Lapis shuffled to the bar, screaming at herself that she should stay upstairs and sleep, but knowing nightmares would plague her if she tried. The crowded, noisy Eaves could hide her pain under a myriad of distractions, if she let it.
Or not. Dachs’s beaming visage went from smiles to gut-punched concern once he beheld her. “What happened?” he asked, hastening over, wiping his hands on a towel. He had the air of a rebel who knew something dreadful occurred, and tiptoeing around the bad news would make it worse.
Her lower lip trembled, and she dug her knuckles into it to make it stop. She planted her elbows on the counter and leaned over, hoping her words did not carry to the nearest customer, who observed them with idle curiosity. “Dentherions got Jarosa. She’s in surgery.”
His face fell into dark sadness. “She gonna make it?”
“Don’t know. She scooped up a shield-breaker and threw it back at the soldiers and got caught in the blast. The rebels risked themselves to get her to a Swift.” She swallowed. “Her second called for help. She said the shield-breaker was a last effort to stop the rebel advance. It didn’t work, and Faelan’s leading a contingent there to join forces and drive the empire from her borders.”
“Shit,” he muttered, his voice dark and heavy. “Never a sprinkle, always a storm.”
“Yeah.”
“Hungry?”
She rubbed at her throat. While she had eaten nothing since the morning meal, food sounded repulsive. “Maybe just tea.” She needed something to drink her pain meds with. The cold-induced ache in her shoulder refused to remain ignored.
Her main reading group clustered around the table, silent, all eyes on her as she flumped down on the bench. Acting was a Lady Lanth gift, but in her present state, she failed to don the cloak of nonchalant chaser. She should have stayed upstairs, wrapped in her blankets and shivering, rather than suffer under the unsubtle prodding the rats used to elicit information.
“Yer not gonna tell us, is you?” Rin asked, arms folded, eyes narrowed. She slid down, rolled her head over, and swallowed the lump in her throat. If it were just him, maybe. Maybe. But not with the younger clustered around; Jarosa’s plight tore apart her insides, and the words to describe it would come out as bleak, irreparable devastation. She refused to have them mourn before the official word spread, because the faint offer of hope Patch provided would die along with their choked denials and tears.
“Ramira asked for help, so Faelan’s answering the call. They have Dentheria on the run, and they want to make sure to kick them harder on the way out.”
“That ain’t it.”
So certain, was he? “No. You all know about LX70?” They nodded. “She’s disappeared and we think she headed back to Jiy. Be careful in the streets.”
They stared at her, she stared back, the deadlock broken by Dachs setting tea and sweet bread in front of her. The rats shifted their attention to him, and their suspicion deepened. He sighed and made his way back to the bar, unable to force a smile as he spoke with the customers crowding the counter.
That, more than anything, indicated not just bad, but devastating news.
She took the pain meds, wincing as the hot liquid scalded her mouth and throat. What was wrong with her? Causing more pain would not alleviate what she already had, even if it provided a minute distraction. She eyed the bread; she did not want the medicine to upset her already knotted tummy, so nibbled on a slice.
The rats closed their books, leaned back, and waited.
She could out-wait them. She had in the past, and while hearing them grumble about it for weeks afterwards would annoy her, better that, than stabbing their psyches and twisting the knife.
“Weren’t you taking LX70 to the workstation?” Scand asked, breaking the excruciating silence. “That’s what Gabby said.”
“Yeah. We reached the depot, and she took off while everyone carried the heads to the wagons. We saw hoofprints in the tunnel coming back, and Jiy’s the place to go if she’s looking for a warmer hidey hole. She’ll be keeping to the alleys and uncommon back ways. If you see khentauree tracks, you need to tell us. If you see her, be polite, but leave the area.”
“Why’d she do that?” Gabby asked, frowning, her fingers absently thumping her knight book. “Isn’t the workstation a better place for her? They have parts and equipment and sponoil.”
“I think she’s after Tuft.”
Alarm zipped through the rats before Lykas leaned forward, earnest and intense.
“We can take turns guarding him,” he offered. The others immediately murmured assent. “We’re not doing much right now. Other than the speech, the Lells has been dead except for locals buying supplies.”
