Hope and Red (23 page)

He struggled for a moment, as if he didn't want to get sucked into the conversation any deeper. But then he suddenly gave in and his face lit up with almost childish delight. “Right, but when you combine two rows, you can make a two-digit number. Combine three rows at once, and you make a three-digit number, and so on. The bigger the number, the more stones you can put down.”

“Okay. I can see how that could get complicated.”

Red smiled at her, and it wasn't one of his smirks that he thought were so charming. It was grateful. “Most people don't get it.”

And that was it. Other people might appreciate his charm or his aim, but Hope wondered if there had been anyone else since his parents died who appreciated his intelligence.

“Piss'ell!” yelled the old man at Greeny Colleen's table. “Again, Greeny! How do you…”

The small woman smiled shyly. “I like numbers, Cast. That's all. They're like friends to me.”

Cast grunted, shoved his last wooden chip into the stacks of stones on the table, and left.

“That's our cue,” said Red.

They walked over to the table. Colleen looked up at them, her brow furrowed. “You're new.”

“I am,” agreed Red as he sat down.

“I don't usually play new people.”

“The guy over there.” Red nodded to him. “He said you needed a challenge.”

“Are you any good?” She squinted at him, her lips pursed.

“Only one way to find out,” said Red.

“How do you play?” she asked.

“No digit limit. Is there any other way?”

Colleen gave another shy smile. “Not if you love the game.”

They played for over an hour. Hope hadn't realized a game could even go on that long. There would be times when each was down to only a few stones. But then one would block the other and the next thing she knew, they'd both be forced to pull stones until it seemed they were starting from the beginning again.

At first, she followed the flow of the game easily. Sitting behind Red, she could see the numbers on his remaining stones and was even able to predict some of his moves. But as the game progressed, and the two players began to understand how well matched they were, things sped up until it was a rapid fire of clicks, as stone after stone was placed, removed, shuffled. This was about more than quick mathematical equations. There was something larger at play. It reminded her of the same inspired free flow that ran through her when she fought.

Other players left their own games to watch, whispering to each other as if afraid a loud noise would break the spell. Hope suspected that not even a thunderclap would break their focus. Sweat trickled down Red's temple, and Colleen's face was flushed. So much effort in such stillness, thought Hope. There was something to this. Some lesson she could learn. It flickered tantalizingly at the edges of her mind, but would not come. The more she reached for it, the more it eluded her.

And then she realized, all at once,
that
was the lesson. In stillness, there was no reaching. There was only observation, acceptance, and reaction, all without seeking to control.

“Well,” said Red, breaking into Hope's thoughts. A ripple of muttered comments worked through the crowd.

Hope looked down at his hands to see if he had played all his stones. He had something in his hand, but she couldn't see what it was.

Greeny Colleen had both hands splayed in front of her, and she was panting through a fierce grin. “That…was worth it.” She lifted up her hands. Beneath one was her last stone. She held out a wooden chip.

Red shook his head. “The pleasure was just as much mine.” He held up his own wooden chip. “Keep yours and take mine, if you can get me a friendly introduction to Big Sig.”

Greeny Colleen's eyes went wide in surprise. She was about to speak, but a new voice cut in. “You don't need to bribe any more of my wags. Your skill alone is enough to get an introduction with me.”

The crowd of spectators around them parted. Towering over them all was the largest man Hope had ever seen. His fists were as big as a child's head, his chest as thick as a bear's. He had close-cropped hair and a long beard, black but peppered with gray. His nose looked like it had been broken several times, and there was a hard glint to his eyes that suggested to Hope that he rarely lost his temper, and was all the more dangerous for that reason.

“Now let's see…,” said Big Sig. “Red, right? I heard of you. The clever thief with the red eyes.”

Red gave him a calm smile. “You keen me.”

“Not entirely,” said Big Sig. “Never knew you were also a master stones player.”

“Ah, that bit I try to keep quiet,” said Red. “Otherwise, it'd be hells to get a game going. Most people don't care to play me once they find out how good I am.”

“I'll play you.” Big Sig nodded to Greeny Colleen, who gathered up her chips and stood aside respectfully. “I doubt I'll win, mind you. But it's nice to have at least one activity I can participate in where losing doesn't mean death.”

