“Long enough to hear about thieves and messages and payments,” she said, more grumpily than she intended.
“Hmm. And do you know anything about the people he’s talking about? I imagine you’d at least have encountered some rogues of their like in your time on the streets.”
She chose her words with care. “I’d heard the name ‘Hajime.’ Your friend is right to call that guy dangerous. Anytime I heard anyone talk about him, they said he was ruthless and smart. He must’ve went after your friend because he’s rich. Hajime’s supposed to be in charge of a lot of thieves and tough guys. If he said he wanted Gherun’s money, he’s gonna want that money still.”
“Well, well,” Belamy said with a sigh of his own, “but that’s a problem of its own. We’ll at least be able to get his books back to him. After I’ve had time to read them, of course,” he added with a wink. “Speaking of which,” he said as he gestured to the open book in front of him, “it’s almost time to get this back to Laribel.”
“How are you going to do that?”
He looked at her, his face slightly slack, his mouth parted in confusion. “Well—you’re going to get it back into her home.”
“I am?”
“Of course you are! I can’t very well just hand it to her, can I?” His face had gone from an expression of confusion to consternation. “We talked about this already. I told you they’d need to go back to their owners when I was done with them.”
“Yeah,” Skate said, turning from him to sit in front of the fire, “you did say that, I remember.”
“So why are you behaving like you’ve never heard any of this?”
“I’m just confused; where’d you get the idea that I was supposed to be bringing them back?” She opened and closed her toes in front of the fire. “We never talked about that, I don’t think.”
“We never—it was implied!”
“Implied?”
“Yes, implied. I meant that you were to take them back.”
“But you never said it?”
“No, but—”
“Then how in the world was I supposed to know it?” Her feet were warm enough that she pulled them back and sat cross-legged, watching the wood crackle and burn. “I never agreed to do something like that, and I don’t see how it’s my responsibility to get them back where you want them. One book, one week of shelter or one week of lessons. That was the deal, right?”
“I—”
“And that’s what I’ve been working under, and how I’ve paid my way to stay in your home and eat your food.”
“But—”
“That was what we agreed on. I never agreed to more, did I?”
Belamy spluttered, caught by the truth of her words. He stopped and closed his eyes. “This is true. I suppose you never did agree to do more. Your part of the bargain is complete, for housing and education, for three weeks.” He looked up with a half-smile, sardonic and humbled all at once. “What will it take for you to return these to their owners, then?”
Skate grinned and closed her eyes against the drying effect of the flames. “How about two weeks per book returned?”
Belamy’s face registered only a moment of surprise, then fell back into his amused expression. “One week per book returned.”
“Deal.”
Skate got to her feet as Belamy moved toward her, hand outstretched. She didn’t bother spitting in her hand this time. The handshake was brief and firm from both sides.
“You knew what I was going to ask for,” she said bluntly as they both let go.
“I had an idea. I did not expect to need to haggle over the issue, but I feel that you got exactly what you wanted anyway.”
She shrugged. “Either you’d take the high offer because you were desperate, or you’d haggle over it because you had something we both know I want. No reason not to aim high, right?”
“You thought this through,” he said, though there was no malice in the accusation. If anything, he sounded amused and surprised. “This was no spontaneous deal, was it?”
“I’ve always got to be thinking of ways to stay off the street, Bel—Mr. Belamy. This place is better than any other hole I’ve had to sleep in, don’t you doubt it. I’ve never had anyone to make me any kinds of meals before, when they come at all. So, yeah, I’ve been trying to think of how to stay here longer without going back to the streets. You can’t begrudge me for thinking about that in the meantime.”
“Far from it,” he said, the humor gone from his face. His expression was now blank; there was nothing there to read. “I’m impressed with your foresight. Most children your age wouldn’t think that far ahead.”
“You’d be surprised how many kids there are like me, and how smart they can be. You gotta be smart to survive, Mr. Belamy, make no mistake. Living on the street doesn’t give you a choice.”
Rattle came into the room carrying a steaming bowl of soup, which it placed on the floor beside Skate. It plopped a spoon into the bowl, and the splash was almost large enough to get on the floor. It floated back into the kitchen to clean up. Skate stirred the soup thoughtlessly for a few moments.
“You may be right,” Belamy admitted. “But I also know a quick learner when I see one. Your progress learning your letters is quite impressive; with the three weeks ahead of you, I have no doubt you’ll be able to have the basics of reading down. That’s uncommon for someone your age. I’ve taught many people to read over the years, but few have kept your speed and progress. Don’t underestimate your own abilities.”
“If you say so.” She began slurping the warm broth down by the spoonful, her headache getting lesser and lesser with each swallow. Must be the heat. “Speaking of reading,” she said between slurps, “what are we working on today? More letters?”
“No, I think you’ve got those. We need to move on to sounds with each letter; I think you’re ready for that.”
Skate unceremoniously wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her almost new dress. Belamy flinched and muttered some words with a lazy wave of the hand. The food that Skate had left on the inside of the fine sleeve disappeared. “Thanks,” she said, heading toward the stairs.
“Take better care of that thing,” he called after her. “Are you getting ready for today’s lesson?”
“Yeah,” she called over her shoulder, “just gimme a minute to get ready.”
Skate reached her room and pulled out the board and a piece of chalk. She had written the first three letters of the alphabet in gnarled shapes when a loud thud on the window broke her concentration. There was a splash of white powder stuck to the glass. She opened the window and looked out, only to be smacked in the face with another snowball. It was not tightly packed, so it exploded completely on impact.
Skate spluttered and wiped the snow off her face and hair before glaring down at the alley below. It didn’t take long to find Twitch, looking quite sheepish after his well-aimed throw.
“S-sorry!” he shouted, and she shushed him.
In as carrying a whisper as she could manage, she said, “Go away! You’ll ruin everything!”