Considering everything that happened in rapid succession, that did not surprise her. When would average people return to their every day, rather than hiding in their homes, wrapped in worry about the future? “Thank you, Lykas, but I don’t want to put you in danger. LX70’s unpredictable.”
“They’re programmed not to hurt kids.”
“And we don’t know who she considers a kid. You look old enough, she might think you’re a threat. I doubt she’ll ask your age before she attacks.” She winced and touched her shoulder; the meds needed to kick in, because the pain irritated her already stretched emotions.
“I look like a kid,” Ness said, sitting straighter, his eyes glued to her injured arm. “So does Phialla.”
“Ness—”
“And Phialla can yell real loud.”
She choked on a laugh. “She can,” she agreed as the potter glared at her painter. “The whole House would come running.” A shadow paused over her, and she turned in time to watch Dagby plunk a giant jug of wake juice on the table before he plopped into the seat across from her, sending a wash of cool air across the surface.
“The Pit, not you too,” she said, snarling at the drink.
He grinned, though the humor failed to reach his eyes. He knew, then. “I appreciate that Patch’s reputation precedes him, and I can get this much with an agreement that I return the jug.” He tapped the ceramic surface, then eyed Phialla. “Do you think you can make me one of these?”
She cocked her head and studied it while Ness vigorously nodded. “I’ve not made one before,” she said slowly. “But I have thrown vases with handles. It might take a couple of tries before I get it right.”
“That’s fine. I’ll pay for the clay.” He popped the cork and guzzled—and Lapis wondered if the juice and her company kept him from going down a far more dangerous coping route. “Have Chiddle and Dov stopped by?”
“Not since I’ve been here.” She glanced at the rats, who shook their heads.
“Are they looking for LX70?” Scand asked, seriousness overriding his typical outrageous self. Had her distrust of the mechanical being rubbed off on them? Good. That meant they would heed her warnings rather than cave to their curiosity and attempt to find her. She distrusted her goodwill, and she had doubts programming would halt her from harming a perceived threat.
“Yeah. Chiddle doesn’t think they’ll be able to detect her when she arrives. Dov is a tad more optimistic, but I don’t think they’re expectin’ to find her before she goes underground.”
“None of them realized she had left until they turned around and she wasn’t there,” Lapis said. “Their scans proved fruitless. It’s true, conditions were windy and the tunnels block detection devices, but Ghost said they expected her to revolt and kept an eye on her. They still didn’t see her go.”
Dagby contemplated her, concern drifting into unease. “How’d they not see her?”
“Ghost took the device that made her invisible. They don’t know what else she’s using to hide, but she has something. It’s a good thing we have Mint and Tia. She may be able to hide visibly, but she can’t avoid a terron’s nose.”
“The Ambercaast khentauree are nice, and they wanted to help,” Gabby said, stretching along her book so her fingers slid over the top and danced atop the table’s surface. “Why’d she leave?”
“She didn’t like Ghost’s pledge,” Lapis said quietly. “He has a community to protect, and he doesn’t trust her or the heads, so he had them promise a few things they disliked, but felt they had no choice and agreed to them. She’s the one with a body who could do something about her disgruntlement, so she left. I doubt she’ll regain what she lost when she bolted. Ghost isn’t the forgiving type.”
“Really? When I say I’m sorry, he pats me on the shoulder and tells me I’m learning.”
Dagby laughed. “Ghost has a soft spot for kids. Besides, you aren’t malicious when you make a mistake, you aren’t testin’ boundaries you already knew were set. Bein’ a courier’s tough, and you’re willin’ to learn. That’s a huge difference.”
“They’s all gots a scary side,” Rin said, leaning over on his folded arms.
Lapis nodded. Except for Scand, he had far more experience with the nastier side of the khentauree than the other rats. “They do, and some are more terrifying than others.” Memory flashed of her trapped within Dreamer’s hands, and she buried it. Adding more to her overwrought emotions would not help her mood.
“I still I can’t wait to go visit after the snows melt!” Gabby beamed at her. “Ghost said he’d introduce me to more khentauree, and I’ll get to see Cuddle Bear.” She reared up, arms stretched over her head. “He’s huge!”
