Lapis had thought something was odd about the Back Den, though she never managed to place what. The staff were friendly enough, and they never interfered when she snagged a shank for a theft, but when she announced herself and took custody, the patrons booed the unlucky stake, not her. In other places, she suffered sharp reprimands, with friends interfering so their buddy could escape. Even affable venues that welcomed her chase would not interfere when her stake turned sour, so having the support confused her. Was the reason for Back Den’s difference due to the Rams’ presence?
She glanced at the foggy windows she passed, wishing she could catch a glimpse of the janks following her. A particularly brutal gust had her hunching down and turning her head away, providing an opportunity to see her chasers without them seeing her peek; they trailed her at a distance, and with their arms up blocking their sight, she did not think that they realized she saw them.
She wanted to slip into an alley and take a roof shortcut, but the point was to lead them away from Tamor and Patch, not slip away and have them return to the other group, giving the men more opponents to fight—if it came to that. Worry marched from her tummy to her chest, and she replayed the events that led to her freeing Lykas.
Freeing Lykas. She laughed in despondent bitterness.
She heard the crunching of running steps, a gait all too familiar. Dammit, he never could stay put. She glared at Rin as he trotted to her side, face red from the wind and cold.
“Rin, seriously, this isn’t the time.”
“You’s bein’ followed.”
“Yep.”
“Them janks ‘r persistent.”
“Rin—”
“Where’s we goin’?”
“How did you even find me?”
“Rat goin’ to Curly Cues. Said he saw you’n Patch savin’ a shank from the janks. Ran to the Eaves to fetch me.”
She sighed to herself. Of course a rat would do that, and of course Rin would stick his nose where it did not belong. Once this business was finished, she would ask Patch to have a sit-down with her apprentice and remind him that, unless she specifically asked him to accompany her, he needed to stay away. “Not a shank, but Tamor. And it’s dangerous to attract their attention right now.”
“Too late, I’m here.”
Since ranting at him might tip the janks into thinking something was amiss, she shoved the need to yell into the far corners of her being. “We’re going to the Back Den. I talk, you do nothing. Understood?”
“Aye, Lady. Humble apprentice, that’s me.”
He seemed too cheerful for the danger he now faced.
People crowded into the Back Den, making the place too hot for one wearing outer gear to stave off the bitter cold, too loud for someone who wanted the barkeep and no one else to hear what she had to say, and too smoky for easy breathing. Lapis kept her collar up and wormed through the bodies, apologizing for the pushes in soft but confident tones. She made her way to the end of the dimly lit bar, knowing Rin would squirrel after her without difficulty. She glanced up at the wide board listing menu items, then leaned on her elbows to wait.
A man in a short-sleeved shirt slid a beer mug to a laughing shank and stepped to her, despite other customers waiting before her. “Poor weather, for chasin’ a stake,” he said.
“Don’t I know it,” she murmured. “Wind, snow, janks, which is why I’d like a roundabout to start off the night.”
He chuckled. “Fer two?”
“Yeah.” She smacked Rin’s arm as he squirmed into the space next to her. “Sometimes apprentices are a little too headstrong for their own good.”
“I’m not the headstrong one,” Rin said with sniffy aplomb. That elicited a wider grin from the man.
“Sit tight.”
She nodded as he moved on, then peered around.
Back Den’s clientele were shanks who made decent money, but not enough to get them out of the Grey Streets. They pretended to higher standards when it came to jobs, even if few met them. They wore unpatched clothing, boots that did not wear out in a month or two, and washed on a regular basis. The smells inside were usually a clash of perfumes with alcohol, rather than body odor. Had it always been that way, or had the Rams changed it when they founded the safehouse? Curiosity ate at her, but she tucked the question away. She had other concerns.
Rin turned to her, his cloak flumping across the counter and covering her just enough to hide her from the front door and any janks making an unwelcome visit. She caught a glimpse of dark coats, and she tensed. Hopefully they slipped into the safehouse before a confrontation took place.
“Thinkin’ somethin’s up,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Lells rats ‘r sayin’ them janks swarmed the Lells when the shops started t’ close.”
“Something is,” she agreed, and refused to elaborate, despite his unsubtle question.
“Good to see you two.”
Lapis looked over at the woman; she recognized her from the Ram’s gate. “Good to see you hale and whole.”
She jerked her chin at the barkeep, then nodded. “Likewise. Come on. We’ll get you below before the janks see you.”
“Thank you.”
“Hey! You!”
“Ignore them,” the woman said. Lapis swore the noise increased as they scooched down the wall and to a door between two that had sinks painted on the dull green stain. After a knock, pause, knock, pause, knock knock, the door opened, and she slipped inside. Lapis followed, Rin pressed against her back.
She sighed, relieved, at the quiet that followed closing the door. The woman patted her shoulder and motioned for them to follow while the gangly man who answered the door sat back down on a stool and pushed his nose into a book.
The hallway was a dull yellow, which clashed with the yellow glare of fruit oil lamps and made everything look dark and sallow. They exited into a room with soft pink paint on the walls and red furniture—not what Lapis expected from a Rams’ safehouse. They continued to another hallway with four rooms off it, entering a plain whitewashed one with tech equipment stacked precariously on an unsteady metal table.
“They just arrived,” the woman manning the comms said. She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll tell them.” A pause. “Yes, them.”
“Rin’s with me,” Lapis said drily. The woman relayed the message, then raised her eyebrow.
“Patch says he’s going to have a word with your apprentice, as the one Faelan had didn’t stick.”
Lapis elbowed him, amused at Rin’s exaggerated grumpiness at the words. “I take it he and Tamor made it safe?”
The woman slid the headset from her ears. “They’re at the Minq safehouse. He said they left them wandering around Forgestone and Bellows. Gera contacted us and said you’d be arriving here. More janks are showing up at the Lells, so the Minq are preparing for a raid at the Underroute. We sent help, and they should arrive in time for an assault.”
“Are we still meeting up at the Intersection?”
“Yes. You’ll be escorting Lord Krios and the khentauree dignitaries.” She rose and went to a notebook, ripping out the page. “We don’t have a map to give you, so I drew one up.” She pointed at the bottom. “We’re here. Facing away from the ladder, take a left, and run until you see a lamp jutting out of the corner of the crossing tunnel; it’ll be red. Take a right at that route, and you’ll get to the main thoroughfare; it’s large and well-lit. Turn left and you’ll reach the Intersection quick enough.”
“I appreciate the help.”
Both nodded.
“Take care,” said the one from the gate. “We think someone told the janks about the dignitaries’ arrival. I don’t see any other reason for them to be out in force on a frozen night like this.”
A faint sound reached them. The two women frowned, and the doorman slapped his hand on the doorjamb and whirled inside.
“They started a fight.”
The comms woman hastened to the corner as the other two ran out the door and slammed her hand into the wall; a click resounded off the tile. A square rose, revealing the smooth tops of an iron bar ladder. Lapis grabbed the map and hurried down, Rin behind her. A fruit oil lamp marked the bottom, but the tunnel was dark in both directions. The trapdoor closed, and before she triggered the purple-glowing beam of a gauntlet, the rat pulled a shiny metal circle from his coat. The middle glowed blue, enough to illuminate a few steps beyond them.
“Who’d you pick that from?”
“Jank. Thought he’d be clever ‘n make a scene at Fished Out. Didn’t realize we cleaned 'm out ‘til he went t’ pay at another place.”
Of course. They turned left and ran.