“You like losing?” asked Red.

“It's instructive,” said Sig. “Besides, while we play, you can explain to me why you're here in a way that convinces me you're not one of Drem's boots come to stick a knife in me. I'd hate to kill such a talented stones player.”

“With respect,” said Red as he set up for a new game, “if I was here to kill you, you'd already be dead.”

“Hear you have remarkable aim,” said Sig as he pulled his twenty stones from the pile.

“You heard right. Although I'm not the truly deadly one.”

Big Sig glanced up at Hope. “That your bodyguard?”

“Body and soul guard, you could say,” said Red. “She's teaching me how to be a person who's worth more than some clever tricks.”

Hope was struck by that. She never intended to instruct him or anyone else in the right way to live. Perhaps she voiced her opinions about Red and his lifestyle too carelessly. After all, what was it to her how he lived?

“Remarkable woman,” said Sig.

“You got no idea.”

And yet, he insisted on being so rude at times. She couldn't help herself. “Are you two finished talking about me as if I wasn't present?”

Big Sig nodded politely to her. Then he looked back at Red. “Begin.”

“So it's like this,” said Red as he laid his first stone. “My wag here needs Deadface Drem dead. Personal matter.”

“I see.” Sig placed a stone, his expression slightly amused.

“And in the spirit of someone who is trying to look beyond himself, I feel like the Circle could do without Drem. Might even improve the place.”

“Also, he has a price on your head,” said Sig.

“Getting rid of that would be included in the improvements,” admitted Red with no trace of embarrassment as he slid a stone into place.

Big Sig placed a stone of his own. “And where do I come in?”

“Drem has an army to protect him at his club. So I thought—”

“You'd run on over to Hammer Point and get your own army. But what's in it for me and my wags?”

“Tell me you don't want Drem dead.”

“There's a lot of things I want,” said Sig. “I'm accustomed to not always getting them.”

“Fair enough. But this could be about more than getting back at Drem. Once Drem's out of the picture, and things are more favorable toward you in the Circle, we could return the favor. Help you muscle out your competition here.”

All this time, Red and Sig had been placing pieces, almost indifferently. But now Red laid down a stone that seemed to block all of Sig's progress. He smirked slightly.

Big Sig nodded gravely as he surveyed the pieces. “All that sounds quite sharp. Except there's a piece that you're missing.” Then he laid down a stone in a row that had appeared blocked because, up until that moment, he hadn't used a combination like that.

Red's eyebrow shot up as he assessed the changed situation. “Oh?”

“Do you know how hard it is to consolidate power over an entire neighborhood?” asked Sig. “Nearly impossible. I can't do it, and while I'm not as ruthless as Drem, I'm smarter and my wags are more loyal. It takes more than one person to gain that kind of power.” He laid another stone.

“You're saying he had help?” asked Hope. “From outside Paradise Circle?”

“I am,” said Sig.

“From who?” Red looked skeptical as he took up a stone.

“Biomancers,” said Sig. “Army or not, we're no match for them.”

“Biomancers?” Red snorted. “That's a load of balls and pricks.”

“How do you know?” Hope asked Sig. She was not so ready to dismiss a potential lead to a biomancer.

“He doesn't know,” said Red. “He's just repeating gossip.”

“I
know
,” said Sig, “because they offered me the same deal they gave him. They told me they could give me the advantage over the other neighborhood gangs, put me in charge of all Hammer Point. In return, I would provide them with a new human subject every month.”

“To experiment on.” Hope's voice was flat. The tentacles of these biomancers reached even into the New Laven underworld. Yet there was something fitting about Carmichael's murderer having some connection to the other people she hated.

“Yes,” said Sig. “That's when they told me that Drem had already taken the deal. They said if I didn't, eventually Drem would overrun Hammer Point.”

“And what did you say?” Hope wondered, if he admitted to joining them, would she kill him on the spot?

“I told them I would claim Hammer Point on my own or not at all,” said Sig.

Hope relaxed a little. “Very brave of you.”