“It’s strange to me, that terra-khents exist,” Dagby said, pushing the conversation away from what truly bothered them. “I’d think their owners would’ve feared them, as massive as they are.”
“It’s hard not to fear a being that can squish you with one hoof,” Lapis said.
“Yeah, but smaller horses can do that.” He laughed at her consternation. “The khentauree say that Meergevenis had more body types than what made it over to Taangis, then Theyndora.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “They say that there were spider khentauree that scuttled about and jumped out of the shadows, and snake khentauree that slithered fast and slipped into the smallest holes.”
Thrilled, the rats had a new shiny to discuss, and when Ness picked up a pen to draw, everyone else followed with their own khentauree body types that would terrify anyone happening upon them. The young painter did a good rep of a butterfly khentauree with a huge stinger, and Scand and Gabby co-created a giant spinning eye with four legs that would petrify the masses.
Lyet’s had a striking resemblance to the man who destroyed her childhood and still terrified her. Now would be the opportunity to draw her aside, ask what happened at the Lells during the speech, but that night, she did not have the emotional resolve and sympathy to give the teen everything she needed to continue her healing. Guilt hammered her, but better silence, than saying or doing something foolish because her head and heart writhed in their own agony.
Rin slid his arm around Lyet’s shoulders, and she snuggled close, contemplating what she drew. He caught Lapis’s eye, and his worry concerned her; had the teen told him what happened, or did he worry in ignorance, just like she did?
The night wore on, and the rats either drifted away to their cubbies or went up to Rin’s room, and she relaxed; they had not pried the terrible news from her lips. She struggled with her rawness; she could not handle soothing another’s deep pain. They would feel the punch as hard and fast as she, and holding them while they cried was as apt to break her as comfort them.
“She isn’t dead.”
Lapis looked at Dagby, tempted to take the jug, rap it over his head, and pay the fine to Fished Out. “Yeah.”
He took a swig, and kept the jug close. Had her intent been that obvious? “Look. Someone like Jarosa isn’t goin’ down so easy.”
Dachs wandered over, leaving Dani to tend the bar. He sank down in a chair, clasped his hands together, and set his chin on his fingers. His typical round cheeks had fallen with his mood and the dark soberness in his eyes aged him ten years. “She’s the most stubborn person I’ve met,” he said with quiet certainty. “And considerin’ our mutual acquaintances, that’s sayin’ somethin’. She’s fierce, a fighter. No shield breaker’s gonna end her.”
A tear coursed down her cheek. “You didn’t see the footage,” she whispered. “You didn’t see how far she flew after the breaker exploded. She landed and didn’t move.”
The two men regarded the tabletop with solemn acceptance tinged with the need to deny the severity of the injury, to provide hope, however muted.
She scrubbed the cooling trail of tears away and fought past her trembling lower lip. “I know Patch thinks the Dentherions are pushing it because they’re going to lose Ramira, but even if she lives, the empire announced she died on that battlefield. They’ll have to elect a new veritiate deathknell before the faithful and loyal lose hope. The only reason Jarosa holds that title is because she wanted to lead the rebels in Ramira, and that was the deathknell’s duty. She’ll have everything that defined her for decades taken away.”
“I’ve been to Ramira,” Dachs said, his tone warm with respect. “The people there love the Meint, and they adore Jarosa. She was never shy about fighting for them, and she proved, no matter the personal cost, that she meant her words. If she lives, very few will demand she step down. Even if she’s a figurehead, they’ll want her as their voice.”
Every rebellion would send an envoy to the Wolf to speak for them and their country, and he assumed that Jarosa would bear that task for Ramira. But Dentheria proudly proclaimed they had eradicated her threat, and while the general populace had no access to the footage, word would spread among them like fire through an old, tumbled-down house. No one would escape the gossip. They would form their opinions long before she recovered, and they would expect a new veritiate deathknell to succeed her.
Scand squeaked as he slid past, trailing outdoor cold, the snow on the bottoms of his shoes eliminating his traction. He thumped into the wall next to her and grabbed onto the bench back for balance. Miyomon trailed him, his worn coat clutched close by two mittened hands, wide-eyed, pinched-mouthed, shaking.
