Выбрать главу

Just like last time, it was dark; and just like last time, the place smelled of dirt and mold. But it wasn’t raining now; nor had I been sent here by Shadow to find someone; rather, I was here to meet the Gray Prince. Alone.

That was the strangest part-not having Degan at my back. I’d felt his absence while coming through the Barren, and felt it even more now. It wasn’t just the security of a strong arm and a ready sword that I missed, but the lack of his presence, his voice-even his dry sense of humor-that left me feeling exposed. It was as if part of my shadow were missing.

I had spent the past three days holed up with Jelem and Baldezar. My foray out to see Solitude had been my first major trip on the street since I’d killed Nicco. Plenty of people wanted me dustmans for that, along with a host of other things. Now was the perfect time to settle old scores, especially with an out-of-favor Nose. But even with all that, I’d slipped out twice-the first to ask Fowler to track down Degan, and the second to learn that she hadn’t had any success.

I still wasn’t sure whether I was relieved at her failure or not. Part of me wanted to talk to Degan one last time, to try to explain, to hear him say he understood, or even for him to tell me to go to hell-just as long as I could apologize. But another part knew better; knew that no matter what I said, things were broken between us. And that part was glad I wouldn’t have to go through the torture of trying to explain the inexplicable.

The blanket was still lying in the doorway. I stepped over it and walked a little over halfway into the room. I set down the bulky satchel I’d brought and pulled out the candle Jelem had given me. It was thick-about as fat around as my wrist-and heavy, made from a dirty yellow wax that looked like tallow but felt somehow softer to the touch. It was half as long as my forearm, with a clean-cut bottom and top.

I set the candle on the floor and pulled out my fire box. I sparked the tinder and lit it in short order.

The wick caught, hissed like an angry cat, and went out. I waited. Then, just as Jelem had said it would, the candle rekindled. The flame was small and yellow, with just the faintest hint of silver around the edges. If you didn’t know to look for that trace of magic, you could miss it. I was counting on that.

I looked around the room: four windows, the one door, no chairs. I went back and retrieved the blanket, folding it as I recrossed the room. I stuck the journal inside the blanket so it couldn’t be seen, then placed it under me as I sat down on the far side of the circle of light, well away from the door. I put the satchel containing Iron Degan’s sword behind me, pulled out the bag of seeds I’d gotten from Jelem, and waited.

Shadow showed up an hour later, which made him three hours early for our meeting. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or frightened.

The candle, of course, had given me away. Shadow swept in without hesitation and walked straight toward me. As he moved, his cloak flared out and back, showing hints of a gray doublet and black jerkin, tall riding boots, and a silver-handled sword. His face was a veil of darkness.

I sat, motionless, my heart hammering louder in my ear with each step. When he reached the outer edge of the circle of candlelight, I spoke.

“That’s far enough,” I said.

Shadow took two more deliberate steps and stopped just inside the light.

“You’re early,” said Shadow.

“And you’re not?”

“I wasn’t the one who pulled a knife last time we met,” he said. “I thought it best to come ahead and make sure you didn’t have any surprises waiting for me.”

“And maybe install a few of your own?”

Shadow waved a dismissive hand. “I think we both know that isn’t necessary.” The cowl panned back and forth, surveying the room.

“He’s not here,” I said, knowing the Gray Prince was looking to see if Degan was lurking in a dark corner. “Nor is anyone else. It’s just you and me.”

“Which effectively puts you at my mercy.” Shadow crossed his arms, putting his right hand disturbingly close to his sword’s handle. I remembered his taking on Degan and holding his own. I couldn’t beat that, not straight on. “You must have something good, if you think you can talk me out of killing you,” he said.

I made a point of digging out a seed and slipping it into my mouth. “What I have is Ioclaudia’s journal. I want to talk terms.”

Shadow threw his head back and laughed. “So you decided to do it after all,” he said. “First you betrayed Nicco, and now Kells. Splendid! You’re becoming quite the operator, Drothe. With a bit of money and time, you could make a reasonable Upright Man.”

“If that’s a job offer, I’m not interested.”

Shadow’s tone grew as serious as my own. “It wasn’t. You tried to kill me. I can’t let that stand. Showing any kind of leniency, let alone favoritism, would only undercut my reputation. And what are any of us but half action and half threat to begin with?” Shadow hooked his thumbs in his sword belt. “I can let the baroness live. I’ll leave you alive, too, but there has to be a visible consequence-a missing finger, an ear, something small. And you have to leave Ildrecca. Five years, maybe seven-until people forget.”

“It won’t take them that long to forget.”

“It will for me.”

And there it was: This had become more personal than business for Shadow. My jumping him and getting away were eating at him more than the idea of Solitude getting her hands on something he wanted. Unless I could convince Shadow what I had to offer was more valuable than getting his hands on me, I wasn’t going to get out of this in one piece.

I shifted on my seat, feeling the journal beneath me. “Have you forgotten what’s in that book?” I said. “What I had to go through to get it?” I indicated the shadowy space around us with a sweep of my arm. “Degan and I fought White Sashes in this room. The empire has troops in Ten Ways because of it. Hell, I had to sneak through their lines just to get here. It’s fucking Imperial magic! And now you’re telling me that in exchange for something that will give you a stranglehold on the Kin, you’re going to cut pieces off me and banish me from Ildrecca?” I let out a short, derisive laugh. “Something tells me I can hold out for more.”

“You can hold out for whatever you want, Drothe,” said Shadow. “But you need to remember something: Bargaining only works when both parties have something to lose. Whether I walk out of here with the journal, or you, in my hands, doesn’t really matter. Either way, I’ll be satisfied. And either way, I’ll eventually end up with the book.”

“And if I’ve made alternate arrangements for the journal?” I said.

“In case you don’t come back?” said Shadow. “What are you going to do? Destroy it? Regrettable, but then no one else has it, either. Give it to Solitude? If you were going to do that, you would have done it already, and she would be here backing your play. Sell it back to the empire?” Shadow snorted a laugh. “We both know you stand a better chance with me than trying to deal with the emperor. No, unless it’s destroyed, I’ll find it. You’ve shown that that can be done, after all.”

I looked up into the cowl. This was just about how I had figured it would play out: Shadow wasn’t the kind to negotiate when he didn’t have to-after all, he was a Gray Prince. We both knew the only real leverage I had was the book, and once that was out of my hands, all the power reverted to him. At least he was being honest about it.

The only thing that had gone my way so far was the fact that he hadn’t tried to dust me the moment he’d walked into the room. And even that was dubious luck at best.

“I’m not going to offer again,” said Shadow.

I sighed and shifted off the blanket. “I know,” I said. I pulled out the journal and stood up.

Shadow chuckled. “Sitting on it this whole time? No one can say you don’t have balls.” He held out his hand.