“Very stupid, too. They said to me, ‘You've bitten off more than you can chew.' Then one of them, this cunt-dropping with a burn mark on his face, comes up to me and just taps on my jaw with his finger. That's it. But a sharp pain went through my face, and then my teeth crumbled in my mouth.”

Big Sig smiled. A big, wide smile that showed he had a full set of wooden teeth.

“This biomancer with the burn mark.” Hope's voice was barely louder than a whisper. The idea that this biomancer could be the one she'd been seeking for the past ten years sent her pulse racing, but outwardly she remained calm. “Did he also have brown hair and a pointy face?”

“You've met him?” Sig looked at her with new interest.

“I've seen him from a distance.” There was nothing but darkness in her voice, and the way Big Sig looked at her, he clearly saw it. He nodded his head and did not press her further.

“How do we know this is all true?” asked Red. “You could be lying to us. Or they could have been lying to you.”

Big Sig looked back at Red. “I felt you deserved an answer as to why I won't help you take down Drem. I don't care if you believe it.”

“You should,” said Red.

“Why's that?”

Red stared down at their forgotten game of stones, almost as if he didn't know what it was. His eyes were somewhere else. His face was relaxed, almost smiling. But Hope could see a vein throbbing in his throat.

“Because,” he said at last. “If you can prove to me that Drem has sold out all of Paradise Circle to the biomancers, I promise you, I will raise an army in the Circle to match yours. Together we will knock down Drem's door.”

He placed his wooden chip on the table and looked up at Big Sig.

“And biomancers or no, I will kill that traitor myself.”

20

N
ettles wrapped her rough wool coat around herself more tightly. “I don't like this, Red.”

“The ale tastes different here.” Filler wrinkled his nose at his tankard of dark.

“You two are my best wags, and you know it,” said Red.

“Do we?” Nettles glanced at Hope, the fourth and final person at the table.

“Of course you do,” said Red. “Otherwise, you wouldn't have come with me to a tavern in Hammer Point.”

“It's only just over the line.” Nettles said it like it didn't matter, which was bludgeon because as they all knew, it
did
matter.

“Ale's not as good on this side of the line,” pronounced Filler. The poor wag looked more uncomfortable than Red had ever seen him, shifting restlessly in his seat, a thin sheen of sweat at his temples. This was the first time he'd ever been out of Paradise Circle.

“All the same,” said Red, “I know I asked a lot for you to be here, especially after you made it clear that you didn't want to help us take down Drem.” He spoke quiet and low. They were outside the Circle, and the Point of No Return wasn't crowded. The taverns that bordered a neighborhood rarely were. But still, this was too grave to talk soundly on.

“Then what is it we're doing here, if not helping you with that?”

“You don't need to
do
anything.” Red couldn't blame her for being suspicious. “You don't need to say anything or even think anything. All you need to do is watch and listen.”

Nettles leaned forward. “And what is it we're supposed to see and hear?”

“I don't know, exactly. Big Sig has made some…accusations. He claims he can prove they're true. Tonight, with you two as witness, we'll see for ourselves.”

“You been reading them spy books again?” asked Nettles. “What'd I tell you about all that reading? Makes you soft in the head.”

Red was about to reply, but then he saw Greeny Colleen enter the tavern. Such a small, mousy thing, practically invisible. He almost missed her, and for Red, that was a rare thing.

She came over to the table and eyed Nettles and Filler suspiciously. “Who're these two?”

“I need trustworthy types to vouch for me,” said Red. “If what Sig says is true.”

Colleen frowned. “It'll be a tight squeeze. And you'll be there for a while. The meeting isn't for an hour, but we need to get you in there now.”

“We'll manage,” said Red.

Colleen shrugged. “Come on, then.” She turned and headed toward the exit.

“You ready?” Red asked Hope.

“Hmm?” she said, blinking.

Red wasn't sure why, but she'd been withdrawn lately. He hadn't given it a lot of thought, though, because he'd been preoccupied himself while they were lying low down at the docks, sleeping on the
Lady's Gambit
, and helping with repairs. It felt like he'd been holding his breath for days, waiting to listen in on this meeting. If what Big Sig said was true, it changed everything. But he didn't say any of that. Instead, he said, “Time to go lurk. Your least favorite thing.”