“Lady!” Scand slipped, then leaned over, almost ramming his stomach into her shoulder.
“What happened? A shank?”
“Kinda?” He waved them all closer. “Miyomon’s got something you need to hear!”
And that something terrified him. “My room,” she said, jerking her chin to the stairs.
Scand had retrieved her hidden key and opened the door before she and Miyomon made it to the stairwell, Dagby and Dachs a step behind. The ex-chaser shoved his free hand into his pocket and settled against the wall, mildly interested and unobtrusive, while Dachs closed the door with a firm click, blocking the warmer Eaves air from entering her chilly room. She dumped herself in a chair and leaning over her knees towards the two rats, who sat on the edge of her mattress, bouncy with nerves. Scand’s excitement battered Miyomon’s anxiety, and she hoped whatever he had to say did not add more to an already stressful night. Stars’ Luck, she’d have to chase down an underground menace while emotional burdens slowed her step.
“What’s up?”
Miyomon swallowed, his grey eyes shining with unshed tears. “Well, I was in my cubby makin’ knots when I heard soft crunchy sounds outside. You never know when some shank’s sneakin’ up on you, so I’m always payin’ attention to the alley. I peeked through my peephole—and it was a khentauree. They had a darker chassis and green stripes on their arms and legs.”
LX70. “Shit.”
“It’s her, huh?” Scand asked, bouncy enough to earn a stern glare from his friend.
“Yeah, sounds like.” She knew of no other dark grey khentauree with green stripes, though, if LX70 was meeting a member of her etak in Jiy . . .
“They shimmered, but it kept fizzin’ out, and they’d stamp their front hooves every time. I thought I might ask if they needed help, but somethin’ about them made me hesitate. I don’t know why. They seemed . . . angry, in a bad way, like when shanks think they can take my bits and I fight back. They went the back-alley way towards the cemetery, and I went back to knottin’, listening harder in case they came back. I kept jumpin’ at odd sounds, then I heard whufflin’. Dogs. I peeked again; there were guys in black uniforms with orange lights, and their dogs were snuffin’ around the tracks. One of them found the cubby entrance, but the guy couldn’t figure out how to get in. He punched the door, but it didn’t give. His buddy called to him, so he yanked his dog back and they headed down the same alley the khentauree took.”
Lapis sat back and rubbed her eyes. Would she ever get a break? “Miyomon, thank you. This is important information, and I’ll get you and Scand a silver for bringing it to me.” Their eyes popped, but she had the feeling the uneasy rat wouldn’t return to his cubby for a few days, so the pay would keep him fed, and Scand did the right thing in accompanying him to the Eaves. “Do you know what kind of dogs they were?”
“The short ones with long ears and good noses. Didn’t seem happy to be out in the cold. They were whinin’ and whimperin’ and sounded miserable.”
“Well, I can’t blame them for not wanting to be outside on nights like these. Poor puppies. How about the men. Did they say anything?”
“They were arguin’ and it got hot, but I didn’t catch a lot of it. They said somethin’ like missle’s comin’ soon, and I have no idea what that means.”
Missle’s coming? That sounded worse than bad. The only muscles she knew of were Dentherion explosives. “How long was it between the khentauree leaving and the uniforms showing up?”
He pursed his lips. “A little while. I got four of my less-complicated designs done, so maybe an hour?”
“How long ago did it happen?”
“Khentauree showed up as the Old Temple’s bell rang, so the evenin’ prayers hour.” His stress popped out. “I’m sorry, Lady, I shoulda come earlier. It’s strange, and you told us, if we see anythin’ odd, we need to tell you.”
“It’s alright.” Fear played a huge role in his reticence, as it did with most rats. He likely waited, eyes glued to the intersection below, until he was absolutely certain neither would return before leaving, so he did not expose his cubby to an enemy.
“He was on his way to warn me because they were heading towards the cemetery,” Scand said. “We met on Cander.”
“Well, you’re both safe now, and you did the right thing, coming here. Miyomon, if you remember anything else, make sure to write it down. It’s hard when it seems so urgent, but let your mind relax and something might pop up. Do you feel comfy, going back to your cubby?”
