembling food that I could see. I almost reached in for it, but couldn’t. Couldn’t force myself to do it. I slid down onto the ground with my back to the bin, arms circling my legs and head buried against the wind.
“You found it,” chirped a familiar voice, and I glanced up to find Zip standing beside me. “You’re too late though. Gotta get here early if you want the pickings.”
“So I’m learning,” I said.
Zip grinned and fished inside his shirt, pulling out a half-eaten pastry wrapped in brown paper. “Found it this morning. Want a bite?”
I stared at it, then at the kid. My instinctive grimace never made it all the way to my face. A pastry like that had to be a treasure, and Zip was offering to share. I thought about his father with his purple feet, and my selfishness, keeping my boots and stockings to myself. The kid put me to shame.
“No, you go on and eat it,” I said. “But thanks.”
He grinned and tucked it away. “Course. But I’m saving it for my Pop.”
“Your Pop lives around here?”
“Yeah, but he can’t get out much. His feet’ve gone bad. Can’t walk too much.” His eyes got wide. “Gunny said they might fall clear off!”
And then, I don’t know why, I bent over and unbuckled my boots, pulling them off stockings and all, and dumped them in his arms.
“Hey, I seen these before! That big ol’ tough had ‘em back where I got my cap, isn’t it fine?”
“Yeah,” I said. “They were mine. But go on. Think your Pop needs them more than me. Hopefully it’s not too late.”
“Thanks, mister,” Zip breathed, and he said it with more reverence than most people ever said Your Highness.
“What about you? You warm enough?” I asked, ignoring how my toes had already started prickling with the cold.
“I’m swell.” He shifted his weight, sticking his fingers through the hole in his pocket. “Say, you one of Rivano’s mages?”
“Why?”
“’Cause you asked.”
I frowned, not following.
“You asked if I’m a’right. Street folks dan’ care much. So long as they’re warm, they dan’ care if you’re froze. You even gave up your trompers for my Pop without a beg from me.”
I curled my toes on the wet pavement, fighting a shiver. “That the sort of thing Rivano does?”
“Sure is. When he’s being kind anyway. My Pop says he’s a mean man, though. Won’t gan anywhere near the Hole, we won’t. Nope. But you dan’ seem mean.”
“Thanks, I think,” I said. “I’m not one of Rivano’s. Came looking for him though. I want to see for myself if he’s a mean man.”
“Well, you gotta get past the Meats if you want in.”
“Who’re the Meats?”
“Kantian’s Boss at the Hole, and he keeps some mean toughs to watch the turf. I mean, mean. You stay on the streets much longer, you’re sure to see ‘em. They’re always prowling about.” His gaze drifted past me, and all at once he drew up like a spooked cat. “Like I said,” he whispered and bolted away, fast as fear.
I glanced over my shoulder, and my heart sank. Anuk and Jig stood there at the mouth of the alley with a handful of other kids, looking sore for a fight. My toes had gotten so numb now that I didn’t trust myself to stand. So I just leaned back against the rubbish bin and stared across at them, daring them to come closer, hoping they wouldn’t.
The big red-head Anuk, who I guessed led the little mob, sauntered forward and stopped a few paces from me. The other kids hung back, whispering and grinning.
“You’re in Trip’s turf, so,” Anuk said. “You one of his boys?”
“Don’t belong to anyone,” I answered, closing my eyes to seem unimpressed, and praying he didn’t gut me while he had the chance. “You’re here too. So what does that make you?”
“Interested,” he said, not exactly answering the question. “Never seen you before.”
I opened my eyes and leaned forward, resting my arm on my knee. “Never seen you before either.”
“You’re a mage?”
“I’m looking for Rivano,” I said.
He stiffened, and the other kids stopped smiling. “Who’s asking?”
“Tag’s Taumir,” I said.
“That’s…” Anuk frowned, puzzled. “That’s not a tag, is it?”
“It is where I’m from.”
“Anuk!” one of the kids shouted su
ddenly, a boy who couldn’t have been older than nine or ten, with great big eyes and black hair that stood straight on end like a chimney brush. He ran up to us, saying, “He’s the one Hayli was gabbing about!”
Anuk jerked his gaze from the kid to me. “You met Hayli?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Look, I didn’t come to muck around with a bunch of street flies. D’you know where Rivano is or not?”
Anuk reached down to grab the front of my shirt, but I snatched his wrist and shoved it away, and got to my feet on my own. The bug-eyed kid stared at me, eyes wider than ever.
“No one gets to Rivano if I don’t say he can,” Anuk said. “And I don’t think I’ll say.”
I shifted my weight, hiding a wince. My mind was spinning, calculating my odds fighting him, calculating the advantage of doing so. I knew I’d have to get in with them somehow, and these kids seemed to value toughness more than anything. And while I wished I could just walk away and leave Zagger to intimidate the kids into silence, Zagger wasn’t here, and I couldn’t walk away. I had to fight my own battles now.
“You sure about that?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t sound as unsteady as it felt.
Anuk drew himself up. I had an advantage—I’d seen him fight before. Slow, methodical, unimaginative. The way I used to fight. Still, he was half again as big as me, and probably twice as strong, and getting pounded by him would hurt like the devil no matter how unimaginative he was. For half a moment I considered trying to diffuse the situation, telling him I didn’t want trouble, but… I knew from the fire in his eyes that he’d just laugh me off.
Not the best way to convince him I belonged in his group.
I turned a little aside, then spun and drove the heel of my palm straight at the nexus of his ribs. He doubled over, predictable, shielding his chest. I grabbed his head and shoved it down. Slammed my knee up into his face. As he stumbled, I smashed my foot against his knee and sent him sprawling into the puddles. He groaned and twisted, and stayed down. The bug-eyed kid gaped at me, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Jig circling around toward me.
“Nice moves, like,” he called, raising his hands defensively as he came in close. “Now try me.”
The Madness Project (The Madness Method) Page 17