“Oh. Right.”

As they stood up to follow Colleen, Nettles put her hand on Red's arm. “You
sure
about this?”

“I promise you, Nettles. One way or the other, this is something we need to know.”

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“I already owed you for getting us down the chute a few nights ago.”

“That's two, then.” Nettles gave him a tight grin. “Maybe I'm saving up for something special.”

Colleen led them out of the tavern and into the cold night air. It was turning to the wet season, bringing with it occasional hard squalls of icy rain. Red pulled his leather coat tighter around him. The rest of the group braced similarly. All except Hope, who seemed completely unaffected. Red wondered how cold it actually got in the Southern Isles.

“The leaders will come through the main entrance,” said Colleen as she led them around the side of the building. “They're meeting in the back room. No windows and only one entrance, which will be guarded. But there's a hidden crawlspace in the floor of that room, which you can enter from out here.”

The back of the tavern faced a dark alley, puddled with muddy water from the afternoon's cold rain. Icy water seeped into Red's boots as he scanned the back wall of the building. “I don't see the entrance.”

“Of course not.” Colleen knocked on an old ale barrel that was propped up on the side of the wall. It reverberated with an odd echo. She lifted the lid. Red peered in and saw that a tunnel had been dug out beneath the barrel.

He grinned and turned to Nettles. “Spy stuff!”

“Who knows about this crawlspace?” asked Hope.

“Big Sig, of course. And Thorn Billy, another leader who's allied with Sig. He knows you'll be there.”

“Can we trust him?” asked Red.

“To keep quiet? Yes.” Colleen looked irritated by the question. “He doesn't want to see Hammer Point turn into another Paradise Circle either.”

“What does
that
mean?” Nettles rolled her shoulder like she was warming up for a punch.

Colleen ignored her. “You'll be able to see and hear what's happening above from the crawlspace. Which means that if you move or make any sound, they'll be able to hear you, too. And if they do, Sig will act like he's never seen you in his life. He expects the same.”

Red caught her arm. “Thank you for this.”

She nodded, suddenly looking shy. “If you ever want a rematch on stones…”

He grinned. “I know just where to find it.”

She smiled and hurried away.

They contemplated the barrel.

“Filler, my old pot,” said Red. “You may lose a bit of skin in this venture.”

One at a time, they slipped through the barrel to the tunnel beneath, then shimmied on their stomachs for a few yards until the tunnel opened above into the crawlspace. True to its name, the space was so low that Red found he couldn't get his belly more than six inches from the ground. They slid in one at a time, then awkwardly rolled onto their backs to stare up through the floorboards. The room above them was still dark, so it was difficult to tell how much they would actually be able to see.

“Don't move, she says,” muttered Nettles beside him. “Like there's any room to move.”

They were all mushed up together, lying side by side. Hope, then Red, then Nettles, and finally Filler. With his ex pressed up against him on one side and the celibate girl he could never have on the other, Red couldn't quite decide if this was Heaven or one of the darker sort of hells.

“Don't you go getting any ideas, there,” said Nettles, as if she could read his mind.

“I didn't do anything,” protested Red.

“I
know
you, and you're a leaky tom if ever there was one.”

“Furthest thing from my mind,” he lied. “But clearly, it's on
your
mind. Who's leaky, then?”

“Shut up, you two,” said Filler.

“Thank you,” said Hope.

The minutes dragged by as they lay in the darkness. Finally, someone came into the room with lanterns, hung them from the walls, and left. Once there was light, Red was surprised at how much he could see. It wasn't perfect, of course. But it would be enough to see who was talking.

Several more minutes passed, and then four people entered the room. Red recognized Big Sig easily. There was also a short man with black hair that stuck out in many different directions like a hedgehog. Red assumed this was Thorn Billy. Those Hammer Point wags had a way of stating the obvious. With them was also an older woman with bone-white hair and an eye patch, and a man with skin even darker than Hope's Captain Carmichael.

“Surprised you came, Sig,” said the woman with the eye patch.

“Heard this wasn't one to miss, Sharn,” said Big Sig.

“I heard the same,” said Sharn. “Although no details as to why.”