He hesitated, then shook his head.
“You can stay here,” she told him. “Get a bath with Rin and borrow a nightshirt before you snuggle up under my covers, though.”
“We’ll knock, see if Rin’s up,” Scand said.
“He should be. Tell him I need him to take word to the House that LX70 was seen near Miyomon’s cubby, and was headed down an alley leading to the cemetery with those unknown Green Castle mercs in pursuit. Someone needs to come to the Eaves and speak with Mitomon for more info.” She slapped her hands on her thighs and rose. “Miyomon, would you mind telling someone from the House what happened? It really is that important.”
“That’s fine.”
“Are you going to wait?” Dagby asked.
“No. If the mercs expanded their search for her here, she’s in more trouble than she knows.”
He pushed from the wall and set the jug on her table. “Alright. I have weapons, and you need backup.”
“I’ll come, too,” Dachs said, cracking his knuckles. “Could use a little head-bashin’, get some anger out.”
She raised an eyebrow as the rats’ shock made him chuckle. “You sure? We have no idea when backup from the House will arrive.”
“Which means you need all the muscle you can get. I still have my marching shirts. I’ll be fine.”
She hopped to her closet and opened the door. “After you tell Rin, you two go down and get something warm to drink. Tell Dani to put it on my tab.”
“OK,” Scand said, popped up, and sped out the door, Dachs following to retrieve his equipment. Miyomon blinked after them and remained rooted.
She smiled, hoping her sympathy showed through. “And if you want something to eat, that’s fine too.” She took her gauntlets from the cushioned case set on a side shelf. “You said they punched your door but nothing happened. Did you reinforce it?”
“Copper went around and helped us,” he said. “He was concerned, ‘cause of everythin’ goin’ on. All of us who wanted it, he worked on our entrances. Good thing, too.”
“Copper will be happy to hear the effort kept you safe.” She slid the weapons on, shuddering as the cold leather contacted her skin. She needed to scrounge and find a heating element to keep her room warmer. Heat rising from the tavern below never kept the place as comfy as she wanted.
Rin trotted into the open doorway. “Lykas’s wantin’ t’ know if we should warn them others in the area.”
She paused, hating the suggestion, then adjusted the straps, giving her heart time to settle. “Yeah. Just be careful, Rin. LX70’s being hunted, and I doubt she’ll take kindly to anyone she deems a threat.”
“We’s sneaky.”
“And she has tech to detect you.” She eyed him. “If any of them are uneasy about staying in their cubbies, put them up here. There’s no reason to take a chance on her or the mercs’ goodwill. And if you see anything odd, get back to the House and report.”
“Aye, Lady.”
“Apprentice work gets apprentice pay, but I don’t want to scrape you off a snowy road, Rin.”
“Y’should have more faith in our wantin’ t’ stay outta the Pit.”
She pursed her lips at him as Dagby howled. “And how many times have you snuck aboard a Swift to plop yourself in the middle of the danger?”
Rin wisely smashed his lips together and retreated.
“I was too much like that, as a kid,” Dagby said, shaking his head. “Granna Cup teases me about it all the time.”
“I think it’s a requirement for chasers,” she grumbled. “Learning how to get out of trouble before you take your first stake’s a handy thing.”
“It helps.” He glanced at Scand as the rat hopped into the doorway and motioned for Miyomon to join him. They both gave her smiles before clomping down the stairs. He waited until they reached the bottom before closing the door. “How much fire power are we looking at in LX70?”
She shook her head. “Ghost took the device that made her invisible. She’s still able to use something to sneak away. Maybe it was that shimmery thing Miyomon talked about, and it’s no longer viable. I don’t know. But we need to assume she can hide from normal sight and that she might have more weapons than a forehead beam.” She touched the place the khentauree had their third eye. “I’m more concerned about the mercs. LX70 is a known military khentauree, and we can make assumptions about what to expect. We have no idea who the mercs are, who they work for, and if they’re talking about missles?”
“Take them out first, then.”
He may have retired, but Lapis doubted Dagby would ever discard the hunter in him.