“Has it crossed anyone's mind that this could be a trap?” asked the dark-skinned man. He spoke with a faint accent.

“Of course, Palla,” said Sig. “My people have orders to let in no one except Drem and one…guest.”

“Yes, this mystery person who will supposedly change our minds,” said Billy.

The four gang leaders waited a little longer, talking quietly. Red wanted to chance a look at Nettles after they mentioned Drem, to see her expression. But he resisted, unsure if even that slight movement would draw attention. Even his breathing seemed ridiculously loud, and his chest rose and fell far more visibly than he'd realized.

Finally, the door opened and Drem entered. Beside him was a man in a white robe belted at the waist with a gold chain. His face was hidden in the shadow of his white hood. Red knew that this was the uniform of the biomancers, though he'd never seen one himself. Nettles gave a sharp intake of breath, but it was okay because much louder things were happening above them.

Palla, Sharn, and Billy were demanding that Drem explain himself, looking somewhere between offended and alarmed. Only Sig, his face stony, remained silent.

“Now, now, you bunch of gafs, don't get all wobbly.” Drem held up his hands. “Just hear us out.”

“I'm not interested in anything that man has to say,” said Sharn, her one eye blazing with rage.

“Drem, I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you are in the Hammer right now as our protected guest,” said Palla. “If we were to withdraw that protection, things would not go well for you.”

“Right you are,” said Drem. “Which is why I came here not as an enemy, but as a potential ally.”

“I'm listening,” said Palla, his eyes hard.

“Quickly, Drem,” said Sharn. “Say your speech.”

“Thanks, kindly.” Drem's expression was oddly cheerful. “As you know, I control Paradise Circle without rival. This is partly through hard work and quality, and partly because of the biomancers.”

Despite his insistence on getting proof, Red had known in his gut that it was true. But the sadness that welled up in his chest, hot and sharp, the sense of betrayal that a true man of the Circle could sell them out like that, was more intense than he'd expected. He wondered what Filler and Nettles were feeling, getting the whole thing all at once for the first time.

“In exchange for their help,” Drem was saying, “the biomancers only want test subjects to work their trade on.”

“People, you mean,” said Palla.

“In the past, it's only been one a month. Very reasonable, I say. But, things are changing.” He glanced at the biomancer.

The biomancer pulled back his white hood, and he looked so normal, so unremarkable, that Red wondered if he was a real biomancer or just someone Drem had dressed up to get a rise out of the Hammer Point leaders. But then he spoke, and his voice was like something dredged up from the bottom of the ocean, grimy and rough like barnacles.

“The safety of the empire is in peril from enemies beyond the Dark Sea,” he said. “The emperor has commanded that we increase our efforts to develop new weapons and strategies for defense. To do this, we need more test subjects for our research. You will provide them.”

“Like hells!” said Billy.

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves.” Drem gave the biomancer a look that said,
Let me handle this
. Then he turned back to Thorn Billy. “Here's the length of it. We all come together, Paradise Circle and Hammer Point. Then we take Silverback. My friend here”—he gestured to the biomancer—“assured me this won't be a problem. Then the five of us have complete control over half of New Laven. I'll share the docks, you share the mills. Everything south of Keystown is ours to do with as we like. Sounds sunny, don't it?”

Billy shook his head. “You want us to give our own people to the biomancers?”

“Come now, Billy, old pot,” said Drem. “Let's speak crystal. We all know there are some people out there who are just useless bottom-feeders. The world won't change a hair with them gone.”

“How
many
people are we talking about?” Palla asked the biomancer.

“The exact number may change over time,” said the biomancer. “Twenty per month to start should be sufficient.”

“Twenty innocent people every pissing month?” asked Billy. “I can't believe any of you are even considering this.” He looked at each of them in turn. They remained silent. “Forget the scary bedtime stories. The biomancers are just people. Flesh and blood like us. They control through fear, intimidation, and the idle gossip of idiots.”

“Billy.” Sig laid a large hand on his shoulder. “This isn't the time for—”

“It's exactly the time!” Billy shrugged Sig's hand off. “We have to stop this now, before it goes any further. Before they destroy us all!” He turned desperately to the other leaders. None could meet his gaze.